True Knight

by Patricia Logan

  I walked to the car, satisfied that the contractor I’d hired had done what I’d asked inside the store… now to see how she’d managed to handle the house I’d purchased. I started the car and headed down the empty two-lane street about a mile outside town in the opposite direction of the bed and breakfast. This route took me deeper into the woods. I looked for the wide tree stump with a built-in mailbox perched on its top and found it just where the real estate agent said it would be. Turning off the main highway, I drove about a half mile into the woods and pulled up to the cabin I’d purchased. It was set in a picturesque clearing with a small stream running along the backside of it.

  I got out, listening for animals in this part of the redwoods and heard nothing in the vicinity but birds waking up and the pattering feet of rodents and other small creatures. The agent had hesitantly explained that this part of Prosper Woods was populated by the occasional wolf or bear. I found her disclosure intriguing. Wolves usually weren’t found in these parts, though an occasional den popped up here or there. After hearing the sounds in the woods while in town, I now had no doubt these weren’t typical wolves but without proof, I couldn’t do anything about it… not tonight anyway. I’d lived a long time and ran into wolves now and then. I protected myself. I needed to be left alone. That was all.

  The cabin was small but built in the last thirty years with all the amenities anyone would expect. Lydia Jameson, the out of state contractor I’d hired, had mailed me before and after pictures of her work. I was very pleased with the windowless room she’d constructed for me at the back of the house. I’d asked her to install new glass windows with a coating that kept out UV rays throughout the house. My request hadn’t seemed to raise red flags with her after I’d explained my sensitivity to light. In fact, Ms. Jameson had disclosed that she also had an aunt with an allergy to sunlight so my request was understandable. I’d smiled at that, wishing I could ask for her aunt’s name without raising any suspicions. It might have been nice to know another of my kind.

  Then again, I hadn’t moved here to make new friends of that sort.

  As I walked inside, I stopped to switch on the light beside the front door. The room flooded with light from a Tiffany lamp sitting on an end table beside a smooth, black leather couch. The furnishings on the inside of my cabin were placed exactly as I’d specified in my emails back and forth with Lydia. Shiny pine hardwood floors were covered with the hand-knotted Persian rugs I’d had shipped ahead of time. Lydia’s movers had filled the great room with an array of antiques I’d collected over the years but my eyes were drawn to the large brick fireplace on the north wall.

  Over the carved oak mantlepiece, hung a shield I’d carried into battle as a human in the thirteenth century. On it was emblazoned my family’s coat of arms, a fire breathing dragon with great wings and razor-sharp claws. Over it hung my polished broadsword, gleaming in the low light. Pride flooded my veins as it did whenever I looked upon the weapons I’d carried into battle many times. They were my fiercest companions… my only companions.

  I tore my gaze away from the fireplace and let it wander about the room. Along with the furnishings, wall hangings, and hand-painted oils most people would call antiques, the scent of lemons and pine hung in the air. Neither scent meant much to me. Only one smell made me sit up and come to attention and that scent wasn’t present in my home. I walked to the kitchen that was stocked with food. I ate very little of the stuff since it didn’t do anything for me nutritionally. Some of my kind couldn’t stomach it at all. My age allowed me certain flexibilities not available to the younger of my species.

  Honestly, I’d ordered the food only for show. I knew my charade better than anyone. I’d learned to perfect it over the centuries. I also knew that the rules of hospitality in small towns were the same everywhere. Neighbors stopped in to meet the newcomer and usually brought dishes of the noxious stuff along with them in the form of casseroles, Bundt cakes, and tins of cookies, none of which I wanted or needed.

  I walked over to the refrigerator and yanked it open. Inside, one whole shelf was filled to overflowing with the only human food I did enjoy. At least forty sealed bottles of Heinz ketchup sat on the top shelf. I reached in and pulled out a bottle, opening the lid before tilting my head back and pouring it down my throat. I swallowed greedily and then dropped the empty bottle in the garbage bin before turning back to the fridge. I grinned before closing the door.

  I walked out of the kitchen, turned the corner, and headed down the hall to the bedrooms. I stepped into the furnished master and then to the bookcase Lydia had built along one whole wall. I stepped up to it and reached up, pulling out a specific book. Right where it was supposed to be, I found the small button and pushed it. The bookcase parted in the middle, revealing an elevator shaft leading to the secret room she’d built for me beneath the master. Lydia’s lack of curiosity as to why I needed a secret basement room with elevator access was one of the things I’d liked about her.

  I stepped inside the elevator, noting the bookcase closing at the same time as the double doors did. The dimness of the elevator car was lit by a small light built into the ceiling of the car. One story down, the elevator stopped and I stepped out into a homey large space. Immediately, I noticed the way the movers had placed my four-poster bed against the far wall. It was draped with fresh linens. The rest of my antique bedroom set had been placed inside the roomy, carpeted, windowless, space.

  A bathroom with a separate steam shower had also been newly constructed and as I stepped inside and flipped on a light, I was overwhelmingly pleased with what my contractor had been able to achieve. Sleek white subway tiles adorned the walls, a huge Jacuzzi tub sat in the center of the room, white marble countertops topped the dual cabinets that faced each other, and I sighed. Everything was built perfectly to my specifications.

  For a split second, I stood there, looking at the bathroom large enough for two, wishing I had someone to share the elegant space with. That thought vanished almost before it began. The fact was, the movers Lydia had hired were the only ones who’d ever get a chance to appreciate the elegance of my home. I flipped off the light and walked back out of the bathroom. Crossing the room, I stopped beside my bed before stripping off my clothes and sliding onto clean sheets. I wouldn’t sleep all day but I had no reason to go out before dusk.

  I rolled onto my side, running my hand along the empty space beside me. I was starting a new chapter of my very long life once again. Some men like me would claim that I was free once again. I’d once thought so too. Tonight, loneliness overwhelmed me and I wished for things I couldn’t ever have. I didn’t dream anymore but sometimes I let memories wash over me. I needed rest so I rolled to my back and stared up at the ceiling until my mind finally shut down and sleep swept me away.

  Chapter Two

  Prosper Woods Chronicle. Letters to the editor:

  “At the saloon last night, a customer asked me for a hamburger made of aspirin. I wasn’t sure he was serious since he’d been at the bar for the last two days and nights getting his drunk on. I just wanted to write and tell everyone that the bar doesn’t sell drugs in any shape or form.” Signed, “Just Say No.”

  Romeo

  I woke up with a raging hard-on and slid my hand into my boxer briefs, turning my head and glancing at the clock. It read 6:17 and I sighed. The sun wasn’t even up yet. I hadn’t slept all that well. It was too quiet. Once in the night I’d thought I’d heard the howling of wolves but as I finally drifted off, I’d realized that was crazy. There were no wolves in the California redwood forests. They preferred to make their homes up north in Oregon or Washington, places that got more snow.

  I turned away from the clock and looked up at the ceiling, grabbing my thick shaft and giving it a few long, slow strokes as I pictured the last guy I’d fucked. The encounter had been months ago but the little bottom had cried out my name as I gave it to him hard, pounding into him and making him writhe on the bed like the greedy little bottom he was. The t
ruth was, he’d wanted me the moment he’d spotted me in a club I used to frequent in LA. They all wanted me. Sometimes I invited the attention; most of the time, I didn’t. They all flocked to me anyway. Since true tops were unicorns in the gay world with a ratio of one top to every nine bottoms, I never went home alone.

  Out here in the woods, things would be different. I was sure of it. I pictured the man’s mouth on me, the way he’d hollowed his cheeks and sucked me like a Hoover, all the while batting his lovely long lashes at me. When I’d pulled out and come all over his face, he’d shut his eyes but still managed to catch most of my load on his tongue. Still, I’d made sure to paint his smooth cheeks, lips, and chin until he’d glistened with creamy splashes of white spunk. I’d always thought facials were hot and my trick that night had endlessly whined as I’d cleaned him off with my tongue, begging me for my number even though I shut him down more than once. I never fucked the same guy twice.

  I didn’t want to give anyone ideas of long-term. I shuddered at the very thought of it.

  I tightened my fist and stroked harder, throwing back the covers and looking down at the weeping head of my dick. I brushed a calloused thumb over the slit and just that little bit of stimulation and thinking about the way that bottom’s lips had glistened with my come had me shooting high onto my chest. I grunted as I milked thick, creamy streamers that gathered into puddles between my cut abs. After I’d emptied my balls, I sighed deeply, blowing out a long breath, and feeling energized, ready to start the new job.

  I reached for the old T-shirt I’d discarded in the middle of the night and wiped myself down from chin to groin before climbing out of bed. I padded across the cold hardwood floors to my bathroom with even colder tile and reached into the shower, turning it on to let it heat before walking over to the sink and staring at myself in the mirror.

  At thirty-two, I looked younger, even with the black stubble that grew over my square jaw. My black hair was tousled from being in bed. I reached up and ran my fingers through the wispy strands on top, staring into my brown eyes, once again wishing that they were blue like my stepbrother, John’s. My gaze stopped on my lips. They were prominent, called pouty by one dreamy-eyed lover who’d made me smile at the compliment. My lashes were thick and black, my eyebrows thick and black, and once, just weeks before an 80s retro party at work, I’d let my mustache grow out.

  Big surprise. It had grown out thick and black. I’d shaved it the next day.

  I turned away from the mirror as it was beginning to fog with steam and stepped into the shower, more to wash the scent of jizz off me than anything else. I certainly wouldn’t want Sally catching a whiff of sex coming off me at work. I had no idea whether we’d be sharing her patrol car today. Once I was out and dressed in blue jeans, a long-sleeved T-shirt, and my sheriff’s uniform shirt with the shiny new badge Sally had given me the day before, I padded downstairs to my kitchen to begin poking through cabinets.

  As I waited for my coffee to brew, I fixed myself a bowl of oatmeal and sat down at the table, grabbing my phone, and pulling up the page for the local newspaper called the Prosper Woods Chronicle. After reading about a new antique store moving into town, the fact that the local boy scout troop’s shed had been vandalized, and that Buck Walters had been jailed overnight on a drunk and disorderly the day before, I turned to my horoscope.

  The horoscope was on the same page as the syndicated Dear Abby column and something that read like a town gossip column/police blotter. I chuckled in amusement at someone who’d complained about being stared at by racoons and then grinned widely after reading about someone fearing that aspirin might be the beginnings of a drug problem in Prosper Woods. I’d seen the devastating effects of illegal drugs in Los Angeles and I reminded myself to ask Sally if they had a problem here as well. She’d explained that there was little to no crime here which probably meant that there was no drug problem but as the new sheriff, it was my job to ask. If there was a drug problem, surely she’d know.

  I finished my coffee and walked over to the hall tree where I’d left my boots and stepped into them, doing up the laces and then grabbing my coat off the rack where I’d left it after unpacking. I walked back to the kitchen and grabbed my shopping list off the room divider. Sid Farrell had stocked up the kitchen pretty well, but for some reason, he’d not given me any ketchup or beer, two things that were necessities in my pantry. He’d given me everything else, even leaving a bag of charcoal briquettes and a box of wooden matches for the grill on the back deck.

  As I stepped outside and locked up the house, I took a deep breath of the clean mountain air. There was nothing like the fresh, cold, crisp snap of early spring on the morning air. I looked around, noting dew on the flowers and sunlight dappling through the pines as the sun rose. I was pretty much in heaven and I found myself whistling as I walked out to the truck.

  The two-lane highway to downtown Prosper Woods wound down the mountain, taking several hairpin turns. Though the town was only three and a half miles from my cabin, it took all of ten minutes on the mountain roads. The snow had melted with the arrival of spring and I imagined it would be a harrowing drive for anyone without snow chains on this road during the winter. I wondered how often the snowplow came through when it got really heavy but then again, I figured it would be often since the road into town was an offshoot of California interstate 80. I got to the sheriff’s station at seven thirty, noting that Sally’s Blazer was already in its parking space out front. I pulled my truck into the space beside her and got out, locking up out of habit before strolling into the station.

  Surprisingly, Precious was already inside as well. She wore another mini skirt, this one some bright shade of blue and on top, she wore a silver tank top partially hidden by a short jacket which seemed to be made of a long-haired synthetic fur. It was fastened across her prominent bustline with little silver frogs and she stood up with a big smile as soon as she saw me.

  “Good morning, Sheriff Romeo. I just made some coffee. Would you like a cup?”

  “Sure,” I replied hesitantly as I shucked my jacket and hung it on the coat tree beside the door. “But I know where it is, Precious. I can get my own.”

  Her delicate brows drew together as her attention went to the gun on my hip. She seemed to shake off her surprise and looked back up at me. “Oh, no! That’s my job. Now, why don’t you just go back to your office and have a look at Buck Walter’s folder. There’s a transfer slip you need to sign in there. Lord knows, Dave could have done it when he was in yesterday, but he was balls deep in his omelet when I asked him and besides, he’s just lazy between you, me, and the lamppost.”

  I choked out a laugh just as Sally appeared from the hallway. She stopped and glared at Precious before rolling her shoulders and then looking over at me wearing a somewhat guilty expression.

  “Good morning, Sheriff,” she said.

  I smiled at her. “Morning, Sally.”

  “I think I forgot to mention that our Precious has a potty mouth.”

  “Well, it’s true. He was balls—” She stopped when Sally held up a hand.

  “Sheriff Rome doesn’t want to know anything about Dave’s balls, Precious.”

  “Fine, but I’d bet they’re tiny child balls anyway,” Precious said with a huff before turning and flashing a brilliant smile in my direction. “I’ll just get your coffee, Sheriff Romeo.” Before I could correct her about my name, she pranced off down the hall, headed for the coffee room.

  I turned to Sally, smiling at my deputy. “She’s not going to drop my full name, is she?”

  Sally smiled. “She’s a bit of a romantic, our Precious.”

  I nodded. “I wasn’t sure anyone would be here this early.”

  “I start early since I have a little one to pick up from school by two thirty. I hope that’s okay with you, Sheriff. I know I didn’t even ask.”

  “It’s totally fine with me. Back in LA, some officers I worked with often came in at dawn to put in a full eight hours befo
re school let out for exactly the same reason.”

  “That’s right. I forgot you worked for the LAPD before moving here,” Sally said, walking over and stopping in front of me. “This place is nothing like LA is. I bet we could be a part-time department all around if it wasn’t for the tourists and drunks.”

  “That’s exactly why I’m here, Sally. Believe me, I’d rather roll drunks than deal with gang bangers all day long.”

  “Well, you say that now, but I think you’ll soon find that boredom sets in quite easily in Prosper Woods.”

  “Okay, well, I guess I’ll get to that folder Precious was talking about. Apparently, I need to sign a transfer.”

  “Right. Like I told you, we let Buck Walters out on his own recog, but he has to see the judge in Stockton. That’s what Precious is talking about.”

  “Okay,” I told her, heading for my office. As I passed the coffee room, Precious was bent over pulling things out of the fridge. I ignored her round backside and long legs since women held little interest for me in that regard, and instead walked into my office. I took off my Glock and shut it into a locking drawer in the metal desk and sat down behind it, opening the folder there. I was studying the form when I heard the clip of heels coming down the hall.

  Precious came into my office with a cup of coffee and a stainless-steel condiment caddy holding little jugs of half and half, creamer, and a sugar bowl. The smile on her face was brilliant as she pranced toward me on shiny blue pumps. I noticed the bow in her hair as well as the choker she wore were also blue today.

  “Here you are, Sheriff Romeo. I didn’t know how you took your coffee so I brought out this little caddy.” She set everything down on my desk and I looked at it appreciatively, taking the coffee and holding up the mug.

  “I take my coffee black but thank you so much for your thoughtfulness, Precious.”