Zero at the Bone (62 page)

Slowly, they began to rock together as one, friction inside and out warming them and bringing sweat to their pores, D’s mouth hard and insistent on Jack’s as his thrusts grew harder and faster. He propped himself up and stared down into Jack’s eyes, his defenses leaving him as his body flew to another peak; Jack saw the horror of whatever had happened on this last job show through D’s eyes as the rising tide of his passion dragged other emotions up from the seabed to crash upon the shore. He looked confused and even frightened; he was pounding Jack now with panicky intensity. Jack gasped as D

stroked his insides, his orgasm peaking fast and hard; he shot upon his own stomach, grasping D’s face in his fingers as D screwed his eyes shut and came with a shout, gasping and crying out, then… crying. His face creased and pulled against itself, tears squeezing out from under his eyelids. He fell against Jack, shaking and trying to swallow it back.

“It’s okay,” Jack whispered, holding him tight. “Let it out.” He wept quietly for a few moments, and then got himself under control. He stayed where he was, head tucked into Jack’s shoulder, still nestled inside him.

“What happened, baby?” Jack murmured, letting a seldom-offered endearment slip from his lips. “Can’t you tell me? You’re so torn up; I hate to see you like this.” D sat up abruptly, pulling out of Jack with a suddenness that made him wince a little. He turned away, wiping at his eyes, and put his legs over the side of the bed. Jack sat up and folded his legs under him, staying quiet and letting D manhandle the words out Zero at the Bone | 289

of his mouth in his own time. “Case went bad,” D finally said, his voice low and scratchy. “Real bad.”

“You want to talk about it?”

D shook his head. “No. But I think I gotta.”

“Okay.”

He was quiet for a long time, just sitting there at the side of the bed, his hands gripping the edge, his head hanging down. “Jack, I…,” he began, halting. “I think I need… can ya, uh….”

Jack knew what he couldn’t ask for. He slid forward and snuggled up to D’s back, then wrapped his arms around him from behind. D relaxed a little, his hands coming up to grip Jack’s where they rested on his chest. He leaned the side of his head against Jack’s for a moment, then straightened up and began to speak.

“Her name was Jennifer Nang. She had a seven-year-old son, Evan. She didn’t know what kind of man her husband was before she married him. She left him when Evan was five. We got word through the channels that the husband put out a hit on her and the boy.”

“His own son?”

“Weren’t nothin’ ta him but a prop, a trophy. Knew the best way ta threaten the mother was ta threaten the child. So we take them both inta protective custody. Got folks watchin’, but far as we can tell nobody’s taken the hit. Ain’t too many pros who’ll do a child like that. Even we got standards.”

Jack bit back a comment at D’s use of the pronoun “we.”

“Anyways. We was gonna hand ’em off ta some federal marshals this mornin’.

They had a safe house set up ’til the Bureau could arrest the husband; they was workin’

up a case. Myerson asked me how much muscle ta put on the little cabin where he had

’em. I said two men. If nobody’d taken the hit, weren’t much danger yet.” D sighed, a sigh of such bone-deep weariness and despair that it made Jack’s lungs hurt in sympathy.

“When the men on the door didn’t make their check-in, we went out ta see what was up.” He fell silent and stayed that way for some time. Jack just sat holding him, feeling deep tremors in D’s guts and wondering what had been horrible enough to knock D for such a loop. He was a little scared to hear about it, but he would. “They was dead.

Both dead. Mother and child, both our men. The men just shot, but the woman and the boy….” He shook his head. “I ain’t never seen nothin’ like it. Nobody had.” Another long pause.

“They didn’t kill Jennifer. She was tied to a chair, but… they didn’t touch her. She was shot once through the head, but they didn’t do it.” Jack didn’t understand, but he said nothing, just let D get around to it in his own time. “The boy, he… he was….” D’s body shuddered. “What was done ta that child I couldn’t hardly get my mind ’round. What they done ta him. He was beat, burned, tortured, raped, the worst things you could imagine, they done it. And they made her watch it all.” Jack felt like throwing up. “Jesus.”

“Made her watch ’til they finally let him die. Then they put the gun near her hand, loosened the rope and left. She worked her hand free and shot herself.” Jack pressed his forehead to D’s shoulders, holding him tighter. “Oh my God, Anson.”

“Nobody knew how ta deal with it. I had a forensics tech throwing up in the bushes.

Went out for some air and one a my agents was sittin’ in his car bawlin’ like a baby.”

“What about you?” Jack whispered.

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“Me?” D snorted. “I jus’ did my fuckin’ job. Put my head down and did it. Jack… I tell ya, whoever done this ain’t nobody I ever heard of or seen. Never known no pro ta do somethin’ like that. Took hours, what was done. Don’t make no sense. Ya want somebody dead, ya shoot ’em or poison ’em, ya just get it done. Ya don’t do somethin’

like this unless the point is the doin’. Whoever done this done it ’cause he wanted ta do it.

That is somebody the sun don’t like ta shine on.”

“This wasn’t your fault,” Jack said.

“Coulda put more men on that door. Didn’t think they was in no danger yet, but hell was I wrong.”

“You aren’t all-knowing, D. You did what you thought was best.”

“Sound like Myerson. Could be yer right. It’s still on my head ta find who done it, though. And I am gonna do that.” He squeezed Jack’s hands tighter. “I agreed ta come home early ’cause… I jus’ had ta see you,” he whispered. “Saw her body and couldn’t stop thinkin’ ’bout how near that was ta bein’ you, at my own hand even. Couldn’t stop thinkin’ how near I came ta pullin’ that trigger on you, how much I woulda missed, how much I don’t deserve any a this, how many folks I done left in much the same way.” Jack silenced him with his lips on D’s cheek. “Shh,” he said. “Thought we were past this.”

“Ain’t no past it, Jack. You think I don’t know what ya gave up ta be here with me?

The kinda compromises yer makin’ in yer own head?” Jack said nothing, thinking of Raoul Dominguez, safe as houses, to buy Jack’s life.

“Let’s not talk about that now.”

“You never wanna talk ’bout that. You afraid a what ya might say?” Jack sighed. “I just don’t know what more there is to say.” D shook his head. “Times it gets ta be too much. Just reminded me again how I almost….” He turned and faced Jack, his hands going to Jack’s shoulders. “If I’d a gone through with it I’d be dead now,” he said. “Not just ’cause Josie was gonna turn me in. I was right on the fuckin’ edge, Jack. Ta think ’bout how close I was ta killin’ you,” he said, his voice choking and wobbling over those words. “And if I had I’d a never known what I’d really done, who it was that I’d taken from this world or how much the world needed him. Tears me up thinkin’ on never knowin’ you or lovin’ you. Cain’t hold it in my mind too long before it burns.”

“You didn’t do it, because that wasn’t who you really were.” D let his hands fall away from Jack’s body and into his own lap. He stared down at them. “I don’t deserve you, or none a this,” he murmured.

“Jesus, D. Can we not do this again? That is just another way for you to disengage.

If you don’t deserve us then you don’t really have to work at being a part of this relationship, do you?”

“Christ, ya know I fuckin’ hate it when you talk like a shrink!”

“Then don’t make me do it! It doesn’t matter if you deserve this or not; you’re here and I’m here and this is what we’ve got. Maybe I don’t deserve it, either.”

“Why, you got a trail a fuckin’ bodies behind you that I don’t know ’bout?” Jack grabbed D’s face in his hands. “Look at me. I can’t spend the rest of our lives repeating myself. I want to be with you, and to do that I have to learn to live with your past. I’m not going to tell you I’m fine with everything; you’d know I was lying.

Nothing’s perfect. Neither of us can do anything about what’s happened in the past. I’m just….” He paused, surprised to find himself choking up. “I’m just grateful we have each other now,” he said past the lump in his throat. “And all we can do is make it good.” Zero at the Bone | 291

D reached up and clasped Jack’s hands in his own, bringing them down between them. “I came home early ’cause the whole time I was in that room with those bodies, all I could think about was that I hadta get ta you as soon as I could and tell ya I love you,” he said. “Love you so much that… well, don’t hardly know what ta do with it most a the time.”

Jack smiled, the lump in his throat growing larger. D didn’t say that very often. He leaned forward and pressed his forehead to D’s. “I love you too,” he whispered.

THEY threw on boxer shorts and went downstairs to find something to eat. They ended up sitting on the couch in the den eating leftover Chinese food straight out of the carton with pretzels and Twizzlers on the side.

“I’ve got a… thing tomorrow night,” Jack said through a mouthful of kung pao chicken. “Abe Avendale is moving to Tucson, and he’s having a going-away party at his house. I’m more or less obligated to put in an appearance. I’ll make it as quick as I can.”

“Mmm. Don’t hafta.”

“You just got home. I don’t want to be gone all night—”

“I’ll go with ya.”

Jack blinked. “You… you will?”

D shrugged. “Yeah, what the hell. Frank says I oughta try talkin’ ta some regular folks now ’n’ again.”

“I knew I liked Frank.” Jack grinned. “Well, good then. Oh, and I have some news!”

“Yeah?”

“I talked to my broker and he says that I ought to be able to pay you for half the house in a few months.”

D paused mid-chew, then slowly set down his carton of lo mein. “I told ya you don’t gotta do that.”

“I know. I want to.”

“Bought this house fer you. You don’t gotta pay me for half.”

“I don’t
want
you to buy me a house, Anson. It isn’t a gift like a new tie or a bike.

It’s something we ought to share.”

“Why cain’t ya jus’ let me do that?” D said, getting agitated. “Lemme spend this damn money on somethin’ good, take away the stain a how I earned it!”

“Fine, you spent it on something good. Now I’ll pay you for half with the money that I earned fixing faces. Nothing wrong with
that
money, is there?”

“Why you gotta be so stubborn ’bout this?”

“Because I’m not your little wifey, D!” Jack exclaimed. “I won’t be set up in housekeeping like a mail-order bride! I don’t need you to support me. Do you know how much money I make? What else am I going to do with it? Buy fancy cars and gourmet coffee?”

“Y’always said ya wanted ta travel.”

“I’d love to travel, but you won’t go anywhere.”

“I gone places with ya!”

“Yeah, we had our little tour, but since you started working it’s been all I can do to get you to go down to Hocking Hills for the weekend.” D’s face fell. “You don’t like Hocking Hills?”

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“I like it fine, but….” Jack eyed him. “What?”

“I was gonna take you down there next weekend. Once that boy’s surgery’s done.” Jack sagged a little. “Oh. Well, that’s… nice. But if he has complications I won’t be able to leave.”

“He’ll be fine. We’ll go on down and get a cabin and spend the whole weekend in the hot tub.”

He nodded. “All right, D. All right.”

TWO A.M. and D was wide awake. He lay in bed with Jack in his arms, sleeping peacefully against his chest, his breath stirring the sparse hair there. After their improvised dinner they’d spooned up on the couch under an afghan and watched the news, then Jack had taken his hand and led him back upstairs to their bedroom where they’d made love again, slow and more thorough, leaving any and all troubling discussions aside.

He looked down at Jack’s face, his dark lashes lying against his cheek. He lifted a finger and riffled it through the soft hair at the nape of Jack’s neck, feeling that still-strange bubble of contentment swelling in his chest, always surprising that such an emotion could be his.

D had never imagined he could be as happy as he was with Jack. Their relationship wasn’t perfect. His long absences wore on both of them. His happiness was perpetually tinged with fear that it’d be taken from him, not to mention doubt that he deserved it. His instinct to take care of Jack drove Jack crazy. Jack’s recklessness about his own safety and freedom with their private details drove
D
crazy. And always, always there was the elephant in the room that they both saw but did not discuss: the fact of D’s criminal past and what he’d done to ensure Jack’s safety.

He had to make himself believe that these things could be overcome. He didn’t know if he could change. He often doubted it, and just waited for the day it became too much for Jack, and he’d lose him. But for now, he could just enjoy that surge of joy that came through him when he got home and saw Jack smile at him, that big happy grin that seemed to say that D was all Jack had been missing to make his life complete. He could relax in the company of someone who truly knew him and accepted him, even if he hardly understood how that was possible. He could hear Jack call him “Anson” and feel that the name was his to bear again.

And it was… peaceful. Life with Jack was peaceful, and peace was a strange thing to his soul. Even if Jack was continually trying to drag his ass into a greater participation in the world than he would have preferred. He could stand it if that was Jack wanted.

He’d never dreamt of having the kind of sex life he had now, either. His relations with Sharon had been perfunctory, obligatory, pleasant but sometimes hardly worth the trouble. Sex with Jack, on the other hand, was… well, he wasn’t sure he could describe it.

It was humbling to know that Jack could have him panting like a dog, groveling at his feet if he so desired. He was powerless before his desire for Jack, and that was scary sometimes, but the payoff was well worth the sacrifice in the self-control department.