Page 93 of Born Daddy

Jace rolled his eyes again. “As if. But I was willing to play along. I’d heard he was cash flush, so I told him if he’d be my sugar Daddy, he could have me all to himself.” Jace snort-chuckled, sucking deep on his cigarette before stubbing it out. “What an idiot. He thought I meant Daddy/boy, so changed up his whole routine once I moved in. It was so fucking weird. He had zero clue about being a Daddy, but managed to reinvent his entire personality in a flash. And I didn’t want some old goofball fawning all over me, so everything fell apart not long after.”

Jace locked eyes with Tate. “Look, I don’t know why he kept up that Daddy charade with you, but here’s the deal. He wanted a good boy, one who did every fucking thing he said, when he said it and without question. He also wasn’t into all that contract shit—on that one thing we could agree—and none of the subs at that place were ever gonna give him what he wanted. Me especially.”

Jace lifted an eyebrow and gave another small shrug. “That bank is where he paid me my allowance. Ten grand a week. Every week. I wanted it untraceable and tax free, hence the safe deposit box.” He let out a wistful sigh. “It was hard walking away from that, but I couldn’t stand the fucker for one more second.” Jace shook his head. “He begged and begged and begged for me to come back. It was so pathetic, so unlike the cocky, confident asshole I’d met.”

Tate couldn’t imagine that in a million years. Cam had always given off the impression that it was no skin off his back if you were to disappear in an instant. He’d treated Tate that way, and even the few friends Cam had invited over on occasion. Something about Jace must’ve triggered a hidden need inside Cam, an obsession that had taken hold and…

Made him weak.

Tate swallowed hard, the heat of the day suddenly becoming oppressive, his gut roiling as he fought the rising nausea.

“He must’ve hated you.” Tate’s limbs seemed to turn to jelly.

“Y-yeah.” Jace’s voice cracked. “That’s why he kept killing me over and over.”

“Oh, God.” Tate wrapped his arms around his body as if he could keep himself from coming unraveled. “It was never about me. I was never in danger because we never did any of those things you’re talking about.” He glanced up at Jace who now had tears trailing down his cheeks, dragging the badly applied dark make-up with them until they fell from his hairless chin. “Cam chose me because I was the opposite of you. He could have a sub do his bidding without question, but would never have to be with me the way he’d been with you. He could keep you separate, never have to mix the two worlds.”

Jace swiped at his cheeks, smearing the makeup more. “Be thankful, man. Really fucking grateful.” He inhaled a shuddering breath. “I don’t know why he never just killed me. I never understood that.”

All the puzzle pieces fell into place, simultaneously horrifying him while offering him a strange peace.

“Because you were the one thing he cared about. I know… I believe with all my heart that he never cared about anyone, not the way most people do. But for whatever reason, you changed all that. Maybe he thought if he killed you, then whatever glimmer of humanity still existed in him would be extinguished forever.”

Jace tipped back his chin as if to keep more tears from falling. “Total mind fuck. For the past couple years, it’s been a complete mind fuck.”

Tate inclined his head. “What do you mean, years?”

Jace regarded Tate with red rimmed eyes. “I had a feeling that whole time. Whenever I’d see a report of a new victim, a chill would run down my spine.” His face crumpled. “But I couldn’t allow myself to believe it could be him, that Cam was the one behind those killings, that he was torturing these innocent men because of me.”

“Y-you…” Tate’s mouth had gone dry. “You suspected the whole time?”

“I did. And I never did anything, never voiced my suspicions. Even when a couple of my friends joked around that those poor fuckers looked like me and it was probably Cam, I never owned up.” Tate flinched as Jace grabbed his arm. “Don’t you see? I was fucking terrified, out of my mind with fear. Then when it came out that Cam actually was the Kink Killer? I lost my shit, man. Lost my fucking shit.”

Jace let him go then went back to digging through his bag again. All Tate could do was stare straight ahead at nothing, his head fuzzy as if he were drunk or not quite there, as if he’d traveled to an alternate universe. Another thought pierced through the clouds in his mind.

“The diary. I have to know what’s in that diary.”

Jace grunted as he lit yet another cigarette. “Who gives a fuck? It doesn’t change anything.”

Tate shook his head, banishing Jace’s angry words. “No. It’s important.” This time Tate was the one who grabbed Jace. “Don’t you see? It’s the final question that needs to be answered before the detectives will leave me alone. You have to help me. If they know who you are, they’ll understand why Cam did what he did.”

“How the hell does that help you? Maybe they’ll decide you were jealous of his old boyfriend and more than happy to help him carry out his revenge.”

“Not if we go in together. United. I have to know what he said in that diary. Please.”

Jace edged away from Tate, pressing himself against the iron bench arm. “No. No way. They’ll arrest me.”

“For what? Wondering if an old boyfriend you barely dated might be a killer? How could you know? Especially since those guys had white hair, and your hair is black.”

Tate fought the memories of the slain men from the grisly photos he’d been shown. Not all of the men’s hair had been a platinum blond. Some had been soaked in so much blood, the hair color had been impossible to discern.

Jace covered his face with one hand, then let it drop. “Jesus. You’ve never heard of box dye before?”

Tate swallowed hard. “Oh.”

He picked at his jeans, wondering what else he could say to convince Jace to go with him to the cops. Either way, though, Tate was telling them all about Jace. He still held some sympathy for Jace, but he wouldn’t let this meeting go by unacknowledged.

“Jace?” He wouldn’t meet Tate’s eyes. “Do you honestly want to keep running forever? To be looking over your shoulder, worrying that someday all this will catch up to you?” He laid a gentle hand on Jace’s shoulder. “Go with me to meet the detectives. To think I believed I was in danger from him, imagining scenarios in my head where he ended up killing me in the same horrible way he did his other victims. When in truth, he actually never gave a shit about hurting me.” Tate snort-chuckled. “Man. This whole time. For once I’m thrilled he never cared about me.”

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