Jumping at Shadows (22 page)

T.J. was on his feet now, naked and sweaty, with Eric’s cum still streaking his stomach, but remaining stiff and wary as he watched Eric dress, clearly uncertain whether he should intervene, or how. Eric ignored him as he pulled the sweatshirt over his head.

“So who is he?” Eric demanded once his head was clear of the collar, whirling on T.J. as he shoved his arms into the sleeves. “Who was driving the Lexus? You know, don’t you? Or didn’t he tell you the specific names?”

“Eric—”

Eric made a bitter sound as he buttoned and zipped his jeans, at the same moment moving through the door and vanishing down the hall. T.J. followed him out, entering the kitchen just as Eric bent down to where his leather bomber lay on the floor. Eric continued as if he knew T.J. would come after him.

“All this time, this whole last year when we’ve been following Victor, getting close to him, getting everything we needed to put him away, you’ve been telling him every move we made, giving him everything we had.” Eric let out a small, humorless laugh as he snatched up the jacket, his words continuing as his hand sought out the pocket. “And I was giving you exactly what you needed. I always told you what we were doing, what we found, where we stood, what we were going to do next. Against regulations, against department policy, I always told you.” He turned as the jacket dropped from his fingers, leaving only the gun in his hand. “
And you told Victor Kroger!
”

“
What?
Eric!
” T.J. moved, but the gun came up in the same instant, freezing him midstep. Eric had consistently qualified as expert in pistol marksmanship during the precinct’s annual firearms training, but expert qualifications weren’t necessary in the tight space between the kitchen and the hallway. The barrel was aimed squarely at T.J.’s chest, right where his heart would be, and he was close enough that there was no chance of missing. Neither blinked as their eyes locked and stared.

Eric swallowed, but the gun never wavered. “We vowed we would never keep secrets. I told you everything because we shared
everything
!”

“Eric, put the gun down.” T.J. spoke levelly, keeping his hands visible, not moving more than what breathing required.

“
I told you everything!
”
Eric hissed viciously. “Everything, T.J.….”

“Eric, no,” T.J. whispered softly. “Don’t do this, baby….”

A sharp ring cut the air between them, and the gun swung recklessly toward the wall, its aim landing squarely on the phone even before the ring had ended. It swung back to T.J. an instant later, but T.J. hadn’t moved beyond the twist of his neck. The silence was thick in the stillness that followed, and it was threatening to become smothering before it was broken by the second ring.

“Eric, sweetheart—”

“Don’t. Move.” The utter calmness was back, and Eric waited only a moment before bending to retrieve his shoes from where they lay near the wall. Neither said a word as he put them on with one hand, and though the gun shifted slightly, it never left T.J. completely. T.J. made no effort to move from his place, not to reach for Eric, not to smooth the goose bumps on his naked skin. The phone rang two more times before the answering machine picked up, and Eric stomped to settle his feet in the Timberlands as the line immediately clicked off. The silence was almost deafening once Eric finished dressing, and only then did he stop and stare at the naked man in front of him.

The suddenness of the moment hit Eric hard. There was nothing else to do. He had already called T.J. on the lie they had been living, and he had given them both the gift of letting T.J. fuck him one last time. Now time was up. Now was the moment he had tried to prepare himself for since the realization had crashed down on him in the warehouse, when he had finally understood that the last eight years of his life were nothing but a lie. Now was the moment in which he had to decide whether to kill T.J. or arrest him, and his heart seized when he realized that the decision to do either had suddenly become far harder than he had imagined it would be. Now, when he was looking into the eyes of the man he had loved so completely, the man he had married and had planned to spend his life with.

The man whose betrayal he had never seen coming. Sweat prickled his palm as his fingers flexed on the grip.

“Why, T.J.?” he asked quietly, his voice coarse but steady. “Why would you do this? Why would you lie to me for so long?” He swallowed and blinked away the tears that had started to sting his eyes. “God, I was so in love with you. We were perfect. Despite everything else wrong in this world, we were perfect.”

T.J. had begun a slow shake of his head, but Eric didn’t want to hear anything he had to say. He didn’t want to see the desperation written so clearly in his face, the heartbreaking tenderness that filled his eyes. He didn’t want….

T
HE
ringing of the phone startled them both, and then Eric moved like a shot, whirling away from T.J. and lunging for the door, hands scrabbling to pull it open as T.J. surged after him.

“Eric!”

A chair rattled against the floor as T.J. flew past it, leaving the phone ringing and ignored. “
Eric!
”

But Eric was gone. Icy air swept over T.J. as he stopped just outside the door, the cold biting into his flesh as he stared at the gray, empty winter in front of him. Eric had vanished around the corner of their house, although in which direction, T.J. had no idea. The sudden helplessness he felt was overwhelming and crippling, filling him with a paralyzing numbness that was quickly turning to panic as he stood naked in their driveway, not even aware that the answering machine had picked up behind him.

“Geller! Pick up the phone!
Now
!”

T.J. whipped his head back to the kitchen as the words cut the silence, his eyes finding the answering machine before he was even halfway through the door. He immediately recognized Capt. Carroll’s voice, even though he didn’t hear it often. But it wasn’t just the captain that he heard on the line at that moment. More importantly, it was the sound of help.

“Geller!” the captain repeated to the machine. “I’m not playing around with you, damn it!
Pick up the damn phone!
”

T.J. yanked the receiver to his ear before the machine turned off, his eyes glued to the open door leading out to the late-afternoon winter.

“Get your ass down here!” the captain got out the instant he heard the phone pick up. “Davis finally made your connection—”

“Captain, it’s T.J.,” T.J. breathed out heavily. “Eric’s gone. I need your help….”

“T.J.?” the captain repeated. “Where the hell is Geller? What do you mean he’s gone?”

“I mean he’s gone!” T.J. almost shouted. “He got some notion in his head that I was working for Victor Kroger, and he—”

“He
what
? What the hell are you talking about? Where is Geller?”

“He’s gone!” T.J. did shout this time, and then drew a heavy breath as he raked his hand through his hair. “He ran out the door, and I can only think he’s going after Victor! He’s not thinking—”

“All right, slow down, Briscoe,” Capt. Carroll broke in, his voice now fully and completely that of the Captain of the Investigative Division of the Breten City Police Department. “What exactly is going on? Slowly and clearly.”

T.J. told him in short, blunt sentences, uninterrupted by so much as a word from the other end of the line. The silence when he was finished lasted only a moment.

“Geller is out of his mind and running loose. And he’s fucking armed! Goddamn it!” A long, heavy breath followed another muttered curse, but when the captain spoke again, his voice was even and controlled. “All right, I’ll get men out looking for him. You stay right there until you hear—”

“Not a chance!” T.J. cut in sharply. “This is Eric we’re talking about.”

“Stay there, Briscoe! By your own words he is armed and dangerous, and we don’t need any more victims in this disaster!”

“No!” T.J. repeated harshly, scrubbing the heel of his hand across one eye. “Eric is out there, and God knows what he’s thinking. And I’m not staying here when he needs help. You can get your men out looking for him, but I can’t just wait here and hope nothing—”

“Shit!” The word was nearly a hiss, but a clearly defeated one. “Goddamn it! All right, Briscoe, stay there and wait on me. You hear me? You stay there, and I’ll be there in twenty.”

“That’s too long—” T.J. began, but the captain cut him off cleanly.

“T.J., wait there. We don’t need another missing person to look for.”

It was the use of his first name in that low and steady tone that brought T.J. abruptly to silence. Capt. Carroll rarely used it, although the effect of it this time was immediate. T.J. slowly let out his breath as his gaze traveled unerringly back to the door.

“I’ll be by to pick you up, all right? Just stay there.”

“All right, but hurry,” T.J. said at last, hanging up without waiting for an answer. He breathed heavily from his lungs, running both hands through his hair before bringing them together over his mouth as if in prayer. This couldn’t be happening, he told himself. Two weeks ago they were elated and relieved that the whole operation of nailing Victor Kroger was coming to an end. Last night they had slept wrapped in each other’s arms. Half an hour ago they had been having sex in their bed. Now….

T.J. closed his eyes and drew a shuddering breath. The captain would be here in twenty minutes. Swallowing hard, he moved to the bedroom to gather his own clothes from where they lay scattered on the floor.

Chapter Fourteen

C
OLD
sleet peppered his face and arms, and his fingers had grown numb around the grip of the gun. His nose and ears burned, and he knew he would never make it to the warehouse where Victor had last been known to hold his operations. Not if he had to make it on his feet. Not when he had left his leather bomber on the kitchen floor. Not when it was in the warehouse district on the other side of the city. He flexed his fingers again. He needed a car.

The soles of his Timberlands slid just a little as he shifted his position to get his bearings. Ice crunched under his feet as he swung around to take in every direction. He was nearly to the main road, the one that led to the heavily traveled highway leading into downtown. Veering over a block or two had hopefully been enough to keep T.J. from following him, and the few times he had stopped to watch behind him, crouched and shivering behind the trunks of trees or scraggly, ice-brittle shrubs, had so far proven that true. Although fairly certain now that he was alone in the outside world, there was no question that he stood out clearly to anyone looking out their window.

He would be obvious to any car passing on the road, too, but given the day, the time, and the weather, he wouldn’t likely see many, which meant that waiting for a car would be a long and cold proposition. He couldn’t spend the time. He didn’t
have
the time.

He’d made a mistake leaving T.J. in the house a few blocks away, whole and uncuffed, free to call Victor and warn him that the game was over. But he hadn’t been able to do it. Despite his training, despite the lies T.J. had told him, despite how much he had told himself that there was no other way, he hadn’t been able to arrest his former husband and lover when the moment had come. Not there, in the kitchen of their home, with their sweat and cum still staining their bodies, with the pain and the heartbreak so evident between them. It had been too much, and he’d made a mistake. One he couldn’t afford to make again.

He had to find Victor, and find him before he could react to T.J.’s warning. The warehouse was the only place he could think of to start. Or at least to regroup and plan his next move. Once Victor was put away, then he could deal with T.J.

Letting his breath out in a cloud in front of him, he turned from the road to follow the sidewalk of the house on the corner, noting the ice-coated concrete leading up to the short uncovered porch and solid, white wooden door. Light glowed dimly behind the shades over the front-room window on the right. An icy SUV sat parked in the driveway on his left.

A Toyota Highlander, he noted, following the lines as he stepped carefully up the sidewalk. Gold and only a few years old, heavy enough to handle the roads in winter, though it lacked the snow tires that would have given it additional traction. Eric nodded slightly. Not his first choice, but it would do.

Making little effort to conceal the gun in his hand, he rang the doorbell.

“
H
OW
the hell did he get a gun?
”

Those were the first words out of the captain’s mouth when T.J. slammed the door closed on the unmarked Ford Explorer, and T.J. rubbed his hands together in front of him as he was immediately encased in the heat barreling out from the heater turned up full blast on the dash.

“He bought one,” T.J. bit out. “Did you see him?”

“No,” the captain answered shortly. His lips tightened under his mustache when T.J. nailed him with a stare; then he finally let out his breath as he swept a hand over his bald crown to the gray-speckled fringe of his hair. When he looked at T.J. again, resignation was clear in his dour expression. “Every car available is swarming this neighborhood looking for him, or they will be soon enough. He’s on foot, and he couldn’t have gotten far. Now put your damn seatbelt on.”