32. Salem
SALEM
T hree weeks and no leads. The detective got ahold of Denzel’s squad mate. Our only potential source of info, and he couldn’t tell us anything. Apparently, he was so out of it, he didn’t even remember Denzel being there. The hospital visitor logs confirmed Denzel visited over a few days.
No leads.
It always comes back to this.
No matter how hard I try…
What I achieve…
The choices I make…
How hard I hold on…
It always comes back to one unshakeable truth—very little in life is in my control.
Denzel knows what his disappearing did to us last time. There’s no way he’d have willingly done it again.
Which could only mean he’s gotten into a bad place somewhere.
Mom’s frantic, calling me nonstop to make sure I’m okay. Dad’s chest pains have returned, and he has to see a cardiologist next week.
“Where are you?” Blue shifts on his knees and frowns.
I look down at him. “S-sorry.”
His thumb swipes across his wet bottom lip. “It’s okay if you’re not in the mood.”
“I am. My bad.”
My head falls back as his tongue returns to my slit.
He, well, us , is another area I can’t control.
I want more, but the voice telling me not to push is strong.
I think we’re shifting. He’s still taken by surprise for a few seconds whenever he calls, and I pick up.
The night before my game in Denver, I was settling into my hotel room when my phone lit up.
For the first time ever, he FaceTimed out of the blue.
“Hey, yo ? —”
A woman’s shriek pierced through the phone, as a blur of dark hair flashed by the screen.
“S-Saahh—hehe! Salem—hff!—s-top—hihh— trying to get meee. Stahp!”
“Who’s this?” I asked as out-of-control laughter blared over the line.
“G-hff!” Blue’s voice cut in.“G-gimme…the phone!”
A door slammed shut, and a smear of color flitted across the screen before a twisted neck and mop of curls appeared, revealing Blue’s sister.
“It’s you,” I said.
“Bestie!” Her head swiveled to glance over her shoulder, and then she took off. “Wait—hehe—no, listen—guess what Arnie—ohmygod—hff!—s-top—when I asked—wait!—if you and him—Stahp!”
“Leave her alone, Blue!”
“She’s toast!”
“Wait!” she shrieked as the sound of footsteps drew near. “Stah—Lemmetellhim!”
Hazy shapes and muffled laughter mixed in with Blue’s “Lehh—it—nnngh!—g-go! Ow!”
There was an oof as the screen landed against a patch of gray.
I waited a few seconds, then called out, “Proof of life, please.”
The phone scratched against the gray before Blue appeared, T-shirt ripped, curls in disarray.
“Um, clearly you won,” I deadpanned.
“Oof!” He lurched forward as Ana?s’s head appeared over his shoulder and her arms wrapped around his neck. “Get off of me.”
She didn’t budge as he tried to shake her off his back.
“I’m gonna DM you!” She winked into the camera.
“No!” he protested.
“Blue, let it happen.”
“Aww, you have a nickname for him?” she cooed.
I grinned, and Blue blushed.
“Who let the two of you loose on Philadelphia?” I asked.
“I crash his road games a few times a year,” she replied, bouncing over his shoulder as he walked them back to what I guessed was their room.
“Which I’m starting to regret,” he said, offloading her with a soft thump. “I’ll be back. Order food, demon.”
“Salem, I’m DMing you now for us to grab dinner when I’m back,” she called.
“It’s a date,” I replied as Blue rolled his eyes and shut the door. “Stop frowning. I’ll always like you more than anyone else.”
His blush returned.
“Hi.”
“Hi.” His eyes widened as they darted right, and then his fingers flew through his curls.
“I’ve already seen you.” I snickered. “You’re sexy messy.”
He tugged on his bottom lip. “What are you doing?”
“Just got to my room. You wanna tell me what that was about?”
He joined the two rips of his collar and tried to pat them back together as he said, “It was nothing.”
“About next week…”
He glared at me. “You’re canceling?”
“Nah. Just three weeks feels like a year sometimes, doesn’t it?”
Brows easing, a faint grin ghosted the corner of his lips. “Yeah. Like five years.”
“Wow!” My jaw hung open. “Five years.”
“Shut up.”
“Nah, you can’t take it back.”
“Oh god.”
“How do you even focus, missing me so much?”
“I’m hanging up.”
I leaned back, scooting down until my neck hit the pillow. “I miss you times five years too.”
He rolled his eyes but didn’t try to hide the spread of a smile.
“I heard you’re cooking for us this time,” I continued.
“Fuck you.”
I laughed. “Okay, let me let you get back to my new bestie.”
“Wait! Tell me about your day.”
And, damn, if the need in his voice didn’t make me light up. Or the way he slid down the wall and listened as I told him about my boring day, and then he told me about his.
When we were finally going to hang up, the question of us being exclusive burned on my tongue, and I saw myself asking, and his soft, unguarded eyes darkening as his walls returned, and I choked.
Instead, I said, “I’ll see you next week. Good night.”
And then I’d laid there, swimming in thoughts like:
It’s been going well, don’t mess it up.
He told you he isn’t the committed-relationship type. Instead of trying to force him, respect where he’s at.
Is he seeing other men when we aren’t together?
There’s so much more I want to tell him—like about Denzel being missing.
Why haven’t I told him about Denzel?
“ Seriously!”
My eyes fly to Blue’s glare. “Shit. I’m sorr?—”
He jumps to his feet. “Bring the lube.”
“What?”
He races toward the door buck naked.
The hell?
“Yo!” Yanking up my boxer briefs, I shuffle to my feet. A tight squeeze has my gaze dropping to my dick.
When did he roll on a condom?
I kick the bottle of lube across the floor. Swiping it up, I race after him.
I yank open the door, and a feral roar, jagged and raw, cracks the air.
My heart rages in my chest as he stands in the middle of the forest, heaving from unhinged laughter as icy rain pelts and pebbles his skin.
“Damn, that felt good!”
He throws his head back, fists balled, activating every taut muscle of his body, eyes closed, neck vein protruding, fat cock swinging between his thighs, and lets it rip.
His howl vibrates through the air, firing an electric charge in my chest, the weight of my control unraveling, pressing against my lungs, dragging higher and higher until a blue-black sound rattles my ribcage, tilts my face to the wrathful sky, and kicks free of my restraint.
He’s right there with me, a blood-red, bone-chilling roar, lashing and slaughtering the wind.
The weeping sky answers to the dominion of our gut-hollowing purge.
Scraped from our blood, bones, and sweat— media, headlines, slurs, humiliation for clicks, silent bystanders, missing brothers.
Madness returned to the damp earth pulsing under my toes.
Blue beats his chest, and I don’t have to touch them to know his tears are hot like mine.
Trembling as the window to my senses cracks open, and I surrender to the thrum in my blood, cleansing everything that is not us.
His gaze collides with mine.
As if he senses the fierce protection pulsing in my chest, his mouth slackens, and the lines of laughter vanish from his face.
Our chests rise and fall in rhythm as we meet each other with nothing between us.
I start toward him when he charges, tackling me to the ground.
Sharp razors cut through my pecs. “Fuck me like it’s me you’re inside of,” he growls, ripping his teeth from my skin.
My vision wipes out until he’s pinned under me, my hand wrapped around his throat, his legs creating a door across the mud.
I scrape my teeth across his neck.
His eyes mirror the dark sky, the only warning before his legs coil around my torso, and air whooshes from my lungs as my ribs press in.
Even now, as his dick stabs into my stomach, I must earn his submission.
I yank his curls, lifting his face, and then I clamp onto his lip until I taste iron, and he drops his knees.
Uncurling my hand from the lube, I squeeze some into my mouth, sink my chest into the mud, and lower my tongue.
His thighs cradle my head as he writhes against my mouth, and I lick and finger him open.
A growl rumbles from my chest, and I bite the inside of his thigh until he releases his erection.
I scrape the bottle of lube off the forest floor and watch him wet his lips as I sit up, pull out my sheathed cock, and douse it with the liquid.
“Look at me,” I order when his eyes roll closed.
I throw his legs over my shoulder, folding him in half as I press my forehead to his, and cry out as I sink into his tight heat.
Warm velvet and molten silk envelop me like a second skin, molding around me and receiving me perfectly.
My fists burrow into the earth.
What power has given me the restraint to breach but not storm these walls I claim as my home?
My name is his chant—his eyes, stained glass windows into a soul I’ll worship until my last breath.
Mine.
Yours.
Ragged moans echo as I tunnel deeper. Mud-covered fingers scrape at my back. I breathe against his mouth, ascend the ridge of cheekbone, and drink in the waters breaking through the mountains.
Cry. Let go, Blue.
Come home to me.
Wet, cold air spirals around us, thrashing the storm-drunk trees. I flow, submerge deeper, deeper still.
Hurtling wind and storm and slow-building rapture.
Look! We’re the center of our own vortex, baby.
Sinking into the slick earth.
His lips wrap around my nipple.
My hips stutter.
His tongue laves my pit.
My thighs tremble.
Cries of mercy.
This is wholeness.
My teeth sink into his neck.
I shed restraint.
Tongue drinks iron.
Flesh pounds flesh.
Sob-soaked exaltation.
You arch and howl.
You cling to me.
You call for god.
You shudder.
You release.
I hold it all.
I’ll.
Never.
Not.
Hold.
It.
All.
Unsheathed.
I give you what you ask for.
Cradled against your tongue.
Puffy eyes, bloodied lip, and bruised neck.
One, two, three glides.
I’m undone.
Chest caved in surrender.
Pulsing.
Coating.
Painting.
You in all of me.