Page 17

Chapter 17

Benji Morrison

My only goal was to keep Elijah safe. To get us both out of the theater and as far away from the threat as possible. But when the crowd burst into a run, that job became much, much more difficult. Someone knocked against me. Another ran between Elijah and me, breaking my hold on his hand. He reached out to grab it again but was pushed to the side, away from the exit.

The cops were trying to regain the peace, but it was a lost cause. Everyone was terrified that they were moments away from being blown to bits.

Fear tried to sink its gnarled claws into my chest, but I fought it off. Had to keep my mind clear.

Had to protect Eli.

I shouldered someone out of the way and pushed toward the wall where Elijah was plastered. He couldn’t fight the flow of panicked people.

“Benji!”

“Everyone remain calm!”

“I’m coming,” I shouted, almost reaching him just as the lights flickered before shutting completely off. Emergency lights flared white, casting a ghostly glare on the scared expressions. The alarm continued to blare, every ring feeling like a hammer against my skull, trying to knock me out.

“Come on,” I said, reaching Eli and grabbing his hand again. We began to move with the flow of evacuees instead of against. Every second counted. This was likely a false alarm, but there was no need for us to find out. Elijah’s hand squeezed mine so tight I was sure I’d be getting some type of hairline fracture before he let it go.

The first breath of fresh air tasted like heaven, even with the sewer grate pumping out steam only a few feet away from us. The flow of people split in different directions down Broadway. I yanked us to the left and toward the bright lights that marked Times Square.

Elijah looked over his shoulder as we hurried down the street. Even people who weren’t in the theater were beginning to run with the crowd, sensing that something was wrong. Police sirens echoed between the skyscrapers as a bomb squad squeezed through the congested streets, pushing cabs and delivery trucks nearly onto the sidewalk.

Times Square—normally chaotic even on a good day—was packed to the brim with frightened and confused people, a mix of tourists trying to get selfies in front of the massive screens, other people shouting to run and to get out of the way, and knock-off Disney characters in dirty masks asking for money. Spider-Man lifted up his mask, looked at the large group of police trying to regain control, and said, “Fuck this shit,” before running past us.

“This way,” I said, breaking away from the scared flock of people. “We can take the train to my place.”

“Hold on,” Eli said, his hand squeezing mine. “I don’t think I can get on a train right now. Or any enclosed space.”

“That’s fine. Totally fine. We can walk it.”

“Sorry.”

“For what?” I asked.

“Well, one for making you walk, two for making you come to the theater, and three… I can’t help but think this had something to do with Nomad.”

That had been a thought that crossed my mind, too, but I didn’t want to say anything before getting confirmation. The last thing I wanted was for Elijah to think any of this was his fault. “Let’s just focus on getting home and getting safe. We can figure out the rest later.”

Eli let out a heavy sigh. My heart cracked for him. The protective lion inside of me roared to life. If I could get my hands on this Nomad person, I’d wrap them around their neck and squeeze tight until the light leaked from their eyes and the last of their breaths squeaked out of their throat. It was infuriating in ways I hadn’t experienced before. Never once in my seven years of being a detective had I been this personally invested in a case. I knew the logical thing would be to take a step back. Put some distance between me and Elijah so I could think clearly and work more efficiently.

But that was the last thing I wanted.

We walked in silence for a few more blocks, Elijah likely processing the events. I kept my attention on our surroundings, making sure no one had followed us from the theater. There hadn’t been any sounds of an explosion, so I had to assume that it was a false alarm.

We reached my apartment building after about twenty minutes of walking. “How are you feeling?” I asked as we reached my front door.

“Better after getting fresh air.” He offered me a weak but genuine smile. His lips were glossy from the lip balm he’d applied minutes earlier.

Fuck. I wanted to lean in and kiss him. Would that have crossed a line? How odd, this human experience of ours. This man had been balls-deep inside me, fucking me senseless and filling me up with multiple loads, and yet here I was, wondering if he’d be freaked-out if I kissed him.

Fuck it.

I made a choice. Maybe it wasn’t the smartest, but it was the one I wanted to make. I leaned in and kissed him. Short and quick and full of flavor. Strawberry, to be exact.

When we broke apart, I half expected him to look confused, but instead, that genuine smile of his only grew wider. He licked his lips, gaze turned up to lock with mine. “What was that for?” he asked.

“I couldn’t resist. Sorry. Blame it on the adrenaline.”

“Adrenaline, huh? If that’s the case, then damn, I’m an adrenaline junkie.”

I laughed, the sound almost foreign after everything that happened tonight. I opened the door and let Lucky run out, tail wagging and claws clicking against the floor. We got his leash on and took him for a quick walk around the block. We were standing on a corner talking about random bullshit when Eli surprised me by initiating another kiss, going up on his tiptoes and pressing his lips against mine with a soft moan.

“Sorry,” he said, wiping his lips with a thumb. “Adrenaline.”

“I wonder what the evolutionary purpose of that is.”

“Huh?”

“Why adrenaline makes people horny. Were the cavemen running from saber-toothed tigers and then being like, ‘We made it out alive, let’s fuck’?”

“Probably. That’s what I’d do, anyway. Celebrate life and release some endorphins. Why not?”

“True, true,” I said, my thoughts shifting into caveman territory. We’d basically just survived our own saber-toothed tiger attack, so did that mean it was time for us to fuck like rabbits? My cock twitched at the thought, even though Eli had just swallowed my load not that long ago.

Ugga, ugga.

Back in my place, I went straight for the fridge. Eli was still in the living room, so I quickly pulled out the vodka bottle, uncapped it, took a chug, shook it off, took another shot, and then recapped the bottle.

There, that’d help take some of the edge off.

I put the vodka back in the freezer and grabbed a wine bottle instead. A little classier. I uncorked it and filled two glasses. Some of it sloshed out of the glass, splashing on the counter. I wiped it clean before I walked back out to the living room, finding Eli sitting cross-legged on the floor with Lucky curled up in his lap.

“You two look comfortable,” I said, setting Eli’s glass of wine down on the coffee table in front of him.

“He’s such a cuddle bug.”

“He’s a good pup.” I sat down at the edge of the couch. Eli lifted his glass and clinked it against mine. “Cheers to…”

“To another unforgettable night,” Eli finished, sarcastic and smiling.

I tried not to think about how momentous this was.

Elijah Grant, the man I’d been fixated on through a computer screen for months on end, was currently sitting on my floor, breathing my air, comfortable in my space.

Weird how life worked.

“We’ve had quite a few unforgettable nights already, huh?”

Eli let out a huff. “Feels like we’ve lived lifetimes together now.”

“Sure has.”

“I was so happy about tonight, too. Excited. I hadn’t been to the theater in so fucking long. And I couldn’t even finish the show. Ugh, it was so good, too.”

“It was. Had me cracking up. Intermission also wasn’t bad,” I said, nudging him with my knee. He shot me a smirk.

“I agree. Can’t tell what I liked more, if I’m being honest, intermission or the show itself.”

“We’ll just have to go back and finish it,” I said. “That way, you have more to base your judgment on.”

Eli laughed at that, scratching Lucky’s head. “Thanks for coming with, by the way. I know it was last minute. I’m just used to always going with someone to things. It would usually be my sister. She loved Broadway, but, well, yeah.”

“I’ll gladly join you on anything. Besides, I don’t think you should be alone these days.”

He dropped his gaze to the wineglass in his hand. “Yeah… you’re right.”

“You mentioned your sister. You two close?”

“Pfft, hell no. We used to be. She used to be my best friend. Older than me by only a year, so we were pretty much always together.”

“What happened?”

“A man happened. She started dating this crazy, controlling douchebag. My sister—she always had the biggest heart—but she also had terrible judgment in character and would always end up with the worst kind of people. She fell in with this guy, a gang leader, and she completely changed. And—forget it, it’s too fucked-up to even say.” There was a tightness in his voice that made my heart crack.

Why was his life so full of people who wanted to hurt him?

It made me unreasonably angry.

“What happened?” I asked.

“It was the first time meeting him. At a Christmas Eve party. My parents were cooking the pig, the eggnog was flowing, the Christmas songs were blasting. It was great. Until he realized I was gay, that’s when shit hit the fan. He started telling my sister to ‘get the fag out before he did it himself.’ And he was clearly carrying a concealed gun because his hand would float over his hip when he said that.”

My fists clenched. Red filtered through my vision. “Seriously? What did your sister do?”

“She tried to get him to shut up at first. I could tell she was uncomfortable. But he wouldn’t stop. And then my mom was getting scared. I was about to leave, but my sister and her boyfriend left first. I haven’t talked to her since. It’s been almost seven years now.” He swirled his wine and chugged a heavy gulp.

“Fuck,” I said. “Toxic masculinity is a fucking plague.”

“It really is. What was he so scared of? That he’d catch the gay by talking to me? That I’d suddenly snap and lunge for his dick with my mouth? Like… what the fuck?”

“I think it comes from a deep unhappiness and an insecurity. They see someone like you living their fully authentic life, and they become reminded about all the shit they’re suppressing, all the joy they’re missing out on, just to play that typical ‘masculine’ role.” I shook my head, the anger still bubbling inside me. “Either that, or he’s a closet case and was upset he was fantasizing about being with you and not your sister.”

“We do look kind of similar.”

I laughed at that, although there was an obvious gloom in the air now.

“How ‘bout you? I want to know more about your family situation. I know you had difficulties with your parents…” Eli asked. He gently nudged Lucky off his lap and moved to sit on the couch directly next to me. The cushion sunk and pushed my leg against his.

Hah. My family situation. “Difficulties, that’s funny. It’s a fucking shitshow.”

“Really? Damn, sorry.”

I wasn’t entirely used to talking about my parents like this. My close friends, the few that I had, all knew about my family life, and it was never discussed with any of the random guys I’d dated over the years. None of them ever wanted to get that deep.

So bringing it up with Elijah felt odd but also rewarding. Like I was giving him a piece of me in the same way he had just done. “My dad basically lost everything we owned with his gambling. We moved into my grandma’s two-bedroom apartment in Jersey. I slept on the shittiest pull-out bed in the living room from when I was eight to about fifteen. I think my back is permanently fucked because of it.” Memories of those days flashed into my mind like footage from a grainy video recording. Details weren’t easy to make out, but general scenes were.

My mom and grandmother getting into a shouting match on my birthday. A wine bottle shattering. My mom’s hand bleeding buckets onto the floor. More shouting.

My dad turning his anger out on me after he had a terrible night on the poker table, smacking me repeatedly with a sandal until I was black and blue because I was a wild teenager who had the audacity to ask him if I could hang out with a friend.

My best friend at the time, Michael, taking me into his home. He was my knight in shining armor, my first true support, and my first-ever obsession. I started to excel in school, gained weight, didn’t smell like shit all the time because I had a washer and dryer that actually worked. I remembered how his father being a detective was what pushed me into my career.

Michael… He was someone I couldn’t talk about. What had happened to us, to him—it still hurt far too much. Like saying his name would sink a serrated knife straight down my throat.

“Now my dad’s dead and my mom is who the fuck knows where

Elijah’s expression softened. “Shit. I’m sorry, Benji.”

I took a slow sip of my wine, using the moment to gather myself. “Don’t be. He made his bed. It’s not like we ever had a great relationship to begin with.” I let out a humorless chuckle. “Pretty sure the last words he ever said to me were something along the lines of ‘you’re a fucking disgrace’ before he lost everything in one last, desperate gamble.”

Eli exhaled, tilting his head as he studied me. “That’s really fucked-up.”

“Yeah, well. It is what it is.” I kept my voice light, but I could feel the old weight pressing against my ribs. My dad had been a piece of shit, plain and simple. I didn’t miss him. Didn’t mourn him.

At least, that’s what I told myself.

“And the last time I tried reaching out to my mom, she told me to fuck off, so…”

Elijah frowned, his thumb tracing the rim of his wineglass. “People are so fucking cruel.”

“Yeah.” I let out a slow breath, forcing myself to shake off the dark memories. “But, hey, it worked out in the end. I got out, made my own life.”

Elijah smiled, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “You’re a good guy, Benji.”

I scoffed, taking a sip of wine. “Debatable.”

“No, really.” His voice softened. “The fact that you turned all that shit into something good? That you’re out here helping people, protecting them?” His gaze flickered over me, lingering for a moment too long. “I don’t think you give yourself enough credit.”

I didn’t know how to respond to that. So I just took another sip of wine.

We lapsed into silence, comfortable and unforced. Elijah shifted on the couch, stretching his legs and leaning against me. His warmth bled through my shirt, and before I could think too much about it, I slung my arm over the back of the couch, letting him tuck himself against my side.

It was so fucking easy.

Too easy.

“So,” Eli said. “Do you think you’d come see another show with me sometime?”

I chuckled at that. As if there was somewhere I wouldn’t go with this man. “Of course. Do you have any you want to see?”

“I’ve been really excited about One Last Stop. And It Devours looks good too. That one has crazy practical effects.”

“Let’s do both then,” I said as I tried not to focus on the intense heat that radiated out from the spot where Eli’s hand rested against my leg. “Although I think I may have to wear a chastity belt so we could focus on the show.”

Eli’s laughter sent soft vibrations through my chest. “How about a cock cage?”

I arched a brow. “Are you into those?”

“Nah, I don’t think I’d try it on myself. I like playing with my dick too much.”

“Ok good because I like playing with your dick, too.”

His fingers idly trailed over my thigh, barely grazing, teasing. My body responded immediately, heat curling low in my stomach.

Fuck, he knew exactly what he was doing.

“What’s the kinkiest thing you’ve ever done?” Eli asked.

“I think the masked parties. Then probably getting jerked off in the middle of a crowded theatre.” My blood started to simmer. “You?”

“I’m surprisingly pretty vanilla. I did try puppy play once. That was fun.”

“Were you the pup?”

“One night yes, one night no. It was… interesting. And hot.”

“I bet,” I said, already getting hard. I turned slightly, my nose brushing against his temple, breathing him in. “Anything you do is hot.”

Elijah smirked, eyes flicking up to mine. “Oh really?”

His fingers slid higher, dragging over my inner thigh, inching toward my already half-hard cock.

I exhaled sharply, shifting my hips, spreading my legs just enough to encourage him. “Careful, Eli.”

“Or what?” His smirk deepened, his voice a low, teasing hum. “You’ll punish me, Detective?”

A growl rumbled in my throat. “You really wanna find out?”

His hand pressed between my legs, palming my growing bulge. “Yeah,” he whispered. “I really do.”

I grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him in, crushing our mouths together. He tasted like heaven. The kiss was sweet and needed relief after the chaos of tonight. He moaned into the kiss, his fingers tightening over my cock, rubbing slow, firm circles over my jeans.

Fuck, I needed him. Needed to have him against me, feel his naked body on mine.

I pushed him back against the couch, my mouth trailing down his throat, nipping at the sensitive skin. His breath hitched, his hips thrusting up into me. He was already as hard as I was.

“You like that?” I murmured against his jaw.

He nodded, eyes filled with lust. “Yeah.”

I grinned, slipping my hand under his shirt, my fingers trailing up his stomach. “Good. ’Cause I’m just getting started.”

I dipped my head, about to mouth over his nipple?—

His phone vibrated against the coffee table.

Elijah groaned. “Fuck, ignore it.”

But the screen lit up again. Another buzz. Then another.

Three rapid messages.

I frowned. Not normal.

Elijah sighed, reaching for the phone. “Better not be Zack asking me if I’m still alive.”

I leaned back, still hovering over him as he swiped open the message. The second his eyes skimmed the screen, his entire body went rigid. A sharp chill prickled down my spine.

“What?” I asked. “What is it?”

Elijah swallowed hard, voice barely above a whisper. “It’s from an unknown number.”

I sat up straighter. “What does it say?”

Elijah hesitated, his grip tightening around the phone. Then, slowly, he turned the screen toward me.

UNKNOWN: Did you enjoy the show? I thought the ending was explosive.