Chapter 14

Fourteen

W alter

I realized Dane probably didn't know how to work the microwave, so I followed a few beats after him. When I turned the corner and started to speak—I also reacted.

He can't do this alone!

I dove toward the counter and put my hands on the planchette just as he did.

The ground dropped out from under me, and my stomach turned as I spun out of control. When the sensation stopped, I stood in total blackness. I tried to call out for Dane, but I couldn't move, couldn't speak. I could see and hear, which I realized as soon as I heard footsteps and someone whistling. A light appeared, like at the end of a stone hallway, and it shone off of a bald man's head. His face was in shadows, obscuring any identifying features.

My chest felt as if it was being constricted, but I tried to put my rational/logical brain in charge and ignore the panic setting in.

The tune he was whistling seemed somewhat familiar. It was old, like a Frank Sinatra kind of jam. Maybe older. The bald man approached and stopped a few feet away. Still no facial features.

"You've done very well," he said, his voice like a cross between that of an Alfred Hitchcock movie villain and the evil emperor from the Star Wars movies. "You found him. The one that got away. I knew he was still alive."

"He's still alive. And I made sure he saw what I did."

The second male voice came out of the darkness and all I could see was his eyes.

I felt Dane's presence beside me, but he appeared unable to move either, except for the tremors running through his body. His poor battered body.

"I sent so many sentinels out to find him, and you, Smiley, you were the one. Such a good soldier."

He reached out and patted the shoulder of the man with the eyes.

"You want more, don't you?" the bald man asked.

"I want more ," the man with the eyes said. "When they're afraid? I fucking get off, man. It's such a rush!"

The bald man chuckled softly. "Know that you're putting fear into him as well. He knows you're out there, watching him. Waiting for him."

"When do I get to kill him?"

"When the time is right, I'll let you know. And I want to watch, of course."

"Why ain't you gonna kill him yourself?"

"I've accepted that I can have so much more fun out of prison. With sentinels like you, I can go on enjoying the capture forever and remain free. I can wait. I've been so patient. But watching him bleed again will be my greatest joy. It won't be long now." The bald man turned his faceless shape toward where we were standing, almost like he could sense we were there. Then he walked away, singing this time, and I could make out the words. "I'll see you again… I'll see you… again… Dee Dee."

The light went out at the end of the hallway, and I felt the hold on me loosening. I grabbed Dane and pulled him against me, pulled him away from that place?—

"Wake up!" Someone shouted. "God, wake up, please!"

When I came to awareness, I was on the kitchen floor, my back against the oven with Dane in my arms, shivering, his teeth clacking together so loudly. Ryan and Kal were there, along with… Denny? Kal tried to take Dane out of my arms, but I pulled him tighter.

"No!" I practically growled. Dane clung to my shirt and squirmed to get closer to me.

"Walter, buddy, you okay?"

I nodded."Ryan? Get him a blanket. He's freezing."

Ryan darted away at my request, and I kept rocking Dane, rubbing his arms that were covered with goose bumps. I felt him take a few deep breaths, and then he lifted his head and pegged me with his intense gaze. Ryan returned with a crocheted blanket and wrapped it around Dane.

"Why did you do that?" he asked. His voice was hoarse and it sounded like it hurt him to speak. "Why, Walter?"

I smoothed back his hair and kissed his forehead. "I couldn't let you go alone. Hold on to me." He wrapped his arms tight around my neck, and I somehow managed to get to a crouch. I lifted him in my arms and carried him to his bedroom. I lay him on the bed, but he tensed up when I tried to stand.

"No! I don't want to close my eyes. I don't want to?—"

"I'll be right here," I said. "I won't leave you." I stretched out beside him and wrapped my arms around him once more.

My promise allowed him to relax. He fell into a deep sleep, but he never let go of my shirt.

The door opened with a small creak a few minutes later.

"We let him out of our sight for one damn day…"

I peeked over my shoulder and found Gene and Denny both standing over the bed.

"You both came?" I whispered. Dane shifted in my arms but he remained asleep.

Denny patted my shoulder. "I have way too much PTO. Ochoa's heading back tonight. We can't all of us be gone, plus Dax needs his help tracking down your suspect. Nice drawing, by the way."

"That was Ryan," I said.

"Cool guy. Talented motherfucker," Gene said.

Dane rolled over toward the wall, freeing my arm, so I sat up.

"Junior, you got some splainin' to do," Gene said softly, gesturing toward Dane."I swear we saw you less than forty-eight hours ago and you didn't mention having a sweetheart."

I placed my hand on Dane's leg, so he'd know I was still there. "I know." I ran my other hand over my face and rubbed at my hair. "How much woo-woo are you two willing to hear?"

Gene smiled and wiggled his eyebrows. "I love me some woo-woo."

Denny, however, let out an exasperated sigh. "What the fuck, Junior?"

These were my two best friends in the world. They knew me better than anyone, including my history with Dane Donovan. They'd know if I was lying. Then I would tell them my plan.

"Take a good look at him."

The two of them leaned over the bed, their heads cocked in the exact same manner.

"He's cute," Gene said. Then his eyes flared. "He's… holy ?—

"Fuck me." Denny's mouth hung open. "What in the cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs realm of fuckery am I looking at?"

"I found him," I whispered. I turned and brushed Dane's hair farther out of his face to give them a good look at him… and his scars.

"My God, Walter. What the fuck happened?"

"Jesus, Walter," Denny breathed as he noticed Dane's hands. "You down here summoning revenants or some shit?"

"He's been working at a carnival. He's got some form of dissociative amnesia, and he's only just remembering what happened to him."

"But he looks the same , Junior!" Gene said in wonder. "How the fuck does he look the same?"

"Are you sure it's him?" Denny was frowning, but it wasn't his Marine Corps Scowl he tended to get when he was disturbed by something he didn't quite understand.

I nodded. "My dad was right all along. He's got scars in the same places as the vic from yesterday, except the neck. This carnival… it's not a regular carnival. They found him, healed him, and kept him."

"For forty fucking years?" Denny said, shaking his head. He plopped down in the chair in the corner. "As much as I wanted you to solve this case—we all wanted that—this is not how I saw shit going down."

"I know," I whispered. I couldn't stop touching Dane. Even in sleep, he searched for me. He turned over and reached for my hand, squeezing it as though he was still terrified. I used my other hand to touch his hair again. Like silk .

"He's beautiful," Gene whispered.

"So what do we know so far?" Denny pulled the chair closer and Gene sat on the floor next to the bed. I slid down next to him, keeping my hand on Dane's.

"Well, we know he's alive. He met the suspect from the Buttonwillow killing at the carnival. I'm pretty sure there's a link between the person charged with Tess Miller's homicide and Dane's abduction." I took a deep breath and rubbed my eyes. "You're going to ask me how I know these things, and you aren't going to like the answers."

Denny frowned, but Gene nodded knowingly.

"That board, huh? He psychic or something?"

"Something. I think so. The board…" I shuddered. What an awful feeling. And it was having an effect on Dane. He'd crashed hard after this last time. "It's gonna be tough to use any of this information to make a case, but it's a place to start."

Denny leaned forward. "That CHP guy's story checked out. I've got a list of seventeen disappearances that match Dane's, from San Joaquin and LA County. All with the folded clothes and traces of the victim's blood. No remains. How the fuck did no one ever pick up on the similarities in these cases?"

I shook my head. "We need to look at Virgil Evans. He knew Dane. They had words."

"But all you've got is…" Denny gestured toward Dane.

"Yeah. I wish I could explain it in a concrete, solid way, but I can't."

Gene stretched up and looked toward Dane. "How the fuck does he still look the same ?"

"He's covered in scars all over, G. I don't even know how he's alive ."

Gene frowned, but then he raised an eyebrow. "All over, huh?"

"Fuck you," I said, though I'd have done the same thing if I'd walked in on what they just saw. "I'm going to have to recuse myself. Take a leave, whatever I have to do. I'm not leaving his side. Not 'til he's safe. And I can't waltz into the department and say ‘look! I found him' when he looks like a twenty-seven-year-old… but I have some ideas about that."

Denny nodded, and Gene cursed.

"We'll figure it out," Denny said, elbowing Gene. "Who else knows?"

"Ryan and Kal. You guys. I can't tell Dax. He's pissed at me already, and he won't go for any of this. I haven't told Dane's mother yet. He's not ready. I don't know how we're going to explain it."

"No shit. He barely looks twenty-seven." Gene snorted. "Doesn't look much older than Stacia and Stef."

I groaned. Leave it to Gene. My twins were twenty-one, so yeah. Dane wasn't much older than them. But this situation was something else altogether.

"You got a change of clothes?" Gene asked. "Cause if I'm not mistaken, that's the same shit you had on at the bar."

"Yeah, in my truck." I handed Gene the keys. "Mind grabbing my duffle?"

He took them and headed out.

"Listen," Denny said. "I'm only saying this once, and I'm not trying to be an asshole. You sure this is how you want to play it?"

"What choice do I have? He needs protection. I can't be objective. I'm too invested. If I tell Cap any of this, he'll think… he'll say…"

"Walt, you're not your father. I'm right here. I see him with my own two eyes, and no way is anyone saying anything about my mental fitness. Although, man. How…?"

"I know."

He sighed. "For now, you're on vacation, so Gene and I will handle shit. You found… information relevant to the case. I'm taking over the case. You okay with that?"

I nodded. I had to be.

"You trust me to handle it?"

"Yeah," I said. And I did.

"Good, because I'm not having you lose your fucking job over this. You gotta trust me to not let you throw the rest of your life away, got it?"

"Denny, this isn't how it looks. I haven't… we haven't… I wouldn't."

"Not yet, anyway."

"Yeah," was all I could say. Dane and I had forged a connection that was about more than just me trying to close his case. Our lives intertwined in so many ways—ways he wasn't even aware of yet—and I didn't want to let go. I also didn't have high hopes for any kind of future with him. He was going to figure out this life and move on. I didn't have much faith that I would be a part of that. He deserved to find happiness, and I wouldn't stand in the way. I'd be here as long as he needed me, and then…

I felt as if I was on a collision course with forces that would change my life forever, and at this point, I couldn't fucking guess whether or not those forces would do good, or would destroy me.

It didn't matter.

Only Dane mattered.

"You slept?" Denny asked.

I shrugged. "Not really?"

He leaned forward and squeezed my shoulder. "Get some sleep. We'll figure this out when you wake up. Gene will be taking off late tonight but I'm here for the duration, so you can relax, all right?"

I accepted his hand and allowed him to pull me into a big, back-pounding hug.

"I can't thank you enough," I murmured.

"Fuck off," he said. "You've been there for all of us countless times, not to mention that fucking bullet you took for me. You'd do the same if I was going off the rails."

It was true. When he was my T.O., we were serving a warrant on a county-wide domestic violence sweep, and the abusive husband we served decided he'd rather kill himself and take us all with him than go to jail. I stopped his bullet, and then him, allowing the rest of the team to take him down. He cried more than I did. It was a clean through-and-through of my left biceps. Barely left a scar. Hurt less than the time I tore my rotator cuff wrestling a guy to the ground when he tried to stab Gene. Or the time Dax was a rookie and I shoved him out of the way of a car that tried to run him down, getting clipped in the hip in the process.

I wasn't as marked as Dane, but I'd shed blood for my colleagues and had my own map of battle scars to prove it.

"Get some rest, Junior. We'll figure it all out later. Don't worry about this," he said, looking at Dane. He smirked as he walked out the door.

I muttered something about him only calling me Junior when he was pissed, and I eased myself down on the bed. I kicked off my shoes, pulled off my coat and my sweater, took off my holster and set it under the nightstand, and then I stretched out next to Dane in time for him to wrap himself around me.

I drifted off thinking we fit really nice together.

When I woke next, it was dark in the room. How long ago had I entered this house? Had it only been twenty-four hours? My whole life had been turned on its head by the man I'd been looking for?—

"Mmmm, is this a dream?"

—the man who was currently pressed against me with his hands inside my shirt.

"I feel like I'm still at the carnival," he whispered. "Time is weird, man. It seems like I've been here ages, not just a day."

I slid my hand under his shirt and grazed my nails up his spine, causing him to hiss.

"You're here. You're safe."

"You're in my bed," he said, and when I started to let go, he pulled me tighter to him. "Give me that mustache."

"Fuck. Dane ." There was no resisting him. He kissed me as if I held the power in my lips to convince him he was alive, tangible. Real. It was enough to convince both of us.

He went to work unbuttoning my shirt and opened it wide, and only then did he pull away from the kiss.

"God, you're perfect." He pulled off his shirt, and then we were chest to chest, his mostly devoid of hair, mine not at all. He unfastened my pants next, and I could barely breathe when he slid his hand inside and grabbed my erection. "All of you. Perfect. Walter, please, touch me. Make me real."

His pants were loose, too loose. I slid my hands underneath and over his ass, pulling his hips closer to mine. He hooked his leg over my hip and ground his equally hard erection against mine.

"Dane, are you?—"

"Don't ask me if I'm okay. Just please, make me forget for a little while."

I gave his dick a squeeze, and he gasped.

"I'll make you forget everything but this." And then I completely gave up on any sort of professional discretion. Right or wrong, I was going to give him what he asked for.

I tugged his pants down to his knees and grabbed his hips tight, pulling him up on the bed and flipping him onto his back. He asked for mustache? He was going to get everything he wanted.

He let out a long, low moan as I sucked him down. I was grateful Denny had shut the door and that we were far from the sitting room and kitchen, because his sounds of desire drove me into a frenzy.

He wanted the mustache, but he was getting a lot more. I touched him everywhere I could get to; tweaked his nipples, squeezed his ass, stroked his balls until his body was overcome by the good kind of shakes. When he started to thrash beneath my hands, I loosened my grip. The last thing I wanted was for him to feel trapped.

I pulled my lips off him and switched to stroking with my hand. I slid up the bed next to him to kiss his throat, his earlobe, his eyes. He was panting, and the needy sounds coming from him were frustrated, pained. I slowed my movements down and stroked his hair.

"Come, Dane. Come for me. You can let go."

"I don't… No one's ever done that to me. I don't know how?—"

"Shhh." I ran my fingers lightly over his chest. "It's okay. I didn't know."

"Yeah. Twenty-seven-year-old virgin here. I mean, I did that to someone else, but no one…"

"No one ever took care of you. I will. I want to. You can let go with me. Take as long as you need. Tell me what you liked."

"God, your mouth. Your mustache. Feels so good."

"You taste so good. Let me try again," I said, kissing my way down his stomach. "Move however you want, I'm here for the ride. Tell me what gets you off."

"You, Walter. You get me off. You're so… Ohhhhhh ."

I tried to be gentle, using my tongue and light pressure from my lips on his crown, and soon he started thrashing again. He kicked off his pants the rest of the way, brought his legs up, and gripped the back of my head as he thrust deep into my mouth, hitting the back of my throat until my eyes watered. He slowed his movements down, but he gripped tighter as his legs started shaking again. He moaned once more, long and low, and filled my mouth as he spilled over and over.

I released his cock and let the last few spurts land on my lips as I gasped for breath. A few tugs on my own dick and I filled my hand, the shudders bringing pleasure to every synapse in my body in their wake.

"Kiss me, please. I need you."

I wiped my hand on a tissue from the nightstand and pulled him into my arms, taking a moment to catch my breath.

Dane reached up and touched my lips, sucked his fingers and moaned. He crawled on top of me, straddled my waist, and licked at my mouth, tangling his tongue with mine. He sighed happily, and I felt him growing hard again.

"You might technically be older, but I'm the old man in this bed. I need to catch my breath." I chuckled as he snuggled into my neck.

"You're incredible," he whispered, and then he started humming against my throat. And then he was singing…

"‘Hello,' you said to me time and time again, did you ever wonder what I would say then, if you stopped a while, shared a smile…" The words to one of my favorite songs off of his first album poured out of him, his voice quiet but strong. I held him close, wondering if he realized what he was doing. When he finished the song, I turned his face to look up at me.

"Do you realize what you just did?"

His eyes widened and he smiled. "I sang. My… Oh! Walter! You?—"

"Do not say I cured you with a blow job."

He burst out laughing and rolled off of me.

"I would never. I'm the magic one, remember? But you saved me. My voice. You got me out of my head and into my body?—"

"Or, it was the trauma you just went through…"

He sighed, and I thought, Dammit, Walter. You just ruined it .

"Or, maybe for the first time since this all happened, I felt safe."