Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 114577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 573(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 573(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
“Surprised to see you in here. Nothing better to do tonight or are you trying to make me fund your new Mustang by putting in all these hours?” Duke asked, on his way to his own office.
I haven’t even got the damn thing yet.
“It’s after midnight, Brian. Go home.” Duke turned off the light and closed his door. His boss looked around at the quiet office. The wide-open space was easier for them to work in and communicate with each other as they broke down cases. Each of them had an executive-style chair and large desk, with both a laptop and desktop computer and enough space to accommodate a big man. They had lots of cool devices and toys to play with, thanks to his brother and his retired military connections. It was the best Brian could ask for in his condition. Even with all his skills, background and Annapolis education, his mutism didn’t exactly make him employment marketable, so he was grateful for Duke.
When Duke left the office, Brian sat staring at his computer screen attempting to get a jump on their next case. His boss probably wouldn’t go after their new skip for a couple of weeks, but what else did he have to do? The car dealer had called to let him know his brand new 2018 Mustang was ready to be picked up, but he’d yet to make his way over there. Sure, he’d love to take it for a spin, but going by himself wasn’t exactly fun.
Brian leaned back as far as his chair would go and put his big boots up on the end of his desk. He pulled out his phone to see if he had any missed messages.
Nope.
Dammit. What’s up with him? Brian couldn’t stop his mind from returning to the night he’d accepted an invitation to a seedy sex club where he’d met a man so exceptional and extraordinary that if it weren’t for the stains on his black pants, he would’ve sworn he never existed. But he did. Sway had existed. He’d made Brian hope again after only being in his company for an hour. In his own amazing way, he’d smoothed his way past Brian’s many defenses and seen what he really wanted. To communicate. A deep desire he thought he’d terminated.
Sway was his co-worker Dana’s best friend—or a more accurate description would be, assumed baby brother. They’d grown up together. And, just when Brian had given up on ever seeing him again, there he was… in Dana’s home, looking and feeling just as good as he had in that club. Brian had been so shocked to see him that it had taken him a minute to compose himself.
Now, the urge was there again. He needed to see Sway. There’d been something there. He knew it. But, it’d been a few weeks since he’d serendipitously ran into him at his brother’s and Dana’s home. Since then, it’d been a vicious game of message tag and Brian had had enough. He pulled up Sway’s thread and typed a new message, even though this morning’s hadn’t been answered yet.
Brian: Hey. I have to pick up something in Roswell tomorrow. It’s about an hour ride. Interested?
Brian tossed his phone onto his desk as if he could’ve cared less if Sway answered this time or not, but when he heard it buzz on the smooth surface, he lunged to grab it so fast he fumbled it a couple of times before gathering himself. He pushed the notification and held his breath waiting for a…
Sway: ‘Damn wish I could. I got work. Sorry.’
Brian reread the sentence a third time, wondering how long it had taken for Sway to send that. Five seconds? Did he even think about it first before he responded right back with a no? Did he even stop to think if maybe he could shuffle a few things around? Couldn’t he have offered up another time to meet? Brian breathed deeply at the rush of disappointment.
He’d been interested in seeing me again. You can’t fake that shit. Why’s he blowing me off?
Brian didn’t reply. He had his answer. Fuck. He wasn’t sure if asking what Sway was doing this weekend would make him sound as pathetic as he felt so, instead of begging like James Brown, he shut down his laptop and locked his desk. He yanked his coat off the hook on the wall—almost taking the hook with it—and slung it over his shoulder. With his keys in his hand he headed towards the front door when he realized he hadn’t turned off the lights in the break room.
Sighing softly, he turned around and walked to the back of the office. He pushed the heavy door open and stepped inside. He hurriedly swiped his hand over all three switches at once. He did it so fast that the snap, and angry pop of the halogen bulb in the tall lamp exploding didn’t register until the door slammed him inside… in the silence… in the darkness… and that was all it took to trigger one of them—a flashback. A flick of a switch and a sound. Déjà vu.