Ground Zero, page 26
part #1 of Zero Hour Series
“Do you want to live the rest of your life without finding out?”
Sawyer thought about it and remembered the way he felt when Locke kissed and touched him. If the connection he felt to Locke were only physical, he wouldn’t care so much about the man’s secrets. He wouldn’t worry about lessening his pain. He wouldn’t have drunk himself into a stupor.
“Patience it is then.”
“That’s my boy.”
Relentless.
When Sawyer stepped onto the pitcher’s mound on Victor Ruiz Jr Field four hours later, he felt much better. The headache and fatigue had disappeared, and his nausea hadn’t returned. His slightly red eyes were the only telltale sign of his wild night. Luckily, he could hide them behind sunglasses on a bright, sunny afternoon.
The announcer had extolled his late husband’s virtues as an educator, coach, citizen, husband, and a son over the PA system before Sawyer strode out onto the field wearing a jersey with Vic’s baseball number and last name embroidered on the back. Sawyer adjusted the brim of his hat and nodded dramatically as the seven-year-old catcher squatting behind home plate. The boy ran through a few signs Sawyer shook off for show before nodding on the sign for the fastpitch. Sawyer went through the familiar motions of a wind-up then released the ball at half the usual velocity so he didn’t accidentally hurt the kid.
The pitch crossed home plate as a perfect strike, landing in the catcher’s mitt with a solid snap. The crowd for both teams cheered as Sawyer jogged over to shake the catcher’s hand and wish him luck, When the boy turned around to join his teammates, Sawyer saw the name Wilkes stitched on the back of his jersey. It was probably a common enough name, but then he got that tingling sensation. Fuck. He tried to ignore his spidey sense that told him Royce Locke was near, but he couldn’t help himself.
After hugging Vic’s parents and his family, Sawyer gave in and glanced around the ballpark. Locke was easy to spot with his messy hair and bad boy aura softened by the little boy sitting on one leg and Bailey sleeping against his chest. Beside him, Candi clapped and cheered on her son and his teammates as they took the field. Sawyer didn’t need Locke to take off his sunglasses to know he was looking at him. Sawyer felt it to his core.
“Is that him?” Evangeline whispered.
“Yep.”
“Oh my.”
“Yep.”
The two families had lunch together to celebrate the new field and catch up. They raised their champagne glasses in a toast to Vic and had an enjoyable meal. No one brought up the fact that it was Vic and Sawyer’s anniversary, but Imelda’s brown eyes shimmered with bittersweet memories. She hugged him tightly when they said their goodbyes outside the restaurant.
“I love you,” Imelda whispered in his ear. Then she thanked his parents for honoring Vic in such a beautiful way. “I know he’s smiling down on us right now.”
Maybe not all of us, Sawyer thought wryly. His mother smirked, letting him know she’d read his mind. Get out of my head, woman.
His sister and brother-in-law invited him over for dinner, and as much as he wanted to spend time with his nieces and nephews, he needed some quiet time. He assured them all he wouldn’t be moping and promised his mother he’d spend his Saturday night sober. When his doorbell rang a few hours later, he expected one of his well-meaning family members was checking up on him.
He flung open his door and said, “Not moping. Not dr—” His words skidded to a halt as did his ability to think when he saw Locke standing on his porch.
“Hi.” Locke sounded nervous and looked uncertain. “I’m not drunk either. I assume that’s what you were going to say.”
Sawyer swallowed hard. “What are you doing here?” he asked.
“I just came by to see how you are doing. I figured the field dedication might’ve been tough. The kids loved you, by the way.” That made Sawyer smile because he had enjoyed giving them a pep talk before throwing the first pitch.
“Do you want to come in, or are you satisfied I’m okay now?” He sounded pricklier than he meant and groaned. “Scratch that. Come in and have a beer with me.”
Locke eyed him suspiciously. “Are you trying to get me drunk so I’ll take advantage of you?”
Sawyer laughed then walked back toward the kitchen, leaving the door open for Locke to leave or follow him. “Idiot,” he tossed over his shoulder.
The front door clicked closed, and he heard Locke following him. “That’s an improvement over dickhead. I’m glad your date last night put you in a better mood.”
Sawyer pulled two bottles of beer from the fridge and handed one to Locke. “My date was a fucking disaster, but you made sure of that, didn’t you?”
Locke blinked in surprise. Sawyer wasn’t sure if it was due to his bluntness or lack of animosity in his voice. If he wanted something with Locke, he couldn’t be pissed that the idiot ruined his chances with Levi. Could he?
“At the risk of causing an argument, how did I ensure your date was a disaster?”
“According to Levi, you showed up at his café smelling like me and insinuating you were the reason I didn’t make it in to see him.”
Locke shrugged. “What part of that was a lie? It wasn’t like I told him you pinned me to the leg curl bench and rode me until we both came. I might’ve smelled like you, but he smelled your soap on my skin instead of your dry cum.”
Sawyer had loved feeling their combined releases on his skin, had loved the way they smelled. His nostrils flared as did the desire to do it all again.
“Oh God,” Locke groaned, turning his back on Sawyer while running his fingers through his hair. “I honestly didn’t come here to pick up where we left off in your gym.”
“Then why did you come here?”
Locke faced him and lowered his hands. “I meant what I said. Today had to be tough, and I wanted to make sure you were feeling okay.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” Sawyer said. “Today is also our wedding anniversary.”
“Tell me about him,” Locke said. “From the things the announcer said, Vic Ruiz was a great man. I already knew that though because you loved him. Not just anyone is going to win your heart.” Sawyer thought he detected a longing tone in Locke’s voice, but he chalked it up to wishful thinking. “Tell me about the Vic you knew, and when I’m stronger, I’ll tell you about the Marcus I knew.”
It was a deal Sawyer couldn’t resist. They moved into the living room where Bones waited for them on the back of the sofa. His cat made a real slut of himself purring and preening while Locke repeatedly petted his sleek fur from ears to tail, stopping only to scratch his ears or chin. Watching them interact was soothing, and he opened his mouth and let it all spill out.
“I met Vic not long after I graduated from law school. It was love at first sight. I felt like someone had run me over with a Mack truck. Everything just clicked between us. We moved in together not long after we started dating and built a life together. Marriage was something we never dreamed we could have until the Supreme Court ruling in 2015. We got married at the courthouse the very next week much to our mothers’ ire. Suddenly, dreams of a family were also coming true. We had just taken the first legal steps to become parents. We’d researched and discussed using a surrogate or adopting overseas but decided to become foster parents and adopt the kids as our children. A few weeks later, Vic was diagnosed with stage four colon cancer. He had already started planning rooms for our future kids we hadn’t met and couldn’t wait to coach Little League baseball. When he died three months later, I didn’t just lose Vic, I lost the family we were supposed to have. I couldn’t function for months. That’s when my problems started at the sheriff’s department. The old bastard could deal with me being gay as long as I was doing things that garnered good press.
“He thought I was a weak pussy for needing time off to grieve for Vic. When I returned to work, Wheeler made my life hell. He gave me shit tasks and wrote me up for anything and everything he could, trying to get me to quit. I wouldn’t let him win. I couldn’t. One day, he went too far. He’d made a remark that colon cancer was the least punishment fags deserved.” Beside him, Locke sucked in a sharp breath. “It took four deputies to pull me off him. It was the final straw. My father is one of the most respected litigators in the state, and we sued the county. They settled out of court on two provisions: I was to keep quiet about what happened, and Wheeler was to undergo sensitivity training. I donated the hush money to the charity my parents established in Vic’s name. I kept my end of the bargain, and he did too as far as I know.” Sawyer looked at Locke. “I don’t know who went to Felix Franklin with the story, but it wasn’t me. I kept my word.”
Locke gently set Bones on the arm of the couch then slid over until they were pressed together. Looping his arm around his shoulders, Locke pulled Sawyer into an embrace. “I know you kept your word, Golden Boy. I also know you’re going to meet another guy someday, and although he probably won’t be as awesome as Vic, he’s going to love you like crazy. You’ll have a houseful of kids together. I’ll be their favorite uncle, regardless of how many they have. There will be birthday parties, sleepovers, Little League games, and more chaos than you can imagine. You’ll doubt your sanity and tell me all about it while we’re chasing down leads. Then I’ll remind you how much you wanted a family, and I’ll try really hard not to resent the air your husband breathes. No promises though.”
The mental images created by Locke’s words were beautiful and heart-wrenching. He would be a bystander, a favorite uncle, a partner on the force, and a friend, but he wouldn’t be the one building a life with Sawyer. He hardly knew anything about Royce Locke, so it was totally stupid for him to grieve a relationship that would never be, but mourn it he did.
He recalled what his mom said about their souls recognizing each other and his commitment to be patient while Locke figured things out. So, instead of admitting defeat or acting on the attraction they both felt, Sawyer gave him a squeeze then eased out of his arms.
“Do you want me to talk to Levi and assure him I’m not a threat to him? Maybe you guys can give it another go?”
“First, there’s no way you could convince him of that. Second, he’s allergic to my cat.”
“He’s gotta go then. Bones comes first.” Getting over Royce Locke just became that much harder.
“Are you hungry?” he asked, signaling that deep conversation time was over.
“There are two things I’m always in the mood for, and eating is one of them.”
Sawyer chuckled. “Come on, I’ll wow you with my burger-grilling skills.”
“I love a good burger almost as much as I love—”
“Locke,” Sawyer warned.
“Okay.”
Grilling burgers and watching baseball with Locke turned out to be a fantastic remedy for the tough day, even if it didn’t include touching or kissing or mutually pleasing orgasms.
Patience, Sawyer.
He’s late again.
Sawyer had lost track of how many times Locke hadn’t shown up for work on time during the next two weeks. That alone would be enough to raise a red flag, but he went on high alert once Locke started disappearing after receiving mysterious phone calls, and witnessing Locke and Stein huddled together having private chats in her car behind the precinct. She’d even tracked them down in the field. There was nothing sexual about their demeanor, so either Locke was assisting her with undercover work, or they were both on the take.
Don’t be ridiculous.
Locke always had a valid excuse for why he’d been late or had to step away from the job for a few minutes. Candi had needed him, or he had an appointment, or a family matter to handle. Locke had always been referred to as a wild card, but the words “dirty cop” had never been used to describe him. Sawyer needed to believe his behavior was legitimate, but that brought up a different set of concerns.
Sawyer had hoped they would grow closer if he were just patient enough. Locke had sought him out to offer friendship and a broad shoulder to lean on the day of the diamond dedication. He’d seen it as a step toward something special, but he’d had the rug yanked out from under him the following Monday when he’d shown up at work. Locke wasn’t as cold and dismissive as he had been the prior week, but he was more distant and aloof than Sawyer expected after the time they’d shared at his house.
He chalked it up to Locke not being a Monday person, but Tuesday hadn’t brought an improvement, and neither had Wednesday. Locke had grown more distant with each passing day until they barely spoke unless it had something to do with a case. The other detectives in their unit noticed and looked at Sawyer with pity in their eyes, which had only pissed him off. He desperately needed something to happen to get his mind off his partner.
Sawyer got just that when Rocky Jacobs had texted his personal cell phone Friday morning before he left the house and requested a meeting away from the precinct. Sawyer had a feeling the private investigator had found something significant and hoped it was the break in the case they needed to bring Miller to justice for his crimes. Jacobs wanted to meet at eight at a bookstore slash café called Great Grinds and Book Finds located a few blocks from the precinct. Sawyer agreed to the time and place then forwarded the details to Locke.
“He’s late,” Rocky said, glancing at his watch for the dozenth time since they sat down. “Should I just tell you what I’ve found out or—”
“We wait,” Sawyer said firmly then took a sip of the salted caramel coffee. It wasn’t in the same ballpark as Levi’s. Just thinking the man’s name caused a twinge in Sawyer’s chest. Levi had expressed a desire to be friends with him but hadn’t responded to any of his texts or returned his calls since their failed date. Sawyer had figured it was a lost cause and had given up. He just wished he could do the same with Locke. “He’ll be here.”
Locke arrived a minute later and sat in the chair next to him, reeking of sweat, booze, and something else Sawyer was afraid to name.
“Rough night?” Jacobs asked him.
“Something like that,” Locke said with a leer that made Sawyer’s stomach clench. “Get to the point of this clandestine meeting so I can get a shower before my shift starts.”
“An all-nighter, huh?” Jacobs asked, ignoring Locke’s terse command. “She wouldn’t even let you use her shower? Tough lady. Your prowess in bed must be highly exaggerated.”
“Fuck you.” Locke scooted his chair back and started to rise until Sawyer placed his hand over his forearm, stilling him.
It was impossible to deny the energy crackling between them, but Sawyer pushed it aside to focus on the meeting. “What do you have for us?”
“You’re not going to like it,” Rocky said.
“We seldom do in these situations, Jacobs,” Locke said tersely. “Quit dicking around and get to the point.”
“Marla Edwards isn’t the damsel in distress you believe her to be,” Jacob said, pulling no punches. “She’s been in contact with Miller.”
“How do you know this?” Locke asked in disbelief.
“You’re better off not knowing.”
Sawyer snorted. “And you just expect us to take your word for it.”
“Nah,” Jacobs said, pulling a small MP3 player out of his pocket and a set of wireless earbuds. “You need to listen to this.” Sawyer took one earbud, and Locke took the other. Once they were in place, Jacobs hit the play button.
“Baby, I know you’re mad at me, but please hear me out.” The sound of Miller’s voice made Sawyer’s skin crawl. Beside him, Locke tensed, but Sawyer didn’t look at him.
“There’s nothing left for us to say, Wayne,” Marla said. Her tone wasn’t the least bit set or firm, and Wayne sensed his opening.
“I shouldn’t have hit you, baby. It was wrong of me, and I promise it will never happen again if you give me another chance.”
“You said that the last time and look what happened. I still have bruises on my face, and my ankle is swollen from where I twisted it when you knocked me down.” Marla’s voice cracked, and she started to cry. “I thought you loved me, but if you did, you wouldn’t have hurt me.”
“Baby, my emotions were running extremely high. The cops are trying to pin something on me I didn’t do. I thought they’d turned you against me too, and I reacted badly. I’m very sorry. I miss you so much, Marla. I can’t stop thinking about you. I can’t sleep at night, and I can hardly eat. I’m so lonely. My body aches for you, baby, and jerking off while fantasizing about fucking your big titties isn’t working for me.” Fucking gross, but they were getting to the real reason Wayne was calling Marla. He must not have found a replacement for her on the compound.
Marla released a long sigh. “I miss you too, but what can we do about it? You left me alone here.”
“Just hearing your voice is helping me.” Wayne lowered his voice a few octaves. “And making my dick hard. Are you wearing that sexy nightie I got you for your birthday?”
“Yes,” she replied breathlessly.
Sawyer thought he might be fucked up for life if he was forced to listen to them having phone sex. Beside him, Locke must’ve known what he felt because he started to chuckle. It was the first sign of humor he’d seen out of his partner in two weeks, so maybe he could sit through the shit show if it meant seeing happiness in Locke’s eyes. He risked a glance at Locke then regretted it because he was dying to kiss his smirking lips—consequences be damned. Marla’s next words broke the spell.
“Is that why you called me? You just want me to talk dirty in your ear while you beat your meat?”
“Not the only reason,” Wayne said shakily then groaned.
“If you want me back, you’re going to have to come and get me,” Marla said firmly. “Prove you love me and want to be with me. Prove you’re sorry.”
“Baby, I can’t,” Wayne whined. It was apparent Marla’s demand was killing his mood. “The cops are watching me. Or is that what you want? You want me to go to prison for something I didn’t do? They’ll paint me a Nazi and a racist then throw me into general population where some guy named Tiny, who happens to be the size of Montana, will decide to make me his bitch. He’ll pass me around to all his friends. Is that what you want for me, Marla? You want me to die a broken and battered man on a cold prison floor?”
