Page 8 of Desire

Chapter 6

Fuck.What was I thinking the other night? I completely fucked things up, and I don’t know how to fix them. I don’t know what the hell I thought was going to happen when I took Bridget into that room. I stayed away from her at the club for a reason. Her flirtation shocked the shit out of me. But once she batted those fucking eyes at me, I was a goner. I was always the one in control. Until her. Then my control went straight out the window. All I know now was I never should have touched her. Because one touch will never be enough.

I was sure she couldn’t handle the things I wanted to do to her. Although if I were honest with myself, I was the one who couldn’t handle it. I kept my desires buried deep. I was afraid I would lose control once I unleashed the beast inside me. And then, I’d be just like him. But after the way she’d left, my chances of touching her again were nil, so it was a moot point.

It had been a day and a half since our night at Eden, and I spent the entire time replaying everything in my mind. I remembered the sounds of Bridget coming apart under my hand and how sweet she tasted. Like the ripest strawberries dipped in cream. I had jacked off more times in the last two days than I had in the last month. All because of the best sex I’d never had.

Even though she told me to back off and that she no longer needed or wanted my help, I had no intention of letting this case go. Someone was threatening Alex, even if he wouldn’t admit it, and I needed to stop it. I had no other choice.

It was 6:00 a.m. on Monday, and I’d be damned if I was going to wait another day before speaking to Alex again. I quickly showered and dressed before heading to my car. I drove the forty minutes to Malcolm Shipman’s side of town and parked within sight of the school bus stop.

At approximately 7:10, I saw Alex, head down and shuffling along, making his way along the sidewalk. Even though I had lost long since faith in any higher power, I said a little prayer under my breath that Malcolm had kept to his daily routine and was already at the gym. I exited my car and jogged over to start walking next to Alex. He startled in surprise when I matched him stride for stride, but didn’t say a word.

“Have you given any more thought to my visit the other day?” I questioned him as we stood slightly away from the other kids loitering at the stop.

“I told you already, I made a mistake calling her,” Alex ground out.

“Yeah, I know what you told me. Let’s just say I don’t quite believe you, kid. Who are you protecting?” I crossed my arms and stared intently at him. It felt wrong to try and intimidate him into giving up his secrets, but there wasn’t a chance in hell I was going to walk away without some information.

About the same time I finished my question, the congregated kids all started shuffling to the curb as if sensing the impending arrival of the bus. Alex moved from his position to get in line. As he attempted to step past me, I reached out to stop him with a hand on his arm. He inhaled sharply with a pained hiss and winced, pulling away from my touch. What the hell?

“Stop right there, kid. What’s wrong with your arm?”

“Nothing,” he replied, too quickly.

“Alex.” I drew out his name in slight warning.

“It’s noth—nothing,” he stuttered.

“God damn it, Alex, show me,” I hissed, causing Alex to jump back in fear and the other kids to turn sharply to see what was going on.

I closed my eyes, inhaling deeply and blowing out my breath in a huff, trying to gather my patience. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you. I’m not going to hurt you. Now, will you please show me your arm?”

Hesitantly, he raised his shirtsleeve past his elbow, and I caught a glimpse of the large purple bruise in the shape of a thumb around his bicep. I gently reached out so as to not startle him again, and I pushed the sleeve out of the way to see the bruises wrap around the rest of his arm, each one in the shape of a finger. Fury clouded my vision and immediately my brain flashed back to another place and time. To another frightened boy with similar bruises. Alex must have sensed the rage coursing through my veins, because he pulled out of my grasp and pushed his sleeve down to cover the marks, as if that would make them magically disappear.

“It was an accident,” he explained.

“Bullshit,” I scoffed. “You don’t ‘accidentally’ get that kind of bruising, Alex. Who touched you?”

“My uncle.” He rushed to continue, “But it wasn’t on purpose. He was grilling out, and I was playing around near the grill even after he told me to stop, and I tripped. I would have fallen into it if he hadn’t grabbed me. So, you see, it was an accident.”

My gaze bore into his, trying to read the truth in his words. It sounded like a reasonable excuse, but in my line of work I was trained to filter lies from the truth. And everything coming out of his mouth sounded like a load of shit. I didn’t understand why he was trying to protect his uncle. Lies are often told to protect oneself, came a voice in the back of my head. Didn’t I know it. Some of the most destructive lies are the ones we tell ourselves. How often had I made excuses for what was happening to me?

I had to give him credit. He maintained direct eye contact with me for longer than I expected. But before long, he dropped his gaze and shuffled nervously as though he knew I saw right through him. Sadly, there was nothing I could do. I had an unfounded supposition that, without proof, didn’t mean a damn thing. I needed to put a call into an acquaintance of mine on the police force.

As I was about to question Alex further, even knowing nothing more would come of the conversation, the school bus rolled to stop in front of the crowd. Alex continued his attempt to pass me and join the group beginning to board the waiting bus, and this time, I didn’t stop him. He paused briefly and turned his head to peer back at me.

“Look, I appreciate your concern, but there is nothing you can do. Just let it go. Everything is fine. I’m sorry I dragged her into this. Please, just leave me alone.” The sadness, and underlying fear I recognized all too well, tore at my gut as all I could do was watch him disappear into the bowels of the bus. I remained standing there, staring after the bus as it rolled away from the curb, taking a scared boy with it. Fuck.

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