Zero at the Bone (58 page)

“Whut?”

“How the hell you learned to fuck like that when I’m the only man you’ve ever slept with.”

D chuckled. “Must be a natural.” He sighed and propped up on one elbow to look down at Jack. “Or could be I jus’ got a real good inspiration,” he said, running his hand across Jack’s chest.

Jack arched an eyebrow. “You don’t have to use smooth lines on me, you know.

You got me already.”

D smiled, a slow smile like spreading sweet syrup. “Yeah, I do.” For a few dopey moments, Jack could only smile back. The rumbling of his stomach jerked him back to the present. “Food. Need food.”

“I ain’t leavin’ this room.”

“Room service?”

“Now yer talkin’.”

JACK woke up with a start, swallowing a gasp. He stared into the dim room, the sunrise just touching the window with pale gray light, listening to his heart pound. He turned his head and saw D sleeping, turned on his side facing away. There had been a time when the 270 | Jane Seville

slightest movement or noise would have woken him instantly, but he’d relaxed a lot in the two months since his return.

Jack let out a breath, rubbing one hand across his face. It’d been a few weeks since he’d had the nightmare, the one he’d started having not long after D’s return. Nightmares in which D went on killing rampages, shooting, stabbing, chasing. Shadowy figures fell under his hail of bullets. In his dreams, Jack shouted for him to stop, but D didn’t listen.

You didn’t have to be Freud to figure out what it meant. D might think he was sparing Jack the details, but the not-knowing was much worse. His imagination conjured scenarios that probably far outstripped the reality.

At first, Jack hadn’t argued too much with D’s refusal to tell him what he’d done to secure Jack’s safety. “It’s done, you’re safe, that’s all that matters,” D kept saying. Jack found this somewhat insulting, actually. Did D think he was too sensitive to handle it?

Did he think Jack couldn’t be trusted with it?

No. It wasn’t either of those things. It had to be that D had done something—

possibly several somethings—he didn’t think Jack would approve of. He swore he hadn’t killed anyone, and Jack was pretty sure he believed him, but that still left a lot of unsavory space to fill in the realm of things Jack might not approve of.

He’d been surprised, and irritated, at D’s initial refusal, but in the euphoria of having him back and just not wanting to spoil it, he’d let it go. He’d brought the subject up again about a week later, and gotten the same song-and-dance. He’d let it go again. He knew D, and he thought if he didn’t press the matter, D would come around to telling him the whole truth on his own, but the more he pressed the issue, the more persistent D’s resistance became.

I’ve got to let him start feeling secure in this relationship. He probably thinks that
whatever it is will drive me away, and if he tells me, he’ll lose me. When he starts
believing that I won’t leave him, no matter what, he’ll tell me.

That little voice that insisted on asking what Jack would do if D had done something so awful that Jack actually
couldn’t
stay with him because of it was under a gag order most of the time, so it had taken to expressing its doubts via Jack’s nightmares.

He laid there, unable to sleep, until D stirred at six a.m. on the nose. He rolled over, stretching, and tossed an arm across Jack’s chest, grumbling sleepy nothings. Jack sighed, letting his arm fall around D’s shoulders.

D turned his head into Jack’s chest and began kissing the bed-warm skin His hand was laying sleepy strokes down Jack’s side, growing bolder as he woke up. Jack laid his hand on D’s head, his fingers tangling in the sandy curls. D loved morning sex. It was his favorite time to “get mushy,” as he called it. The drowsiness seemed to strip him of his residual macho-man inhibitions and let him do things like kiss his way down the center of Jack’s chest, as he was doing at the moment. Jack sighed and let his eyes fall closed, grateful just to be ministered to right now.

D slid further and further down in the bed, pushing the covers back with him until they were both bare-ass exposed in the dim morning light. He settled between Jack’s legs and lifted them up by the knees, hooking them over his shoulders and wrapping his arms around Jack’s thighs, trapping Jack in place as he lowered his head and sucked him deep.

Jack hissed, his hips wanting to thrust but unable to do so because D had him pinned.

“Oh Jesus…,” he breathed, clutching the sides of his pillow, yanking up on it until it threatened to swallow his face.

“Careful there,” D said, lifting his head. “Don’t wanna suffocate yerself.” Zero at the Bone | 271

Jack wrapped his arms around his pillow-encased head, growling in frustration.

“Don’t stop,” he groaned.

D murmured something Jack didn’t quite hear and was back at it, with a vengeance.

Jack’s eyes rolled back in his head and he wondered if he had any blood left in his skull.

He came with a surprised grunt, spilling into D’s mouth, his torso rising off the bed with the force of it. D rose up over him, smirking and wiping his mouth. “Was that my wake-up call?” Jack said, weakly.

“Predictable joke, doc,” D said, starting to lower himself onto Jack.

“Nope,” Jack said, stopping him. “Your turn,” he said, motioning for D to keep crawling until he was kneeling over Jack’s face. He stroked him a few times, then reached around and gripped D’s ass, bringing him down to his mouth. He heard D groan above him, his hands braced on the wall, and relaxed as best he could as D began taking short strokes into his mouth. He knew it wouldn’t take long and it didn’t; D never had much staying power in the morning. Within a minute he was blasting his orgasm into Jack’s throat and sagging in a heap at his side.

“Christ,” he gasped, pulling Jack tight to his side. “You gotta be the king a fuckin’

blow jobs.” He paused. “Not that I got much basis for comparison.”

“So how do you know I don’t give sucky blow jobs?” Jack said. D made a face.

“Uh, no pun intended.”

“Ain’t possible.”

“Why not?”

“’Cause if they get any better’n that, nobody’d live through ’em.” Jack laughed. “And you say you’re no good at sweet talk.” They just lay there for a few minutes, not speaking, lying in a tangled heap of naked limbs. D’s hand left slow strokes up and down Jack’s upper arm while Jack’s finger traced meaningless patterns on the taut skin of D’s flank.

I need to know what he did.

D stirred, stretching like a cat. “Well, c’mon, Jack. Wanna get on the road by eight we best get our asses in gear, huh?”

AFTER showering and dressing, Jack and D headed down to the hotel restaurant for breakfast. Jack was quiet, working out in his mind how to reintroduce the subject. He couldn’t believe he’d let it go this long. To be fair to himself, the two months since D’s return had been something of a whirlwind, and D had been gone for part of it. He’d had to take two separate weeklong trips away from Portland to wrap up the loose threads of his old life, collect some things from storage, dispose of some stockpiles he’d left around the country, close up some financial accounts and undergo some debriefings with the Bureau. Jack had been studying a lot, reading the back issues of his medical journals that he’d let slide, and prevailing upon the surgeons at the local hospital to let him observe some surgeries. You didn’t just step right back into the delicate procedures that were his specialty after more than a year away without some preparation.

All this on top of the many logistical preparations to be made for the trip to Baltimore followed by the move to Columbus had taken up a lot of time, and suddenly two months had gone by and they were leaving, and not another peep had been uttered by either of them about what had happened during their long separation.

272 | Jane Seville

D was looking at him as they stepped off the elevator and handed their overnight bags to the porter. “What’s wrong?”

Jack shrugged. “Nothing.”

“Ya got that look.”

“What look?”

“Somethin’s on yer mind.”

“Nothing’s on my mind.”

D sighed. “Have it yer way.”

They walked silently to the restaurant, were seated and poured coffee, and sat there waiting to place their orders. “All right, there’s something on my mind,” Jack said.

“Told ya there was.”

“Yes, you were right. Bully for you.”

“What is it?”

Jack sighed, holding D’s gaze across the table. “You’re really never going to tell me? Not ever?”

D had to have been thinking on this subject too, or else he suspected what was troubling Jack, because he didn’t need to ask for clarification. “We been over this, Jack.”

“So we’ll go over it again.”

“I told you. I took care a things. You don’t gotta worry about it no more.”

“How? How did you take care of things?” Jack asked, leaning forward.

“I took care a things,” D repeated, his jaw starting to tighten.

“Do you not get that what I’m imagining is probably way worse than anything you did?”

“I told ya I didn’t kill anybody.”

“I believe you. But there’s plenty that could have happened without you killing anyone.”

D fixed him with a hard stare. “Don’tcha trust me, Jack?” Jack sat back. “Oh, no. No, you don’t. You do not get to make this my fault that I just don’t trust you enough. I trust you. But I can’t go on not knowing; I need you to tell me how you did this.”

“It don’t concern you,” D snapped, and seemed to immediately realize his mistake.

He shrank a bit in his chair and looked away, picking up his water glass.

Jack felt his whole face go stony. “It doesn’t concern me? No, wait… it
doesn’t
concern me?
”

D said nothing, just stared down into his water glass. Jack nodded, his hands clenched together on the tabletop. “Okay, I got it. Loud and clear. Things that were done for my benefit don’t concern me. Things you did that you are clearly conflicted about don’t concern me. My own damn partner’s fucking close-mouthed Cosa Nostra routine doesn’t concern me.” He stood up. “I’m not hungry. I’ll be in the car when you’re ready to go.”

He stalked out of the dining room, forcing himself not to look back to see if D was following him. Halfway across the lobby his arm was seized.

“Jack, come on.”

“Come on, what?”

“It’s….” He glanced around, then leaned closer. “Please. It’s jus’ better if ya don’t know. Ya gotta trust me.”

Jack shook his head. “This isn’t about me trusting you, Anson. You’ve told me things about yourself that you said you’d never told anyone else. Why is this different?

Zero at the Bone | 273

Now, when we ought to be sharing
more,
why can’t you share this? What is it you’re afraid of? Whatever it is you did to help me can’t possibly be worse than the things you’ve done that I’ve already forgiven you for. But this? Not telling me anything? This, I might have a hard time forgiving.” He shook off D’s arm and headed for the door. He could hear D coming along behind, but he didn’t speak again.

Their car was fetched for them. D loaded their bags into the trunk while Jack checked out, and within a few minutes they were on the road again.

Jack pulled into a gas station in Estes Park. Nobody said a word as he got out and started fueling up. D went into the food mart and came out with some bottled water and a bag of snacks for the road. He got back in the passenger’s side and waited.

Jack finished gassing up and got behind the wheel again. He just sat there, staring into space.

“I sent his men away,” D finally said.

Jack didn’t respond.

“I picked six. Some a the lieutenants. Important guys. Guys I knew might like ta get out a the business. I set ’em up with new identities for them and their families. Paid for

’em ta get outta the country and disappear.” He hesitated. “Before they went, they told me things. Where bodies were buried. Locations a secret stashes a drugs and shit. Signed affidavits and videotaped statements. Finally I went ta Dominguez and said look, I got a shitload a evidence against you in fourteen different safety deposit boxes all over the country, and unless you want all of it sent ta the FBI, you leave Jack Francisco alone.” It really was a beautiful day, Jack thought. Even sitting here at the gas pumps. The breeze off the mountains was cool and fresh. He tilted his head back and took a deep breath. “That’s it?”

D nodded. “Yeah, that’s it.”

Jack nodded. “You could put him away for the rest of his life. You could dig up those bodies, let their families bury them. You could smash his whole operation. Right?”

“Yeah.”

“And you’re trading all that for my life.”

“I’d trade a lot more’n that fer your life, Jack.” Jack turned and met D’s eyes.
He’d die for me. He’s all but said it. But I don’t need
that from him. I need him to
live
for me.
“Any crime he does from now on will be on our heads.”

D shook his head. “Them crimes, they’re gonna happen no matter what. If it weren’t him, it’d be somebody else. Man like him, it’s like them lizards can grow back a leg. Cut him off, somebody come up in his place. I cain’t stop what he’s doin’, or undo what he’s done. But I can save you, Jack. If I done nothin’ else of any good in this world, I will a saved you, and that’s enough fer me.”

Jack felt tears rise to his eyes. He couldn’t look away from D’s face, laid bare before him. “Anson…,” he began.

D frowned and looked over his shoulder. Jack cocked his head, hearing sirens approaching, a lot of sirens, and approaching
fast.
They both turned in their seats and looked back out to the street in time to see a blue pickup truck barrel around a curve of the four-lane state highway and toward the intersection. It was going ninety miles an hour at least. The truck smashed into a minivan, spinning it around, and careened through the intersection, turning over and flipping three times. “Jesus Christ!” Jack cried. They both jumped from the car and ran toward the crashes, plural.

274 | Jane Seville

Jack headed for the t-boned minivan. People were running to the scene from all sides, and the police cars that had been chasing the truck roared into view, stopping short and laying rubber on the road. A woman inside the minivan was screaming, but she didn’t appear hurt. Her husband, who’d been driving, was in bad shape. Jack pushed his way to the car. The driver’s side was smashed; he couldn’t get in. He ran around to the other side and opened the passenger door.