Chapter 23
You Get Some, You Lose Some
Thorsen
“What the hell was that all about?” Bazooka said, motioning for another round. “You looked like a rabid dog when I came to your place.”
“Nothing,” I replied, looking around the bar. “This place looks different.”
“Things have changed a bit, yeah. Moira is gone, as you can see. She got pregnant and quit. This place is less classy without her, if you ask me.”
I nodded in agreement, taking a sip of my beer.
“I have great news about Boggs, by the way,” Bazooka said. “The chief pulled some strings. Some doors opened. It’s too early to tell where they will lead, but I think you will be back with us sooner rather than later.”
It was the last thing I wanted to hear, and my face gave it away.
“I thought you would be happy,” he said with a frown. “What’s the matter?”
I shook my head, unable to find words after everything that happened this evening. Or didn’t happen. Was Carter jerking off? I would give both my kidneys to find out. It sounded that way. He was awfully quiet.
“This isn’t about that guy, is it?” Bazooka guessed my troubles. “That… What’s his name?”
“Dominic Carter,” I replied, dragging my hand down my face. “Fuck.”
“You didn’t really mean it when you said you’re in love or some shit?”
“I’m crazy about that guy,” I admitted, staring at my glass. “I never felt this way about anyone before. I swear to you, Levi…. I never felt this way. Everything about him… I like everything about him. Everything. And I don’t want anyone else. I want him. Only him.”
After my verbal vomit, he just stared at me, and I couldn’t blame him one bit.
“Tye… damn.”
“Yeah. Damn.”
“But isn’t he, like… straight?”
It was a million-dollar question. Because was he? Still?
“He says he is, but… erm… we really clicked, and at times it feels as if there’s more, you know?”
Levi shook his head in disapproval.
“Don’t go there, Tye. Even if it’s true, you know the chances of him acting on it are—”
“Next to nothing, I know, but—”
“Look, if you want your heart broken, fine, but I’ve seen it happen too many times. Straight dudes are a big no-no for a reason.”
“Are you talking out of your experience?”
Only when I said it did it occur to me that I had no idea if he was gay or straight, or anything else. He was always just… Bazooka. Efficient, emotionless, and deadly. And always alone.
“Nah,” he replied, staring into the distance. “I’m not cut out for that relationship shit. But you… you deserve someone who deserves you. Repeat after me.”
“I deserve someone who deserves me. And that someone is Dom.”
He rolled his eyes. “You’re hopeless. And the next round is on you.”
When I got back to my place, it was almost three a.m. I was drunk and tired, and my heart ached, along with my head and my dick. I collapsed on the bed and dialed Carter’s number. He wasn’t answering, so I listened to it ring until I passed out.
When I woke up around noon, I had a marching band playing in my head. I drank a bottle of water and puked my guts out. After that, I called Carter again, but it went straight to voicemail. And that marching band still played in my head. Relentlessly.
I took a long, cold shower until I felt semi-human again, and brushed my teeth. When I came to the bedroom and saw a text from Carter, I breathed a sigh of relief.
Carter: Can’t talk now. At work.
After that, I went to the police station and had a long fucking day. The evidence was inconclusive, the witnesses nonexistent, and another young woman was dead. So, we went from door to door. We spent the day talking to neighbors, friends, and relatives. Searching the database for more clues. Talking to the other cities about other cases. The work was exhausting, but what bothered me more was that I couldn’t reach Carter. My calls to him went unanswered, although I got a few cryptic texts, like, “It’s not a good time,” “It’s a shitshow around here,” and “I’m going to kill Adam, I swear.”
He was busy. I got that. I knew how Chief Bibb could be a mean S.O.B., and I tried to be understanding, but I didn’t like it. It was just too weird that he couldn’t find a minute to call me back, and I started to fear that Bazooka was right. And so, the days passed, filled with hard work, fatigue, and heartache. My nights were filled with want, anger, and helplessness. On the morning of the fifth day, after I texted Carter that I was coming back, I got a text and a Hawaiian shirt emoji.
Carter: I can’t wait to see you again.
I bit my lip and grinned. Fucking asshole.
Me: Can’t wait to see you, too, babe.
After that, I picked up my duffel bag and left the apartment.
When I arrived in Shitsville, driving like a bat out of hell, it was already dark. I parked in my usual spot and rushed into the building, running up two stairs at a time. I knocked on Carter’s door, relieved to hear footsteps on the other side when the door opened, and I saw Vicky standing in the doorway.
“Tye! What a nice surprise. I haven’t seen you in ages.”
I swallowed what felt like sand in my mouth, mumbling, “Hi.”
“Do you want to come in?”
Her words were chipping away at my heart piece by piece, so no wonder I didn’t answer her question. I had no clue what I wanted. In fact, I knew exactly what I wanted, but I had a feeling it wasn’t available anymore. Before I could say anything, a large hand appeared on the door, pushing it wide open.
“Thanks, Vic. Erm… Wait for me inside, yeah?” A deep voice rumbled.
When jungle green eyes found mine, heart sank to the fucking ground. He was there, in front of me, but he could have been on the moon. He was equally unreachable.
“Seriously?” I said with a smirk.
It was all I could muster. In fact, I was surprised that my mouth formed the word, and my brain thought of it.
“I know this isn’t what you expected.”
His words caught me off guard. What did I expect? I was trying to figure it out when I remembered Bazooka’s words.
Even if it crossed his mind, you know the chances of him acting on it are…
Next to nothing.
Carter’s gaze slid down my chest, and then lower, pausing on my dick for a moment before returning to my eyes. He blushed, and rightfully so, because he just ogled me. So, I returned the favor. I looked at him from head to toe, every black-clad, delicious inch of him, especially the inches next to his thigh, presently swelling under my stare. I ate him with my eyes, concealing nothing because I had nothing to hide, unlike that motherfucker.
“I tried to tell you,” Carter said in a low voice, stepping toward me. “I mean, I wanted to, but…”
When I imagined our reunion, I never pictured myself standing outside his apartment like a stray dog. Standing on the inside, sure. Fucking him against the door, hell yeah. In fact, in my head, I fucked him against that door in so many ways, I could have written a new and improved Kama Sutra. But I never imagined this.
When his scent reached me, my dick hardened, despite the pain and the rage, and my heart smashed into pieces. I looked into his eyes, hopefully conveying it was time for him to leave, or there would be consequences. Those meant my fist in his face and my tongue down his throat, and maybe even my dick in his ass, not that he deserved it.
Could he read my mind? Because he turned red in the face. Could he see it? The fucking? The cock sucking? The ass eating. The cum sliding down the door, both his and mine? The mindless rutting… fucking climax after climax. Could he see it as I saw it?
He got some of it because he mumbled, “Was I supposed to throw away three years of a relationship just like that?”
I had to smile because he was just… hilarious.
“Of course not,” I said, finally finding my voice. “You fucking hypocrite.”