Chapter 6 #2
But if all Kota required of him was to be told that he wasn’t weird or stupid or embarrassing—that Walker wasn’t mad at him—it seemed very little to ask, seeing as how Walker would not only be asking him to overlook him being a killer, but would essentially be making him an accessory to murder just by being with him.
“Okay.”
There was a long pause before Kota’s swollen face appeared once more. “Okay, what?”
“I can do that. You’re not annoying, I’m not mad at you. You’re not weird or stupid or embarrassing. In fact, I kinda like you in my space.”
The confession came easier than it should have. Disturbingly easy, actually.
Kota’s mouth fell open. “You do?”
Walker shrugged. “It’s only been a few hours, but yeah. You’re like a chattier version of Carrot Cake.”
Kota slowly glanced over his shoulder to where the fat cat lingered on a shelf. She trilled in their direction then stood and turned around, like she didn’t want them getting any ideas about fraternization.
“I-Is that a compliment?” Kota asked.
Walker shrugged, glowering at the cat. “I’m not sure. I just know that most people annoy the shit out of me. I can be around a stranger for about twenty minutes before I start imagining all the ways I could kill them and get away with it. I would never kill you.”
That, more than anything else he’d said tonight, sounded sincere.
Kota blinked at him, looking almost doe-eyed. “Thanks…”
“Sure.”
They fell silent for a while. Outside, rain started to fall, slow at first, then heavier, once more creating a soft white noise.
The steady drumming against the truck wrapped around them, cocooning the cab in warmth and dim light.
They’d been so wrapped up in each other, Walker hadn’t even noticed the rain had stopped at some point.
Kota’s muscles unclenched, his breath evening out. He wasn’t asleep, but it seemed like his panic had dissipated.
Walker found himself listening to the rhythm of Kota’s breathing with the same alert focus he usually reserved for danger.
After a while, Kota asked, “How long until we get home?”
The question hit Walker strangely. Home. Like Kota had already staked his claim on Walker.
Walker shrugged. “Well, I have to meet up with my handlers at The Morgue, and I still have to dismember Early’s corpse and—”
“What?” Kota cried, that tension back tenfold.
Walker frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“You—You didn’t get rid of his body?” Kota asked in a stage whisper, as if the place was bugged. “I-I thought you did that while I was sleeping earlier.”
Walker chuckled. “You thought I disposed of a whole corpse in that short time span? No. I just cleaned up Early’s truck so it would take a little longer for them to realize he was missing and ensure that, if they did discover him missing, nothing in that truck would trace back to you or me.”
Honestly, he’d been pretty proud of the clean-up job.
Kota’s face paled as he looked around the truck warily. “So…where is he?”
“There’s a false wall built into the cab,” he pointed with his thumb over his shoulder. “There’s a freezer in there. I’ll stop at a spot I know along the way and cut him into more manageable pieces then scatter his body along the highway.”
“Oh, my God.”
“I’m not gonna make you help,” Walker assured him. The thought of Kota anywhere near a bone saw felt oddly offensive.
Kota gave him an incredulous look. “What if the cops pull you over?”
Walker scoffed. “They won’t.”
He said it with the absolute confidence of a man who had transported human remains across multiple state lines before.
“But what if they do?” Kota insisted, hand gripping Walker’s shoulder tightly.
The panic in his voice sent another strange flicker of satisfaction through Walker. Kota was scared, but he was scared for Walker, not of him.
Walker sighed. “If they do, they won’t find anything.
There are some trailers that have false walls that gangs and cartels use to smuggle drugs or humans.
The compartment I customized is built right into the cab.
And it’s refrigerated. They’ll never find it, because they wouldn’t even know to look for it. ”
“What did you tell the people who built this rig for you? Didn’t they want to know why you needed a hidden separate compartment that was refrigerated?”
Walker found his concern amusing. “I told them I’m a hunter and that I needed a place to store the meat when I’m doing long hauls.”
This time, it was Kota who scoffed. “They believed that?”
“I’m pretty convincing when I want to be,” Walker said. It wasn’t arrogance if it was objectively true.
“What happens to me if you get thrown in jail?” Kota whispered.
The question hung strangely heavy between them, like he’d already made Walker his protector. Or maybe Kota was just afraid he’d also end up in prison.
Walker slid his hands up into Kota’s hair, tugging softly. “Then you can tell them I kidnapped you and that you’re just another victim.”
Kota flopped back onto the mattress, crushing Walker’s arm beneath his weight. “I wouldn’t do that. You…saved my life. I wouldn’t do you dirty like that.”
The loyalty in his voice hit Walker like a brick. He had to stop this. He had to stop thinking of Kota as something permanent in his life. He was an anomaly, a temporary bug in his programming. He wasn’t a permanent fixture.
He needed to distract Kota somehow. “You already did me pretty dirty a few minutes ago. Or I did you…”
Kota’s eyes went wide. “Did you…just make a joke?”
Walker let his fingers trail down Kota’s belly. “More of an innuendo, really.”
His skin jumped beneath Walker’s touch, hypersensitive and warm.
Walker watched the muscles twitch beneath his fingertips. Kota really was pretty. Walker wanted to fuck him again. He wanted to pin him down and use him, breed him without a condom, claim him from the inside out.
The possessive thoughts came fast and instinctive, startling only in their intensity.
Walker’s head jerked upwards as Kota gasped. “What?”
Kota stared at him. “You were looking at me like you were considering adding me to your freezer.”
Kota’s chest rose and fell rapidly, his pupils dilated. He really was the perfect prey. Pretty and twitchy, ready to run at a moment’s notice. His little squirrel. Walker rolled on top of him, pinning him beneath him. Kota didn’t fight back, just stared up at him with wide eyes, lips parted.
The look should have felt vulnerable. Instead it felt trusting, which somehow affected Walker even more.
Walker gathered his arms over his head, pinning his wrists in one large hand. “Trust me, the thoughts I was having had nothing to do with putting you in my freezer and everything to do with keeping you right here in my bed, by any means necessary.”
The words came out rougher than intended, honesty bleeding into them before Walker could stop it.
“Oh,” Kota gasped. “I mean, I-I don’t exactly have anywhere to go. I’m kind of your prisoner, right? You could technically do whatever you wanted to me. Right?”
Walker’s cock thickened at the words, but beneath the arousal was something sharper. Possession. Need.
“You gonna let me do whatever I want with you, squirrel?” Walker all but purred, taking Kota’s bottom lip between his teeth and tugging until he gave a wet little gasp. “That’s a very dangerous invitation for a man like me.”
“I’m not afraid of you…”
The breathless surrender in his voice made something primal unfurl inside Walker’s chest.
Walker captured his mouth in a filthy kiss, swallowing the high-pitched whine that escaped Kota. “That’s good,” he said against his lips. “You just keep being good for me and I’ll make sure you have whatever you want.”
“Whatever I want?” Kota whispered.
“Yeah.”
“Oh…” Kota looked down at Walker’s half-hard cock, then back at him. “Okay.”
“But for now, you need some sleep. We’ll pick this back up when we reach our destination.”
Kota’s face fell. “Oh. Yeah, right. I am kinda tired.”
Walker dropped down beside him, turning himself into the big spoon. Kota sighed. “Night.”
Walker pressed his face into his messy hair. “Sleep tight, squirrel.”