Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 85682 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85682 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
“Can we play that game I like?” Sam asked, nuzzling my neck, licking and sucking on the skin there.
“You’re so dirty,” I teased. “You like pretending to be my rent boy? Enjoy acting like you’re coming to my house to fuck me for cash all weekend?” He wasn’t doing his videos online anymore, but he enjoyed being creative with sex. I wasn’t complaining.
“Yeah, except it’s not only for the weekend anymore.” Sam slowly began to unbutton my shirt, lips pressing to each patch of skin he revealed.
“No, it’s not. You’re stuck with me forever now.” I grabbed his ass, pulled him close…groaned when my cell started ringing.
“Ignore it.” Sam palmed my erection through my jeans. “I just got here. You always fuck me first thing.”
“You forgot something.”
“Why does Waldo wear a striped shirt?” he asked.
“Why?”
“Because he doesn’t want to be spotted.”
The phone stopped ringing but then immediately started again. “Damn it.”
“Better get it. Somethin’ might be wrong,” Sam said.
He followed me into the bedroom, where I plucked my cell off the nightstand. It was Charles, of course. It typically was, though once in a while Molly or Carrie would try me if Sam didn’t answer.
“Hel—”
“Get on the internet,” Charles interrupted.
“What?”
“Get on the internet and check your email right now!” he rushed out, his voice anxious.
“Jesus, I’m doing it. What’s going on?”
I put the phone on speaker and grabbed my laptop from the dresser. I felt Sam close, knew he was watching and wondering what was going on too. I set it on the bed, the two of us on the mattress while I clicked on the message from Charles. There was a link to a news article. The second the headline appeared on the screen, dizziness twisted me up. If I weren’t sitting down, I was sure I’d have passed out.
“Is that… Holy fuck,” Sam cursed.
Man Charged with the Murder of Daniel May
Gary Pruitt, a barista from Manhattan, was arrested for the murder of a local man found in an alley behind Pruitt’s building. Police believe Pruitt didn’t plan on the crime taking place there, but the victim likely realized something was wrong, and Pruitt reacted, striking the man. Citizens saw him leaving the body, apprehended him, and turned him in to the authorities. In a strange turn of events, Pruitt’s prints matched those found at the scene of the unsolved murder of Daniel May, a local businessman who was killed four years ago. The police haven’t confirmed this yet, but someone close to the investigation said there were photos of Mr. Pruitt’s crimes hidden in the wall of his apartment. Police believe Daniel May might have been Pruitt’s first victim, and that Pruitt might be responsible for other unsolved murders of gay men in the city. Mr. May’s partner, Bentley Fox, had originally been arrested, tried for the murder, and then acquitted.
I could hear Charles talking to me through the phone, Sam doing the same from behind me, but I couldn’t make out their words. My heart beat too hard, blood rushed too swiftly through my ears. The world was echoey, muted.
Sam’s arms around me.
They caught him.
Sam’s lips on mine.
They caught him.
Charles calling my name.
“They caught him,” I finally said.
“He worked at Daniel’s favorite coffee place. He used to go there all the time! It was right around the corner from your house!” Charles said.
The world righted itself again.
I said, “If Daniel saw him, he would have invited him in. Hell, I could see him going in for a coffee, pissed at me, and inviting Pruitt over so he could ramble and complain. That’s just the kind of guy he was.” It could have happened any number of ways. Maybe Pruitt had come over earlier, then came back. Who knew. They caught him. “I fucking knew him! I bought coffee from him and—”
“And it’s over,” Sam said.
“It’s over,” I repeated. “Thank you, Charles.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“You were my friend. When no one else believed me, you were my friend.”
“Eh, I kinda like you. Go, be with Sam. I’ll talk to you later.”
Charles ended the call, and I stared at the computer screen again, saw the familiar face. Read the article over and over again.
“You okay, Em?”
“I’m okay, and I’m so fucking in love with you.” I closed the laptop, just like that part of my life was closed, and I turned to Sam, my future, and kissed him.
Six months later
After Oregon, we’d gone to Montana, then down to Las Vegas and Arizona before we headed up to Colorado. We did a lot of exploring, going to places like Silverton and Mesa Verde, but we were now staying in Durango and had been here almost two months.
Gary Pruitt was convicted of Daniel’s murder. There had been three others between Daniel and his last victim. After his arrest, Pruitt had confessed. Daniel had befriended him, even having Pruitt at our home in the past. One of those times, he’d stolen a key and made a copy. That night, Daniel had been upset and had gone for a walk. He ran into Pruitt. They got to talking, and Daniel invited him over.