Entre chien et loup
“There was no one there when we went to your daughter’s school,” the officer said, staring at Patrick like he was a lunatic. “We asked the principal and her teachers. She was in class all morning. She agreed to show us her backpack, even. There were no cigarettes there. She’s never seen that man you talked about. Whatever it was, it was just someone trying to scare you. Not much we can do at this point.”
Patrick exhaled in frustration. “What about the texts he sent me? Is that nothing? He’s been stalking me and my family. Sometimes he knows where I am, like he followed me.”
The officer sighed. “So let me get this straight. This man is your ex-boyfriend, right? And you’re saying he’s back in your life after you met him online through that app, Grindr, even though you’re married to another man? Why didn’t you just block the number?”
Patrick didn’t like how this was turning him into the bad guy. He had done nothing wrong. Brandon knew about Grindr. He hadn’t cheated or slept with anyone. He hadn’t blocked the douchebag because he wanted to catch the one harassing his family.
“This message right here indicates that you sent him a picture of your private organ, sir. Maybe next time, be more mindful who you meet on the internet and don’t send random info to them. We went as far as contacting your ex, and he denied everything.”
“He confesses in the messages that it’s him!” Patrick nearly shouted before the expression on the officer’s stern face told him to behave unless he wanted to be locked up. “Unbelievable! Well, thank you for your non-help, Officer,” he said, standing from his chair.
“Come back when you have something tangible. I can’t do anything with this lack of physical evidence.”
Oh, I’ll give you evidence alright , Patrick thought.
He stormed out of the police station and texted Jean-Fran?ois.
PATRICK: Find me his address.
Jean-Fran?ois didn’t reply right away. Patrick walked fast through the streets of Nancy. If the police weren’t going to help, he was going to take the matter into his own hands, once and for all. No one was threatening his family and stalking his daughter.
JEAN-FRANCOIS: Whose address?
PATRICK: You know whom.
JEAN-FRANCOIS : Why?
PATRICK: The cops didn’t help. They don’t care about some queer dude harassing another queer.
JEAN-FRANCOIS: What’s your plan?
PATRICK: Better if you don’t know .
JEAN-FRANCOIS : Because I love you, I’m going to pass. Not giving you someone’s address and having a murder on our hands. You’re on your own for this one, sweetheart.
Patrick cursed out loud when Jean-Fran?ois sent him a kiss emoji, the one with the damn heart and everything. Patrick was fuming. He tried to call his best friend again, only to be met with the voicemail.
“ Putain, c’est pas vrai! ”
He found a bench and decided to do the research himself. It’d probably take him an hour to find the info that Jean-Fran?ois could find in five minutes, but whatever. He sat down and started with Facebook, looking for Cédric Duval. Nothing showed up. He proceeded with the website Les Copains d’Avant, where you could find old friends from school, then the Yellow Pages online—nothing.
When he used Google, he found twenty people with that name. He narrowed it down to the Nancy area and found two persons of that name. He bit his lower lip and sighed. The websites wouldn’t give him the addresses unless he paid to get more info.
Then he looked into the genealogy websites and found one with the entire history of Cédric’s family. Whoever had filled that out wasn’t very cautious. It gave Cédric’s picture, which seemed to be fairly recent. Patrick realized, with a hint of annoyance, that Cédric was still hot as fuck, blond with light blue eyes, his hair cut short. He still had the same straight nose and full lips. He seemed bulky now, more manly than in their twenties when they used to date. The sight of him looking so striking made Patrick swallow down the resentment caught in his throat.
Scrolling through Cédric’s page, Patrick found his full birthday, which he had forgotten, and discovered that Cédric lived in Vandoeuvre. He went back to Google and narrowed his search.
“ Bingo! ”
The page he found led to a Facebook profile of Cédric’s business. His ex was now a lawyer. Patrick had forgotten how Cédric had changed the subject of his studies after their break-up, giving up on psychology to start law school.
“Fuck!”
That sure complicated things. But Patrick was set on teaching the bastard a lesson. He google-mapped the address and headed downtown to hop on the tramway. Then he took the bus. He could have driven his car, but for some reason, he thought it best to avoid proof he’d been in the area.
When he got close to the right spot, he left the bus and walked toward the building.
“ Eh ben, mon coco! Quite loaded, are you? Defending pervs like you, I bet.”
The building had been newly renovated. Patrick wondered if he should irrupt in Cédric’s office or wait for him around the corner. He figured he was less likely to kill the guy if he had witnesses, so he opted for finding his exact office.
He stepped into the building, looking around at the walls covered with white roughcast. The floor was made of white and black square tiles, quite an old style for a place that was newly renovated. He looked at the list of offices at the entrance and found Cédric in a heartbeat.
“Gotcha!”
Patrick headed down the long hallway and took the circular wooden stairs at the end instead of the elevator. Cédric was on the second floor. Without holding the rail, Patrick climbed two steps at a time and arrived at a dark wooden door. The building was dreadfully cold. He gave a slight shiver as he pulled on the heavy door with force and stepped into a hallway, the walls of which were covered in salmon wallpaper and large paintings. The style alone made it feel warmer than the entrance.
He looked around as he walked toward the far end and found the right door. He knocked, then stepped in when greeted with a feminine “ Oui .”
The secretary at the desk looked at him from over her tortoiseshell glasses—a middle-aged lady with a bun, she seemed quite the stereotype with her blouse and what Patrick was sure to be a skirt and high heels hiding under the desk. He wondered if it was her choice, or if sexist Cédric imposed a dress code.
“ Bonjour, ” she said in a deep voice.
“ Bonjour, I would like to talk to Ma?tre Duval, please.”
“Do you have an appointment?” she asked without looking at him as she began typing fast on her keyboard.
“I don’t,” he replied, and she deigned glance at him again from over the rim of her glasses .
“Ma?tre Duval only takes people in by appointment. He’s incredibly busy, you know.”
Patrick felt like replying there definitely were a lot of pervs like him out there who needed representation in court. But he kept his mouth shut.
“Tell him Patrick Lefèvre is here to meet him.”
“He only…”
“It is in his best interest not to make me wait,” Patrick cut her off not so kindly.
She swallowed and blinked only once, then pouted, rolling her neck in contempt. “I can’t promise he’ll be willing, but I can try.”
“ Merci .”
She clicked her tongue and didn’t stop staring at Patrick as if to assess his movement as she pressed on the intercom and called her boss. “There is a Monsieur Patrick Lefèvre here to see you. I tried to tell him you only—”
“Let him in,” Cédric’s voice replied with a heavy sigh.
Patrick batted his lashes sarcastically. She puffed at him and stood, fitting the exact stereotype he imagined her to be, to lead him to Cedric’s office. He followed her and was let into a spacious office. He was a bit irked to realize Cédric could afford to rent a place bigger than the office he himself used to have before moving it into his house during the pandemic.
Cédric was standing behind his desk, defensive and tense. He was dressed in a dark suit, complete with a silver tie.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?” he asked. “Wasn’t sending the cops to investigate enough already? ”
Patrick clenched his jaw. It had been one month since Cédric had claimed to be at Wei’s school, and Patrick had to call the police in an emergency that turned out to be a mess ridiculing him. His visit at the station today was only to know if more was being done since Cédric hadn’t stopped texting.
“They found nothing on me, did they?” Cédric asked, cocky as hell.
Patrick felt like punching the arrogance out of him alright, but he had promised himself not to stoop so low. After all, that was why he was here instead of confronting the bastard in the street. He couldn’t trust himself to restrain his own violence.
“I’m going to ask you kindly to leave my family alone.”
“Why so tense, mon chou ? You’re the one who started it, remember? You contacted me that day on Grindr. You sent me an unsolicited picture of your dick.”
“I didn’t know it was you,” Patrick growled.
“So it’s okay for a married man to send unsolicited pics of his cock to strangers, then? I’ve won divorce cases over less than that, mon poussin .”
“Stop it with the stupid pet names.” Patrick’s body was ramrod straight.
“You didn’t mind using them when we were fucking. Remember how good I made you feel?”
“Asshole,” Patrick grumbled under his breath.
“Did you miss me?”
Patrick hated admitting that he had, all those years ago. Back when they’d broken up, Cédric’s absence had felt like the hole from a dagger in his chest. He’d barely been able to breathe for months. Even now, he hated to admit Cédric was one of the best fucks of his life. Not as good as Brandon, but close behind.
Cédric must have seen something in his demeanor because he smirked. He shifted and moved to the front of the desk to press his ass against it. Fuck, he was gorgeous!
Patrick moved toward him in spite of himself as if magnetized. He came to stand in Cédric’s face.
“ C’est ?a, mon beau . I know you still want me.”
Patrick didn’t reply.
“Let me show you how much.” Cédric grabbed Patrick’s belt and pulled him flush against him. “You never knew how to resist me, and today isn’t the day it’s gonna start.”
He leaned into Patrick and started kissing him, quickly seeking his tongue. Patrick wrapped his hand around Cédric’s jaw and pushed him on the desk, kissing him greedily. When he had him where he wanted him, he went for his belt and undid Cédric’s pants in a heartbeat.
Mistaking his rage for passion, Cédric groaned before Patrick circled his throat with his rough, masculine hand, trying hard not to choke the bastard in his rising fury.
“You like that, huh?” he asked.
Doubt flittered in Cédric’s eyes before he laughed, and Patrick squeezed his jugular just enough to show he was done playing. He was taller than Cédric and had him pinned down against the desk as he leaned over him and whisper-hissed close to his mouth, “You’re going to leave my family alone. You got it? ”
This time, real fear crossed Cédric’s eyes, though he couldn’t nod or move.
“The police might not be taking you seriously, but I know you and your sadism all too well. I’m going to make it real clear what’s going to happen: You’re going to leave my family alone, or next time I come here, I will emasculate you for life.”
With that, Patrick squeezed Cédric’s balls until he whimpered in pain. “I won’t hesitate to cut them off. You hear me? You stay away from my husband. You stay away from my daughter. If I hear you’ve been close to her, you can say bye-bye to your jewels. I don’t give two fucks that you might be Mister Big Lawyer Pants. I’ll ruin you for life. You don’t want to test me.”
Terror was now flowing through Cedric’s eyes as he tried to nod.
“Don’t bother calling the cops and whining about today. You started this, and I’m ending it.”
Cédric blinked his understanding, and Patrick let him go, stepping back. Cédric stood and held his throat, coughing and trying to catch a breath.
“You’ve gone completely insane,” he croaked.
Patrick wasn’t smiling. He felt cold as ice. “You don’t want to find out how insane I can get.”
Cédric nodded shamefully, pulling up his pants. “It was just a game, okay?”
“Your game will turn deadly if you keep it on. And it won’t be deadly for me. Don’t try me again. I don’t give a rat’s ass about jail. Come close to my daughter and see what happens. ”
“Okay, okay.” Cédric raised his hands as a peace offering before sliding his belt through the loop.
When Patrick was satisfied that Cédric understood he wasn’t joking, he left. His heart raced as he waved goodbye to the secretary with a feigned grin. Once in the street, he kept walking until he found a bus and hopped on it quickly, just in case Cédric was suicidal enough to call the cops. Once on the bus, he sat down and texted his husband.
PATRICK: It’s taken care of.
brANDON: The police are going to arrest him?
PATRICK: No. I took care of it.
brANDON: What do you mean? What did you do?
Patrick licked his full lower lip.
PATRICK: Don’t worry yourself with that, mon chaton .
brANDON: Patrick, what did you do?
Patrick sighed and typed.
PATRICK: No one threatens my family. I believe he’s learned his lesson.
brANDON: I don’t know what you did, but please don’t put yourself in trouble.
Patrick sent him a kiss emoji and pocketed his phone. He sat back in the seat and watched the city roll by. He could finally relax. It had been months of him stressing out. Months. But it was all over now.
Cédric knew Patrick well enough. He’d seen him beat up homophobes who’d sought a fight. He knew the rage that burned deep down inside Patrick’s heart, the volcano that boiled from all the injustice he witnessed his community go through each day. Patrick wouldn’t hesitate to unleash that fury and let it all go to hell.
He breathed deeply and closed his eyes, finally at peace.