Double Indemnity (30 page)

He was one lucky bastard.

 

 

T
HE
SPRING
thaw came later than usual to Stonebridge. March had been a cold and snowy month, but the first week of April warmed the air enough to make any future accumulation unlikely. In spite of the mud and rain, Sam didn't mind this time of year. Work started picking up again, and it was nice to be outside without freezing his ass off.

But this year, he had another reason to anticipate spring.

Sam had heard from Nathan in late February, just a brief e-mail to say that the case was taking much longer than he'd anticipated, and he didn't expect to be back for another month or two.

He'd also said he missed Sam.

Sam e-mailed him back—saying the same and asking about Shady Brook. Nathan hadn't responded. He didn't know what that meant, but figured Nathan wanted to play coy about it. Not mysterious, Sam's ass.

A new family finally bought the Walker house. When they moved in, they asked Manella's if they'd continue landscaping. Sam had to tell them no. It was too strange—too many memories, good and bad. He thanked them and gave them one of their competitors' numbers. He hoped the new family would have better luck in the house than Nathan and Emma had.

On a Sunday morning in late April, Sam rolled out of bed and hit the shower. Then he booted up his computer and sat down at his desk. As a witness for the prosecution, Sam had been advised not to talk about the trial until the verdict came in, and he hadn't. For months, he'd been posting once a week on the social and political issues that always interested him.
Under the Bridge
's follower count had increased slowly but steadily, as had the responses to his posts, and he had tried to make a point to reply to his readers individually. He'd even gained some new fans. One in particular, Sidney, had written thoughtful responses to every one of Sam's posts. Yuri never failed to tease him about his new Internet friends whenever he got the chance.

The verdict had condemned Sheldon and Hoff to life, and Sam felt he should write something about his own experience of the trial. Other accomplices, including McCormick, had received lesser sentences. Big forthcoming changes in the police department—including a new chief—meant things were looking up for Stonebridge, but that didn't mean the wounds would heal overnight. Though the trial had taken down one of the members of the Voronkov family, the mob would find another way to get drugs into the city, and people in positions of power would continue to be vulnerable to extortion and greed.

The blank page stared back at him. He always found it hard to begin a post, but this would be the most difficult entry of all. It seemed almost impossible to sum up all that had happened in the past year. It occurred to Sam he shouldn't even try. Maybe people weren't looking for all the answers tied up in a neat little bow, as the
Gazette
had tried to do with its headline announcing the “End of Corruption.” Of course, he didn't want to go the opposite route either and forecast nothing but doom and gloom for the city that he loved, despite everything.

He sighed, ran his hand through his hair, and scrolled back through some of the conversations he'd had with Sidney.

S Flynn: So, do you think they got everyone involved? Or is there still some rottenness at the core of the Stonebridge PD?

Sidney: You can never be sure. I think what you're trying to do is important, and I hope it rubs off on your readers. Apathy is what got us here in the first place.

S Flynn: I couldn't agree more.

Sidney: I'm glad we agree. :)

Sam smiled. Rereading the exchange made him wonder if Sidney was flirting with him. The emoticon seemed to suggest it. He immediately felt guilty for the thought, but every passing day made his brief time with Nathan seem more and more like a dream. Since Nathan had left town, Sam had gotten reacquainted with the toys in his drawer. He needed some real sex, and soon.

Was he actually waiting for the guy?

He wondered if Nathan had moved on and was too afraid to tell him. After all, they'd agreed no strings. No guarantees.

He closed his browser window.

 

 

S
AM
STARED
at the wall of liquor and beer in front of him. His mouth watered and his fingers itched. It wouldn't be so bad, would it, to buy one bottle? He could ration the contents and have only one drink a day.

His heart started to pound. Just one.

A nice bottle of Jack Daniel's would do the trick. As Sam reached to grab it, his phone buzzed in his back pocket. Hand shaking, he fished it out and brought it to his ear, turning away from the booze.

“Sam?”

Nathan's voice shot through Sam's body like an arrow. Trembling from surprise, he started to make his way toward the door, empty-handed.

“Nathan?”

“Hi, yeah. It's me. I got back into town yesterday.”

“I'm glad you called. You stopped me from doing something stupid.”

“What's wrong?” The immediate concern in Nathan's voice made Sam's eyes burn. He rubbed them with his fist and let the cool spring evening turn his steps toward home.

“Nothing. And everything. I… it's good to hear your voice.” He didn't even care if the confession made him vulnerable. He needed Nathan to know.

“It's good to hear yours. How have you been?”

“I've been pretty okay. You said you're back, but where?”

“I'm at my new place. Fifty-five Lexington.”

The news brought Sam up short. The location was only about a half mile from Sam's apartment, in a slightly nicer neighborhood. “Oh, cool.”

“I thought you might like to come over and see it, if you weren't busy. So we can catch up. You know, whenever you're free.”

“I'm free right now.”

Sam hung up the phone and cut through the park in front of the Anglican church, lengthening his stride. He passed a couple of mothers playing with their kids on the swings, and a dog sniffing at an overturned trashcan. In the distance, a police siren squealed its alarm, and the air filled with the smell of spring-blossoming trees. Sam kicked an empty soda can out of his path and resisted the urge to yell like a crazy person. The blood pounded through his veins. He imagined this was what it would feel like to awaken after months of sleep.

Somehow Sam had expected Nathan to choose a fancy place, but this block wasn't much different from his own, save the smoothly paved road and newer sidewalk. The old turn-of-the-century brick façade of number fifty-five needed refurbishment, but the inside lobby looked spacious and clean. Sam pressed the button next to Nathan's name and unlatched the buzzing door. His palms were sweaty by the time he made it to the fifth floor, though Nathan's building, unlike his, had a working elevator.

Nathan was standing in the hallway when the doors opened. A hesitant, almost shy smile spread across his face when he saw Sam. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Sam let his eyes linger over the tight tee that showed off muscles he remembered clenching under his fingers as they fucked. Nathan's hair was shorter than Sam remembered, and a bit of scruff on his square jaw completed the picture to make one fine specimen.

They stood awkwardly in the hallway for another second before Nathan strode forward and kissed Sam, his mouth hungry and searching. Sam wrapped his arms around Nathan and held on, kissing back with the force of months of sexual frustration. His dick didn't care about talking or sorting out emotions, not at all.

“God, look at you,” Nathan said when they pulled apart. “You look amazing.” He ran his hands up and down Sam's arms.

“I've been doing some weights with Yuri.” Sam flushed. He hadn't been scrawny before, but he'd put on more muscle. Not partying every night definitely helped.

Nathan squeezed his shoulders. “So, this is what I've been missing all these months.”

“How was the case?”

“Tiring. But good. It went well, actually.”

“You probably can't tell me anything about it.” Sam had spent a lot of time tossing and turning at night, but he wasn't sure he wanted to know the details after all.

Nathan must have heard the reticence in his voice. “I can. But I'd rather look at you.”

“Maybe inside?” Sam was waiting for one of Nathan's neighbors to catch them in the hallway.

Nathan nodded. His apartment was medium sized for the area, and Sam noticed a few fixtures from the old house. Most of the furniture was new and smaller, to accommodate the tighter space. But it did retain a certain “Nathan” aesthetic—dark and masculine, tasteful. He smiled when he noticed Nathan had kept the large flat screen after all. In deference to him? Nathan watched him with a thoughtful expression on his face. “You like it?”

“It's great.” Sam shrugged out of his denim jacket.

“Can I get you something? A drink?”

Again that wanting, hollow feeling. Sam closed his eyes and shook his head. “No. I'm actually on the wagon. That's where I was when you called. At the liquor store.” When Nathan saw how damaged Sam still was, he wouldn't want to rekindle anything. But he had to know the truth.

But instead of the uncomfortable silence Sam expected, Nathan pulled him into a tight hug. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Yeah, but not right now. I'd rather look at you,” Sam answered, echoing Nathan's words. He stepped back and got an impressive eyeful. A hint of black poked out from the sleeve of Nathan's tee. Sam pulled at it to unveil a tattooed string of ragged orchids. They twisted in deformed pain up Nathan's shoulder, until the last and most fragile burst from the chaos, delicate and perfect. “This is new.”

“Yeah, I got it a couple of months ago. What do you think?”

Sam swallowed and traced his finger over the black lines that decorated Nathan's warm skin. “I think it says a lot.”

“I needed to do something. It's still hard.”

“I know.” And Sam did. Probably more than anyone. “Did you pay Tim's bill?”

“If I admit it, will you let it be?”

“I promise I'll pay you back if it's the last thing I do.”

Nathan frowned. “That's absolutely out of the question. You can leave right now if you want to, never see me again, and the order still stands.”

“But—”

“I didn't do it for you, Sam. I did it for your brother.”

How could Sam argue with that? He nodded and curled his fingers around the back of Nathan's neck, urging his head down. The kiss lingered and built heat until both of them wanted more and their erections strained through layers of denim.

“So this is happening, then?” Sam asked as Nathan pulled up his shirt and bent down, pressing kisses against his abdomen, sucking his nipple into a peak.

“This is happening.” More kisses, more items of clothing shed. Somehow they managed to make it into the bedroom and onto the bed without taking their hands off each other. Every touch fanned the flames.

“Aren't you going to ask me about what's been going on around here?” Sam asked through a gasp.

“I've been keeping up. Let's say I have a very knowledgeable source.” Nathan knelt between his legs, eyes appreciatively scanning Sam's erection. He looked like he might want to…. Oh God, yes. Sam's back arched off the bed as Nathan took him into his mouth.

The thought hit Sam through the haze of his lust. He almost laughed at himself for not realizing it before.

“Wait a minute.” He ran his fingers through Nathan's short hair. “
Sidney
? What the—”

A grin, and then Nathan resumed his task, slurping up Sam's shaft and licking around the head. All of these months, Sam had thought Nathan was incommunicado, but they'd been talking to each other almost every day. And Sidney really was a hot dude. Huh.

“Not mysterious—ah—my ass.”

Nathan held Sam's cock at the base and kissed the slit. Sam thought he might explode, and it hadn't even been more than a minute. He'd fallen out of practice, and he both did and didn't want to know if the same was true for Nathan.

Then again Nathan was here with him. Did any of that matter?

“So, you
are
Sidney, right?”

Nathan smiled, giving the impression of a large, predatory cat. “Guilty as charged.”

“But why
Sidney
?”

“It's my middle name. Horrible, isn't it?” Nathan tapped Sam's erection against his lips.

“You prick. Why didn't you tell me?”

“Because it was my idea to put some space between us, and I guess I found it harder than I expected.” His expression grew serious. He slid up from his kneeling position to lie next to Sam. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” So much. But Sam couldn't say those words, not yet. “You must not have been too lonely, though. Working.” He winced at his obviousness.

Nathan didn't miss a beat. He touched Sam's face. “It was a sweatshop case. I'm sorry. I should have told you. You must have been—”

Relief made Sam lightheaded. He laughed and cut Nathan off with a kiss. “It's just, before you left, you said no strings.”

“I didn't want you to feel an obligation to me. But let me assure you, the only thing I've been fucking the last few months is my hand, thinking of you.”

Unable to hold back his grin at those words, Sam kissed Nathan again, this time with tongue. When they finally broke apart, both of them panting, Nathan rolled them over so he was on top. “So, it looks like maybe we both want to start something. See where it goes?”

“If you can deal with a grumpy, stubborn orphan who likes to drink too much, sure.”

“As long as you can deal with a so-called ‘mysterious' widower who wants to do unspeakable things to you.”