Chapter Twelve Trouble
chapter twelve
Trouble
Aaron sat atop the table of a picnic bench outside the student centre, tatty trainers on the seat, lighting the cigarette Mel had been so kind to beg, borrow or steal for him. She perched by his feet, gazing out at the grassland where the skins v shirts five-a-side match kept them amused through their lunch hour. Taylor was among them, a skin , and Aaron checked out his shirtless body as he played ball, every so often Taylor sneaking a glance over at him.
“He fancies the fuck out of you,” Mel said, flicking her ash on the gravel.
“I know.”
“You like him?” She peered up, shielding her eyes from the low October sun.
Aaron shrugged and took a drag from his cigarette. Objectively, Taylor was easy on the eye. He had a toned, fit body. Symmetrical face. Stylish hair he looked after. And a casual confidence proving he was comfortable in his skin. The woven leather rainbow bracelet wrapped around his wrist announced the pride in who he was and how he had no fear or shame. And he was cool with public displays of affection, if him spooning him on the dancefloor on Sunday was anything to go by. With all that, Aaron should feel something . Arousal, at least.
But, as was the norm, he was indifferent.
Sometimes he wondered if he even was gay. But he could recall his childhood, his youth and the adolescent attractions getting him into trouble at more than one placement. Kicked out of a foster home completely for it too. Maybe that’s what had caused him to be less…outward facing. There were other labels he could try out. Some friends of his had offered them for him—demisexual, aromantic. Neither felt right. He just had a narrow selection of men who got him off. Of whom he wanted to get him off. And an even narrower selection of those he wanted to get off.
“You’re good at that.”
Aaron blew out smoke as the five-a-side match came to a natural end, the lads picking up bags and tops to head to the afternoon lectures. Taylor peered over to him, scraping back his hair, a wry smile as he leisurely collected his top, probably thinking he was giving Aaron a show. Aaron looked away. So Taylor dragged the top over his head and sauntered over to the bench.
Mel stood. “See ya.”
She, too, thought she was doing Aaron a favour.
“Hey.” Taylor leaned forward to tap his knee.
Aaron could get on board with the sweat. He had a surface level attraction to that. But Taylor’s mingled cloyingly with whatever aftershave he’d bathed in that morning, which wasn’t quite a repellent, but nor did it stir anything in Aaron to make him want to form a bond with someone…normal. Available. Easy .
Why was he like this? Why couldn’t he be like everyone else who fucked for fuck’s sake? Especially when he looked the way he did. People thought he was a slut. The pink hair. Tight clothes. His nipple piercing. The neck tattoo. Nose ring. All were the hallmarks of a man who said he was up for it.
Except he wasn’t.
Only to the right person.
“Good boy.”
Taylor waved over at the mates who’d all hollered to him and were making their way to the faculty blocks. “We’re having a few drinks round ours tonight. Me and my housemates.” He pointed to the lads grinning at him from afar, jeering him on. “Wanna come along?”
Aaron took another drag, flicking the ash to the ground. Did he want to go to a third-year party? Want to drink on a Monday night? Encourage Taylor to make another move? Not really. But what else did he have to do? So he blew out the smoke to answer when an authoritative voice from behind stopped him in his tracks.
“Aaron Jones?”
Aaron peered over his shoulder. A uniformed police officer approached, along with a plain clothed one, followed by Dr Kenneth Lyons.
Aaron narrowed his eyes. “Yeah?”
The plain clothed bloke lifted an ID. “DI Bentley. Could we have a quick word?”
DI Bentley?
“Hey, I’m PC Bentley. You can call me Jack.”
Aaron had spent years learning to mask his reactions. He’d had lessons on it too. How to handle a situation where he had to keep his mouth closed and learn to bury the truth had been instilled into him since entering the system. But he’d never come as close to a danger zone as this. Blurting out his real name during the throes of an orgasm to someone who probably didn’t have a clue what that meant was one thing. Saying it to someone who knew what that meant was something else entirely. He should have thought about that before stepping foot back here.
He glanced at Kenny. Jaw set, his eyes spoke volumes. Do not say anything.
Aaron held up his cigarette to Bentley. “Can I finish this?”
“It’ll kill you.” Bentley took a step back.
Aaron turned his gaze on Kenny. “So people tell me.” He then took a final drag and jumped off the table to stub the butt on the ground.
“You okay?” Taylor asked, wrapping his hand around Aaron’s wrist. Second time today that had happened. People thought he was vulnerable. Needed taking care of. Except this time, Aaron’s heart wasn’t as excited about that. “Want me to come with you?”
“Nah, it’s ok.” Aaron then, for some malicious reason, pressed his lips to Taylor’s ear. Soft, sweet and seductive, with his eyes trained on Kenny. “See you at the party.”
Kenny glanced to the ground, finding something particularly nasty there if his grimace were to be believed, and Aaron smiled with malevolent triumph. Take that. Two can play at his game. Taylor scurried off back to his mates, every so often glancing back with worry.
Aaron clasped his arms together in front of himself. “Arrest me, officer.”
“Detective,” Bentley said, then narrowed his eyes as if assessing him. As if wondering about him.
Aaron couldn’t do a damn thing about his face. Even if he had grown stubble, shoved a nose ring in, dyed his hair pink, it was still his face.
“Is there somewhere private we can go?” Bentley said, although not to him. To Kenny.
“We can go to my office.” Kenny gestured with his hands, then gave Aaron a pointed look as he put his back to the officers and squirmed past them all to lead the way.
Another, Do Not Say Anything.
In the Psychology building, the uniformed officer stood outside Kenny’s office. Kenny ushered him and Bentley inside and Bentley offered Aaron the tatty sofa while he sat on the office chair. Leaving Kenny to stand with his shoulder against the door, chewing his thumbnail, peering at Aaron over his glasses.
He looked fucking hot in glasses.
Bentley took out a notebook and pencil, flipping to a scrawled on page. “Did you report a Rahul Mishra missing on Friday evening?”
Oh. This was about that .
“Yeah.” Aaron sank back in the seat, relief flooding him. Although he doubted either Bentley or Dr Kenneth Lyons would notice. He was good like that.
Kenny tilted his neck. Assessing him.
Dammit.
“Were you friends with Rahul?” Bentley asked.
“Were?” Past tense meant past tense.
“ Are you friends with Rahul.” Bentley hated he’d slipped up. Aaron could tell. So could Kenny, because he took his eyes off Aaron long enough to warn him.
So Rahul had turned up.
“I’ve been here four weeks,” Aaron said. “Everyone and no one is my friend.” He scratched his nails along the worn leather seat. “I take it he didn’t go home?”
“Do you know Rahul’s parents? His family?”
“No. Or I would have told them he was missing and not the Nazi bint on the accommodation desk.”
Jack shared a look with Kenny. And Aaron watched that miniscule exchange with alarm bells ringing in his subconscious. The familiarity sparked a memory too deep, too buried, that he couldn’t quite reach it. His body clenched.
Bentley turned back to Aaron. “Could you provide the details of your whereabouts this Friday, Saturday, and Sunday?”
“I could.”
Kenny pushed away from the door. “Answer the fucking question, Aaron.” Kenny’s bark even caused Bentley to flinch.
Aaron didn’t, though. He just peered up at him with lethargic eyes. “I fucking did , Kenny.”
A tense exchange between him and Kenny, then him and Bentley, where they seemed to share some silent words, as if well versed on how to talk among others with nothing more than looks, had the air prickling with heat.
“Where were you Friday, Saturday and Sunday just gone?” Bentley rephrased the question once everyone settled back into their respective positions.
“Friday I was here. After telling accommodation I hadn’t seen Rahul in over a week, I went to the Student Union, where I danced until about midnight. Went home. To my room.”
“Alone?” Bentley had his pen poised on the pad.
“Yeah. Alone . Had an offer but turned it down for a night with my hand watching daddy porn.” He gave a subtle wink to Kenny.
Bentley peered up from having scribbled something on his notes, catching the tail end of that brief exchange. He adjusted his seating position as if uncomfortable.
“Saturday?” Bentley asked.
“Saturday I had to read this really fucking boring book for a lecture on Monday called Psychopathy and the Criminal by a Dr Kenneth Lyons, so I think I might have fallen asleep.”
Bentley peered up at Kenny again. Kenny rolled his eyes. Bentley turned back to him. “All day?”
“No. The evening, I went out. Had a date.” Aaron smiled and recited the details with a deadpan delivery he was proud of, because beneath the surface he tingled with the reaction, feeling Kenny’s eyes on him like a lead weight. “Went to a pub called the Jobber’s Rest. Ate a ribeye steak, medium rare, didn’t have a dessert. Shared a bottle a wine. Then walked her back to her door where I kissed her but didn’t go in because, well, to be honest, I can’t stop thinking about this really fucking hot twink I had in a club and everything else is pale in comparison.”
Kenny froze, drifting away from the door, eyes on Aaron like death lasers.
“And your date can corroborate that?” Bentley said, avoiding or unaware of the unrest. Aaron doubted he was unaware. Not if he was any decent investigator.
Aaron laughed. “Nah. Sorry. That was a joke. I was here on Saturday. Reading that book. You can check with my hall mates. I think everyone heard me yawn. So my mate Mel came round to try evoke some interest in the text.”
Bentley gave him a stern look, one that said stop pissing about. “Sunday?”
“Went to my pole dancing club. Had a drink after in the bar. Slept.”
Jack searched his face for a moment. “What happened to your eye?”
“A homophobe happened.”
“Have you reported it?”
“Why does everyone want me to report it? What’s the point?”
“You’re a victim of a hate crime.”
“Trust me, I’m no victim and the hate was all mine.”
There was another exchange of looks between Bentley and Kenny. Eventually, Kenny’s shake of his head seemed to indicate something to the detective, and Bentley went back to pressing Aaron about why they had pulled him in here.
“Why did you believe Rahul was missing?”
“Haven’t seen him in days. Went to his core lecture. He wasn’t in there.”
“Did you not believe he might have gone home?”
“Thought about that, yeah. But I doubted he would.”
“Why?”
“Because as much as he’s getting a hard time here, he’d be getting a worse one at home if he quit.”
“Why would you say that?”
“He’s a gay Muslim. Arranged marriage to a woman to look forward to and studying a degree he hates all to satisfy his parents.” Aaron cocked his head. “But you’ve used a lot of past tense in your questions. Shall I assume you’re not currently looking for him?”
Bentley closed his notebook. “Rahul was found in the river this morning.”
“Not having a leisurely swim, I take it?”
“No.”
“Shit.” Aaron rubbed his fingers along his brow. “Poor fucker. Did he drown?”
“We’re investigating.”
Aaron glanced up at Kenny. There was a small, miniscule nod of acknowledgement behind the chewing thumbnail, as if he was letting Aaron know he was there. He understood how he might be feeling. Y’know, the pastoral side of his job role.
Aaron turned back to Bentley. “Do you think he topped himself?”
“It’s what we’re investigating.”
Aaron thought about it, then shook his head. “Nah. He wouldn’t have.”
“What makes you say that? You’ve alluded to him being troubled. Having a bad time of it here. And not welcome back at home?”
“Yeah, but he was edging out. If he’d topped himself around Christmas, yeah, I could get on board with that. But not a week in. Not when he’d put the feelers out. Pretty sure he’s been called racist shit before. Maybe not homophobic shit. That’s probably just us bent ones, right?” He gestured to Bentley, ignoring Kenny. Because he doubted Kenny got mistaken for gay. Not only was he bi, but he presented as straight. Until he had his cock down a twink’s throat, that was. Then he was all gay. “But I don’t think one comment would have sent him over the edge in a day. He’d have a thicker skin than that even if he’d been shielded from racists all his life.”
“You said he’d been missing a week? But you only reported him missing on Friday.”
“Yeah. Cause I pushed my number under his door a week ago. He would have used it if he’d seen it.”
“Why do you think that?”
Aaron grinned. Winked. Held out his arms to display himself.
Kenny pinched the bridge of his nose.
“You and he were…?” Bentley waved the hand clutching his pencil.
“No. He wanted to. Like, I said, edging out.”
“And you were willing?”
“Nah.” Aaron chewed the inside of his cheek in suggestion. “Takes a special someone to get in my mouth.”
Bentley glanced over to Kenny. Kenny ripped his gaze from Aaron to shake his head at the detective. Yet another silent understanding between them both. Although there was an unspoken between them, too. A slither of Bentley trying to work something out with his better knowledge.
“Thank you, Aaron.” Bentley shut his notepad. “You’ve been helpful.”
“Have I?”
“For now.”
“I can go?”
“Yes. But we’ll need to speak to you again. An official interview. I’d urge you to keep this quiet until the announcement from the university. We’ll also be sending officers to your dorm. Check Rahul’s room. Might be an idea to stay away from that for a while? Do you have any family local? Can you go home for a night?”
Aaron stood. Laughed. Shoved his bag over his shoulder. “Care kid. No parents.”
“Ah. I see.”
“S’okay. I got invited to a house party with five gay third years tonight. Wasn’t going to go, but you just pushed me into a gang bang.” He made his way to the door, where Kenny blocked his exit. “Excuse me.”
Kenny gave him a look, then clicked open the door, using his back to open it. Aaron stepped into the corridor where the PC stood as guard.
“Don’t go far,” Kenny said, voice hushed, then checked his watch. “Get to your lecture. I’ll talk to you later.”
Aaron turned to leave, then stopped, twisting back to Kenny. “If I have any other thoughts I’d like to share, who do I call?”
“Call the Ryston Police Station.”
“And ask for?”
“The detective in charge.”
“What’s his name again?”
“Detective Inspector Bentley.”
Aaron chewed on his bottom lip. “Jack Bentley.”
Kenny narrowed his eyes. “ DI Bentley.”
Aaron nodded. “Yeah. DI Jack Bentley?”
“Yeah.” Kenny’s chest rose, but Aaron twisted on his heel and left, memories flooding over him in waves.