Hot Rod

HOT ROD G.A. Hauser

HOT ROD Copyright © G.A. Hauser, 2010 Edited by Stacey Rhodes Cover design by Stella Price ISBN Trade paperback: 978-1453-6258-52 The G.A. Hauser Collection

This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or business establishments, events or locales is coincidental. All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. WARNING This book contains material that maybe offensive to some: graphic language, homosexual relations, adult situations. Please store your books carefully where they cannot be accessed by underage readers. First G.A. Hauser publication: August 2010

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Chapter 1 Rod Reynolds felt the April breeze on his cheek as if it were the first time in his life he was outdoors. A metallic bang behind him didn’t even make him turn around. He knew that sound. A prison door closing. Only for once it was closing him out, not in. His army-green duffel bag in his hand, Rod walked to the street where he was told a bus stop was located. Prepared for the wait, something he’d done every day of the last ten years, Rod dropped his bag at his feet and inhaled deeply. Fresh air. He never knew how much he cherished freedom until he had lost it. Nearly twenty minutes later a shuttle bus arrived. Rod entered it, paying the driver. As he walked to his seat, several occupants spied him with worry. Picking up possible ex-cons at the exit gates of a prison obviously made people anxious. Who could blame them? Rod imagined most of the riders were visitors or employees. Not released prisoners. He kept moving to the last seat, tossed his bag on the floor at his feet and slumped down, staring out at The Bay as the bus resumed its trip. He thought the anger would have left him. He had so much time to think about it, if he let hatred consume him, he’d most likely kill someone. Someone else. Someone as deserving as the man whose life he took to get him a prison sentence. Or, even better, someone like the scum he had been locked up with. Rubbing his unshaven jaw, Rod felt like he was sixty, not thirty-six. He was exhausted. Sleeping with one eye open in a dormitory with crazed felons and gangs had taken its toll on his health, mentally and physically. Nearly dozing on the ride, Rod woke up when he realized they had stopped at a Greyhound Bus depot. He trailed behind the rest of the passengers to disembark. Though he lived in Los Angeles most of his life, Rod knew Northern California as well. He’d worked undercover all over the state. He walked to a hotel he had once previously staked out for drugs and criminal activity and stood at the front desk. “I’d like a room, please.”

The clerk spun a sign-in sheet around towards him. A pen was attached to it with a chain. “Fill this out.” Rod did, keeping the information he supplied as vague as he felt inside. He rotated the board back to the man and took out his credit card, handing it to him. The man reciprocated with a key. “Up to the third floor. Make a right. Second room on the left.” “Thanks.” Rod headed to the staircase, feeling the man’s eyes on his back. He used the card-key to get in the room, giving it a quick scan as if someone was going to leap out at him and kill him. Out of habit, Rod checked the bathroom and closet. They were empty. He knew old habits were hard to break. He’d been the same in prison, watching his back, keeping alert for anyone who wanted to attack him. He threw his bag near the closet, fell backwards on the bed, and closed his eyes.

Chapter 2 A loud noise woke him. Rod sat up and reached for his gun. But there was no gun. It took a moment to clear his head. The room was dim now that twilight had set in. The sensation of disorientation gripped him. He hadn’t eaten since breakfast before his release. A man and woman arguing down the hall echoed in his temples. A door slammed once more and the voices quieted. He staggered to the bathroom to splash his face. The change in light made him wince and hold the doorframe to steady himself. Once his eyes adjusted, Rod leaned on the sink and wrenched the knob on the cold water. Refreshing his skin, feeling his coarse stubble, Rod raised his eyes to his reflection. It didn’t even look like him anymore. Not the man he was before his incarceration. Hey, Hot-Rod. Git over here. That’s it, bitch. Jus’ like that. Rod shook his head to rid himself of the memory. He patted his face dry with a towel, meeting his brown eyes in the mirror. “You did what you did to survive.” He threw the white towel on the vanity counter and shut off the bathroom light, heading to the bedroom. He switched on a table lamp and picked up the phone, reading the instructions on how to get an outside line. It rang, once, twice… “Hello?” “Serena. It’s me.” “Rod. How are you?” “Out.” “Out? Out where? I knew your release date was coming up. I thought you’d have me pick you up.” “Fuck no. It was bad enough you had to come to that hellhole to visit me. I don’t want you anywhere near it now.” “Where are you?” “At a hotel near the Greyhound terminal.” “I told you, you can stay here. I’m coming to get you.” “Serena.” Rod leaned his elbows on the dresser because he felt lightheaded. “I can’t burden you.” “Burden me? You’re my brother and I love you. Where’s the hotel. You are not staying in some cockroach infested dive.”

Rod was anxiety-ridden that the bad luck that had fallen on him would rub off on his sister. He dreaded using her, intruding on her life. “No.” “You stubborn asshole! Where the hell are you? I am coming to pick you up.” “Serena, my life is such a wreck—” “And whose fault is that? Don’t you dare say yours!” He straightened his back, rubbing his eyes in anguish. “Give me the address. Now.” Rod read it off the sticker on the phone. “Don’t get out of the car. Keep the doors locked until you see me. Got it?” “Got it. Be there in a few hours.” He hung up, once again seeing his reflection in a mirror attached to the dresser. Hey, Hot-Rod…tonight. After lights out. Got it? He clenched his fists and looked at his duffle bag, which still sat where he had tossed it. Dropping down on the bed, Rod figured it’d take her six hours traveling up Interstate 5. It was nearly eight. Serena would be driving all night. She’s a nurse who works the late shift. She can handle it. Rod again fell backwards on the bed and stared at the ceiling. It felt as if he could never stand on his own two feet again. How was he supposed to rebound from this? ~ Serena Reynolds sipped her coffee from a travel mug. She’d made this trip every three months to see Rod while he was incarcerated. How could she forget that miserable day he was forced to plead guilty to manslaughter to avoid a life sentence. Seeing her hero FBI brother in handcuffs, wrongly accused, made her physically sick. He served ten years of his twenty year sentence. Was she supposed to be thankful for that? Fucking bastards. They betrayed you. Betrayed you! She knew the real story. Rod’s attorneys knew the real story as well. That was it. His co-workers either had no idea what really went down that day, or they were denying they knew to keep out of it. Keep their jobs, their records clean. The press coverage had been one-sided, all against Rod. The headlines

during his arrest and trial made Rod seem like a madman hellbent on murder. Serena sipped her coffee again, staring at the sparse traffic as she drove north. Poor Rod. The man worked so hard all his life. He didn’t deserve this. She tucked a stray wisp of hair which had fallen out of its clip, back from her forehead. Now he’s out. Where does he go from here? How does he rebuild his life? Serena had no idea, but she was determined to help. By one-thirty Serena was cruising down the local street where Rod said he was renting a room. The area was rundown and a few vagrants were loitering, looking at her as she passed in her silver Toyota Camry. Her satellite navigation system told her the destination was on the right. She leaned over closer to the windshield to see the motel sign. A man was leaning against the wall holding a duffle bag. If she didn’t know it was her brother, she’d be afraid of him. As she pulled up she unlocked the car doors. Rod opened the passenger’s door and threw his bag in the back seat. “Let me drive.” “I’m alright.” “I said, let me drive.” He walked around the front of the car. Serena was exhausted, but knew he had to be as well. They crossed in front of the headlights and she sat down in the passenger’s side. After he adjusted the seat to accommodate his six foot three inch height, Rod put the car in drive and sped off. “You okay?” She locked all the doors again from her side of the car. “I’ll live.” “You don’t have to play the strong silent type with me, Rod.” She stared at his profile. The stint he did ‘inside’ had aged him beyond his thirty-six years. Maybe it was the lack of a shave. She didn’t know. But he looked rough. “And you don’t have to play nursemaid with me, Nurse Reynolds.” “It’s what I do best.” She smiled at him. He smiled back and entered the highway south, back to LA.

~ By the time they pulled into the driveway of Serena’s home in Inglewood, Serena was asleep, leaning against the passenger’s door. Dawn was upon them and the morning rush hour around downtown Los Angeles was heating up. Over twelve hours total up and back. Guilt didn’t describe how Rod felt about putting Serena through it. No doubt she’d have her late shift that night and very little sleep because of him. He shut off the car and walked around to her side. The minute he opened the door, she awoke. “Come on.” He reached for her, helping her climb out of the car. While he held her upright, knowing she was probably still out of it, she searched her purse for her house key. “What time is your shift tonight?” “Six.” “Go to bed.” Rod nudged her to keep walking. Like a zombie, she did, vanishing into a doorway. Rod headed back outside to get his bag. He used the remote to lock the car and before he went inside, he gave her front yard and the area around her home a good once over. The sense of someone watching was turning him paranoid. He entered her home, locked her door, shaking the handle to make sure it was secure, then headed to the guest bedroom and tossed his bag once again on the floor. He stripped for the shower. While he wet himself down he tried to savor the cleansing of his skin, ridding himself of the stench of inside the prison. Hey, Hot-Rod…you’re my BJ bitch, you got that? Clenching his jaw at the fresh memories, he finished in the shower, shaving his scruffy face and trying to feel normal, which was impossible. As quietly as he could, Rod made a pot of coffee and a couple of pieces of toast, keeping the sound on the portable television in the kitchen low. Sitting at his sister’s kitchen table, which was small, pressed into a corner with three chairs on the available sides, Rod ate the toast and caught up on the news report. He felt like he had forgotten the world, and the world had forgotten him.

Chapter 3 By five in the afternoon, Rod heard the shower in his sister’s master bath turn on. He had been sitting on her sofa in the living room, the curtain closed, staring into space for nearly six hours. He wanted to sleep but every time he lay down he couldn’t close his eyes. So he gave up, coming to sit on her couch, and after flipping through channels of daytime TV junk, he shut it off and stared at nothing. Serena appeared in her scrubs. “Hi. Did you make yourself anything to eat?” He nodded. “Are you going to call Mom and Dad?” “No.” Her expression soured but she didn’t answer, disappearing into the kitchen. Rod envisioned her actions by the sounds she was making. He had become a good listener. It kept him alive. A fresh pot of coffee, the microwave’s hum, the portable television with a show he did not recognize spouting garbage. She reappeared in the doorway, holding a steaming mug. “Did you go out at all?” “No.” Serena sat next to him, staring at him. He didn’t meet her eyes. “Anything I can do?” “No.” He added, “No, thanks.” “I can’t imagine how hard this is for you.” “No. You can’t.” He finally looked at her. Her hair was wrapped up in a clip behind her head, her nurse’s uniform was crisp and ironed. “I can talk to the resident psychologist—” “No.” He again added softly, “No, thank you.” “How do you plan on moving on?” His attention diverted to the front window. Not living with my kid sister. That’s for sure. Her touch on his knee made him flinch. He wasn’t used to affectionate caresses any longer. His reaction made her draw her arm back.

“I’m sorry.” Rod reached for her hand and held it. “I get it. I really do.” She squeezed his hand and they both released the contact. “Let me in, Rod. Let me help you.” “Are you going to find me a job?” He smiled but knew it was a crooked smirk. “Get me a good position with law enforcement?” “Rod…” “That’s what I’m trained in, Serena.” He couldn’t help but sound bitter. “Street skills, investigation, emergency vehicle operation.” He showed his teeth. “And the best part? Sniper training. You think you can get me a job as a sniper?” “You can find work doing something else. Something you like.” The microwave oven made a bell noise, but Serena didn’t get up. “I loved my job. I don’t want to do anything else.” “Even after what those schmucks did to you?” Her eyes widened. “Locking you up for a crime you didn’t commit? You still want to work in the criminal justice system?” “Go eat your dinner.” He tilted his head to the kitchen, looking at the curtains of the front window again. “Do something else.” Serena stood, leaving the room. “Find something banal, something simple. Like painting or carpentry.” She vanished behind the wall. He snorted in distaste. “Paint.” He shook his head. “Here’s the highly trained assassin painting a living room.” Made him sick. The aroma of pasta with marinara sauce filled the air. Serena stood at the threshold holding a plastic bowl, blowing on her fork which was loaded with spaghetti. “You sure you don’t want some?” “No. Thank you.” He didn’t want to ever eat again. She turned away and he heard a chair scrape the linoleum floor as she sat at the table. I never should have come here. I can’t live here. But he was broke. His life savings went to pay for his attorney fees. He was denied his pension along with all his compensation for working a decade for the bureau.

After fifteen minutes he heard his sister washing her dishes at the sink. She disappeared into her room again, coming out a short time later with a light jacket on and her purse in her hand. “You have my cell phone number. Just call it. Okay?” She walked to the front door. “Do you want to give me a ride? So you have a car?” He bolted to his feet. “Yes.” Pointing a finger at his face, she said, “You be at the hospital at six a.m. or I’ll get even.” “I will be. I won’t let you down.” She smiled at him. “You never have.” ~ Once Rod had dropped Serena off at the hospital, he drove around LA just to grasp the lay of the land again, before heading to the coastline. He parked her car in a pay lot and jogged across the street towards sea and sand. It was too cool out for bathers, but surfers in wetsuits still braved the rocking waves. The wind grew strong as he approached the Pacific Ocean, but the scent of sea water and wet beach was paradise after being cooped up in a fenced-in lock-up with the dregs of society. His shoes sunk into the sand as he made his way towards the water. Seagulls spearheaded the gusts, craning their neck for food. Rod felt the breeze blow his hair around his forehead. Since he had worked undercover, he grew it longer than he’d had it when he was first hired. There was a time, back when he was still training, on probation, and a rookie, that people asked him if he worked for the military. That time was long gone. His hands stuffed deep inside the pockets of his black windbreaker, Rod didn’t stop walking until he hit the wet sand left by the receding tide. “Beautiful.” He smiled. It was as if he had to force his face muscles to respond. Smiling wasn’t an everyday occurrence for him in recent times. But the sun lowering on the western horizon was fabulous. Hot-Rod…tonight. That voice sent shivers over his skin, ruining his mood. “God!” He ground his jaw and rubbed his eyes. “Let go!”

Battling armed suspects he could handle, but fighting internal demons was impossible. After glancing around behind him, Rod sat on the dry sand, bending his knees and holding them close to himself. The waves were hypnotic and soothing. The sound of the constant water lapping and flowing was like tonic to his soul. When too many intruding thoughts began to make him crazy, Rod stood, brushing off his jeans, and headed back to the car. He sat behind the wheel and drove out of the lot. Out of a craving for affection, he headed to WeHo. Slowly cruising the Sunset Strip, Rod eyed the bars with gogo boys dancing behind glass window fronts. As someone pulled out of a parallel parking space, Rod quickly took it. He fed the meter and walked down the paved sidewalk, checking out the men, who were staring at him overtly. Rod stopped at a club, admiring the pretty young thing in his g-string, oiled and gyrating for the crowd. Though twenty-year old men were fantastic to watch, Rod didn’t think much of them for any type of mental stimulation. Someone his own age was preferable. A handsome man inside the club with a beer in his fist noticed Rod. Rod stared at him, liking the way the man looked. The man gestured for Rod to enter. Rod shook his head no. It took a minute, but the man downed his beer, put the glass aside and grabbed his coat. He met Rod, standing nose to nose. “Where?” the man asked. “I don’t know.” Rod smelled the alcohol on his breath, but the guy was so cute he still got an erection. “That’s why I wanted you to come into the club.” The man grinned. “Come on.” Rod followed him inside. It was dim in the interior and packed with men, drinking, laughing and ogling young hairless boys in g-strings. The man made a direct line to the back of the bar where it was even darker with low red lighting. Once his eyes adjusted, Rod could see men doing things to each other, some discreet, others not.

Staring Rod in the eye like a predatory cat, the man backed him up against the wall and smoothed his hand over Rod’s erection. Rod blew out a blast of air in relief, relaxing against the plasterboard, tuning out the surroundings. His jeans were unzipped and pulled open and a hand reached into his briefs, digging him out, exposing him. Rod felt his cock pulsate at the touch. The man lowered down to his knees, taking Rod into his mouth. “Oh, yes.” Rod rolled his head on the wall, petting the man’s dark hair. “That’s nice.” It’s about time I got my dick sucked. Rod kept his eyes on the man, seeing him expose his own dick and jack off as he sucked. He caught an older couple watching. Rod was used to people watching him. He’d been scrutinized his entire life. The sucking grew frenzied as the man shot jizz all over the floor. Rod tried. Tried hard. But couldn’t come. After a noble effort, Rod stopped the poor man. “It’s all right.” Rod met his eyes. The man appeared upset. “Tell me how to get you off.” “I liked it. Don’t worry.” Rod coaxed the handsome man to his feet. The man went for a kiss, but Rod politely turned his head to the side. His cock was still being stroked gently and the man’s hand worked its way under Rod’s shirt. They met eyes again. “You’re fucking gorgeous,” the man said. That made Rod chuckle under his breath. He felt like a ragged piece of shit. “Wow. Nice tats.” The man exposed Rod’s chest. “How many you got?” “Too many to count.” “Wanna see mine?” “Sure,” Rod said. The guy took off his coat, then his shirt, showing off his back and arms. “Very nice.” Rod nodded in appreciation. The handsome man leaned against Rod heavily. “Want me to try again?”

“I’m good. I’m just exhausted. It felt wonderful though.” His dick had gone slack, so Rod tucked it into his briefs and closed his pants. “Do you have a boyfriend?” “No. I don’t think I can handle one yet.” “I hear ya.” “Would you be upset if I left?” “No. No, man. Not at all.” The man stepped back, putting on his shirt. “Thank you.” “Hey, I wish I could have done a better job.” “Believe me, it wasn’t you.” Rod smiled but it fell as he walked to the exit. He didn’t even glance at the go-go boys. It felt as if everything in him wasn’t working right. Once again in the fresh air, twilight washed violet hues over the buildings and wispy clouds turned pink. Rod made his way back to the Toyota, trying not to feel black and empty inside. ~ It was slightly early to pick up Serena, but Rod was afraid if he lay around the house too long he’d fall asleep. He checked his watch and paced in the patient waiting area. Children cried, people coughed, held onto injured arms or sat hunched over their laps, rocking manically. “Can I help you?” “No. I’m just here to pick up my sister. She’s a nurse.” “Which nurse?” the woman in scrubs asked. “I’ll let her know you’re here.” “I’m a little early.” Rod checked his watch. “Nurse Reynolds. Serena Reynolds.” “You must be Rod. I’m Holly.” The woman extended her hand in greeting. “She talks about you all the time.” Rod grimaced as he shook her hand. Great. So you all know I’ve just been released from the pen. I’m going to kill her. “Come back to the break room. There’s no need for you to hang out here.” She led him through a security door. The corridor felt cluttered with gurney beds, red bio-hazard waste bins, metal shelving loaded with instruments, and medical personnel hustling around. “Just have a seat. I’ll let Serena know you’re here.”

Rod peered into a lounge with a couch, television, and small kitchen area. “Thanks.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets and stood with his back to the window, facing the door. A man entered wearing a white coat over a shirt and tie, dress slacks, with an ID tag flopping from his chest pocket. He held Rod’s gaze with his own for a moment before heading to the coffee pot. The blueness of the man’s eyes sent shivers down Rod’s spine. “Hey, big brother.” Serena poked her head in. “Ten minutes. Okay?” “Sure.” Rod met the man’s eye again. “Oh. Dr. Foley Russell, this is Rod, my brother.” Serena smiled brightly. “Rod, this is one of the new guys at the hospital. Dr. Russell just came back from serving in the Iraq war.” Rod’s impression of the good looking man increased substantially. He reached out his hand. “Doctor.” “Rod. Nice to meet you.” The grasp was powerful and full of confidence. “You guys get acquainted. Catch ya in a minute.” Serena left. “Your sister has been trying to endear me to the crew. I think she’s on a mission to make me feel welcome.” Dr. Russell smiled, showing dimples on his cheeks. “She’s like that. I don’t know whether it’s pushy on her part or concern.” “Concern. I like to give people the benefit of the doubt.” Foley pointed to the coffee pot. “Help yourself.” “I’m good.” Foley stepped closer. “What is it you do?” Rod died inside. “I…I…used to work for the FBI.” “Wow. Now we can relate.” The doctor sipped the coffee and said, “I bet it was like war for you too.” “Yeah. No kidding. A war we can’t win. Just like Iraq and Afghanistan.” “I wish I could debate that with you, but I agree.” Rod felt the doctor inspecting him and dreaded him finding out he was only telling a half truth. “Are you done with your service, Doc?”

“Call me, Foley. And yes. I’m done. I didn’t enlist. I was a reservist and did my time.” “How long?” “Two years.” Rod cringed. “Shit. I bet it sucked.” “It did. I still have nightmares. They refer to it as PTSD. How politically correct of them.” “I hear ya. Can’t sleep for shit myself.” Rod ran his hand back through his hair. “I can help you with that.” Rod met Foley’s eyes. A sensation of warmth spread over Rod’s chest. He imagined asking, ‘Is that an invitation, Doctor?’ “Can you?” Rod’s dick throbbed. Someone came into the room. The way he and Foley stepped away from one another, Rod would have thought they were kissing instead of talking. Are you gay? The male intern grabbed a pot of yogurt from the fridge and left as quickly as he came. “Am I keeping you from your patients? Rounds? Whatever you doctors do around here?” Rod smiled at him flirtatiously. “I’m entitled to a break.” Foley drank more of his coffee. “So, uh, are you married?” Sweat broke out on Rod’s skin. “No. You?” “No.” “Ready.” Serena looked dead on her feet. His sister’s sense of timing killed him. Rod wanted to continue this conversation but poor Serena needed to get horizontal. “Very nice to have met you.” Foley reached out again, obviously trying to end the meeting gracefully. Rod went for his hand, giving it a tight squeeze, gazing into those sky blue eyes as if he could communicate to him how much he wanted him. Maybe Foley sensed something. He held onto Rod’s hand firmly, studying his expression. Rod had the urge to give him his phone number, but he didn’t have a cell phone, and giving out Serena’s would be impolite without asking. It seemed neither of them wanted to let go.

Rod heard Serena clear her throat. It woke him out of his trance. He reluctantly broke the hold he had on Foley’s hand. “Nice meeting you too, Foley. Very nice.” Rod tried his best mental telepathy. “Hopefully I’ll see you next time you pick your sister up.” “That’d be great.” Rod’s excitement was piqued. “Should I take a cab?” Serena asked tiredly. Rod gave her a pleading glance to be patient and approached Foley to speak quietly. “You ever get time off?” “I do.” “You, um, want to grab a cup of coffee? You know, talk about the pitfalls of war?” He felt Serena’s stare on his profile. “That would be great.” Foley took his pen from his pocket and hunted for a piece of paper. On a napkin he wrote his phone number down, handing it to Rod. Rod took it. “I’ll call.” “I hope so.” Feeling Serena’s begging vibes, Rod gave Foley one last good inspection, including a gaze at his crotch, and followed his sister out into the hall. Rod looked over his shoulder, sensing Foley watching him leave. They locked glances one last time before he and Serena left the area into the waiting room. Rod removed the car keys from his pocket. Serena didn’t say a word until they were headed to her home. When she did she laughed. “So, Dr. Foley Russell is gay. I had a hunch, that’s why I wanted to introduce you. But if he is, that’s going to disappoint a lot of female medical personnel. So much for Dr. McDreamy two.” Rod smiled, but soon the specter of his time in prison cast a shadow. He assumed once the doctor heard that little ditty, he’d end the flirting game. “He’s great, Rod.” Serena’s eyes were red from her weariness. “Call him.” He didn’t answer, thinking grim thoughts.

Chapter 4 Serena had gone to bed the minute she arrived home. Rod read the morning paper as he sipped coffee at her kitchen table. When the phone rang his first impulse was to ignore it but he didn’t want it to wake his sister. She’d only been asleep for three hours. “Hello?” “Rod?” He felt his skin go cold. “Hi, Mom.” “I…I didn’t hear you’d been released. When did you get out?” “Yesterday.” “Oh.” Dead silence. The last thing Rod could remember about his mother and father were their expression of disappointment when he was led directly to jail after the plea. They were stone-faced and could barely look him in the eye even though, as far as Rod was concerned, his defense attorneys had spared him a life sentence. “Serena is sleeping. I’ll tell her you called.” Rod was ready to hang up. “Rod?” “Yes?” “How are you?” In the ten years he was behind bars they didn’t visit once. He got one letter from his mother after his first week of incarceration. The envelope had two lines on the face; the prison name and a zip code. A prison with its own zip code. Rod imagined he’d have to list that as one of his past addresses now. “I’m fine.” “Is there anything your father or I can do for you?” Rod didn’t think his mother would even ask. He was slightly relieved. “I may need a loan to get my own place.” “Do you have any work lined up?” “No. Not at the moment.” “We’ll talk more about it when you do.” Though it made sense, Rod still felt hostile about her hesitation. “Okay.” “Bye, Rod.”

“Bye.” He hung up and stared at the newspaper. Not only was it difficult for an ex-convict to get work, but in this economy even a college grad would struggle. The odds were stacked against him. He looked at the want-ads anyway. Paint? Can I paint? Work construction? “What choice do I have?” He folded the newspaper back, calling the ads that looked promising and the least likely to reject him outright. On the third call, after being told by the first two to email a resume and they would call him, Rod wondered if this was going to be a useless waste of time. “Day-Jobs, can I help you?” “Yes, I’m calling in response to your ad in the paper for a day laborer.” Rod leaned on his elbows as he spoke, rubbing his head. “Hold please.” Rod tapped the table nervously. A man connected to the line and said, “This is Bob Smith, can I help you?” “Yes. I need work. Do you have any openings?” “We pay by the hour. You show up that morning and if we get a job to send you to you get paid at the end of the day.” “Okay.” “Do you have a valid driver’s license?” “Yes.” Judging by the question, Rod had a feeling the applicants were not of the highest quality. “Come by the office as soon as you’re able to and fill out some paperwork.” “Okay. Where are you located?” Rod scribbled the address on the newspaper. He recognized the area. “So? What’s your story? You don’t sound like an immigrant. Ex-con?” Rod cringed. “Yeah.” “What was your rap?” “Manslaughter.” “How many years?” “Ten.” Rod waited for the rejection. “Bring your release paperwork.”

“Okay.” The man hung up. After he disconnected the line, Rod set the phone on the table and slouched in his chair. “You okay?” He looked over his shoulder. “I’m sorry I woke you.” “It’s okay. I need to get up. I can’t sleep all day. It screws me up.” Serena poured a cup of coffee for herself. “Did you get an interview?” “Day laborer. Classy, huh?” “It’s work.” Serena sat next to him, looking worn out. “Why don’t you get off nights?” “I will. It’s just the extra money is good.” “Mom called.” “Was that who it was? She usually doesn’t call so early because she knows I sleep in.” Rod checked his watch and smiled. “It’s noon.” Serena blushed and kept drinking her coffee. “Anyway, she said she’d give me a loan to get my own place if I got a job. So I’ll be out of your hair soon.” “You’re not in my hair. You can stay as long as you need to.” “Thanks, sis.” Rod stood and put his mug into the sink. “Let me head out and speak to this guy about work. Do you need the car?” “No. Not really. I could do some errands, but it can wait until later.” “Like what? Food shopping?” Serena nodded. “Don’t worry about it.” “Give me a list of what you need.” “I’ll do it later. Go.” She pushed him towards the front of the house. “Just be here to drive me to work later.” “I feel like the biggest pain in the ass.” “You’re not. Stop being so hard on yourself. You would do it for me, wouldn’t you?” “Yes.” Rod would, in a heartbeat. “I know. Go. Go get work as a big beefy laborer.” Rod headed to the guest bedroom and leafed through his paperwork. Looking at life from the opposite side of law enforcement was a rude awakening. Was this why most

criminals kept living off drug money? The prospect of real employment was an unreachable goal? He would find out. Rod pulled into a lot filled with pickup trucks and rusty sedans from the eighties. A few ragged looking men with darklytanned, outdoor complexions and wearing ball caps were smoking cigarettes outside a door. Rod walked into the office beyond the smoke cloud, avoiding eye contact. The interior had several plastic molded chairs chaotically arranged in an open area near a counter with a desk and computer. Two women sat behind it, one on the phone, one typing on a computer keyboard. He stood by, waiting. “Can I help you?” the woman looked up from her computer. “Bob Smith asked me to come in and fill out paperwork.” She slid a stack of papers onto a clipboard and handed Rod a pen. “Fill these out. When you’re done, bring it back to me.” Nodding, Rod sat on a blue plastic chair with his own paperwork under the clipboard and began writing. Job experience. Ten-mother-fucking-years working law enforcement for the FBI. Sniper. Undercover work in partnership with the DEA in Mexico where I earned the Shield of Bravery for my work. Ironically, Rod wondered if those credentials would be a stumbling block to be able to work with so many men who had potential warrants out for their arrest. He remembered staking this place out as a rookie. It was easy pickings for arrest stats for illegal aliens, out-of-state felony warrants and interstate drug trafficking. For his previous interviews he would shave, dress up in a suit, look his best. Now? Scruffy, faded jeans, work boots, cotton shirt. What’s the point? They don’t want a suit, they want a body that can shovel. He completed the forms and handed the clipboard to the woman, noticing other men had come in and were doing the same. Even on the lowest rung of the ladder there was competition.

“Bob?” the woman knocked on an office door. A voice called her to enter. She poked her head in, holding out the clipboard. “You need to meet this one.” Rod perked up but didn’t show it. A man in his fifties, stocky, in a flannel shirt and baggie pants appeared. “Rod?” He waved Rod towards him. He recognized Bob Smith’s voice from the phone. Rod walked through a low swinging door in the counter and entered the man’s office. Inside was a controlled mass of paperwork and file cabinets and the scent of mold and perspiration. “Have a seat.” Bob sat in his springy swivel chair with the corners worn down to frayed fibers as Rod sat on the plastic seat in front of the desk. It took Bob a moment to read Rod’s form. He looked up, studying Rod closely. Rod didn’t flinch under the inspection. “What the fuck happened?” “Shot another agent.” “Accidental?” “No. Self-defense.” “Why they hell did you do time?” Rod ground his jaw. “You need to know this so I can dig a ditch?” Bob tossed the clipboard on the pile of paper on his desk and leaned on his elbows, closer to Rod. “I’m an ex-San Diego police officer. Got fired for too many DUI’s. I had to ask myself what’s my personal life got to do with my job?” Rod had a feeling Bob Smith was bitter about losing his career. Seems they had something in common. “Lost a job making over a hundred thousand a year. When the work left, so did my wife.” Bob leaned back, rocking the chair, crossing his arms over his stomach. “I know what it’s like when those bastards turn on you.” Rod didn’t want to go into any more detail. He waited, staring at him. “The average hourly pay is sixteen, but it varies. A guy like you shouldn’t need to be a day laborer. When you get on site, talk to the manager. No way they won’t snatch you up. Any idiot can see you’re not like the rest.”

“I appreciate the vote of confidence.” Rod figured the other workers had petty crimes on their record, not manslaughter. “Tell Ina to put you on the top of the list. Can you work today?” “I have my sister’s car. I can give it back to her and get her to drop me off.” “Fuck that. Start tomorrow. Get her to drop you here in the morning. I always give the workers one of the trucks out back to use during the day for the jobs. I need someone with a valid license to drive the crew. And I probably have an old heap you can have until you find a car.” “Why are you being so nice to me?” Rod had serious trust issues. Bob rested his arms on the desk again. “’Cause I get it. Ya got screwed by the bureau. I get it.” Rod was not going to refuse the offer. He reached out his hand. “Thanks, man.” “Hang in there, buddy. You’ll do okay.” Before Rod drove back to Serena’s home, he cruised down Sunset Strip looking at the pretty boys. His window open, his naked arm on the driver’s door, showing off his tattoos, Rod was hungry for men. For ten years he’d been surrounded by them, smelled them, and been abused and irritated by them. He’d always preferred men for sex. That’s why he ended up losing his job in the first place. The biggest homophobes on the planet were the assholes who puffed up their chests and pointed fingers at everyone else, yelling ‘Queer!’ the loudest. And they were also deep in the closet. Just as a handsome man strolling down the avenue made eye contact with Rod, the memory of the moment he choose to place his finger on the trigger and fire flashed through his head. In the darkness of the alley he could see the gunpowder ignite the forty caliber bullet from his MP5. The noise deafening in the brick corridor as it bounced and echoed. Rod watched the sneer of disgust on the special agent in charge change to shock as he grabbed his neck and blood began to spurt through his fingers.

The handsome man on the street cocked his head towards Rod as Rod stopped for traffic. Rod licked his lips as the man grabbed his crotch, trying to entice. Even with temptation staring Rod in the face, Rod kept moving, giving the man a friendly wave. Serena needed her car. She had errands to do. Besides, he probably wouldn’t be able to come. Turning off the strip, Rod headed back to Inglewood. At least he had decent news to tell her. He got a day laborer’s job. “Won’t that make Mommy and Daddy proud?” He pulled into her driveway, looking around the swaying palm trees and overgrown shrubs for crouching suspects. Who knew he was out of prison? Would there be retaliation? Or would they assume he was out for revenge and try to kill them first? Rod didn’t put anything past anyone any longer. His trust had gone out of the window with a ten year prison term. Other than Serena, he trusted no one. “I’m glad you’re back.” She met him at the car door. “Here.” He handed her the car keys. “Any luck?” “I can get paid hourly wages at the day labor place over on West Exposition.” “Good. Hey. It’s work. Go rest. Let me get some errands out of the way. Do we need to find you a car?” They both returned to the house. Rod used to enjoy driving the FBI GMC truck which was tricked out with the latest toys. Another perk of the job. “The boss said he’d lend me a pickup until I can afford to buy a car.” “Wow. That’s pretty cool. I’m glad you two hit it off.” Serena put her jacket on. “Do you want to come?” “Not unless you need me to.” “I’m good. Anything you want me to buy for you? Like beer or hard liquor?” Rod couldn’t remember his last beer. Oh yes. He did. The night before the shooting he and a few colleagues from work were laughing and enjoying themselves in a bar near their resident agency on Wilshire. “Rod?” “Huh?”

“Go rest.” Serena squeezed his arm. “I’ll be back in an hour.” Nodding, feeling disoriented and trying to get his mind right, Rod walked her to the front door, locking it after waiting for her to get into her car safely. He removed his shoes and shirt, reclining on the bed, staring at the ceiling fan which was not turned on. Exhaustion finally getting the better of him, he dozed off. “You do as I say. You don’t know what’ll happen to you if you don’t. You gotta sleep sometime, Hot Rod.” “Shut up. Leave me alone.” “Don’t no ex-FBI rat tells me to shut up.” “Fuck off.” “Only one kinda of fucking off going to go on tonight.” “Later. Okay? Let me sleep. I just have to get some sleep.” “One hour. You got it?” “Whatever. Just let me sleep.” The dream sequence changed. Rod was in a dark alley. “Cocksucker! Scum like you should rot in hell.” Rod bolted upright, reaching for his gun with the sound of shots ringing in his ears. Gasping for breath, he looked around the dim bedroom as sweat ran down his chest and temples. The dream dissipated to dust as he tried to slow down his heart rate. Using the shirt he’s taken off, he wiped his face and neck. “Fuck.” He checked the time. He had only been asleep for an hour. Flopping back to the mattress again, Rod knew he was sick both physically and mentally from what he had been through. And from where he stood now, he never imagined life would improve. The noise of Serena’s car pulling into the driveway motivated Rod to get out of bed. He opened the front door and hurried out in his stocking feet to help her with the grocery bags. While she handed him the items from the trunk, she said, “When did you get all those tattoos?” “While I was working undercover.” He carried the bags into the house, placing them on the kitchen table.

“You look so tough. Not the brother I knew growing up.” “It was all part of the façade. I lived undercover for years.” He put the milk and eggs into the refrigerator. “I know. I remember it was like you had disappeared. You never called anyone.” “I had to be very careful.” He straightened his back and grabbed the fresh vegetables off the counter. Before he was able to put them in the bin, he caught Serena’s eyes. The sympathy in them went through him like a knife. “You loved your work. I’m so sorry, Rod.” “Easy come, easy go.” He tossed the head of lettuce and bag of carrots into the crisper. “They stole ten years from you. That’s a long time.” Rod blew out a loud breath. “I can’t think of that. If I do, I get mad. Who can I be mad at, Serena?” “At least that homicidal, homophobic fucker is dead.” She went back to unpacking the cans and cereal boxes. “Wasn’t I smart for shooting him?” Rod asked sarcastically. “Killing the SAC sure was the right thing to do.” “He threatened you with his gun!” Serena put her hands on her hips. “He shot first!” “And?” Rod gestured as if he were helpless. “You shot in self-defense!” Serena was screaming. Rod knew this angered her as much as it did him. “What were you supposed to do, Rod? Hm? Take a bullet so you didn’t hurt the murdering bastard?” “Yes. That’s exactly right.” He pointed at her. “If I’d have taken that bullet, I’d never have gone to prison. Never. If anything? He’d have been the one in jail getting his ass beaten every night, and I would have gotten a medal and a promotion.” “He wanted to kill you.” “It was a risk I should have taken.” “You were trained to react. To shoot back. You can’t blame yourself for defending your life.” “Can’t I?” Rod laughed sadly. “I went to jail!” he choked as he cried the words out. “I was convicted of manslaughter. No one believed I did it in self defense.” “Because he was a big fat loser. The stupid jury felt sorry for the creep. They looked at you,” she waved her fingers at him,

“young, fit, gorgeous, powerful…and they thought, ‘Oh, what an uneven battle. The poor old man.’” She made the gestures of spitting symbolically on the floor. “That piece of shit made your life miserable since you were assigned to LA’s field office. But they never even let you tell that side of the story. Of his badgering you because you were gay, of his constant jabs at your manhood, your looks, your—” Rod covered his ears. He’d been in torment for ten years over this and it was too much. She shut up. He stumbled out of the kitchen, feeling blind with rage at the injustice he’d been served. “Rod. I’m sorry. Rod.” Shutting down mentally, Rod crumbled on top of the bed into the fetal position and covered his face. The touch of her hand made him jump as if he’d been struck with a bat. “Shh. I’m sorry. It’s just that I’m so angry.” Serena’s voice quavered. She cuddled behind him, spooning him, holding him tight. “It’s unfair.” Rod heard her words get swallowed up with her emotions. “Nothing in life is fair.” “No. This was way off, way wrong.” Serena’s anger flashed again. “I’d do anything to go back to that trial and change it. They put an innocent man into prison, took away the job he loved and stole ten years away from him. I hate everyone who took part in that trial. The jury, the prosecutor, the judge, the agents who testified against you…” “Let it go. Stop hating.” Rod moved so they were no longer in contact. Even having someone touch him was difficult. He’d done things in prison in exchange for favors and protection, and physical contact was not what it used to be. Not yet. When Rod rolled to face her he noticed her inspecting the scar on his side where he’d been cut with a shiv fashioned out of a pen. His first week inside, word got out he was an FBI undercover agent. The fight was on. He made sure the first man to torment him got so black and blue he was taken to the infirmary with bruised ribs and a broken nose. The guards broke it up and they were both placed in solitary.

But fighting wasn’t enough to keep him alive. From then on he was in fear of his life, and did ‘special’ favors for the most influential man in his dormitory. It kept him protected and free of attacks. It also changed his attitude toward sex. Sex was simply currency inside. Not a way to establish love or a relationship. “I can’t imagine what you’ve been through.” “Don’t try.” He managed to give her a weak smile. “Let me make you something to eat.” “Don’t go out of your way.” “I have to have dinner before my shift.” “Okay.” “Do you want to drive me?” She reached for his hand as they stood off the bed. “Sure.” He put his t-shirt on over his head and followed her to the kitchen. ~ Once at the hospital, Serena said, “Come inside for a minute,” as she held the inner car door handle. “Why?” “Come inside!” she teased playfully. “Park.” Though he put the car in park and shut off the engine, Rod said, “You do realize he will be busy.” “You never know.” She walked backwards, watching him, as Rod trailed behind. “I feel like an idiot.” “He wants you to call him. He gave you his number.” “Shut up.” Rod chuckled. “I’m the one who asked.” “Come.” She held his hand and walked through the waiting room containing screaming children and whining patients, to the security door. She used her ID to gain entry and dragged Rod with her. “Have a cup of coffee in the lounge.” Serena physically moved Rod into the room and left. He stopped short and looked around. A few employees were taking a break, eating or sipping coffee, looking at the television which was suspended by wall brackets. The evening news was on.

Waiting for the good doctor to show up, Rod seriously felt like a moron. He didn’t want to get involved yet. He didn’t even feel like a normal human being yet. “Mr. Reynolds.” Rod spun around at the sound of Foley’s voice. It was playful and immediately excited him. “Hi, Doc.” Foley extended his hand. Rod rushed for the touch. They gripped each other tightly and drew close enough to brush arms. “Serena tells me you have a question for me.” Rod didn’t relinquish his hold. The rest of the room fell into a dark tunnel as his attention was on one man. “I have a question?” “Yes.” Rod was lost in Foley’s blue eyes. He could catch a scent of his aftershave or cologne, feel the tensile strength of Foley’s body through his powerful grasp. “What question?” Foley chuckled and opened his fingers, releasing their clasp. “You tell me.” “Question?” Rod felt his cheeks heat up as he tilted his head. “Aha.” Foley nodded. “A ruse. I fell for it.” Rod was sure he was beet red. He rubbed his coarse jaw in embarrassment. “Tell me,” Foley whispered, “is she matchmaking?” Before he ruined it with a quick line of defense, Rod swallowed audibly. “I hope so.” “You have my number.” Foley’s eyes flickered to Rod’s lips then back to his gaze. “I do want you.” Rod verbally stumbled from his forwardness. “Want…want to get to know you. To talk.” “Uh huh.” Foley’s eyes lit up excitedly. “Did she…” Rod asked quietly, “Did Serena tell you anything about me?” “Anything I want to know, I’ll find out myself. From you.” Rod felt other people in the room staring at him. He didn’t want to get the doctor into trouble. “Ever get a day off?” “It doesn’t seem that way. Are you coming to pick Serena up again?” “Yes.” “I may have enough energy to grab a cup of coffee with you.”

“At six in the morning after a twelve hour shift? You sure that’s not asking too much?” Rod’s heart beat faster. “Only if you don’t want to.” “I do.” Rod answered so quickly he felt like a pregnant bride at the altar. “Uh…sure.” “I’ll see you at six.” “See ya.” Rod watched Foley’s strut as he left, salivating at the body hidden under the suit and white jacket. His attention was drawn to Serena’s wicked smile. “Thanks, sis.” “See ya later.” She waved. He left the hospital wondering if perhaps there was something to salvage from his life. A day job and a boyfriend? Could he be that lucky?

Chapter 5 Foley stood at his locker, feeling dead on his feet, hanging up his white coat and stethoscope, swapping it for his suit jacket and car keys. He slipped off his necktie and folded it, putting it into his jacket pocket and checked his phone for missed calls. Fatigue and hunger were two things he was used to. After two years in Iraq, doing surgery at the front lines, Foley didn’t think anything here in the states could ever be as horrible as that. With a metallic slam he closed his locker door and headed out of the private medical personnel area to the waiting room. A man was standing near the exit, his hands deep in the pockets of his jacket, his jeans faded and skin tight. When they met gazes, Foley felt his heart skip a beat. Rod’s masculine good looks were just what he craved. “Hey.” Foley looked around. “Where’s Serena?” “I let her drive home. I assumed you could drop me off at work after a cup of coffee.” “You assumed correctly.” Foley gestured to the door with a tilt of his head. Rod appeared nervous, or shy. Foley pointed. “I’m parked in that lot over there.” “Okay.” They walked side by side, not speaking as Foley led the way to his car. Foley used his key fob to open the locks on his car doors. Once they were sitting down in the bucket seats of the twodoor Audi coupe, Foley said, “Any place in particular you want to go to?” “Anything is fine. I’m not picky.” The amount Rod jumped when Foley placed his hand on top of his surprised Foley. “Sorry.” “It’s okay.” Rod’s cheeks went crimson as he tried to cover up his embarrassment. Foley made a move to start the car. “Look. Wait.” Rod stopped him, turning in the seat to face him. Foley dropped his hand to his lap and gave Rod his undivided attention.

It seemed as if Rod was in turmoil, struggling to find his words. “You can’t say anything to shock me, Rod. I’ve seen it all. And more.” “I just got out of prison.” That, Foley was not prepared for. “What were you charged with?” “Manslaughter. I did ten of the twenty year term.” Letting it sink in, Foley asked, “Did you kill a lover?” “No. I killed a hater.” “On duty?” Foley tried not to be confused, but he was. “Yes. I was undercover at a stakeout. I thought we all had a common enemy. I was wrong.” Foley blinked and gestured to Rod to keep talking. After scrubbing his jaw with his hand, Rod met his gaze again. “An old timer on the scene…” Rod looked around the parking area. “He had been giving me a hard time about being gay.” “Oh no.” Foley had a very bad feeling. “So…” Rod looked out of the windshield as he spoke, “So, we’re all on this detail. I’m in the dark alley waiting for the signal for entry after the buy connection. It was an interstate drug bust. Big dealer, high up the chain.” Rod rubbed his mouth and then his chin with the palm of his hand. “This SAC I’m with—” “SAC?” “Special Agent in Charge.” “Go on.” “He starts jabbing at me. Saying all this shit.” Foley was stunned Rod was revealing this story to him. But it occurred to Foley that Rod may have to reveal it, to keep sane. “All I’m telling him is to shut up. We’re standing in a black alley waiting for the shooting to begin. Our entry unit was manning the front and we were covering the back. Just me and…” “The homophobic ass.” “Yeah.” Rod covered his eyes. “I’m listening.” After an audible gulp of anxiety, Rod said, “I look over my shoulder and he’s pointing his gun at my head.”

“At your head?” “At my head.” Rod made eye contact again and Foley could see his eyes were watery. “His finger wasn’t indexed, it was on the trigger. He was preparing to fire. My guess? The minute the shooting began inside, I was dead.” “Jesus.” “Sure as shit, we get the signal to move, and ‘shots fired’ was announced over radio. Just as I go to make entry.” “The fucker shot at you?” Foley was stunned. “Yeah.” Rod slumped in his seat. “Why am I unloading this on you? I’m sorry.” He used his finger and thumb to rub his eyes. “I’m a good listener. It comes with the territory.” “I don’t even know you. I should just see a shrink. I’m sorry.” “Don’t be.” Foley scooted over and wanted to touch him. He just didn’t know if Rod would recoil. “So…you shot back and ended up in jail for manslaughter when it was self-defense.” Rod nodded, not making eye contact. “Did you appeal?” “I did. Useless.” Foley couldn’t conceive of Rod’s loss. The ten years of jail time, the job, the reputation, the isolation. “That’s wrong. Just dead wrong.” Foley touched Rod’s hand very lightly. “Still reality.” Rod sunk in the seat, his legs straddling wide. “Were you just released?” “Monday.” “Anything you need. I’m here.” Rod looked at him. “Thanks. But I think your plate is already full. Just back from serving two years in Iraq? You need someone sane.” “On the contrary.” Foley laughed sadly. “Sane people are too much of a headache.” “Right.” Rod sat up straighter. “Now that I spilled my guts out and you didn’t bolt, coffee?” “You got it.” Foley started the car. Rod checked his watch. “What time do you have to be at work?” Foley drove out of the parking space.

“Eight. Hourly laborer. Nice, huh?” “It’s a paycheck.” “Yeah. Right.” Foley could hear the bitterness. He totally understood why. “One day at a time, Rod.” “I’ve been living that way for a decade.” “So have I.” Foley boldly clasped Rod’s hand. It was squeezed in return. He headed out of the parking lot of Good Samaritan to the local coffee shop. ~ Rod had no idea why he opened up that way. He’d envisioned keeping his secrets eternally. But… As he stood on line at the coffee shop, seeing Foley’s sharp appearance and good looks, he had high hopes of knowing him on a deep level. Ten years of groping in the night had taken its toll. Rod didn’t even know if he could get an orgasm with another man. All of the contact in prison turned him off. He gave head and he never got anything back, nor wanted it. No one touched his dick but him, and the self-stimulation became non-existent as he literally lost touch with himself emotionally and physically. He hadn’t kissed a man since he was a rookie agent. One brief affair with a special who had been transferred within a year. That was it. Rod kept to himself to stop the rumor mill from destroying him. It didn’t work. It still completely murdered his career. Look at you. Rod could see the woman barista licking her chops at the handsome doctor. Foley had a certain charisma that Rod found very enticing. Rugged and masculine, yet handsome enough to star in a Gillette commercial shaving his black five o’clock shadow. “What would you like, Rod?” “Coffee. Black coffee.” “You sure? They make a vanilla frappe that’s out of this world.” The sparkle of mischief in Foley’s eye had Rod hooked. “Okay.” When Rod went for his wallet, Foley held him back and paid.

As they waited for their drinks, Rod teased, “Vanilla frappe? Really?” “Don’t knock it ‘til you try it.” “I could spend five bucks less and get a McDonald’s milkshake.” “I need to spoil you.” Trying to keep it playful and not take insult, Rod gave Foley a big smile. “Wow. That would be a first.” “Indulge me.” Foley handed Rod his drink and a straw. They made their way to an open table by the front window. Foley waited until Rod tasted it. “Good.” “I wouldn’t steer you wrong.” Rod took a strong slurp through the straw of the thick shake. “Tell me about Iraq.” Before he answered, Foley appeared to be reliving some events in his mind. His smile faded. “It’s what you would imagine, only there’s more blood, more pain, and more lifeless bodies.” “Jesus.” Rod rubbed his forehead. “I hate to say this, Rod.” Foley looked dead serious. “But I would have preferred being in jail for those two years.” “Fuck.” “Look, I’m not belittling the agony of what you must have gone through, but seeing young men get blown to pieces.” Foley shook his head and stuck the straw in his teeth. “I hear ya. I do.” Rod scanned the area around them, like he always did wherever he was. “I wish I could have done more for them.” Rod’s eyes seemed to lose their focus. “We did what we could to put them back together, but I still get haunted by the ones I lost.” “PSTD.” Rod tried to smile but failed. “Yeah. It’s such a nice little catch all, isn’t it? You can say you have it too. We can be in therapy together.” Rod chuckled, opening the cap of the cup and gulping the frappuccino when the straw took too much work. “How you doing on time?” Rod nodded. “Okay. Still got a half hour.” “How do you like the job?” “I have no idea. This is my first day.”

“Really?” “What else can I do? They took my badge, my right to carry a weapon, everything. I’m not trained for a fucking thing.” “Ever try nursing?” Rod gave Foley a look of disbelief. “You’re kidding, right?” “Just a thought. There’s always a demand.” “A demand for nurses with a felony manslaughter arrest on their record? Sure, Doc.” Rod finished his drink and set the cup on the table. He knew he’d gulped it too fast when he got ‘brain freeze’, but felt he had to hurry. “Serena and I could put in a good word.” “I’d have to go back to school. Get certified. Nah. Can’t do it. Not yet. I can dig a ditch. That I can do.” “What a waste.” Rod shrugged. “You’re telling me.” “Are you living with Serena?” “Until I get my own place.” “It must suck starting from scratch.” “Didn’t you when you finished your tour?” “Not really. I had my home and my car waiting for me…and my job.” Rod glanced around the area and asked, “I assume you’re not seeing anyone at the moment.” “Nope.” Foley’s blue eyes gleamed. “Good.” “Oh? Do you have designs on me, Rod?” Rod’s cock throbbed at the overt sexual tease. “Yeah.” Foley took both their empty cups and stood, tossing them into the trash. He made a move for the exit, giving Rod a hungry stare. Rod hopped to his feet and imagined he was the tail on Foley’s bottom, wagging as he walked. Foley parked a block away from the day labor office. In the shade of an enormous oak tree, he shut off the ignition and put his arm on the back of the seat behind Rod. “Can I kiss you?” There was nothing Rod wanted more. But he was terrified. Of exactly what, he didn’t know. Trust was a huge issue with him,

and he had been betrayed by the men and women he worked with on a deep level. Sensing his reluctance, Foley asked, “Can I touch you?” “Yes.” Rod battled with dark images, staring directly at Foley to combat them. Foley cupped Rod’s face gently. The touch sent Rod’s cock throbbing down the leg of his jeans. Foley ran his fingertips across the stubble on Rod’s jaw, over his sideburn and into his hair, holding his head firmly. Rod tried to get his breathing under control as it accelerated. Foley drew nearer, until Rod could feel his exhale, a puff of air on his lips. Foley massaged Rod’s scalp through his thick hair, making chills rush over Rod’s body. Rod made the next move. He pressed his lips again Foley’s. It made Rod’s head swim with lust. Neither opened their mouths or used a tongue. Rod sat back, catching his breath, staring at his crotch which was filling with his hard dick. “I want to see you again.” Foley petted Rod’s hair affectionately, digging through its length. “Good.” “My work schedule is grueling. Will you be patient with me?” “I’ve waited ten years to get free. I can wait a week for you.” Rod noticed Foley’s attention move towards his crotch. “I’m hard as a fucking brick, don’t worry.” “I see that.” Foley grinned. “Same here.” Rod stared between Foley’s legs. “Jesus, it’s been so long since I’ve wanted someone.” “Do you want me?” Foley touched Rod’s lower lip with his thumb, still cupping Rod’s jaw. “Very much.” “My next day off is Saturday. Are you off weekends?” “I assume so. I’ll let you know.” “Do you have a cell phone?” Foley asked. “Not yet. Let me give you Serena’s home number.” Foley pressed his lips against Rod’s once more before backing up to find a pen and paper. He handed it to Rod. While Rod wrote the information, he noticed two scruffy men walking

down the sidewalk near them. They looked into the car as they went. Rod felt an icy chill inside his gut. They were the kind of men to be headed to the day labor office. “Here.” Rod handed Foley the paper. “You know them?” Foley pointed to the men as they continued walking away. “I just think they’ll be going to the same place I am.” “Shit. I’m sorry.” “Don’t worry. I can handle it.” “I don’t want you to handle it. I should have parked farther away.” “Stop.” Rod shook his head. “I have to go.” “Call me anytime. And if I don’t hear from you by Saturday, I’ll call you. Okay?” “Yes.” Rod felt anxiety ridden. He opened the car door and waved, walking to the office, not looking back. ~ Foley drove to his condo in Glendale off Ventura Freeway. He used the remote to open the gated door, and pulled into one of the spaces of his two car garage. Exhaustion beginning to win the battle to be horizontal, Foley walked up the two cement steps to his home. He took in his mail before opening his door, then kicked off his shoes at the entrance where a beige throw rug was situated. The entire first level was oak flooring with white walls and minimalist brown leather and light ash wood furniture. As he climbed the staircase to the second floor and his bedroom, Foley thought about Rod. He didn’t want to allow sympathy to be the overriding factor in his attraction. The man had been through a lot and he wasn’t sure he wanted to be the back to carry both of them. He had always dreamed of finding a man who was strong enough to deal with all their baggage. Simply put, Foley was tired of taking care of other people and was looking for strength and independence. He wasn’t sure he was prepared for an emotional basket case who was broke as well as mentally screwed up. He stripped down to his briefs and washed, crawling under the sheets to sleep, trying not to worry about a man who may

never call or see him again. But Foley thought about Rod regardless of what his common sense told him to do. ~ Bob stood behind the office building with a set of keys. “Use that one there.” He pointed to a 2000 model Ford F10. “Take Juan and Pedro with you.” Rod made brief eye contact with the two men, the ones who had walked by Foley’s car. Rod took the keys Bob handed him. “They know where the job is,” Bob said. Rod climbed into the driver’s seat and fastened the belt as the other two slid onto the bench seat next to him. Pedro flicked his cigarette out of the window and adjusted his ball cap. “Where is it?” Rod asked as he backed up, waving at Bob. “Keep going. Out of the lot. Turn right.” Rod merged into traffic, waiting to be told where to go. When the two men began to converse in Spanish Rod figured they assumed he couldn’t understand. He could. Stopping at a light, Rod asked, “Just keep going?” “Keep going,” Juan indicated to go straight. The two men chuckled after a comment which was mumbled low but Rod heard it. He said, “Yeah, I’m gay. Either of you got a problem with that?” Both men jerked their heads around to look at him. “And I speak fluent Spanish,” he said in their language. The men apologized profusely, but Rod ignored them from then on. ~ By five o’clock Rod had blisters all over his hands and felt as if he had rolled in the dirt he was digging all day. Seated in the rig, driving back to the office, he stunk and wondered out of the three of them in the front seat, who smelled the worst. He threw the transmission into park and climbed stiffly out of the driver’s seat. With signed paperwork in his hand, Rod, Juan, and Pedro entered the office and handed in their forms for cash. While Rod stood at the counter, counting his earnings, Bob approached him. “How did it go?” “About what I expected.” Rod put the cash into his wallet.

“Let me see your hands.” Rod opened his palms, showing off his bleeding pads. “Did you wear gloves?” “Yeah.” “You’ll toughen up. They’ll form calluses.” Bob said goodbye to some other men that were leaving for the day. “You got time for a beer?” “I’m beat. Can I pass? I just need to get a ride home from my sister, and she’s about to head into work for the late shift.” Rod checked his watch. “Maybe next time.” Bob nodded and walked away. “Oh. And remind me soon about checking out one of the old trucks to loan you.” “Okay.” Rod asked Ina, “Can I use the phone a minute?” She handed him the cordless. Rob dialed Serena. “Hey. Can you pick me up?” “I can but I have to go straight to the hospital. I don’t have time to drive you home.” “I can drop you off and pick you up in the morning.” Rod noticed a couple of men look at him strangely. Rod had no idea how fast the gossip would spread about his sexuality. “Okay. Where is it again?” Rod gave her the address. “I’ll be out front. And…I stink.” She chuckled. “Okay. See you soon.” He gave Ina back the phone. “Thanks.” “No problem. There’s a bathroom back there if you need it.” She pointed to the far corner of the waiting area. “Does it have a shower?” he teased. “Yes, as a matter of fact.” “Thanks.” He jogged over to it and closed the door behind him. A tiny shower head stuck out of the wall near the toilet and a drain was in the middle of the floor. Rod looked into the mirror over the sink. He was covered in soot. After removing his shirt, he splashed his face, neck and pits, tempted to strip down and rinse under the shower head, but he’d wait to do it at Serena’s place. Without a towel, what was he supposed to do, strut around nude and air dry? Using paper towels, he patted the drops of running water as well as he could and checked out the sores on his hands. It was

hard work, but the good thing about it was, he didn’t have to think. All he had to do was dig, no thinking, no worrying about being shot. For some reason, it felt nice to do it. And the hundred bucks in his pocket was a start. He slung his dirty t-shirt around his neck and left the restroom, standing out front of the building, waiting for Serena. A young man in his late teens approached him, as he too waited. “You’re Rod, yes?” Rod noticed the young man examine the tattoos he had across his shoulders and upper chest. “Who are you?” “Miguel. Pedro tells me you’re new. How do you like it?” “It’s a job.” “Why does a man like you need this work?” Rod glanced around to see if anyone else was listening. “I like it.” Miguel laughed at what he perceived as a joke. After Miguel also took a quick inspection of the area, he whispered in Spanish, “Pedro said you like cock.” The way Miguel had said it, Rod didn’t take offense. He knew what was coming next. “You and me?” Miguel tilted his head seductively. “I’m flattered. But no thanks, Miguel.” Rod spotted the silver Camry slowing down as it neared. “Maybe next time?” Miguel grinned. Rod didn’t smile in return. He opened the passenger’s door and spread his shirt on the back of the seat before he sat down. Immediately he opened the window. “I know, I stink.” “Not that bad.” Serena pulled into the traffic lane. “How horrible was it?” “I can stand it.” “That still doesn’t sound good.” After a moment of silence, Serena asked, “How was coffee with Dr. Russell?” “I wish I had met him before this whole mess. I feel as though I’m a charity case. And I don’t like it. I know he’s not keen on having someone to worry about.” “How do you know that? He’s a doctor. It’s what he does for a living.”

“Exactly.” Serena pulled up to the hospital entrance. “Pick me up. Don’t forget.” “I’m sorry, Serena. I thought Bob was going to give me a truck today, but I think it may take a couple days.” “I figured that when you called for a ride.” She adjusted the seat backwards so Rod could drive comfortably. “I’d try hitting mom and dad up for a loan now that you’re working.” “I’ll think about it. Thanks, sis.” Rod climbed out and walked to her side of the car. “See you after your shift.” “See ya. Get some rest.” He waited until Serena was inside the hospital to drive off. He was trying not to be angry and resentful, but needing help from his parents at thirty-six, and feeling like a burden on any man that ended up stuck with him, was getting him mad.

Chapter 6 “He’s the one from the FBI. Undercover.” “He’ll be dead in a week in there.” “Top it off, he’s queer.” “Queer and FBI? I give him a day.” “Hey…Hot Rod. Suck my cock and I’ll make sure you don’t get murdered.” “Get away from me. Get away from me!” Rod bolted upright in the bed and looked around, sweat drenched him. He had been asleep for nearly six hours and had the alarm set for five am so he could pick up Serena at the end of her shift. Dim streetlight filtered in from the curtained window. A dog barked but soon the echo died away. Rod staggered off the bed to the bathroom. Holding the sink to steady himself as he took a piss, he stared at his dick in his hand and couldn’t remember the last time he’d jacked off or came with a partner. Once he finished urinating he flushed the toilet and washed his hands and face, feeling ill. With his elbows on the sink basin, Rod tried to calm down. Nightmares were not new to him. He’d had them since his first days on the streets during his field training. The dream became clear. An inmate overheard two guards talking about him the day he was led to the dormitory he was to occupy for a decade. From the time the information had been leaked to the inmates he bunked with every night and dealt with every day, Rod was on a knife edge. He had luck and size on his side. He was big; six-three and over two hundred pounds of bulk-muscle. Weightlifting was his passion. He continued exercising constantly inside. But even being a big man wasn’t enough to keep him alive. He needed allies. When the guards turned their backs on him, perceiving him as a traitor who had killed one of their own, Rod relied on the most powerful dogs in the pound. It didn’t take long to figure out who owned the place. Like a pack of feral wolves the gang hierarchy was discernable to him. After living on the inside of a

drug ring for years, Rod knew who gave orders and who took them. On day two of his incarceration he boldly faced one of the big guns in prison dorm. It was Rod’s turn to piss on the fire hydrant. Either he’d be accepted or attacked. Canines had their own way of dealing with outsiders and were territorial to the extreme. It was no different in the prison as it was on the streets of LA. You cross a line? You get done in. “I need to talk to you.” Rod met gazes briefly with the lightweights surrounding the top man—Trickster’s subordinates—snarling at them. “Yeah.” Trickster nodded. “You do.” He told his crowd of sycophants to get lost. Rod walked to the corner of a wall to talk privately, away from the guards’ prying ears. “What’s it gonna take?” “What you got?” Trickster grinned. “One thing. Take it or not.” Rod ran his hand down his own chest and into his waistband. Trickster gave Rod a good once over. “I’m gonna call you ‘Hot Rod’.” “And I’m gonna call you ‘Trick’.” Rod gave Trickster a seductive sneer though he wanted to tell him to fuck off. They brushed fists in agreement. “This is gonna work out fine. Just fine.” Rod nodded. It had better. He took a pair of shorts out of a drawer and put them on, heading to the kitchen. Once a pot of coffee was dripping, Rod sat at the kitchen table. His constant state of exhaustion was from lack of sleep and stress. He needed to see a doctor and get something to help him sleep. He couldn’t keep going this way. Dr. Russell. Rod scrubbed at his eyes and imagined the handsome man. A vision of Foley in army fatigues made his cock throb. The coffee pot sputtered as it dropped the last few steaming spatters into the filter. He stood up, poured a cup and resumed his position at the table. For the next few hours he sat, staring into space until he had to go pick Serena up from work. ~

Foley removed a pair of rubber gloves and tossed them into the trash as he left a patient’s room. “He’s in there.” “Hmm?” Foley woke out of his daydream to see Serena, gesturing to the lounge. “Rod. He’s in there. Go.” She nudged Foley towards the room. As Serena scurried off in the opposite direction, Foley hesitated. He’d spent some time thinking about Rod, wondering if this was worth pursuing. Sexually, yes. But emotionally? Intellectually? Foley was battling with his own demons and had imagined either a no-strings-attached sexual encounter or a man who was more stable than he was to anchor him down. Not someone who was out of prison for a crime he didn’t commit. Or at least that was Rod’s story. Foley knew better than that. There were always two sides to every tale. Dating a hunky FBI agent would have been acceptable. Not an ex-agent with manslaughter on his rap sheet. Just as he made the decision to not go into the lounge, Rod stepped out into the corridor. They met eyes. Foley’s body reacted before his mind caught up. Instantly aroused, he smiled at the handsome man. “Hey, sailor. Come here often?” Was this their private joke now? Rod chuckled. “Twice daily. That sounds an awful lot like a prescription.” Foley walked nearer, inspecting Rod’s details as he did. There was no question Rod Reynolds was attractive. And though Foley didn’t rely on gut instincts, his told him Rod was a good man, despite his past. “How was the day job?” Rod held out his hands. “Rough.” Foley cupped Rod’s hands from underneath to take a closer look. “You should have worn gloves.” “I did.” Making contact with Rod suddenly changed Foley’s mind. Screw the emotional baggage. Imagine this man in your bed. What a fuck that would be. Christ, I’d give my eye teeth to make love to you.

“Do you want me to take care of them for you?” Foley used his thumbs to caress Rod’s skin. The moment Rod’s dark bedroom eyes made a connection with his, Foley was hard in his slacks. “Yes.” Rod licked his lips, but it wasn’t in a sexual way, just casually. It still distracted Foley to the point of insanity. Trying to get his brain to function when all the blood in his body had gone to his pants, Foley kept hold of one of Rod’s hands and led him to a vacant examination room, closing the door behind him. “Have a seat.” Rod turned to look behind him and propped himself up on the paper-covered table. Foley opened a few drawers trying to keep his focus. “Are you working today?” “Yes.” Rod chuckled as if that was a silly question. “Then I don’t think these will last long.” Foley used an antibiotic wipe on the open blisters, cleaning them before he covered them. “I suppose it’s worth a try.” “Am I?” Foley stopped what he was doing and stared at Rod. “What do you think?” “I think I’m too fucked up for anything. And the idea of being a burden on you kills me.” Foley’s chest tightened at Rod’s obvious pain. He dropped the medical wipe and grabbed Rod with both hands on his face, drawing him to his mouth. At first Foley felt Rod tense up, recoil, but when their lips met it was pure heat. Closing his eyes, Foley opened his mouth, hoping to be allowed into Rod’s. When Rod released his tight jaw, Foley gently touched the tip of Rod’s tongue with his own. Rod’s whimpering moan sent chills all over Foley’s body. As if set free from a leash, Rod dug his hands behind Foley’s head and sucked at his mouth and tongue with wild abandon. Foley pressed his legs against Rod’s and Rod opened his knees and forced Foley between them. The second they met groins, both men groaned a deep mournful sound. Foley realized they were echoing each other’s yearning and it lit the fire in him to an inferno. The grinding they

were doing, rigid cock to cock, was making Foley forget where and who he was. After a twelve hour shift, he was already feeling lightheaded. This kissing bout was nothing short of surreal. Voices outside the door, the noises of a busy hospital finally made it through Foley’s dulled senses. He slowed the kissing from an all out devouring carnal feast to slow dancing. “Holy shit.” Rod caught his breath, holding the nape of Foley’s neck in one hand and his cheek in the other. Foley didn’t want to stop. With Rod being receptive to his touch, he ran his finger down Rod’s neck to his chest, needing to feel the curves of his pectoral muscles in his palms. He drew the material of Rod’s t-shirt aside and spotted ink. His cock throbbed in his trousers. Foley went for a taste, running his tongue over the swirling pattern of the tattoo that was visible. Another deep rumble of pleasure vibrated Rod’s chest. Foley stood straight, calming himself down forcibly. He straightened Rod’s shirt and made an effort to slow his huffing breath. “Where were we?” Rod’s gulp was audible. “Jesus. I swear, Foley, I didn’t think I had it in me anymore.” Trying to regain his professional bearing, Foley inspected Rod’s raw palms. “You have it in you, Rod. I only wish you had me in you.” Rod laughed softly. “You want me to put something on these blisters?” Foley felt absurd asking Rod about minor sores when all he wanted to do was screw the hell out of him. “No, what’s the point? The minute I pick up a shovel they’ll peel off.” “True.” Foley forced himself to meet Rod’s gaze. “Just try and keep them clean. We don’t want them to get infected.” A silence grew between them. Foley knew Rod had to go to work and Serena needed to go home, as did he, and get sleep. But he didn’t want to stop touching Rod. “Saturday suddenly feels like a long time to wait.” Foley tried to make it sound like a joke, but it wasn’t. “Believe me. It’s not.” Rod smiled to soften the reply and cupped Foley’s cheek. “You are amazing.”

A spark of heat rushed through Foley’s body. Foley was about to admit he had his doubts but Rod beat him to it. “I won’t be a burden on you. Never.” Foley felt his cheeks flush in embarrassment for thinking Rod would be in the first place. “I thought a lot about you in the last twenty-four hours.” “And?” Rod appeared apprehensive. “I’m afraid you have the benefit of my doubt. There is no way a man like you did anything to deserve time in prison.” “And you know that?” Rod grinned. “In twenty-four hours?” “Am I wrong?” “I hope not.” Foley pecked Rod’s lips and helped him off the exam table. “I have a feeling Serena is dead on her feet.” “Does she date at all, Foley?” Rod asked before they left the room. “I don’t know. I don’t get involved socially with the staff. And I’m new to this hospital. Why do you ask?” “Just wish she’d find a nice guy.” “If she’s not dating, it’s because of the late shift and the brain drain.” Foley held back before opening the door. “It’s tough on a social life.” “I just thought by thirty-four she’d be married with two kids.” “Maybe that’s not where she is in life. Why don’t you talk to her about it?” “I suck at talking.” “I will change that.” Foley shook his finger at Rod. “You already have.” ~ Rod noticed Serena waiting near the lounge. When she spotted him and Foley exiting a room together her puzzled expression changed to a wry one. “No rush, boys.” “Funny, Nurse Reynolds.” Foley winked at Rod. “Catch ya later.” “Bye.” Rod smiled at him as he left. “Well?” Serena asked as they exited the hospital through the front lobby. “Well?” Rod mimicked, opening the door for her. “You guys are really cute together.”

“When are you going to bring home a nice guy, sis?” Rod removed the car keys from his pocket and handed them to Serena. “Probably never. I don’t want to date at work, and sleeping all day isn’t ideal for meeting Mr. Right.” “You okay to drop me off at work?” he asked before he let her get behind the wheel. “You do realize for the last ten years I’ve been driving myself to and from work.” He nodded, sitting in the passenger’s seat as she plopped down heavily and ratcheted the seat forward so she could reach the pedals. “Did you get any rest?” “I did. I slept enough.” Rod stared at his rough hands, thinking about Foley’s kiss. “I can’t wait to shut my eyes. I’m wiped out.” Serena drove downtown towards the day labor office. “I need to buy a car. I hate having you chauffeur me when you’re exhausted.” “Don’t worry. I didn’t say it to lay a guilt trip on you.” When she pulled up to the front of the building she said, “Isn’t it early?” “I’ll grab a cup of coffee at the corner shop.” “You sure?” Rod turned inside the car to face her. “I’m not going to have you go home only to drive me here an hour later. Don’t worry about it.” He opened the door. “Rod, don’t baby me. I’m a big girl.” “Go home and get some sleep.” He closed the door and waved at her, watching her drive away. With his hands deep in his pockets he walked to the café, feeling a trace of Foley’s taste on his lips.

Chapter 7 After Rod killed some time taking a walk around the area, he headed back to the day labor office. Bob was just pulling into the parking lot so Rod headed behind the building to meet him. As the older man climbed stiffly out of his pickup truck he asked Rod, “What are you doing here so early?” “I got a lift from my sister. She works the late shift at Good Sam and I didn’t want her to go back out again after she drove home.” “You still have some work getting back on your feet, don’t you?” Bob unlocked the rear door of the office and used a code in the alarm box to clear it. Rod entered behind him as Bob turned on overhead lights. “Yeah. What can you do? The legal fees drained everything I had.” “Blood-suckers.” Bob moved behind the desk to boot up the computers and unlock his office door. “Start a pot of coffee, will ya?” “Sure.” Rod looked around the area and opened a cabinet under the coffee maker. He filled the carafe with water from the bathroom sink and unsealed a bag of economy grounds, dumping it into the filter. Instantly the scent of brewed coffee filled the waiting area. “You wanna cup?” Rod shouted to the back room. “Black!” Once there was enough coffee to fill a cardboard cup, Rod did and brought it to Bob. “Here ya go, boss.” He set the steaming brew on a clear spot on Bob’s desk. After Bob fussed with paperwork and his personal computer he flopped onto his threadbare swivel chair and blew on the coffee before he sipped it. “What are we going to do to get you a better job?” Rod sat in the plastic seat across from him. “Don’t make a project out of me.” “Can’t help it. I kept thinking about what those scumbags did to you.” “Look, I shot, he died. I did time.”

“Fucking bastards.” Bob shook his head. “I’m going to ask around. I know some of the foremen on the bigger jobs.” “Don’t go out of your way.” Rod felt odd. Suddenly he was everyone’s wounded puppy and it wasn’t a role he was comfortable with. “Look. Kid.” Bob set the cup down and leaned over the desk. “You don’t belong with this crowd. I’m telling ya, rap sheet and all. You gotta get out of here. You can’t do day jobs for the rest of your life. You need to get back on track, get your retirement investments…you know.” Bob rocked in the chair. “You ever think of civilly suing the bureau for discrimination?” Rod jolted in his seat. “Jesus. One day on the job and everyone knows I’m gay?” “Nothin’s a secret around here. Everyone knows everyone’s business.” Bob picked up his cup to drink as he rocked in the chair leisurely. “How could I sue the bureau?” Rod tried to be amused, not angry. “I’m not a moron. You don’t think I can put two and two together? I was an investigator in uniform for eighteen years.” He drank more coffee then said, “You didn’t even talk to your attorney about that, did you?” “He wanted me to take the plea. He was afraid I’d be convicted of second degree murder.” “What?” Bob made a face of disgust. He leaned on the desk. “Where did you find this homo-hating defense attorney?” “I didn’t enquire as to his opinion on gay men at the time.” Rod started to think he was too shell-shocked after the incident to make a good decision. “Let me see if I got it right.” Bob finished the coffee and crushed the cup in his fist. “Were you out of the closet at work?” “Not officially.” “The guys on your team know?” “There were rumors.” Rod began to sweat as the conversation brought the scene in the alley back in perfect clarity. “Tell me,” Bob sneered as he said, “There was one bastard on your ass about it. Am I right? A supervisor?” A chill washed over Rod’s skin. “Have you been checking my background?”

“No. I had the same experience. A lieutenant. The sucker had it out for me. Other cops got done for DUI, nothing happened. Me? Out. Took everything from me. So, there’s always one fucker.” “Yes. SAC Goush. He hated me on sight.” “Right.” Bob rocked in the chair, his fingers laced over his stomach while he thought before he spoke. “What happened? Huh? How did he get you to shoot him? Did he call you a cocksucker?” Rod knew he was pale because he felt clammy and lightheaded. “Yeah. And worse.” “And you shot him?” “He shot at me first. I told you when you first asked me about my record.” “Son of a bitch.” Bob slammed his palm against the desk. “And your defense attorney let you rot in jail?” “No one believed me.” Rod felt his throat close up from his agony. “He was dead and there were no witnesses; only three other agents and a few civilians who heard shots. That’s it. One dead SAC and one murder weapon. Mine.” Bob rubbed his hand over his face and balding forehead. “Son of a bitch.” Rod stood up, turning his back. “I can’t deal with this. I can’t. I’m sorry, Bob.” “You’re sorry?” Rod heard Bob’s chair scrape the floor. When a hand touched his shoulder, Rod nearly jumped out of his skin. He spun around and Bob’s eyes were wide as he held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Calm down, man.” Rod did everything he could to stop panting for air and running with perspiration. “Have a seat.” Bob turned the plastic chair towards Rod. Rod heard talking. The secretaries had arrived and were chatting outside the door. Reluctantly he sat back down. “I know a lawyer guy.” Bob propped himself up on the corner of his desk. “He does good work.” “No.” Rod shook his head. “I’m askin’ you to think about it.” “No one will back me. Do you get it?” Rod ground his jaw.

“Civil cases have less of a burden of proof. It’s not beyond a reasonable doubt, it’s—” “You’re not seriously telling me about law, are you? You realize I’m aware.” “Sorry. Old cop habit.” Bob sat down on his chair and it heaved and squeaked under him. A light knock sounded. Ina asked through the door, “You need coffee, Bob?” “I’m good, Ina.” Bob flipped through his rolodex and scribbled on a scrap paper. He handed it to Rod. “He’s good.” “I’m broke.” Rod took it and read it. “Tell him what happened. He’ll do it pro-bono.” “Why would he do that for me?” “Because he’s a gay activist as well as a damn good lawyer. If he hears what happened, he’ll get you compensation dough. He’ll make the bureau pay for those ten years you lost, for your pension, your IRA’s, your life.” Rod read the scrap of paper. ‘Jack Larsen’ was written on it with a phone number. Rod placed it into his wallet. “I have to tell you, Bob. It’ll take a whole lot to get me back into a courtroom.” “I hear ya. I do. I did a couple nights in county’s lock-up. Nothing that compared with what you did, but I feel fucking furious when I think about it.” Bob held up his index finger. “One fucker. That was all it took to screw up my career. How many did it take for you?” Rod thought hard. “More than one. No one in my team backed me.” “Could they? Did they know what Goush was doing to you?” Feeling his snarl as he spoke, Rod replied, “No.” Bob repeated, “One guy,” wagging his finger as he said it. “He’s dead, but make em pay.” Rod felt drained as he sank in the chair. Bob walked around his desk and opened the office door. “Come on. Let’s get you work and make you some money.” With an effort, Rod stood, following Bob out of the office. ~ At six a.m. Friday morning, Foley washed his hands at the sink and stared at his red eyes in the mirror. Too much caffeine

had given him a headache. He thought he’d be used to the long shifts by now, but he knew a human body could only take so much abuse before it began showing signs of wear and tear. He left the restroom and raised his head to the corridor. At the sight at the end of the hall, all his reserved energy returned and he felt adrenaline washing through his veins. He made a direct line towards that seductive smile. “Hey, sailor.” “Do you ever get to go home?” Rod smiled. “Now. I’m going now.” Foley glanced around and noticed Serena’s sly grin as she passed. “Nurse Reynolds.” “Dr. Russell.” She stopped and gave him a silly expression. “Can I steal your brother away for a while?” Foley checked Rod’s reaction and found it favorable. “Yes, Doctor.” Serena held up her hand to Rod. “Keys, please?” He dropped them into her hand. “Have fun.” She glanced over her shoulder as she left, winking at them. “Let me get out of here before someone needs something.” Foley gestured to the exit. “You got two hours?” “Nearly. Why?” “Up for it?” “It?” Rod grinned as they hustled out of the hospital. “It? Something? Anything?” Foley removed his key fob and pointed it at the Audi to unlock it. “Sure.” Foley didn’t waste any time getting them onto the freeway headed to Glendale. “Still got blisters?” Rod looked at his hands. “I think it’ll take a while before they heal.” Foley took Rod’s left hand and brought it to his crotch. “Does this make it feel any better?” Rod gave Foley’s package a squeeze. “Sure does.” With all his focus on Rod’s touch on his stiff dick, Foley couldn’t remember the drive to his home if he tried. Between the exhaustion and sexual demand, he was distracted to a fault. Parked in the garage, opening doors as he went, Foley threw his keys onto a side table and spun around, diving on Rod to get at his mouth.

“Whoa!” Rod stumbled back at the advance. “Sorry. I can’t remember the last man who got me this fucking hot.” Foley backed up. “You need me to slow down, don’t you?” “I don’t know what the hell I need.” Rod scanned the interior of the two story residence. “I’d offer you a drink but I know you have to work. Damn, when is Saturday coming?” “Tomorrow.” Rod smiled. “Oh. Where did I lose track?” Foley closed the gap between them and held a tentative hand over the muscles of Rod’s chest. “May I?” Rod backed up and hoisted his t-shirt over his head, tossing it on the wooden floor. “Wow.” Foley’d had no idea what to expect. The peek at the tattoo hadn’t given him any inkling as to the amount of artwork over Rod’s shoulders and chest. “I don’t know if anyone has told you this before, Rod. But…Jesus, man.” Foley whistled in admiration. “What a fucking bod.” Rod said nothing, standing perfectly still. “Why aren’t we in the bedroom?” Foley touched Rod’s right nipple. He felt Rod shiver and checked his expression. “Am I rushing you?” “No.” The pain of that single word surprised Foley. “How about we go sit in the living room?” Though Rod appeared about to insist they go to the bedroom, he bit his lip and followed Foley to the sofa, sitting with him. Foley rested his chin in his palm and his elbow on the sofa back. “Why do I have a feeling shit happened to you in prison that is coloring your sexual contact now. Is that a no-brainer, Rod?” Rod hung his head. Obviously struggling. “Babe. It’s okay.” “You don’t need this. You don’t need this shit.” “What shit?” Foley caressed Rod’s jaw. ~ Rod battled the demons. As wicked images tried to intrude on his pleasure, all Rod wanted was to make love to Foley. He wanted to come. He needed to come. The blowjob in the go-go

club had him thinking he couldn’t do it. Why couldn’t he come when that man sucked his cock? Tenderly, Rod met Foley’s lips. As they kissed Rod felt his strength renew. Kissing made a difference to Rod. He never kissed anyone in prison and didn’t want to kiss the stranger in the club. Foley seemed to be allowing Rod to set the tempo. Rod knew they had only an hour or so now, but tomorrow? All day? To do what? Dinner and a movie? He didn’t know what a ‘date’ with the doctor would consist of, but he assumed it would be more relaxed. Foley parted from their kiss. “You okay, babe?” “Yes.” “Can I get to first base?” Foley smiled sweetly. Rod led Foley’s hand back to his chest. “Do anything you want.” “There’s no rush, Rod. I’m not going anywhere.” The relief Rod felt to have the pressure off was enormous. And strangely exciting. Rod held Foley’s wrist and ran it down his six pack abs to his crotch. When his cock throbbed anxiously at Foley’s touch, Rod began craving sex. A decade of exclusively giving blowjobs for protection, finally Rod wanted it from someone. He wanted Foley. Between breathless kisses, Foley pinched Rod’s denimcovered cock in his fingers. “I’m going to ask you something. Don’t get angry.” “What?” Rod pressed his cheek against Foley’s closing his eyes, inhaling him. “Have you been tested?” “Yes. They tested everyone inside.” Rod licked the sweat off of Foley’s cheek. “But sex wasn’t permitted in jail. No one ever fucked me. What about you?” “I’m negative. I get tested annually just for peace of mind.” “Do you want to get in your bed?” “I do. But I don’t want to pressure you.” A tremor of performance anxiety hit Rod. “I have to know if I still can.”

“Is that all this is?” Foley leaned back and Rod met with his baby blue eyes. “I don’t know what the hell this is.” Foley caressed Rod’s jaw tenderly, showing compassion. “Ten years of hell…” he swallowed hard on his next line, “Ten years of sucking the same guy’s cock as currency to help prevent being murdered.” “Did you leave a lover behind?” “No. I never had a lover. I performed acts. That’s what I did. I traded sucking cock to stay alive.” Rod choked up on his emotions. Foley drew Rod into his arms and held him tight. “I can’t believe I’m telling you this shit.” Rod swiped at his eyes in anger. “You don’t need to know the gory details. And you don’t need a fucking basket case to play nurse to. Serena is already doing that.” “Shut up, will ya?” Foley tightened his hold, his fingers digging into Rod’s arms. “I’m not pressuring you.” Rod pushed away from Foley’s grip and felt his eye burn with tears. “I don’t even know if I can come anymore. I didn’t touch myself in there. I was sickened by the bullshit.” Foley didn’t reply, but looked intense. I’m an ass. Rod stood, searching for his shirt. “You can do better than me. Believe me. I can’t deal with this kind of relationship.” “You’ve just been released. Take a breath and calm down. It takes years to recover from the kind of ordeal you’ve been through.” Foley stood near. “Some men never do. It’s the same in war, Rod. Believe me.” War. Rod’s fury dissipated like fine mist. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t even thinking about what you’ve been through.” “I understand.” Rod stared down at Foley as he entered his personal aura. The sexual heat between them was pure fire. He could see Foley was reluctant to make contact. The crystal blue color of Foley’s eyes sent a shiver down Rod’s back. While they connected stares, Foley cupped his right hand around Rod’s domed pectoral muscle. He squeezed his skin so the nipple protruded through his

fingers, then as Foley gazed into Rod’s eyes, he licked it with the tip of his tongue. The surge to Rod’s groin was explosive. Foley sucked and nibbled his hard tip, using playful licks and tugging it between his teeth. Tender kisses feathered like snowdrops down Rod’s middle. Foley knelt before him, pressing his mouth against the zipper flap of Rod’s jeans. Rod’s cock was pulsating, thickening next to his thigh. A sensation woke Rod out of his swoon. Foley opened his button and zipper hesitantly, waiting to be told to stop. Rod’s mouth went dry and his breathing was near hyperventilation. His stiff dick was released from its hiding place and exposed. Foley stroked it as he admired it, lowering it to his lips. Only the second time in more than a decade, Rod’s cock was inside a hot sucking hole. The last time he failed. He couldn’t fail this time. This was different. Foley wasn’t a nameless stranger. He was a man Rod admired, and liked. A lot. To keep upright, Rod gripped Foley’s shoulders as his knees buckled. Foley held the base of Rod’s cock, sucking to the tip then as deeply as he could manage. His expression was filled with pleasure and raw sexuality. The sensations rising beyond Rod’s control, he suddenly had no doubt he could come. Because he was about to. “Oh my God,” Rod whispered softly, more to himself because he never realized it would be so easy. Easy to feel pleasure with a man you actually wanted. Maybe it was because Foley held no power over Rod. Only the power of passion. And Rod was attracted to Foley to the extreme. As if the deep draws of Foley’s mouth and the lapping of his tongue weren’t enough, Foley lowered Rod’s clothing to be able to touch his balls. The compassion expressed by the caress was overwhelming Rod. “I…I’m…” Foley seemed to know. He increased the speed and jerked his hand along with his mouth, thrusting in as much of Rod’s cock as he could take and massaging his sack.

It began at Rod’s core and traveled up. His nuts tightened and he held onto Foley so he wouldn’t fall backwards. When the cum began its journey into Foley’s mouth, Rod threw back his head and gasped in pleasure. The climax made him feel dizzy as it raced through every nerve ending he possessed. Foley was vocalizing his delight as he swallowed. Rod had no clue of how much spunk he contained after a decade of holding back, but Foley took it all. “God!” Rod’s legs trembled as he recovered, needing to sit before he fell down. Foley whimpered and ran Rod’s dick against his face and lips, drying it as he did, kissing and fondling him. “I have to sit.” Rod began reaching for the floor before he toppled over. Foley backed him up to the staircase, helping him to the first few steps. Rod caught his breath, staring at his dick as it stood exposed from his clothing still red and thickly engorged. Foley caressed Rod’s dewy forehead, running his hand through his hair. “I don’t think you have to worry anymore.” Catching Foley’s eyes, Rod choked, then laughed. “Jesus.” Foley knelt to be eye level with him, draping his arms over Rod’s shoulders. “You are one sexy motherfucker, Mr. Reynolds.” “I’m still speechless.” Rod felt his heart rattling under his ribs. “Why don’t I get you a glass of water?” Rod nodded, trying to get his body under control. As Foley walked away, he glanced back and smiled. Rod looked at his dick as it slowly lost its erection. “Thank fuck.” He tucked it back into his briefs and used his forearm to wipe the sweat from his brow. “One less thing to worry about.” He checked the time. “Here. Drink this.” “Thanks.” Rod guzzled the water thirstily. “Do you have to go?” “I have a few minutes.” “Come back to the living room.” Foley took the empty glass, setting it aside, and led Rod to the sofa. They collapsed on it and

stared at each other. Foley toyed with Rod’s fingers as he said, “I like you.” “I like you too.” Rod felt like mush. A sloppy bag of puppy love mush. “I know we both have challenges to face.” Rod nodded. “I’m not saying we have to jump into anything.” “Okay.” “But I don’t want to run away from this either. Not until we give it a shot.” “Me too.” “Right.” Foley relaxed against the back of the sofa. “Tomorrow.” “Tomorrow.” “I just need a few hours of sleep after shift, then…” “Just call me and I’ll get Serena to drop me off.” “How about I’ll pick you up instead?” Rod needed a car. Badly. “Okay.” Mental note, remind Bob about the truck. “Let me get you to work.” Trying to find his strength, Rod stood up with Foley, and Foley zipped Rod’s fly for him. “Thanks.” “My pleasure. Believe me.” Seeing the gleam in Foley’s eye, Rod did believe him. They didn’t chat on the ride into town. Rod held Foley’s hand, thinking about all the things he needed to do before he felt confident in beginning a ‘relationship’. But for the first time in a long time, he came when he got his cock sucked. No threats held over his head. Nothing sinister. Just pure fun and attraction. And that felt pretty darn good. They parked near the labor office. A small group of men were smoking cigarettes outside. Rod recognized a few of his coworkers. He spun back to Foley. “I’ll be looking forward to your call tomorrow.” “Me too.” “Bye.” Rod gave Foley’s hand a quick squeeze and climbed out of the car. He watched the Audi vanish down the street and turned to see the men staring at him intensely.

He approached them, having to pass the group to go inside the building. Miguel was giving him a smirking grin. Rod ignored it and entered the office to see where he was assigned for the day of labor. Never again would he be harassed at work and deal with it alone. The trick was in knowledge. He understood that now. Letting supervisors know, taping conversations. All those things ran through his head while he lay on his cot in a dormitory of convicts. If he had a tape of Goush mocking him…if he had reported the abuse to his supervisors, street partners, someone. If he hadn’t taken it on the chin and pretended it didn’t happen, he never would have gone to jail. He fell right into the trap. Lesson learned. And motherfucker, what a lesson it was.

Chapter 8 The April sun was already too hot to be exposed in a shade deprived construction site. Wearing a yellow hardhat, shirtless, Rod was dripping with perspiration while he stood by a backhoe which was digging out a trench. Removing his canvas glove, he dabbed at a bead of sweat running towards his eye. The driver of the digger signaled for Rod and Miguel to sink their shovels into the dirt again. Rod exposed the boulders, his shovel hitting them with a loud metallic clang. “Right here!” Rod pointed to it. The mini-digger driver nodded and moved the hydraulic machine to gather up the enormous rock to take to a dump truck. Rod used his shoulder, his forearm, everything to wipe the sweat off his eyes. He tossed dry clay-soil onto a pile as Miguel tried to keep up beside him. A loud signal blast sounded. Rod heaved his shovel into the ground where it protruded erect and removed his gloves, walking to an area near a snack truck. The noise of jogging feet came up behind him. As he looked over his shoulder, he caught Miguel’s smile. In Spanish, Miguel said, “You look good enough to eat.” Though his gut reaction was not a nice one, Rod knew little Miguel was not nasty SAC Goush. Not by any stretch. Miguel was gay. Goush was either deeply entrenched in the closet, or as homophobic as a fifty-something year old dipshit could get. Ignoring Miguel, Rod stood at the counter of the refreshment truck. “I’ll have a bottle of water and a banana.” Rod handed cash to the man and received his snacks, walking to a makeshift bench, which consisted of wooden planks and concrete slabs. He drank half the water down first before he peeled back the skin on the banana. Miguel tilted his head to the open spot as if asking permission. “Sit down, Lil’ M.” Rod scooted over. “Was that dude in the Audi your man?” Miguel drank from a can of pop. “Why?” Rod stuffed the rest of the banana in his mouth and folded the skin in half, setting it on the ground near his work boot.

“He’s lucky to have a hunk like you.” Miguel’s focus shifted to Rod’s chest. “How old are you?” Rod finished his water and set the empty plastic bottle on top of the banana skin. “Nineteen. You like young men?” Miguel flashed his smile. “Let me give you a piece of advice.” Miguel leaned closer. “Don’t mix business with pleasure. Entiende?” Rod stood, taking his bottle and peel to the trash. He noticed the other men in the area staring at him. For all Rod knew, Miguel was out about his sexuality. He had no idea who knew what and the fact that he’d been on the job only three days, and every few days he’d most likely go to a different site, meant he never would be able to keep up with the gossip mongers. It didn’t matter. He wanted this issue on paper in case someone threatened to beat him up. He headed to the portable trailer searching for the foreman and used his knuckles on the door. “Come in.” Rod opened it and took off his hat as he entered. “Sir?” “What is it?” A gruff gray-haired man behind the desk asked. “Are you the project manager or the foreman?” “Foreman.” “I want it on record that I’m gay and I’m already getting sneers out there.” “What’s your name?” “Rod Reynolds.” “Who sent you here?” The man jotted on a paper. “Bob Smith from Day-Jobs.” “Got it noted.” “Thanks. Your name, sir?” “Jacobs.” Rod nodded and left, putting his hat back on and walking to the pit he and Miguel were digging. No way. Never making that mistake again. By five-thirty, Rod had driven Miguel and Pedro back to the labor office. They stood in line as they handed in their

paperwork for cash. Rod tugged at a flap of skin on his palm as his blisters formed calluses. “Rod.” He looked up to see Bob. “Friday night. Let me buy you a beer.” “Can you give me a lift home?” “Sure.” “Ina,” Rod asked, “Can I use the phone?” “Sure. Here you go.” Rod called Serena. “You need me to come get you?” she asked. “No. The boss is going to take me home after a beer.” “What about the car?” “Take it. I have plans with…” Rod noticed several people eavesdropping. “Uh…someone in the morning. You take it tonight.” “Okay, Rod. See ya.” “See ya.” He handed Ina back the phone. “Thanks.” “No problem.” She reached for his paperwork and he gave it to her. He said to Bob, “You realize I stink.” “Shower.” Bob pointed to the bathroom. “I don’t have a change of clothing or a towel.” Ina handed Rod his pay for the day. He wedged it into his wallet and noticed Bob coming back out of his office with a bath towel. Bob tossed Rod the towel. “Turn your underwear inside out. Trick I learned in the army.” Laughing as he headed to the restroom, Rod caught Miguel trying to get his attention before he left. “Have a nice weekend,” Miguel said sweetly in Spanish. Rod waved. “You too, Lil’ M.” It felt good to shower, but shitty to put on his grungy clothing. He hadn’t worn his shirt all day, but his jeans were so dusty when he whacked at his thighs a cloud puffed out. With the towel over his shoulder, Rod emerged from the restroom and asked Ina, “The boss in his office?” “Yeah. Go in.”

Rod pushed through the low swinging counter door, knocking first before opening the office. “What do you want me to do with your towel?” “Toss it there.” Bob pointed to a chair. “I need beer.” “Sounds good.” Rod knew it would be his first sip of alcohol in a long time. He also recalled Bob’s tales of DUI arrests. They said goodbye to the two women behind the counter and left through the back door to the parking lot. Bob climbed into the cab of a newer Ford F10 pickup while Rod sat on the passenger’s side of the seat. “There’s a nice quiet corner bar down the block. I’m a regular there.” Rod had no doubt. “Okay.” With Rush Limbaugh’s aggressive opinions on the radio, Bob stayed quiet as he shifted gears and used a heavy foot on both the gas and brake pedals. Within five minutes they parked on the side of The Buffalo Bar. Graffiti was tagged all over the rendered off white plane of the building. It appeared to Rod as if years of painting over it had not succeeded in preventing it. Several pickup trucks and older model American sedans filled the small lot. It certainly wouldn’t be the type of spot to take a gay date, and Rod assumed the opposite was most likely true. Bob was an enigma with his liberal attitude about sexuality and his staunch Republican radio choice. It was excessively dim in the interior and very small. On the left side of the room was the bar, with a row of round swivel stools occupied by slouching old men with shot glasses at their elbows. A pool table and dart board were located in the back by the restrooms, and mounted deer trophies and several posters for gun rights and NRA clubs were displayed proudly, along with an enormous American flag and ‘Support Our Troops’ signs. My, my, Rod said to himself as he followed Bob to a small square table where the older man hefted himself heavily on a wooden chair. “The late SAC Goush would have loved this place.” Rod made sure his back was to the wall and surveyed the occupants which consisted of men, all between fifty and eighty, and one female waitress, middle-aged, heavyset with blonde hair with

dark roots and a visible tattoo on the back of her neck. A man was behind the bar, seemingly nearing seventy, with an unlit cigar in his mouth, looking like a war vet or well worn bluecollar worker. “I just come here for the beer. They got good stuff on tap.” Bob got the waitress’ attention. “Mil!” “Hello, Bobby. You want a nice cold beer?” She leaned against Bob’s shoulder, practically sitting on his lap. He slung his arm around her playfully. “Yeah. Why don’t you get me and Big Rod here a couple of cold draft beers?” “You got it.” She winked and said, “Big Rod? I’ll bet,” as she headed to the counter to order their booze. Rod felt his face go hot and rubbed his coarse jaw. Hot Rod? Big Rod? Man, I should have changed my name a long time ago. “She’s harmless.” Rod focused on Bob’s smile. “Yeah. I know.” He leaned his elbows on the table. The surface had a thick patina from years of grease and sloshed beer. It felt oily to the touch. “Not exactly a wine bar off Hollywood Boulevard, is it?” “Not exactly.” Rod watched the waitress as she glanced back their way. “You sure you want to be seen with me in a place like this?” Bob leaned across the table to speak quietly. “You think you look gay?” Before he answered, Rod sat back as two sweating mugs were placed on coasters in front of them. “Here ya go, boys.” “Thanks, sweetheart.” Bob raised his glass up to toast her. She winked again and left to get another order. “Cheers.” Bob elevated his glass. “Cheers.” Rod took a sip. After a long hot day on the job, it tasted fantastic. “Oh, that’s nice.” “I told ya, the draft beer is great in here.” “Man, I missed that.” Rod shook his head as he licked his lips. He noticed Bob’s quiet contemplation. “What?” “I hadn’t thought about that. No booze in prison.” “Nope.” Rod took another deep gulp. “The convicts made some nasty piss out of apple juice, but I never tasted it.” “Bet you turned into a cheap drunk during ten years dry.”

“You’d win that bet.” Rod figured he’d be buzzed on half a beer. He guzzled the rest. “Damn!” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “So. This is what freedom tastes like?” “How long have you been on the outside?” Bob laughed. “What the hell were you waiting for?” “I have no fucking idea.” Rod raised the mug to tip the last drop on his tongue. “Hun!” Bob called out to the waitress. “Get our Big Rod here another one, will ya?” “Sure thing.” She signaled back. Rod rolled the cold mug on his forehead to cool off. He was boiling hot in the stuffy room. “You all right?” “Yeah.” Rod set the glass down and used his shirt to wipe off his face. “I’m just not used to anything anymore. It’s like I’m two and learning to walk.” Another frothy mug was placed before Rod. The waitress picked up his empty. “You just back from serving in the war, sugar?” Rod met Bob’s eye. They smiled. “Yeah.” Rod looked at her kind matronly expression. “Back from a long term.” “God Bless America.” She patted his shoulder. “And thank you, son, for serving. That beer’s on the house.” He read her name tag and saluted her with his full mug. “Thank you, Millie.” “Ain’t nuthin’, Big Rod.” Rod watched her walk away, then grinned at Bob. “I did serve.” “You did.” He mirrored Rod’s expression. “Both your government and the state.” “Amen.” Rod hoisted the mug to his lips and guzzled it down. ~ “I would appreciate if you can rotate my shift to days.” Foley stood with his cell phone pressed against his one ear and a finger in his other to be able to hear over the noise of the corridor. “I didn’t think it would matter at first, but the PTSD is making sleeping during the day rough.”

“Let me look into it, Dr. Russell. You had the choice when you finished your tour. I have to say I was surprised you chose nights.” “I just thought I’d like my days free and the extra incentive pay was great.” Foley didn’t think he and Rod working opposing schedules was going to work. With each of their history clouding the present, Foley thought what they had was bad enough. “I was trying to be considerate to the men and women with families. I see now it was a mistake.” “Just give me a day to work it out. Ex-military get priority. I think we can do this quickly.” “I have the weekend off, ironically.” Foley turned his back on a loud conversation two nurses were having as they passed. “So can you let me know late Sunday? I can be up and ready Monday morning.” “I’ll see what I can do. But most likely you can count on it.” “Thank you, sir.” Foley disconnected the call and stuffed the phone into his pocket. At first doing nights seemed like a good idea. The extra pay, the lack of a home life, it all made sense at the time. It didn’t now. He checked his watch, anxious for an end to the shift and to catch some sleep before he called Rod. During a slight lull in the volume of patients, Foley did a quick round to make sure everyone he had tended earlier was still doing well. He met up with Serena in one room as she checked the vital signs of a man who had surgery. “Nurse Reynolds.” “Dr. Russell.” She smiled and jotted her notes on the man’s chart. Foley waited for her to complete her task. The patient was asleep and the room was darkened but for a small light on the side of the bed. After Serena had hung the patient’s paperwork back at the foot, she shut off the light. Foley exited the room with Serena behind him. “You have a minute?” “Sure.” Serena nodded, checking her watch. Once inside the staff lounge, Foley poured each of them a cup of coffee. The television was on and only two people were in the room, sitting on the sofa taking a break while they watched it.

“You and Rod are close, aren’t you?” Foley sipped the remnants of an old pot of coffee, gone bitter. “I suppose. We were as kids, but when he took the job for the FBI he was gone all the time. We actually lost touch with him completely when he went undercover with the Violent Crimes Task Force and worked with the DEA.” Foley couldn’t believe the history Rod had. He had just scraped the surface of the depth of that man. “Did you visit him in prison?” “I did. I went every three months. He didn’t want me to see him in there, but there was no way I was going to pretend he didn’t exist for a decade, or more.” She tucked a loose strand of brown hair behind her ear as if fell from her clip. “You never lost your faith in him, did you?” Serena met Foley’s gaze and studied it. “Are you trying to find out if Rod could actually murder someone in cold blood?” Was he? Foley broke the stare and scanned the occupants of the room. “Never.” Serena sounded angry. “Listen to me, Foley. My brother has lost his trust in everyone and everything. He was shaken to the core by what happened to him. He was true-blue and dedicated to his job, just like you are.” “I don’t get how he could have lost that court case.” Foley lowered his voice to a whisper. “Why didn’t a jury believe him? I don’t understand that.” Tipping the unpalatable coffee into the sink, Serena began to leave. Foley touched her elbow, trying to stop her. “Serena, wait.” She spun around, appearing furious. “If you don’t believe in him one hundred percent, do Rod the favor and don’t get involved with him. It’ll kill him. He can’t take one more blow to his ego and his pride. I’m not kidding, Foley, he’s already hanging on by a thread.” Foley watched her leave the room and not look back. ~ One in the morning, Rod stumbled up the front walk, waving at Bob as he pulled away in the pickup. Rod couldn’t see the lock and circled it several times with his key. He finally pushed

it in the hole and turned it. As the door swung back he tripped and held onto the knob. On his knees inside Serena’s living room, Rod crawled until he was able to shut the door. It slammed and made the wall coverings shudder. He rested his head on his arm on the carpet and closed his eyes.

Chapter 9 Serena carried her purse under her arm and yawned. It was just after six and she envisioned her bed and the inside of her eyelids. When she turned the key she felt the door wasn’t locked and pushed it back anxiously. Seeing her brother lying on his face on the floor nearly made her scream. “Rod!” She knelt down, checking his vital signs. “Rod?” The whiff of beer made its way to her nose. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” She shook her head. “Rod. Wake up.” She jarred his shoulder. He moaned. “Rod! Get up!” She jerked his body harder until he opened his eyes. “Jesus. How much did you drink?” “Where am I?” He shielded his eyes from the sunlight coming in through the sheer curtains. “Come on. Man, you realize I can’t carry you. You have to walk.” She tugged on his shirt, helping him get to a kneeling position. “Oh, man…” He scrubbed at his face. “Up.” She gave his arm a quick twist upwards. “All right…” He grumbled and staggered to his feet. “I didn’t count on this shit, Rod. I mean it.” She escorted him to his bedroom. “Do not do this again.” “What’d I do?” He fell against the bed and closed his eyes. Hearing his breathing deepen, she crossed her arms. “Get help, big bro. Get help. You are not dealing with this shit well.” She left him to sleep it off and headed to bed. ~ Foley took a five hour snooze, showered, shaved and dressed in a pair of faded blue jeans and a crisply ironed cotton shirt. He dabbed on his favorite cologne and inspected his reflection. After running his hand through his short dark hair, Foley cupped his keys and tapped his back pocket making sure his wallet was in it. As he jogged to the Audi he dialed his cell phone. “Hello?” “Sorry, Serena. I didn’t mean to wake you. Is Rod there?” “Hang on.”

He heard the sound of the phone clunk and sat in the driver’s seat, starting his car. He checked his dash clock—it was nearing noon. “Hello?” “Did I wake you up too?” Foley blinked. “Sorry. Uh…what did we say we’re doing?” Trying not to be upset, Foley resisted the urge to shut off the engine and go back inside. “We were spending the day together.” “Right.” “Are we?” “Yes.” “I was on my way.” “Good. See you soon.” Foley disconnected the line and tossed the phone on the seat next to him, clenching his teeth. Am I wasting my time, Rod? ~ Rod stripped as he made his way to the bathroom. He started the water in the shower and held his hand under it until it warmed up, stepping into the tub. The water felt nice as it battered his face and woke him up. He had no idea why he had drank so much with Bob, nor how Bob had managed to drive home. He wasn’t even sure Bob had a valid driver’s license after having so many drunk driving arrests. He never thought to ask. He rinsed, shut off the taps, and grabbed a towel, rubbing it briskly over his face and head. The room was filled with steam as he stepped in front of the sink to shave. He opened the door to air it out and wiped the mirror with the towel, making a round peephole in which he could see his reflection. After draping the towel around his neck, Rod spread shave cream on his jaw and used a new razor to clean the stubble. A voice nearby said, “Sorry, Serena. Go back to bed.” Rod leaned out of the bathroom, dripping water and foam. “Shit. I’m not ready yet.” Foley stopped short. “Sorry, Foley. I’ll be done in a second.” Rod faced the mirror again, running the blade over his chin and neck. In the reflection, he spotted Foley leaning on the doorframe, arms crossed.

“Son of a bitch, Rod.” Foley blew air between his teeth as he stared at Rod’s ass. Rod became distracted and nicked himself. He flinched and watched the area become red. “Fuck.” “What?” “Got myself.” “Sorry. That’s probably my fault.” Rod stuck a piece of toilet paper on the blood, and kept shaving. A pair of hands cupped his ass cheeks from behind. He tried not to jump as the razor hovered over his top lip. The gentle caress ran round circles over his hips to his crease, down his inner thighs to his balls. Rod’s cock hit the bottom of the sink as it rose. When he felt a puff of a breath and a tongue tracing along his crack, Rod didn’t dare try to shave again. With foam running down his chest as it liquefied, Rod closed his eyes and leaned on the sink. A tongue darted in and out of his rim as his cheeks were spread. Foley coaxed Rod to widen his stance. When he opened his eyes, Rod watched Foley’s hand reach between his legs, tugging at his balls and using friction on the root of his cock. A masculine voice echoed in the damp room, “I want to make love to you.” Shivering from the mental images that invoked, both bad and good, Rod’s chest began heaving with his deep breaths. He dropped the razor into the sink as it began to shake in his hand. Kisses ran a trail up Rod’s back to his shoulder. The towel was pulled off and tossed on the closed toilet lid. After a rustling sound, Rod felt a stiff cock press between his butt cheeks. In the mirror he witnessed Foley’s hands cup his chest from behind, squeezing his hard nipples as he pumped his cock between Rod’s legs. “You are unbelievable.” Rod swallowed a dry lump in his throat. This is Foley. This is Foley Russell. Not Trick. Not ‘C’. Not Ral. He knew it wasn’t one of those inmates who did their best to get in his ass but never succeeded. A Cartier watch was attached to the left wrist of the arm that was moving downwards. Once Foley’s fingers got hold of Rod’s cock, Foley righted it as he thrust his smooth dick between Rod’s thighs and under his balls.

“Let me in, baby.” Foley licked Rod’s shoulder, tracing the spiraling lines of his tattoo. Rod’s body began to tremble so strongly he couldn’t hide it anymore. With white knuckles Rod clenched the sink, unable to stop shaking. Foley appeared to notice because he halted in his tracks and met Rod’s eyes in the mirror. Rod had a feeling he was showing panic, because Foley released him and stepped back. Rod picked the razor up and tried to finish. He only had his top lip to do. Holding it with both hands to stop the tremors, Rod heard a sob come out of his throat before he could prevent it. “Rod. I’m sorry.” With everything he had, Rod forced himself to focus and shave his lip. Once he did, he rinsed the razor, seeing his hands shake so severely he was humiliated. Foley handed him the towel, but still held the end of it to dab at Rod’s chest and neck. “Sweetheart.” Foley cooed gently, urging Rod out of the bathroom to sit on the foot of the bed. Foley closed the bedroom door and sat beside him, his arm around Rod’s shoulder. “You haven’t told me what you went through. I mean, in detail. You said you traded sex for protection. I should have realized what that meant.” “It doesn’t mean you can’t make love to me.” Rod didn’t want to lose Foley. Not for that reason. “You can.” “Hey. No rush. Okay?” Foley held up his hands in a gesture of surrender, and went to fasten his jeans. Rod stopped him and fell back on the bed, holding Foley, so they were lying face to face. “I will get through this.” “I know. You don’t have to do it on one week though.” Rod kissed him, backing up and asking, “Can you taste beer?” “No. I taste toothpaste.” Rod climbed over Foley, straddling Foley’s hips. He kissed Foley again, using his tongue this time, only making contact with Foley’s mouth. After some reassuring kissing, Rod sat on Foley and began unbuttoning his shirt. “You sure?”

“Yes.” Rod had to get through this mental sexual barrier. He would beat himself to death if he couldn’t please a lover he wanted to please. Once his shirt was open, Rod spread the material back and admired the hair on Foley’s chest. Not shaved. Not a young male. Foley was a man and certainly looked the part of the studly doctor dreamy. Rod ran his fingertips over Foley’s skin making Foley shiver. With a few jerking movements, Foley removed his shirt and lay still, panting as he anticipated Rod’s next move. Sliding backwards on Foley’s legs, Rod spread the material of his jeans to see Foley’s treasure trail and pubic hair. Rod buried his face into it and inhaled. “Oh, Rod. Holy shit.” “You smell so good.” Rod took another deep breath, filling his lungs with Foley’s clean scent. “I could spend all day down here.” He heard Foley chuckle. “Can I take them off?” Rod rolled to his side. Foley kicked off his shoes and peeled his socks and jeans off, tossing them on the floor. “Briefs?” “Off.” Foley flicked them down his legs and over the side. Taking his time, Rod touched Foley’s body as his eyes traced where his fingers led. Skin sans tattoos. It was a first. Everyone inside had ink, mostly homemade prison work. Rod ran his tongue down Foley’s chest to his belly button, pressing his face into his stomach. “Mmm.” Foley inhaled deeply in response, caressing Rod’s wet hair. The head of Foley’s cock brushed under Rod’s jaw. Rod took a look at it. Cut, smooth, with a heavy vein running under the length, pulsating with every beat of Foley’s heart. Resting beside Foley, Rod examined Foley’s balls, unshaven and wrinkled, moving inside their sack as they churned. Rod went for them. He didn’t suck anyone’s balls inside. It wasn’t making love in prison. It was an act. He didn’t swallow either. Using his mouth, he’d get Trick to the edge, then jack him off until he came. That was it. Only Trick. Rod had managed to keep his ass to himself,

though during the first few weeks that was a constant battle which cost him time in solitary. Rolling Foley’s balls over his tongue, Rod felt Foley’s legs tense up as the pleasure manifested itself. Dark visions were trying very hard to get into Rod’s head. One time. Once. He was in the shower and was attacked. Two men rammed him against the wall, trying to pin him to it to rape him. There was no way in hell Rod would live through that. They’d be fucking a corpse. He was willing to fight to the death over that violation. His roar of fury and the crashing of the walls and pipes finally alerted the guards. Rod had never wanted to murder anyone until that moment. Two inmates. Dog and Watt. “Keep them away from me or I’ll kill them!” Trick got wind of it immediately and the two would-be rapists were beaten to a pulp by Trick’s boys. This was after the black-garbed armed guards hogtied the pair and put them in the hole. Rod sat up, closing his eyes, forcing himself to rid the memory. “Come here.” He felt Foley tugging his arm. Rod dropped down beside him, accepting his comfort. Foley ran his thumb over Rod’s eyebrow softly, soothing him. “I go through shit too.” “Tell me.” Rod felt as if he was panting from anxiety so he tried to control his breathing. “I constantly have daydreams and nightmares about trying to reattach severed limbs, digging shrapnel out of guts, wrapping bandages around open chest cavities, gurgling from punctured lungs…” Rod cringed. “Jesus.” “Oh yeah. It was bad.” Foley snaked his arm around Rod and drew him to his chest. “Some hits were gunshot wounds, but we’re talking some serious IEDs.”

Resting his cheek on Foley’s chest, Rod let go a deep exhaled breath and relaxed his tightly wound back muscles. “How are you dealing with it? Do you see a counselor?” “I did. I had a few sessions when I first got back. I may still call him if I feel overwhelmed.” Foley stroked Rod’s hair. “There’s no stigma attached to seeing a therapist or taking mood meds any longer, Rod. Not like ten years ago.” “I know. I just never thought I’d be in this position.” “No. I guess not.” Silence passed while they cuddled, hearing cars drive by on the street in front and a dog barking. “Can you tell me what actually happened to make you shoot that agent?” Rod shifted on the bed, resting his knee over Foley’s soft package. “Yes. I think about it constantly. I keep over-thinking it. You know, like, if I’d have done this or that, I would have been found innocent.” “I get it. I do that when I think about the soldiers I lost. I think, if I had done this technique or been quicker evacuating them, they’d be alive.” Rod closed his eyes and squeezed Foley. “I’m about to tell you it wasn’t your fault and you did your best.” “My exact advice to you.” “I assumed that. Only you didn’t pull a trigger and kill a man.” Rod leaned up on his elbows so he could see Foley’s eyes. “Yeah. I did.” “Oh. Fuck, I feel stupid.” Rod shook off the sense of being a complete moron. “Right. Here’s the deal.” Foley crushed a pillow under his head and his focus became intense. “I was part of the Violent Crimes Task Force. I worked undercover with a source for nearly five months trying to get enough intelligence on this gang that was a heavy supplier in both drugs and weapons into the area.” Rod began to visualize the day, like he had done on many sleepless nights. “Finally the time had arrived when we were moving in for the raid. We had local enforcement there, a command center, loads of help. We were ready to rock and roll.” Foley nodded, keeping quiet.

This part of the story was where Rod always grew angry. “One moron I came across every time I hit headquarters was SAC Martin Goush. The fucker hated me on sight. At first it was teasing, you know, why was I in my mid-thirties and never been married…little comments insinuating he was aware I was gay. But he never said anything to me when I had a witness. Fucking never.” Rod felt the sweat break on his forehead and his skin prickle. He took another deep breath. “So…I’m aware this dipshit is after me, right?” Rod could see Foley’s concern clearly on his face. “The day before the big raid, Goush cornered me in the fucking men’s room. Calls me a cocksucker. Before I could even react, he’s gone. Out of the room. I swear, Foley, the hatred coming from him was like toxic gas.” “Fucker.” “Yeah, no shit.” Rod wiped the sweat off his face and continued. “We get ready for this detail. All geared up, you know, helmets, masks, and shit.” Rod’s heart rate began to accelerate. “I’m at the briefing and we’re all standing around as the supervisory special agent is showing us the specs. I knew them. I provided most of them. Two ways in, one back alley, one front door, bars on the windows…whatever.” Rod again dabbed at the sweat as it ran down his temples. He was suddenly burning up. “We had a strong team. I mean, I worked with the men and women there. Son of a bitch, Foley, good agents. I knew the local SWAT team commander, another top ace…the DEA, agents you would risk your life for. All the best of the best.” “Shit.” “Yeah. You already know it. We head to the place, right?” Rod stopped talking to sit up and use both hands to wipe his face. “Can I get you something?” Foley sat up with him. “Let me get through this.” Rod dropped his hands to his lap and forced himself to tell it all. “Right. It’s winter, fucking dead of night. We get the go ahead. I hustle to the back alley, my position, back door guard. I get to my spot and stop. I look behind me. I assumed there’d be three or four other members with me. No. There isn’t. I see fucking SAC Goush. Just him.

He’s not geared up. He’s in a business suit with a bullet proof vest on, his pistol in his hand, pointing down, but no one’s with him. With us.” Rod bit his lip and then said, “I can’t yell, ‘Hey, Asshole, where is everyone?’ Ya know? We’re conducting a raid on some very violent suspects. But I got a weird feeling Goush waved them back, maybe said, we don’t need you all here. Who the fuck knows? But it wasn’t the planned tactic.” Foley reached for Rod’s arm, reassuring him. “I have one ear cocked to radio, trying to figure out if things went bad and they were shutting it down. I had no idea where the rest of the team was. Then, behind me, Goush starts to get on me. I mean big time.” Rod interlaced his fingers on his lap. “He’s calling me a queen, cocksucker, every nasty name in his vocabulary. He’s telling me I’m going to hell and ‘my kind’ should not only be banned from any type of police, military or paramilitary career, we should be wiped off the planet. That I’m worse than the scum we’re trying to arrest inside the building.” As Foley waited, Rod choked on his words and took a deep breath. “I was trying to ignore him and listen to what the commanders were saying over the air. I needed to know when this raid was going down. It was serious shit, Foley.” “I know.” “I look over my shoulder just to tell the jerk to be quiet, because I can’t hear over his babbling. So, I look back right? That fucker’s got his gun aimed at me with his finger on the trigger. I’m not talking indexed, I’m talking on the trigger, ready to fire. So, I’m in my gear, and I’m thinking he’s going to shoot my neck, my face, somewhere vulnerable.” Foley scooted closer. “I yelled, ‘Goush, you moron! Point that thing somewhere else.’ He pulls the trigger!” Rod began rocking, his face dripping with sweat. “I hear the bullet hit the building next to me, the brick shattered and hit my eye shield in a spray of rocks. Then I hear entry made in front. The whole area is going nuts when the boys batter the door in and flood the place. I’m splitting my attention on the back door, waiting for someone to fly out of it to escape when I see this fucker is gearing up to pull the trigger again, walking directly towards me, aiming at my face!”

Foley cringed. “What was I supposed to do?” Rod felt his voice strangle in his throat. “Huh? I’m standing by myself with this lunatic, in a black alley, my fucking MP5 in my hand.” “So, you shot him.” “I had to!” Rod bit back his scream of frustration. “I didn’t want to. I didn’t. I shot once. Fucking pierced his neck. He drops like a son-of-a-bitch. Next thing I hear is voices inside the back door. The thing swings open and my team is inside. Kelso says, ‘all clear’ and looks at me. He gives me this weird look. I know he sees me freaking out. He asks me what the hell’s wrong.” Rod wiped at his eyes. “I say, I killed Goush. He tried to kill me.” Foley reached to hug Rod but Rod became stiff from his anger and resisted. “Kelso takes my gun, makes me face the wall, like I’m a sack of shit suspect.” Rod swiped at his eyes. “I don’t remember much from there. I was led to some interrogation room in a local agency. They questioned me for five or six hours straight. I was blind with exhaustion and had a headache that was so bad I couldn’t think.” “Why didn’t you invoke your legal right for an attorney?” “I didn’t think I did anything wrong. A fucker aims his gun at me? Shoots at my head?” “Rod?” Serena called from out in the hall. “Are you okay?” “Sorry. Sorry, Serena.” Rod rubbed his eyes. “He’s okay, Serena. He’s okay.” Foley grabbed Rod and forced him to his chest to embrace. Rod said, “I thought if I told the truth, I’d be okay. But no one had ever heard him say a thing to me. No one.” Rod calmed down. “There were no witnesses to who shot first. Yeah, they saw the hole in the wall near me. They said he was defending himself. That if he shot first, I’d be hit. That the man was a good shot. Oh, you should have heard the prosecutor. I killed a thirty year veteran of the bureau, a family man, a father and husband, a pillar of the community. They painted me as a rogue male, always into undercover, tattoos, long hair.” “All right.” Foley rubbed his back. “I kept thinking, if I had only depressed the mike on my shoulder when he was saying those things. If I had got it on tape,

you know? All I had to do was press the microphone while he was spewing his garbage.” “You can’t go back and what-if yourself.” “I can. If I had complained. If I had put it on record of the amount of times he harassed me. If I hadn’t have been quiet about it. If I would have made a formal complaint, told a friend—” “Calm down. Shh.” Foley kissed his cheek, holding Rod’s head to his own. “I did it to myself by my silence, Foley. I didn’t want to make waves. I wanted to keep to myself and have a long, unblemished career. I didn’t want to be known as the moron who beefed another agent. Get a reputation as a whiner who needs the brass to fight his battles. Look what my silence did for me?” Foley ran kisses down Rod’s sweat-stained face. “A twenty year sentence for manslaughter. Ten years of living with the scum of the earth. Sucking cock to keep from getting killed. And I still got stabbed.” Rod sat up and pointed to the scar. “A shiv made from a pen. Look. Nailed right under the rib. Missed my lung by a hair.” “Baby…I’m sorry.” Foley cupped Rod’s face. “Tell me how I can help. What can I do?” “Nothing. Nothing.” Rod felt dead inside. Foley managed to get Rod to lay prone beside him. Rod was numb as Foley caressed him, trying to fix what he could not fix. Rod’s skin cooled as he settled down and the air dried his sweat. “It wasn’t fair. It was dead wrong.” Foley stroked Rod’s hair back from his forehead. “Yes. But I lost. Lost everything.” “Not everything.” Rod met Foley’s eyes. “You have me.” Rod leaned forward and kissed him. Foley wrapped his arms around Rod and forced him to lie on top of him. With Foley underneath, Rod began devouring his lips, grinding his crotch against Foley’s. The friction made Rod crazy. He arched his back and pressed his stiff cock against Foley’s dewy skin. Releasing a growl of

pent up frustration, Rod clamped his eyes shut and humped Foley’s groin. Foley spread his legs. “Get a rubber.” “I don’t have one.” Rod punched the bed and tried to calm down. “Hang on. I do.” Foley touched Rod’s shoulder. Rod allowed Foley to get up. After taking his wallet from his pants, Foley climbed back on the bed, opening the condom wrapper with his teeth, and rolling it on Rod’s cock. Rod hissed in longing. Foley flattened himself against the bed and raised his bottom in the air. Rod knelt behind him and placed his cock on target. “Let me know.” “I will.” Rod eased inside Foley’s tight ass. As he penetrated to the hilt, Rod shook with anticipation and hunger. “You okay?” “Yes.” He felt Foley’s tense body let go and was able to glide in more easily. Rod held onto Foley’s hips and increased his speed and depth. He stared at the connection and lit on fire. Finally. His cock getting satisfaction inside a man. “Foley…” Rod edged the climax. “Go for it, babe.” With the okay from his lover, Rod thrust in, riding to the stars. “Yes. Oh-fuck, yes.” Rod jammed his cock as tightly as he could into Foley, feeling it ejecting its seed into him. He closed his eyes and opened his mouth to gain air, waiting for the sensation to subside. Coming back to reality, Rod pulled out, sitting on his heels. Foley rolled over, leaning on his elbows. “Good one?” “Fuck yeah. Thank you. Man, I mean it, Foley. It means everything to me.” “My pleasure, Rod. You know that.” Rod removed the rubber and staggered off the bed towards the bathroom. Foley jumped to his feet to hold Rod’s elbow so he wouldn’t topple over. As Rod cleaned up he was shaking. “When is all this going to feel normal?” Foley handed him a towel. “It will. Give it time.”

After he used it, Rod tossed the hand towel over the shower door. “Come on. Let’s relax.” Foley led Rod back to the bed. They dropped down on it and cuddled. The next thing Rod knew, he was sleeping.

Chapter 10 Foley lay awake with his hands behind his head as Rod rested beside him. He could hear Serena in the kitchen, dishes clinking and the sound of the television on. It was after two and Foley was left to think about the events that led to Rod being falsely imprisoned. He had heard tales of innocent men being convicted of crimes they didn’t commit, but Foley actually didn’t believe it. He assumed if you went to jail you obviously did something wrong. His belief system took a hit. A dead, homophobic man’s word won in court. Did that bastard seriously never utter a demeaning slam to another agent in all his inglorious thirty year career? Foley didn’t believe that. Leopards don’t change their spots. Foley knew someone, someone in the bureau had also been a victim to Goush’s venom. But that individual either had no idea there was a trial involving him, or did not want to come forward to admit the accusation. His thoughts wandered to the legal defense team who had represented Rod. What kind of slap-dash job had they done to allow this kind of injustice without an appeal? Without all the facts? Any fool, including a jury in Los Angeles, could see Rod was a decent human being. Why the plea bargain for an innocent man charged with a heinous crime? Rod wouldn’t have been found guilty, no way. No wonder you’re haunted. Even my tour of duty on the front line wouldn’t drive me as insane as that miscarriage of justice. Foley kissed Rod’s hair. Rod stirred, his eyelashes fluttering. “What time is it?” “Around two.” “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” Rod rubbed his face. “It’s okay. Why don’t we get out though? Maybe I can take you to lunch.” “Yes. Okay. Let me wake up.” Rod was about to get off the bed. Foley stopped him. “Get over here first.” Foley coiled his arms and legs around Rod, holding him close. When they were

chest to chest, Foley smiled. “Have I told you how much I like you?” That made Rod smile. “No. How much do you like me?” “A whole lot.” Foley wriggled his crotch against Rod’s. “Mm. Hey. I got off. You didn’t.” “It’s okay.” “I can do you. Any way you want it.” Foley caught a wry gleam in Rod’s eyes. “You don’t have to.” “I want to.” Rod reached between them, running his hand over Foley’s semi-erection. “You sure?” “Sure, I’m sure.” Rod got a better hold on Foley’s dick. “Kiss me while you jerk me off.” “Deal.” Rod squeezed Foley’s length. Foley dug his fingers through Rod’s hair and brought him to his mouth. With his focus on their tongues swirling together, Foley’s cock went stiff in Rod’s palm. Foley bent his knee, opening his thighs. Rod immediately reached between them, cradling his balls. “Nice.” Foley purred as he kissed Rod, becoming the aggressor, orally fucking Rod’s mouth. Rod quickened his pace, fisting Foley’s cock and massaging the root. Close to an orgasm, Foley parted from Rod’s lips and looked down as the thick cream spurted from his slit and spattered his skin. Rod milked Foley’s cock strongly as Foley rode the waves of the aftershocks. “That was great.” “My pleasure. I owe you more than that.” Rod ran his thumb over the head of Foley’s dick, sliding the last drops against his skin. “You don’t owe me anything. But I’ll take whatever you want to give me.” Rod connected to Foley’s eyes. “Man, I could really get attached to a guy like you.” “Good!” Foley smiled, pecking Rod’s lips. “Come on. Wash up, then wine and dine me, Doctor.” Rod rolled off the bed to his feet. “Deal.” ~

Foley located Serena sipping coffee in the kitchen when he and Rod walked into the room. “You guys okay?” “Yes. Thanks, Serena.” Rod pointed to the coffee pot. “Do you want a cup?” “Sure, if you’re having one.” Foley thought it would appear rude to just rush off without chatting with Serena a little first. “Sit down, Foley.” She gathered a stack of mail from the kitchen table and relocated it to the counter. “Thanks.” He pulled the chair out from the table. “Milk and sugar?” Rod asked. “Just milk.” Foley studied the two, seeing the similarities between siblings. Rod obviously was big and rugged, but Serena had his hair and eye coloring, and their narrow nose was the same shape. “Thanks.” Foley took the cup Rod handed to him, blowing the steam off the top. “What are your plans today?” Serena shut off the tiny portable television that sat in the corner of the kitchen table. “The doctor is taking me out to lunch.” Rod smiled, leaning back on the counter, his legs crossed casually. “Would you like to join us?” Foley asked. “No. I’ve got stuff to catch up on.” “You sure?” Foley had no problem having Serena accompany them. “I’m sure. I just want to do some errands that have been hanging over my head.” In the silence, again, Foley began thinking about what Rod had said about the scenario of the shooting in the alley. He got lost on the details. Unanswered questions that if Foley voiced, he wondered if it would sound as if he didn’t believe Rod or still had doubts. Which wasn’t true. “Right.” After finishing his coffee, Rod placed his mug into the sink. “We’ll see you later, Serena.” Foley stood and Rod took the mug from him, rinsing it with his. “Are you on shift tonight, Serena?” “Yes. I have Sunday-Monday off this week.” She pushed her hair back from her forehead. “I’ve asked for days.”

Rod shut the water and spun around to listen. “You’ll get it,” Serena answer, flipping her wrist as if it was going to be easy. “There’s always someone on the rotation looking to swap. And vets get top priority.” “I hope so.” Foley took his keys out of his pocket. “See ya, sis.” Rod pecked her forehead with a light kiss. “Bye. Have fun.” She waved. Foley waited as Rod made sure he had everything he needed before they left. They locked the front door behind them and walked to the Audi. Once they were seated, Rod asked, “You asked for days?” “Yes.” Foley backed out of the driveway. He noticed Rod staring out of the passenger’s window, definitely thinking about the implications of that request. To stem any misconceptions or prevent Rod from feeling pressured, Foley said, “I thought I’d adjust to nights, but I really don’t sleep well during the days.” Rod met his gaze and nodded. “So, uh, you like any particular kind of food?” “I like it all.” “Good.” Foley squeezed Rod’s thigh. A few minutes later Foley pulled into a parking lot of a Mexican restaurant off of Santa Monica Boulevard. There was a slight chill to the breeze, but the outdoor patio was open and the decorative umbrella fringes shivered over the tables. Foley had been to the place regularly so he approached the hostess. “Table for two, please.” “On the deck?” “No. How about inside?” Foley checked back at Rod. “That okay with you?” “Yup.” Rod stuffed his hands into his black jacket pockets, eyeing the place as if it were about to erupt in an exchange of gunfire. They were led to a table for two, against a wall of windows with a good vantage point to the rest of the patrons. Foley waited before he claimed a seat. There was no doubt in his mind Rod was tactically trained. Foley had been around military men often enough to see there was always a method to their madness.

Rod sat with his back to the wall, a grand view of everything around him. Trying not to smile because Foley knew Rod’s secret, he took off his jacket and draped it over the chair. “Clear shot of everyone behind me, agent?” Rod laughed softly. “Clear shot. No gun.” Rod slipped his jacket off, elbowing it over the seat back. “Yeah, but at least you can yell, duck.” That made Rod chuckle again. Foley picked up a menu. “Have you ever been here?” “No.” Rod scanned the selections. “Everything is good.” The waiter appeared by their table. “Can I start you with a drink?” “Ice water, please.” Rod appeared very serious suddenly. “You don’t want a beer or margarita?” Foley asked. “Not really. You have one. It’s okay.” “Iced tea, please.” Foley smiled at the waiter as he left. “You asked me if I could taste beer on you this morning.” “Yeah. I over did it. I think because I’ve been alcohol-free for a decade, I went a little crazy.” “Ah.” Foley got it. “Have to learn moderation all over again.” “Yup. I told you. Pretend I’m two.” “Yeah, right.” Foley laughed, eyeing the menu. The waiter brought their drinks and a basket of tortilla chips and dip. “Do you need more time?” “Rod?” Foley asked. “I’ll take the chicken enchiladas.” Rod handed off the menu. “Same here.” Foley did as well. “Very good. I’ll be right back.” Foley stirred his iced tea with his straw, staring at Rod. “I have some things gnawing at me. Can I ask them?” “Shoot.” Rod leaned his elbows on the table. “Tell me about your legal defense team. Did you find them? Or did you get a recommendation?” Rod sat up in his seat, taking a moment to answer. “If you don’t want talk about it anymore. I get it.” “No. I don’t mind. It’s just that you’re the second person to mention that. My boss over at the labor job, Bob Smith, asked me the same thing.”

Foley dipped a chip into the salsa and ate it, waiting for more from Rod. “I have to tell ya, it’s a blur. I remember some skinny guy with glasses telling me he and his partner were my defense attorneys. The two of them acted as a team. I was shell-shocked from being charged. I just assumed no one would doubt my word, but when they filed for second degree murder, I have to admit I shut down mentally.” “I can imagine.” “I even took the stand, but fuck if I remember what I said.” Rod ate a chip, looking tired. “I hate even trying to Monday morning quarterback, ten years too late, but…” “I know. I go over and over everything, and to be honest, until Bob mentioned it, I didn’t think the defense was an issue. I just figured they thought I was some kind of hood and if it went to trial I’d get life without parole.” “Did you strip and show off your tats for these guys?” “No!” Rod laughed uncomfortably. “You do realize in a suit, you look like any other FBI agent or official walking around this state. So that’s a crock of shit.” “I wore a suit and tie every day we were in court. I was chained up like a dog, but I was dressed in civilian clothing.” Foley opened his hands in a gesture of frustration. Rod fished out his wallet from his back pocket. He pulled out a piece of paper from the inside and unfolded it, handing it to Foley. Foley took it, reading a name. “Jack Larsen.” When he said it, two men from a nearby table spun around immediately to stare. Foley recognized one instantly. He leaned over the basket of chips to whisper to Rod. “See that guy?” Rod took a quick glance. “Long hair?” “Yeah. He’s a model for cologne. His name’s Mark Richfield.” Rod shrugged. “And?” “When I said Jack’s name, he and his friend turned around and stared at me.” “You think they know Jack?” Rod took back the paper.

“No clue. Anyway,” he gave his attention back to Rod. “So I take it that Jack Larsen is an attorney.” Foley caught both men trying to overhear his and Rod’s conversation. “Bob recommended him. He’s gay and very into serving the community.” “What the hell can he do for you now?” “I don’t know. It seems kind of late to do anything at all.” The waiter appeared with a serving tray and began placing their food in front of them. “Anything else I can get you?” “No. Looks good. Thanks.” Foley smiled as he left. “What if you just talked to Jack?” Foley took a bite of his meal. “And? He can’t appeal a sentence that’s been served.” “What if he cleared your name? What if he got this taken off your record and your job reinstated?” “What if pigs had wings and could fly?” Rod made a silly face at Foley. “Seriously, Rod. Think about it.” “How the hell can he do that?” “I don’t know. They clear people all the time with DNA and shit.” Foley noticed two men join Mark Richfield and his friend. Mark pointed to him and Rod while he was speaking to a handsome blond guy who was with another dark-haired man. “Now they’re talking about us.” Foley covered his mouth with his napkin as he spoke. “They’re looking over here.” Rod didn’t hide his curiosity this time. He gave the four men a good long stare. “Any of you know Jack Larsen, an attorney?” Foley choked on his food at the brazen act. “I’m Jack Larsen.” The blond approached their table. “You have to be kidding me.” Foley stood, extending his hand to Jack in greeting. “Hi, Jack. I’m Foley Russell.” “Do I know you?” Jack shook Rod’s hand as well. Rod showed him his scrap of paper. “Your name was dropped to me. I’m Rod Reynolds, nice to meet you.” “Do you need legal help?” “We don’t want to interrupt your lunch.” Foley felt his cheeks go red as the other three men stared. With one hand Jack swung an unoccupied chair to sit next to Rod. “I don’t care. What do you need?”

Foley cringed at the story Rod would have to reveal. It was an ugly tale. “Jack, not here or now. It’s a long story and would monopolize your time with your friends. How about I make an appointment with you just to see if anything can be done?” Rod wiped his hands on his napkin. “To be honest. I think I’m up shit’s creek.” “Come to my office. When are you free?” “I work eight to five.” Rod fidgeted with his cloth napkin nervously. “Are you off tomorrow?” “I can’t bug you on a Sunday.” Foley stayed quiet, wondering if Jack’s friends thought this was a major imposition on Jack’s time off. “You can.” Jack stopped a waiter as he sped by. “Can I borrow your pen?” “Sure.” The waiter handed it to him and kept walking. Jack took the piece of paper with his name written on it. “Here’s my mobile phone number. Just call me in the early afternoon and I can stop by your place, or you can stop by mine. If you’re not comfortable with that, we can meet at a coffee shop.” “Come to my place,” Foley said to Rod. “Could you write your address on here, Foley?” Rod handed Foley the pen and paper. Foley did and tore the note page in half, handing Jack the part he needed. “One o’clock okay?” Jack asked. “Yes. I don’t know how to thank you, Jack.” Rod looked so worn out, Foley felt his heart break for him. “I haven’t helped you yet. Let’s just talk about what you need. Okay?” Jack stood, swinging the chair back to its table like it was a feather. “Thanks.” Foley watched Jack return to his friends, who all seemed eager to get the dirt. “Hey, can’t hurt to run it by him.” Foley continued to eat his food.

“I wish I’d had someone like him to help me when this all went down.” Foley reached to touch Rod’s hand. “Don’t do it. Don’t ‘what if’ yourself to death. I do it and I told you, it’s useless.” Rod agreed. “Right.” “Think about it.” Foley actually felt excited. “Okay, if you’re going to ‘what if’, how about ‘what if’ this guy, this Jack Larsen, attorney at law, can undo all the fucking damage done to you?” “I can’t even think of that. I know it’s impossible and it’ll just get my hopes up.” “So? What’s wrong with hope?” Foley grinned. “Nothing. Without it, I would have hung myself in jail years ago.” Foley’s smile fell off his face quickly. “Uh. How do you like the food?” He changed the topic. “It’s excellent. Best Mexican I’ve ever tasted.” “Good. Hang in there, babe.” Rod met Foley’s gaze and without saying a word, Foley knew he would. ~ Rod had some things on his to-do list as well. He needed a cell phone, a car, an apartment…just a few small necessities to feel like a man and not a dependent dick. As Foley drove out of the parking lot of the restaurant Rod asked, “Would you mind if we stopped at an electronic store? I need to get one of those pay-as-you-go phones.” “You got it.” Foley hit the main street. “Can I ask another personal question?” “Yeah. You will whether I want you to or not.” Rod chuckled as he answered. “Did that bunch of legal dickwads break you financially?” “Yup.” Rod slouched in the seat, staring at the pedestrians and storefronts as they passed. “But don’t even offer to loan me money.” “I would. If you asked.” “I’m not asking. I don’t need your help. I have a job.” Foley didn’t say another word about it, and Rod was glad he didn’t.

Standing at the counter of a store, Rod purchased the cheapest phone he could, and put twenty-five dollars of air time on it. Once they were standing outside the doorway, Foley took his out of his pocket. “What’s your number?” As Rod read it off, Foley entered it into his list of names. “Let’s let poor Serena off the hook while she’s sleeping.” Rod put the phone into his jacket pocket while carrying the plastic bag containing the packaging with the other hand. “Next?” Foley asked. “Car shopping?” Rod laughed with one ‘ha’. “Not yet. I’m going to make an offer on one of the boss’s old pickup trucks. I think he’ll give one to me for a couple hundred.” “Sounds good.” Foley opened the locks on the car doors as they approached his Audi. “Love this thing.” Rod relaxed in the bucket seat, stroking the dashboard. “I’ll tell ya something about cars.” Foley started the engine. “They get you from point A to point B. Other than that, they’re an expensive liability.” “Yeah, right.” Foley didn’t want to patronize Rod. “What did you drive before…” “Before…” Rod felt his lips curl into an ironic smile. “An AMC SUV. Loaded.” “Black, right?” “Yup.” “Funny coincidence meeting Jack Larsen like that.” Foley stopped at a red light. “I know. I have to admit I probably wouldn’t have called him. I’m embarrassed to tell anyone what’s going on.” “I can understand that. But I have to tell you, he seems very cool.” “He does. He put me at ease instantly.” Rod rested his hand on Foley’s knee. “My place okay? Just to relax?” “Just to relax?” Rod actually felt normal. Maybe life was like riding a bike. You just have to get on it again to get back into the swing of things. “Yeah. Just to relax.” Rod ran his hand against

Foley’s inseam, touching his balls through his jeans. “I can handle that.” The minute they entered Foley’s home, Rod swung him into his arms and connected to his lips. Foley moaned sensually and tossed his keys on a side table. Though they’d only known each other a week, Rod felt as if he and Foley were best friends from years back. They clicked. As the prison time became a memory and not a daily reality, Rod began to remember his life before that decade span. He’d been happy. He loved his work. He had great times with his friends over a drink or playing sports. Though he didn’t have a boyfriend, since his undercover work kept him occupied constantly, this companionship was just what he had been missing. Thirty-six years of age and never in a relationship. Wasn’t it time? Foley’s tongue was doing tantalizing swirls in his mouth. Rod felt his cock throb as it became interested in a hot hole. Foley tugged Rod’s jacket down his arms, his shirt over his head and opened Rod’s jeans. “I want to make love to you.” A surge of passion flooded Rod’s groin. Foley ran his tongue from Rod’s lips to his jaw, down his neck to a nipple. The attraction Rod felt for Foley was making his chest heave with his accelerated breathing. After both nipples were wet and hard, Foley chewed his way downwards. “Oh fuck.” Rod shivered and grabbed Foley’s shoulders for balance. Foley peeled Rod’s jeans down his hips to his thighs. He grabbed Rod’s ass and nuzzled into Rod’s pubic hair. With his heart pounding in his chest, Rod kept his vision on Foley’s actions. One more yank of his jeans and briefs and Rod’s cock sprang out of his clothing. Foley devoured it using his hands on Rod’s butt to pump Rod’s cock into his mouth. Rod didn’t have time to think of prison, of what he did there. He did nothing like this! “Babe…wow…” Rod felt a rush of bliss begin to form between his legs. Two feet inside the front door and Rod’s dick was in Foley’s mouth. Oh, this is sooo good.

Foley’s technique of sucking hard and drawing his tongue under the head of his cock was making Rod swoon. Foley parted Rod’s ass cheeks and toyed with his rim. Rod was pushed over the edge. “I’m coming, babe.” “Mm.” Foley tripled his effort, going wild. Rod’s legs went numb and his knees buckled. He closed his eyes and thrust his hips so he was as deep inside Foley’s mouth as possible. He felt the sensation of his cum passing through his dick and the pleasure was beyond belief. He opened his mouth and grunted, maybe gasped, Rod didn’t know what he was doing at the moment. He was coming. That’s what. Foley kept drawing more out of Rod until Rod was ready to pass out. When he opened his eyes, Foley had a devilish grin on his face as he held Rod’s cock between his lips. “Wow.” Rod laughed but he was tingling from head to toe. Foley gave the tip of Rod’s dick a lick and kiss, grabbed his hand and led him to the bedroom. Rod held his pants up by the waist and hurried after Foley. While Foley retrieved items they needed from the nightstand, Rod removed all his clothing and dropped to his back on the bed, watching Foley. A rubber and lube at the ready, Foley gazed directly into Rod’s eyes as he undressed. Rod opened his legs in invitation. I swear to God I never thought I would allow someone inside me after the shit I went through. Now I want you in. “I want you in.” Foley’s expression changed to a broad smile. “It’s where I want to be.” He knelt on the bed between Rod’s knees and used gel on his finger to penetrate Rod. Rod drew a breath between his teeth and intentionally unwound his clenched muscles. “Oh, man, you are to die for.” Foley gave Rod’s entire body a sweeping glance. Three fingers slid inside him. Rod shivered and used his hands to part his thighs wider. “Wow that feels good.” Foley gently massaged Rod’s prostate for a few moments. Rod’s cock became interested, perking up. “Want to come again?”

“No. You go ahead.” Rod slid lower on the bed, raising his legs back against his body. Foley removed his fingers and inched closer, put on a rubber, and pushed his cock towards Rod’s ring. On contact Rod tightened his jaw but imagined his body letting go. He knew the drill. He’d had anal sex before. The pressure and discomfort soon eased. Foley was a considerate lover and took care to go slowly until Rod felt ready. “How you doing?” “Good. Go for it.” Rod settled back against the pillows. Foley held Rod’s shins and pushed in to the hilt. Rod could feel his cock shiver inside him, and loved it. “Rod…shit. This is amazing.” Foley thrust fast and deep, closing his eyes. Foley’s dick thickened to stone as he made love. Rod stared at Foley’s expression, his body, and the movement of Foley’s hips. When Foley threw back his head and whimpered, chills raced up Rod’s spine at seeing him in orgasm. Rod never watched the men in prison come. Only heard their degrading comments. If anyone ever called him his ‘bitch’ again, he’d beat them unconscious. Shaking off the thought with an effort, Rod focused on Foley. His delicious medical-man who was an angel to the military on the front lines. That’s what should be on my mind. From this day forward. “Rod…thank you.” Foley pulled out, holding the rubber by the base. “You don’t have to thank me.” Rod laughed uncomfortably. “Be right back.” After Foley left to wash up, Rod stretched out on the bed, still feeling the lingering echo of Foley’s cock in his body. He rolled to his side and stared at an impressionist landscape painting on the wall near the window. Heavy drapes blocked out the light, Rod assumed, to help Foley sleep during the day. As he investigated the room, Rod noticed a family portrait in a gilded wood frame opposite a poster from Casablanca with Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman. Foley poked his head into the room. “Need a washcloth?”

“Sure.” As Rod reached for it, he asked, “Is that an original?” pointing at the poster. “Yes. I got it at auction. Pretty sweet, huh?” “Nice.” Rod wiped up and handed Foley the cloth. Foley tossed it into the bathroom and flopped down on the bed near Rod. “Hey, good lookin’.” Rod felt his cheeks blush. Foley traced his index finger over one of the scrolling lines of Rod’s tattoo. “Am I keeping you from anything?” “No. Why? Do you want me to leave?” “Nope.” Foley scooted closer so their crotches touched. “I hate to tell you, I could nap.” Rod yawned, trying to stifle it. “Nothing wrong with an afternoon nap.” Foley licked Rod’s chin. “Come ‘ere.” Rod coiled his arm around Foley’s neck and held him against his chest. “Nap with me.” “My pleasure.” Rod heard Foley let out a deep exhale. He closed his eyes and felt truly peaceful. Something he hadn’t felt in a very long time.

Chapter 11 The sound of an explosion and the sight of blood made Foley’s heart pound. He jumped and opened his eyes. The room was dim and quiet. “Foley? Hey. You okay?” The touch of Rod’s hand brought Foley around. He wiped the dewy sweat from his face. “Sorry.” “Been there. Done that.” Foley rearranged the pillow under his head, looking at Rod. “I can’t stop dreaming about it. I swear, I’ll forever be in Iraq, mopping up blood.” Rod caressed Foley’s forehead. “I can’t tell you how much I can relate to the nightmares. Even before prison I had dreams of bullets passing through my body from working the street.” In the calm of the surroundings, Foley’s heart rate slowed to a resting pace. He stared at Rod’s dark eyes for comfort. “I think that’s why we connect. You know? Some guys have no idea of the pressure of some jobs. They sit with a laptop sipping lattes. I don’t think I can handle another one of those.” “Civies…” Rod grinned impishly. “They’re clueless.” “Got that right. I figured I’d end up with a cop or something eventually.” “Or something.” “I can’t date doctors.” “Why not?” “We fucking argue.” Rod chuckled. “I’m not kidding. It’s worse than opposing political views.” “Should I ask yours?” “Nah, why ruin a good thing?” Foley grinned, cupping Rod’s soft genitals. “Are we being lazy?” Rod bent his knee so Foley had better access to his balls. “Aren’t we entitled?” “You are.” Rod used his index finger knuckle to run over Foley’s coarse jaw. “Seriously, Rod, if I’m keeping you from doing things, let me know.”

Rod made a deliberate look at Foley’s contact on his dick. “You’re kidding right?” Foley laughed, tightening his hold on Rod’s cock. It stiffened in his palm. They stayed quiet as Foley played, tugging and moving Rod’s balls inside his sack. Rod sprawled out on the bed, arms over his head, legs spread. The size of Rod, his muscularity, turned Foley into an inferno. Foley could imagine how many men would want Rod inside a prison. And his fellow convicts knowing Rod was gay? Christ, that must have been living hell. Some of Foley’s gay erotic videos had play-acting prison scenes. Foley knew reality was not a fun frolic and fantasy pleasure role. The thought of having to suck someone’s cock you did not want to suck, but felt obligated to so you wouldn’t be murdered, must have been pure torture. Ten years? Ten motherfucking years of sucking dick for protection? Goddamn, I can’t even fathom that. You poor guy. “Foley?” “Huh?” Foley just realized he had stopped moving his hand and was staring at Rod’s softening cock in a haze. Rod sounded suspicious. “You lost somewhere?” “No.” Foley began fondling Rod’s cock again. Rod stopped him, holding his wrist. “Go ahead.” “What?” Foley felt hot suddenly from nerves. “Ask me.” “Ask you what?” “I don’t know what. You tell me.” Though Foley wanted to continue what he was doing, he dropped down beside Rod and met his eyes. “Can I guess?” “Don’t.” Foley felt guilty. Rod sat up, placing his feet on the floor beside the bed, about to rise to his feet. Foley dove at him, grabbing his shoulders to hold him back. The amount of speed and force Rod used to escape his grasp astonished Foley. Foley inhaled sharply and sat up, blinking in awe.

Rod was battle ready, but soon softened his posture. “Maybe you should take me home.” Rod looked around for his clothing. “Rod, come on. Don’t leave.” Rod stood, rubbing his face as if he were either exhausted or conflicted. Foley didn’t know what to say. The silence grew heavy. “Just fucking ask me!” Rod dropped his hands to his sides. “What do you think I want to know?” “What I did in prison. How much cock I had. Right?” “No.” “You’re fucking lying. You were jerking me off and then suddenly you’re just staring at my dick, gone.” “Maybe I was thinking of something I did. What makes you think this has anything to do with you?” Rod crossed his arms. Foley was a crappy liar. If he began a story he’d never remember it. It seemed Rod was waiting for his version of this so-called ‘something I did’. “Okay. So what if I was thinking that. So? I’m not holding it against you.” Rod turned his back on Foley, rubbing his forehead. Foley got distracted by the tattoos on Rod’s shoulders and behind his neck. How his shoulders flared out to a perfect V shape from his hips. He crawled over the bed, held Rod’s waist and kissed him between the shoulder blades. Tension seemed to drain out of Rod’s body, his arms went limp at his sides and he exhaled a loud breath. Foley began lapping at Rod’s skin, down his spine. Rod’s scent was intoxicating. I don’t give a shit what you did. You’re mine now. With his right hand, Foley ran the length of Rod’s crack, massaging his ass. Using his left arm, Foley encircled Rod’s narrow hips, bumping into an erection. Holding that stiff length, Foley ran his fingers under Rod’s balls, tugging them, manipulating them as his desire for Rod grew intolerable. When Rod reached back, touching Foley, Foley felt reassured. Without a word, he drew Rod to the bed, lying him down as he was before he stood. Foley straddled Rod’s hips and

braced himself above him, staring at him. The mixture of deep sadness and carnal craving made Rod’s eyes shimmer. Foley went for his lips. Rod opened his mouth and received Foley’s tongue. As they kissed, Foley brushed their stiff cocks together. At first Rod ran his hands up and down Foley’s upper arms, but Rod ventured downwards clasping both their erections in his hands. Foley pumped slowly into Rod’s hot palms. The friction from his coarse calluses and his dick underneath was consuming. Their kissing intensified as Foley became more assertive, sucking at Rod’s tongue and whimpering in agony. He wanted this guy. Oh, hell yeah. Rod was tough as nails, like he was. Been through hell and back, like he’d been. Where was he going to find another man like that? Nowhere. Foley spread his legs wider, reaching towards their groins. He removed Rod’s hands and placed Rod’s cock between his legs. Hint? Rod let out a deep rumbling moan that Foley felt right through his own chest. One last kiss and Foley leaned up, reaching for the rubbers. He tore open the package, rolling the condom on Rod’s thick cock. As Rod watched, Foley used the lubrication on himself and his partner, then he sat on Rod’s dick. As he eased down on it, he stared at Rod’s expression. Rod closed his eyes and opened his lips, his brow knotting as the penetration deepened. Foley rode that hot cock until he could nearly sit against Rod’s thighs. Bracing himself again on his arms, Foley fucked his lover, watching his own cock and balls slap Rod’s ripped torso. “Oh, babe.” Rod showed his teeth in a sensual snarl, reaching to touch Foley as Foley began increasing the speed. Foley’s eyes darted everywhere at once; Rod’s face, his tattoos, his chest, their connection, it was unbelievable. Climax for me you fucking Greek god! Riding Rod like a bucking bronco, Foley caught Rod staring at his dick inside Foley’s ass. Rod ran his hands all over Foley’s upper body before he reached down and cupped Foley’s soft balls and dick. The heat of Rod’s hands made Foley tingle with pleasure.

Rod’s body jerked and his entire torso tightened causing his muscles to expand his silky skin. A glorious moan of ecstasy filled the room and sent the hairs rising on Foley’s arms. When Rod’s cock shivered and throbbed inside him, Foley closed his eyes and sank as deep as he dared to savor it. The pulsating subsided to a dim beat and Foley opened his eyes. The look of contentment and trust was more than reward for him. He rose up, releasing Rod from his body and sat on Rod’s thighs. Rod’s cock was still throbbing, the reserve tip of the condom full. Letting Rod recover, Foley left the room to wash up, returning with a towel. Rod held out the spent condom and Foley took it, giving Rod the cloth. Once they were both cleaned up, Foley dropped down on the bed again, tightly pressed against Rod’s side. Not a word was spoken. Foley felt Rod caressing his hair gently, and had a feeling they were destined for another nap.

Chapter 12 Rod spent the night with Foley. They didn’t do much talking, mostly laying around and watching TV. Maybe it was not having to do anything that Rod was enjoying. Being on a prison schedule and cooped up constantly with men in a dormitory, except for an hour of playing basketball in the courtyard with his surrogate ‘gang’, left him craving time to make his own decisions, do what he wanted to do when he wanted to do it. Peeking at Foley while they watched a racy cable drama called Forever Young, Rod admired Foley’s profile. His features were angular; a strong straight nose, full lips, short cropped sideburns. Amazing, a doctor who was masculine without being too macho/egotistical. Rod had never dated a doctor or a lawyer. He considered himself a professional when he was in the bureau, but a bluecollar one. Maybe it was Rod’s imagination, but he did feel lines of class segregation between careers and incomes. Foley never made him feel less of a man, even with the bullshit he’d been through with the conviction and sentence. Quite the opposite. Foley made Rod feel like a peer. Having a man in his bed all night, one he wanted to touch and fuck, was another bonus Rod had never experienced. His line of work kept him single and mostly alone except for an occasional one night stand. Yeah, he did get his cock sucked in bars. It was an act of sex, just like the ‘acts’ in prison. Meaningless. As the dawn sun began to illuminate the edges of the thick drapery, Rod stroked his morning erection as he stared at Foley sleeping beside him. With one finger, Rod caressed Foley’s jaw. Foley began to stir. He cracked open an eyelid and smiled. Rod slid closer so their bodies met, pushing his thick dick against Foley’s hip. He heard Foley chuckle in a deep sleepy manner. Rod kissed Foley’s shoulder, licking and sucking on his skin. Foley’s smile widened and he began shifting under the sheets. Still lapping at Foley’s arm, Rod noticed the sheet tented and went for it. He encircled Foley’s stiff cock and squeezed.

“Oh, I can so get used to this…” Foley moaned. Rod tugged the sheet down so he could see Foley’s body. While he worked Foley’s cock he watched. When a bead of cum appeared in Foley’s slit, Rod inched his way down the bed. He fell between Foley’s spread legs and used his tongue to wipe the dewy drop. “Rod…” Foley’s hips elevated off the bed and he gripped Rod’s forearms, encouraging him to continue. “Morning blowjob?” Rod ran his lips over the head of Foley’s cock. “Can’t remember my last one of those.” Foley wedged the pillow behind his head for a better view. “You’ll remember this one.” Rod aimed Foley’s cock towards his lips using two fingers on the base. He sank that rigid dick into his mouth until the spongy tip hit his throat. Foley whimpered and his body tensed under him. It was Foley’s aroma that had Rod hooked. Pheromones mingling in his sinuses and making the hairs rise on his neck. And it wasn’t just Foley’s cologne or scented soap, it was his body. That smell drove Rod wild. As he sucked, Rod inhaled Foley like he was an aphrodisiac, reaching between Foley’s thighs to grab hold of his balls. Foley’s hips began moving in time with Rod’s suction. “That feels so fucking good.” Foley gave up a shot of precum as he spoke. Rod savored it on his tongue and quickened his pace for the prize. Foley’s breathing, thrusting and groans began to accelerate. Rod used his saliva to wet his finger and pushed into Foley’s rim. Instantly Foley came, clenching his fingers into Rod’s shoulders and jamming his cock deeper. Hey Hot Rod. Git over here. That’s it, bitch. Jus’ like that. Rod jolted upright and tried to catch his breath, icy panic filling his veins. For a few seconds he was blind and lost in his head. “Wow. Rod. You are unbelievable.” Blinking, Foley’s body coming to view again, Rod dropped on the bed heavily beside him. “Babe.” Foley rolled to face him, cupping his jaw. Foley’s warm smile began to change. “You okay?”

Having no idea he was expressing his temporary nightmare, Rod tried to shake it off. “Yeah. I’m fine.” Foley dug his arm under Rod and drew him against him. Rod felt the embrace with relief. “It’s only been a week.” “I know.” “I’m not saying you’ll ever forget the shit that happened to you.” Rod nodded, knowing Foley felt it. “But it’ll lessen. That’s what my shrink told me, and I know it’s the truth.” “Has it for you?” Rod leaned back to see into Foley’s eyes. “Not yet.” Foley’s smile was ironic. Rod kissed him. “Time for a shower?” “You got it.” The thoughts in his head too many to acknowledge, Rod led the way to the master bathroom, knowing he had an appointment later that day with an attorney. What’s the point? Won’t it just prolong the time I need to heal? ~ After a meal, Rod fell into a deep meditative silence as Foley wiped counters and straightened up the kitchen. A cup of coffee going cold in his hand, Rod noticed Foley perk up as if he heard something. Having been lost in a daydream, Rod hadn’t heard a thing. He watched Foley leave the room. The noise of the front door opening and a man’s voice soon followed. Rod rose up, dumped the cold coffee in the sink and put his cup into the dishwasher. He stood at the threshold of the living room. Jack Larsen was there, a briefcase in his hand, wearing a pair of faded jeans and a dark blue tank top revealing a muscular build. Though he felt apprehensive, border-lining on reluctant, Rod struggled to focus. “Nice Jag. What year is it?” Foley asked. Rod didn’t hear the answer. Ice filled his veins. Why was he doing this? Why was he about to rehash the past to a lawyer when all it would accomplish is nothing? “Hello, Rod.” Jack approached him, hand extended.

Rod snapped back to earth and met him in the middle of the room, clasping his hand. “You want a cup of coffee, Jack?” Foley asked. “Sure. With milk.” Foley left the room. Rod didn’t know if he could go through with this. “Sit down.” Jack gestured to the couch, placing his briefcase aside. Feeling like a guilty felon, Rod dropped to the couch, crossed his arms and legs and felt his heart beating heavily behind his ribs. Foley returned, placing a cup of steaming coffee on the low table. “I’ll make myself scarce.” He gestured to another room. “No.” Rod pointed to a chair. “You sure?” “What don’t you know, Foley?” Foley sat down quietly. Jack sipped his coffee and turned his knees so he was facing Rod. “Look…” Jack put the cup back on the table. “I am one hundred percent behind you. Period.” Rod met Jack’s crystal clear eyes. “I will not judge you. You got that?” At the reassurance, Rod began to unwind his knotted posture. “Just tell me what you’re comfortable with telling me and I’ll see where we can go from there.” Rod met Foley’s gaze. Foley wasn’t smiling, but offering a sympathetic look which Rod interpreted as, What have you got to lose? “I…uh…” Rod didn’t know where to start. “I just finished serving ten years of a twenty year term for manslaughter.” May as well dive in. Jack’s expression was unchanged, but his focus was intense. He picked up his coffee and sipped it, never releasing his gaze from Rod. “I worked undercover for the Violent Crimes Task Force. I was on a drug bust when this old timer, a supervisor, shot at me. This is after months of him hurling gay slurs my way.” Jack stopped drinking his coffee and his eyes grew fierce.

Rod had a feeling when Bob Smith said Jack was a gay activist, he wasn’t kidding. He felt Jack’s rage from where he was sitting a foot away on the couch. Slowly, Jack set his cup back down and couldn’t be more attentive if he tried. Rod assumed the gold band around Jack’s finger indicated he was married. Again Rod made the assumption it was to a man. Shaking off a few distracting thoughts, Rod said, “No one witnessed it. I shot him because I thought he intended to kill me. He took aim at me and fired, and the bullet hit the wall next to my face before I knew what happened.” He rubbed his forehead tiredly. “No one ever witnessed his insults and I never reported them to my peers or my supervisors.” Rod licked his dry lips. “It was his dead corpse and reputation on the bureau against my word. The forensics didn’t do anything for either of us. All it indicated was two shots, one from each gun. No one was there to hear which gun fired first.” Jack shifted, looking enraged. He didn’t speak. “I…I didn’t think at the time that the defense team was inadequate. It was all a haze back then. I was put on admin leave, but only for a day. I was arrested very quickly. No bail was posted because I was an escape risk. I knew how to disappear from my undercover training.” ~ Foley’s stomach felt like a cold knot. Listening to Rod, even though he knew the details, made him sick. It was the same nauseating sensation Foley got when he stood over a soldier with his intestines protruding out of his torso after being caught up in an explosion. A feeling of helplessness. The desire Foley had to fix things, save people, was who he was. He’d been that way ever since he was a child and brought home sick animals to nurse. Though he did not know Jack, Foley could tell this story was making him grind his teeth. Jack’s powerful jaw was twitching like an electric pulse. But Jack didn’t interrupt. Not once. Not only that, but his body language was pure respect and receptive. Foley knew a man like Jack Larsen would do what he could to clear Rod’s name. But was that possible? And could Rod face the challenge if it was a drawn out process?

When Rod stopped talking for a long moment, both Foley and Jack realized he was finished with his tale, or at least as much as he could give Jack at the moment. Jack leaned over his knees to speak more seriously to Rod. Foley found he was mirroring the posture, leaning closer to be a part of it. “I’m going to go look at the public court documents and get all the paperwork on this trial.” Jack’s voice was calm but very determined. “Every detail. And I’m going to try and get the names of your ex-co-workers who were on the scene at the time.” “Good luck.” Rod let out a deep breath. “I’ll get a court order.” Jack glanced at Foley quickly, but gave his attention back to Rod. “Let me tell you something.” Rod sat up. “Someone knew. Someone you worked with either knew this asshole was a homophobe to the extreme, or they were a witness to something he did.” “No. No one did.” “Believe me. Someone did. And I’m going to find that person and make them talk.” “How?” Rod gave a nervous laugh. “Bamboo shoots under the fingernails?” “You let me handle it. I’m not talking coercion, I’m talking interrogation.” “A lawyer who knows how to interrogate?” Rod gave Foley a smile. “How do you think we get the truth from our clients?” Foley noticed Rod take another deep breath and his sweet expression dropped. “Do I want to dig this up, Jack? Do I want to be defeated for a second time?” “That’s your decision. I’m not saying anything is one hundred percent either way. But…” Jack glanced at Foley again before speaking. “I will find someone who knows something. I won’t stop until I do.” “How?” “I have connections. A lot of them.” “In the FBI?” Rod appeared stunned.

Jack didn’t answer. He opened his briefcase and removed paper and a pen. “Write the names of co-workers, acquaintances, and supervisors for me. Next try to remember the dates of any adverse contact you had with this man. Anything will help.” Rod took the paper and pen, resting it on his lap and began scribbling. Foley and Jack met gazes. While Rod wrote, Foley said, “So, you know Mark Richfield?” Jack’s solemn expression morphed into a sly smile. “Intimately.” “Nice!” Foley chuckled. Their conversation wasn’t distracting Rod so far. He was writing like mad. “Didn’t know you were a lefty, Rod.” “I’m ambidextrous.” Rod peeked up, then continued what he was doing. Jack stood with his cup, tilting his head to the kitchen so Rod could write uninterrupted. While Jack leaned against the counter, finishing his coffee, Foley whispered, “You don’t think this will do more harm than good?” “I don’t know Rod’s state of mind. I can’t answer that. What do you think?” “I think he needs closure.” “He needs justice.” Jack checked out of the doorway first. “He did ten years for a crime he never committed. What would you do?” “Fight like a son-of-a-bitch to clear my name.” Foley felt fire in his chest. Jack smiled knowingly, setting the cup in the sink. ~ Rod didn’t think he remember much. But after pages of information were flowing out of him in a continuous stream, Rod realized he knew more about that era in his life than he thought he did. Perhaps now he was clear-headed. Ten years of thinking about it and not thinking about it, the release from prison, finding Foley and having his support, it was all helping him get the details out on paper. It felt cathartic. The yellow legal pad was now a list of dates, names, and locations, information Rod hoped Jack could use, but still…

Rod stopped writing, hearing the low murmur of Foley and Jack’s conversation in the kitchen. He looked over that list of names. Ten years was a long time. He didn’t even know who was still working for the bureau, and who was gone. No one kept in touch with him once he pled guilty. In reality, he didn’t blame his colleagues. Security clearance could be pulled rather quickly for any number of reasons. And associating with a convicted felon wouldn’t look good to the director. Jack peeked in. “How are you doing?” Rod held up the pad. “You tell me.” Both Jack and Foley returned, sitting where they had been previously. Jack took the legal pad and read it. Rod stared at Foley. Foley gave him a slight smile. “Excellent.” Jack flipped back a page. “Can you give me some time to do the background work?” “I’ve got nothing but time.” Jack stood, putting the pad and pen back into his briefcase. “I won’t take up anymore of your afternoon.” “I wrote my cell phone number down.” Rod pointed to the valise in Jack’s hand. “I have one now.” “Good. I’ll be in touch as soon as I have something to tell you.” Rod and Foley walked Jack to the front door. Rod extended his hand. “Thanks, Jack.” “You let me do all the work now. You just keep moving forward. You got that?” Rod smiled in gratitude. “I got it.” “Goodbye, Foley.” Jack waved as he left the house. “Bye, Jack.” Foley closed the door and caught Rod’s eye. “You all right?” “Drained.” “Need a drink?” Rod checked the time. “I suppose three is late enough in the afternoon to not qualify me as an alchy.” “Justified reasons. Don’t even argue with yourself.” Foley asked, “What can I get you?” “What have you got?” Rod followed him to the kitchen, staring at his ass. “Scotch, whiskey, wine, vodka…name it.”

Rod hooked one finger into Foley’s belt loop and stopped him in his tracks. While Foley smiled at him over his shoulder, Rod reeled him in slowly until they were connected at the crotch. “I do want something hard.” Foley’s laugh vibrated Rod’s chest. “Skip the drink.” Rod dug his fingers into Foley’s waistband and led him to the bedroom. What if? What if Jack can find someone to corroborate my story about Goush? Could my name be cleared? Would that wipe out my criminal record and the restrictions on my life to get back into some type of police work? The potential had Rod feeling slightly giddy. From the day he pleaded guilty, to the day he was released, Rod assumed the label as ex-convict, ex-murderer and disgraced agent would be permanent, like his tattoos. Could the stigma of being found guilty be lasered off like one of his tats? Rod sat down on the bed, whirling Foley around so he was standing between his knees. Staring at Foley’s tented pants, Rod opened his zipper and dropped his lower apparel to the floor. Foley ran his fingers through Rod’s hair affectionately as Rod crouched down to take Foley’s semi-hard cock into his mouth. “Holy shit, Rod. Foley arched his back and moaned. Hey, Hot-Rod. Git over here. That’s it, bitch. Jus’ like that. Rod bolted upright, Foley’s engorged cock slapped his abdomen as he did. As if Foley had a feeling something was going on in Rod’s mind that was not pleasant, Foley eased Rod backwards so he was lying on the bed. He opened Rod’s pants and pulled them down to his ankles. When Rod’s soft cock was consumed completely, Rod closed his eyes and unwound his clenched muscles. Foley pushed Rod’s shirt up his torso, exposing his nipples. Rod managed to take the shirt off over his head and throw it off the bed. He noticed Foley admiring his body as he sucked, pinching his small, dark nibs to get them erect. Rod’s cock responded. He had no memory of anyone sucking him in prison, because no one had. Parting his lips and letting Foley take over, Rod heard his soft slurping noise and tiny breaths and whimpers. Rod shook his pants off his legs and spread wide, placing his heels on the edge of the bed. Foley took advantage of the access between Rod’s

thighs and sucked one of his balls into his mouth while sliding his fingers up and down Rod’s wet cock. After making sure his nuts were taken care of, Foley went back to Rod’s cock, using strong suction as he sank it deep into his mouth. Finally a rush of pleasure echoed through Rod’s body. It seemed to take too long for the urge to come to materialize with so much garbage in his head. But Foley knew how to make him forget everything but the sex they shared, while they shared it. All of Foley’s focus was on Rod’s genitals. Both his hands were manipulating his sack, pushing into his rim, squeezing the base of his cock until Rod was edging the climax. And he didn’t want to get close and not come. So he let go. With a thrust of his hips, Rod felt the orgasm disperse from every nerve in his groin to his entire body. He closed his eyes and released a moan of pleasure that echoed in his own ears. The aftershocks continued as Foley milked him strongly, tugging and sucking the head until Rod was gasping for air. While he came around from the strong climax, Foley knelt up beside him, jacking off over Rod’s cock. Rod felt the cream splash his bobbing length and opened his eyes. Through his huffing breath, he said, “I would have helped.” “Next time.” Foley shook a drop off his slit and it landed on Rod’s black pubic hair. Rod reached out to Foley’s shoulders, dragging him upwards. When they were even, Rod cupped the back of Foley’s head and kissed him, tasting his own spunk on Foley’s tongue. As he got lost on Foley’s sensuous kisses, Rod felt Foley massaging the spent cum around his crotch. It was so relaxing, Rod said, “Christ, I could sleep.” “Sleep.” “It’s all I’m doing lately.” “Not all.” Rod met Foley’s light eyes and found his smile. He drew Foley back to his mouth and rolled over to lie on top of him. He’d been so unlucky in the past. Could he finally have paid his dues enough to change that? Time would tell.

Chapter 13 Rod stood on the curb as Foley drove away. Their weekend together left Rod craving more. Once the car was out of sight, Rod pivoted on his boot heels and avoided the crowd of men standing in front of the day labor office, smoking their cigarettes. Miguel’s friendly wave encouraged Rod to give him one back. Rod entered the office seeing new applicants filling out paperwork. The economy hit rock bottom and every day, new men appeared, desperate for work. “The boss here?” Ina beckoned Rod behind the counter. “Yes, go ahead in, Rod.” “Thanks.” Rod swung open the hip-high gate in the counter, using one knuckle to knock on the door. “Bob? Ya there?” “Come in, Rod. Bring a cup of coffee, will ya?” “I got it.” Ina stood away from her computer screen as the other woman who had her back to them, glanced at Rod, giving him a once over. He didn’t know if he ever heard her name. She was younger than Ina and stayed quiet. Rod waited as Ina brought over the cup. He thanked her and entered the office. “Here ya go.” Rod placed the steaming brew on the desk. Bob had a ball cap on his head that had the initials NRA in big letters embroidered in it. “Thanks, Rod. Sit down.” Rod took the seat across from him. “How was your weekend?” Bob shrugged. “The new woman in my life nagged me to do some crapola around the house.” Rod smiled to himself. “Hey. You mentioned you would sell me one of your old pickups. Remember?” “Sure. Which one?” “Which one do you want to sell?” Bob placed his cup down and thought about it. “I need the decent ones for the work, but there’s one that’s not running at the moment. Do you know anything about car repair?” “A little. I can take a look at it.”

“I’ve been meaning to get it checked out, but if it’s going to be a big bill to get running,” Bob said, “It’s not worth it. I don’t want to sell ya a piece of shit.” “How much would you sell it for?” “Couple hundred. It’s a nineteen ninety-eight. Has over two hundred thousand miles on it.” Rod whistled. “Shit. May be more trouble than it’s worth.” “That’s what we need to find out.” Bob drank his coffee and stared at Rod. “You get yourself your own place yet?” “Not yet. I’ll have a down payment for an apartment in a couple weeks. Meanwhile, my kid sister isn’t kicking me out yet.” “I can ask around.” “Thanks. Oh. Listen to this.” Rod leaned over the stacks of files on Bob’s over-loaded desk. “I was out at a Mexican restaurant on Saturday, and you’ll never guess who I met.” “Some celebrity from Tinseltown?” “Better than that. Jack Larsen.” Bob’s eyes widened. “How did you know it was him?” “I was with a friend and we said his name. I was discussing your recommendation.” “Son of a bitch, Rod. It’s fate. You can’t get any luckier than that.” “Maybe. But I’m not a big believer in coincidence.” Bob checked his watch. “Why don’t you find Pedro and Juan and get going. It’s getting late.” Rod stood. Bob handed him the keys to a truck. “Let me show you which one on the lot I was talking about.” “Okay.” Rod allowed Bob to lead the way to the back parking lot. Another group of men were loitering, waiting for him to assign them jobs. “That one there.” Rod noticed a rusted white pickup with the name of the company in blue on the door. Its bed was littered with tree limbs and debris. Bob tossed him a key. “See if she’ll start up. I doubt it.” Catching the keys, Rod walked closer to the rusted hulk. The door creaked loudly as he opened it and the smell of mold and

BO wafted out. He sat on the sagging seat and turned the ignition. He heard a click, nothing else. “Could be a bad battery,” Miguel said. Rod glanced at Miguel who had spoken to him in Spanish. Rod answered in the same language. “If it’s just that, I’m lucky.” Rod pulled the hood latch and hopped out. He reached under the hood, hoisting it up and bracing it. Several men circled around, including Bob. “Told ya she was a mess.” Bob shook his head. “I was about to scrap her.” Rod listened to the men exchange ideas in their first language. He knew Bob didn’t understand, but was glad he did. They were discussing the possible reasons for the truck not starting. When Rod joined in the debate, Bob appeared the most stunned at his bilingual talent. The others just conversed with him easily. “I would try a battery first.” Pedro shook the cables. Rust flaked off the connector bolts. Juan tugged on the fan belt and climbed on the top of the tire to see the entire engine. “Could be minor. We can play with it.” Bob asked, “What the hell you guys talking about?” “They think it’s the battery,” Rod said. “It may be that as well, but I think it’s more than that.” Bob clapped his hands. “Okay, gentlemen. Get going. Rod, keep the keys. If you can get it running, it’s yours.” “Okay. Thanks, boss.” Rod waited for everyone to back up before he slammed the hood. He brushed off his hands and headed to another truck. Once he was behind the wheel, Pedro and Juan joined him on the bench seat. “Do you guys know anything about auto repair?” Rod backed out of the spot and left the lot. “A little. We can do some things to get it going. Are you going to take it if we get it working?” “That’s the idea.” Rod stopped at an intersection. “I just hope it’s minor. Or it’s not going to happen.” “We’ll try.” Juan smiled. “Thanks.” Rod smiled back at the two men. ~

Foley answered his cell phone while he did errands. He was just pulling into a grocery store parking lot. He put the car in park and shut off the ignition. “Hello?” “Dr. Russell?” “Yes.” Foley removed his key from the ignition. “Your transfer to days has been approved. Effective immediately.” “Oh. Does that mean I’m late?” “Yes.” Foley started the car again. “I’m on my way.” “Thank you, Dr. Russell.” “No. Thank you.” Foley put the car in reverse, hanging up the phone. “Christ, give me some notice why don’t ya?” He looked down at his slacks and figured they’d do for one day. His white coat would hide his casual cotton short-sleeved shirt. Hitting the major thoroughfares, Foley now had the same shift pattern as Rod, give or take a few hours. But it was better than a coffee before and after work, or the odd weekend he happened to have off. If this was going to work as a relationship, he had to do what he could to be available. “Am I in a relationship?” Foley asked himself. Part of him was happy to have a partner, the other side of him was anxious. Both he and Rod had so many issues to deal with, how could they possibly manage a steady arrangement? “One day at a time, Foley. One day at a time.” He avoided the traffic and pushed the speed limit to get to the hospital. Once parked in his space in the lot, Foley hopped out of his car and jogged to the main entrance, dialing Rod’s phone number as he did. “Hey,” came Rod’s breathless answer. Foley imagined him digging a ditch or heaving concrete bags from a truck bed. “I got days.” “Great! When do you start?” “Effective immediately. So, today.” “Jesus.” “Yeah. No kidding.” Foley hustled through the lobby to the secured area. “I’ll call you after shift. It’s twelve hours but I should have started at six.” “Okay.”

“Bye.” “See ya.” Foley pocketed his phone and kept up his pace to the doctor’s lounge. He opened his locker and put on his white coat. Without missing a beat, he sprinted down the hall to check his roster. A few employees gave him a smile. “Welcome to days, Dr. Russell.” “Thanks.” He scanned the white marker board for his patients. “It’s twice the load.” A nurse grinned wryly as she scooted by. “Yeah. I’m aware of that.” And he had no idea how this was going to pan out with his sleep which was still interrupted with nightmares. But it had to be better than trying to sleep during the day. And it had to be better with the promise of a loyal man in his life. ~ After his day on the job site, holding a heavy car battery in his arms, Rod heard his mobile ring tone. “Hello?” Rod wondered if this new cell phone was a good or bad idea. “Do you need me to pick you up tonight, Rod?” Serena asked. “No. Go to work. If I can’t get this truck I’m buying started, I’ll bum a ride from Bob or someone.” “Okay.” “Did you hear Foley got transferred to days?” “No. Already?” “Effective immediately.” Rod carried the battery under his free arm. A small group of men were waiting for him at the beat up truck. “Wow. Maybe I should do it too. I need a life.” “You do. Okay, let me go. I’m going to try and get this hunk of rust started so I can buy it.” “Okay. See you some time.” “Bye, Serena.” Rod disconnected the call and used both hands to hoist the battery. While Bob watched, Pedro disconnected the old one, placing it beside the truck. Rod put the new one in its spot. Juan connected the old cables to the new battery.

“It ain’t gonna work.” Bob shook his head. “I know this thing had bigger problems than that.” Miguel said, “Did someone check to see if it has oil?” Juan pulled out the dipstick. “Is low but if it’s not running, there’s no way to be sure.” “Shit.” Rod said, “I wish I’d have known that before we stopped at the auto parts store.” “Look. She’ll still start. We just won’t run her.” Bob pointed to the cab. “Get in, Rod. Try her out.” Rod opened the creaky door and sat behind the wheel. He turned they key. It gave a sad clicking whine. He kept trying. “Hold up,” Bob said, his hand like a stop sign. From the gap under the open hood, Rod could see someone jiggling wires. He heard Bob yell, “Give her a try now.” Taking a deep breath, Rod cranked the ignition. It whirred and sputtered, but the engine turned over. The whole body of the truck shook with the effort of the neglected mechanisms. A cheer rang out. Rod let it run for a minute, then shut it. He hopped out. “I’ll get oil tomorrow.” “Least we know she starts.” Bob closed the hood, brushing off his hands. Rod patted the other men’s backs. “Thanks, guys.” They waved and left the parking lot. Miguel smiled over his shoulder as he joined the other two. “Can you give me a lift home, Bob?” “Sure. But not before we stop for a beer.” “Okay.” Rod figured it wouldn’t be polite if he said otherwise. They hit the same old tavern they had last Friday. Millie got them two beers and brought it to their table. She touched Rod’s shoulder. “Here ya go, Big Rod.” “Thanks, Mil.” Rod held the glass up to her in thanks. “My pleasure, hun.” Once she left, Bob tapped Rod’s mug and they both took a deep swallow of the cold beer. “Oh, that’s good.” Bob wiped his lip and set it down “I met with Jack Larsen Sunday. He’s a decent guy. Thanks for referring him to me.” “Hey. If he can’t help you, no one can.”

“How did you hear about him?” “They did an article about him in the paper months ago. I just remember his name. I think I had an old chum with the same name in the service. It stuck.” “And it said he was gay in the article?” “Yeah. He’s not shy about it. I don’t give a shit who fucks who. You know?” “I wish you were my SAC, Bob.” “Me too, son. You wouldn’t be in the mess you’re in if I were. And hell. I may still be working in law enforcement too.” Rod watched Bob gulp his beer like water. He thought about AA but never imagined saying it. He figured part of Bob’s probation must have included counseling or DUI classes. “Fate,” Rod said. “Nah. Just bad luck. I don’t believe in that fate shit.” “Yeah. Maybe.” Rod took another sip. He wasn’t going to have more than one, but had a feeling Bob would pressure him when he finished. It didn’t matter. Rod decided he wouldn’t do anything he didn’t want to do. He wasn’t in prison any longer. “So tell me what Jack said.” “He thinks someone somewhere knows something.” Rod chuckled. “Long shot if you ask me.” “You never know. Ten years is a long time. Someone not associated with the bureau any longer may not give a crap anymore.” “Still.” Rod looked around. The usual suspects were slouched in the same places as last Friday. “Not one person contacted me once I was locked up. I thought I had made some good friends. I was mistaken.” “You think I associate with cops anymore, Rod?” Bob finished his beer and raised his empty to Millie for a refill. “I take that as a no?” “No. Look, it’s like you’re disgraced, or guilt by association. Think about it. Think about your own career. How fucking easy is it for those morons up top to bring us down?” “Here ya go, Bobby.” Millie placed the fresh beer in front of him, taking his empty. “You okay, Big R?” “Yes. Thanks, Mil.” Rod waited for her to go, bringing his attention back to Bob.

Bob leaned his elbows on the greasy table. “They’d take ya down in a heartbeat. The fuckers leave the front lines and get a promotion. Then suddenly they become the damn judge and jury for all the guys under them.” Rod thought about it. “I wouldn’t desert my friends. I’d stand by them.” “Even if it meant losing your job? No you wouldn’t.” “How could associating with you make a cop lose his job?” “I’m a fucking lowlife drunk now.” Bob gave an ironic laugh. “Ask my ex-wife.” Deliberately changing the topic, Rod said, “So, you got a new girl?” “Yeah. She ain’t no girl. She’s an old lady.” Bob smiled. “But I suppose she’s my old lady.” “I’m happy for you.” “Don’t be. I’m a sucker for a home-cooked meal. She got me living in sin.” Bob laughed. “I bet if feels nice having someone to come home to.” Bob met Rod’s eyes. “It does.” Rod slouched in his chair, nursing his beer. “It’d do you good. Meeting someone.” Rod didn’t answer. He didn’t know what the hell he needed, the list was so long. ~ It was half past six when Rod was dropped off at Serena’s apartment. On the way, Bob had stopped at an auto supply shop so Rod had a box with heavy grade motor oil, and some other fluids the truck might need. They’d deal with it tomorrow. Right now, Rod felt like he was covered in grime—and stunk. He balanced the box on his knee and removed his key. Something caught his eye; a car slowing down. Rod placed the box on the pavement and got a clear look at two men in black, watching him. “You sons of bitches.” He knew exactly who they were. “Yeah. I’m out of jail. What do you think you can do to me, you assholes?” The sedan kept moving, Rod knew memorizing the plate would be a waste of time. They were all fake names and addresses on the computer system.

Once the sensation of dread passed, Rod entered Serena’s home, placing the box of car items on the floor next to the door. He took out his cell phone and a piece of paper, dialing. “Hello?” “Jack? It’s Rod.” Rod pulled back the drape and peeked out. “I was going to call you.” “You started asking questions, right?” “I did.” “I figured.” “What’s going on?” “Two goons are tailing me.” Jack exhaled loudly. “Sorry. I think I ruffled some feathers.” “I have no doubt. They hate attorneys like you.” Rod tried to laugh but he wasn’t happy. He sat down on the recliner and rubbed his gritty forehead. “What did you find out?” “I got a list of names, past and present employees, including all your ex-coworkers and the men and women who were on scene the night of the incident.” “How the fuck did you do that?” “A supreme court judge loves me for the work I do. She and I used to be partners at the same law firm. So, she helps me out if I beg.” “And? That’s it? You got names and now they’re dogging me?” “No. I talked to people already. You were right. It’s like pulling teeth. But…” “But?” “One guy. One guy who’s left the bureau. He didn’t say anything concrete over the phone, but he’s meeting with me.” “He knows something?” Rod sat up. “He knows something.” “He’ll talk?” “I don’t know how much he’ll say. It’ll take some bargaining, but I have a ton of chips.” “Man.” Rod felt his throat tighten. “How much is this going to cost me? Don’t you guys usually get retainers?” “Pro bono.” “Shut up.” Rod smiled but actually felt insulted. “I will pay you.”

“When you get exonerated, promise me you’ll join some GLBT groups and publicize it.” “That’s all it’ll take to call us even?” “That’s it.” “Deal.” “Good man.” Jack seemed to take a moment before he said, “Do the guys tailing you scare you?” “No. They’re not hit men. They’re just looking for info. You know, recon.” “Where you live, where you work…” “Yup. Their whole means of survival is information.” “I get it.” “What they do with it, is what we’ll find out. I may get a visit. I may get a high ranking official stopping by here to tell me to keep my nose clean. You know. No overt threats, just keep out.” “You call me or the local cops and report it. You got that?” “Local cops?” Rod laughed. “That’s an exercise in futility.” “No. It’s not. It’s a beginning to a harassment charge.” Rod stood to look out of the window again. “Jack, buddy, let me tell ya about our government.” “Rod.” “All right. But it’s seriously pointless. I mean, these guys will wiretap and spy to their hearts’ content, all within the law.” “Oh? Suddenly you’re a suspected terrorist?” “If they feel threatened by me in any way, they will do what they need to do.” As cars drove by, Rod studied each occupant. “Please. Document it.” “For you.” “For me.” “All right, Jack. Let me shower. I just got back from work, and I stink.” “Talk to you soon.” Rod disconnected the phone. As he headed to the bathroom it rang in his hand. “Hey, doc.” “At least you didn’t say, ‘What’s up, doc.’” Rod laughed, taking off his clothing as he stood in the bedroom. “You home?”

“At Serena’s. I guess that’s home.” Rod dropped his dirty jeans in a pile on the floor. “I’m off shift. Hungry?” “Yes. And just about to step into the shower.” “Oh? Late job?” “No. I got a ride home with the boss, and that includes a beer at his local tavern.” Rod stood naked in the bathroom, looking at his reflection critically. “Want me to give you an hour?” “Nope. Want you to shower with me.” Rod caught his eyes in the mirror. “On my way!” Rod laughed and tossed the phone on the bed. He heard a car door right outside the window and jolted slightly. Creeping to see outside, Rod couldn’t imagine Foley arriving so quickly. Two men in suits were walking up the path to the door. “You gotta be kidding!” Rod paused, holding his breath. There was a knock, then the bell rang. He grabbed his phone and dialed. “Jack. They’re at my door.” “On my way.” “I’m at my sister’s. Take down the address.” Rod trembled as the door pounding grew louder. “Be there as quick as I can.” Rod tossed the phone on the bed and dragged on a pair of clean blue jeans, dying for a fucking shower. He moved warily to the door and noticed the men were standing off to the side of center, a tactical approach in case Rod opened fire. “What?” Rod called through the door. “FBI. Open up.” “Hold up your IDs.” Rod looked through the peep hole. Two badges were displayed. Under his breath he hissed, “Fuck.” He opened the door. The two men in black suits entered quickly, pushing past him. “I want your names.” Rod crossed his arms over his naked chest. “That’s Agent Doherty, and I’m Riatta.” “What do you want?” “Just paying you a social call.” Riatta began nosing around.

Rod knew the drill. They wanted to arrest him, get him out of the way. They were looking for drugs in plain sight, weapons, anything. “How was your time in jail, Hot Rod?” Doherty grinned. “I can’t ask you if you had good sex. It’s against the rules in prison.” “State your business and get out.” Rod watched them split up, nosing around without touching anything. “We’re just on a social call, Hot Rod. Welcoming you back to society.” “Rod?” At the sound of Foley’s voice, Rod called, “It’s open.” Both agents spun around, obviously prepared for anything, including gunfire. Foley stopped short. Rod said, “Agent Doherty and Riatta, decided to ‘welcome’ me back into society. Isn’t it nice of the FBI, Foley?” “Who are you?” Doherty asked, not appearing happy. “I’m Dr. Foley Russell.” Foley moved closer to Rod, as if either protecting him or allying with him. “Is he your shrink?” Riatta asked in a sarcastic tone. “I’m a friend. I take it neither of you are.” Rod had no idea how to get these guys out of his place without an argument or being arrested for fighting. The noise of a car door slamming preceded a pounding at the door. “Jack?” Rod called out. “Yes.” Jack swung open the door and looked like a pit bull storming in. He waved his business card in front of the men’s faces. “I represent Mr. Reynolds. And if you don’t have a damn good reason for being here, I suggest you get out.” “No problem.” Doherty smiled smugly. “We’ll be seeing you, Hot Rod.” Rod shivered at the name and clenched his teeth. They left and the silence was like a vacuum. Jack shut the door, watching out of the front window. He dialed his cell phone. “Yes. I’d like to report an incident of harassment. I need an officer to come to my location.”

While Jack spoke on the phone, Rod swayed unsteadily from the nerves. Foley held his elbow. “What the fuck is going on?” “Jack made some enquiries. The fuckers didn’t like it.” Rod rubbed his face. “Jesus. I didn’t even take a shower yet. I knew this was a bad idea.” While Jack gave the dispatcher information, he waved at Rod. “Go shower. I’ll wait for the cops.” Foley nodded, escorting Rod to the bedroom. Rod held onto Foley while he dropped his jeans again. He felt sick. Was stirring this up really what he wanted? Couldn’t he just move on and put it behind him? Rod leaned against the wall waiting for the water to heat up. He caught Foley’s light eyes, looking concerned. “Nice, huh?” Rod smiled. “Isn’t this nice?” “We’ll deal with it. Wash up.” Foley nudged Rod to get into the tub. Rod stood under the spray, closing his eyes. ~ When Foley returned to the living room, leaving Rod to get cleaned up, he found Jack standing at the front door, staring out. “Looks like you made some waves.” Jack glanced back at Foley. “I did. Good ones. Sometimes you have to go through hell to get through the other side.” Foley stood next to Jack so he could speak quietly. “I don’t know how much of this shit Rod can take.” “I know. I’m going to shield him as much as possible.” “How?” “This is going to be a harassment report. I’m taking it directly to a judge I know personally.” “A judge? A county judge?” “No. State supreme court.” “Which judge do you know?” “Her Honor Jennifer Bernstein. We used to be law partners.” “Is she sympathetic?” Jack gave Foley a wry smile. “Hell yeah. She’ll be furious. I already got the court order through her for the list of names from the bureau. She’s fearless.” Foley spotted a patrol car pull up. “Fucking perfect.” Jack grinned broadly.

“You know them?” “Yup.” Jack opened the door wide. “When we saw your name as the complainant, Larsen, we figured Richfield was in trouble.” One of the cops extended his hand. “Officer Jeff Chandler, come in. Hey, Mickey, good to see you two again.” Foley was stunned when the men kissed each other on the cheek. “Gay LA cops?” “Shh!” The blond put his finger to his lips. “That’s a secret.” When Foley noticed the two officers look behind him, he spun around. Rod was standing in the doorway in a sleeveless tshirt and tight jeans, looking like a rock star. Jack said, “Rod Reynolds, Officers Jeff Chandler and Mickey Stanton are close friends of mine. Why don’t you all go into the kitchen so they can document what’s going on. Just tell them what happened today.” Rod nodded, walking into the kitchen. Foley noticed the blond cop wink at Jack sweetly, then the three of them vanished into the kitchen. “You do have connections, Jack.” “Loads of them. You get it from years of fighting ignorance, and lots of great friends.” Before they joined the other men, Foley said, “Jack, seriously, I’m worried Rod won’t be able to go through all this again.” “Don’t doubt his strength. The guy is tough as nails.” Foley met Jack’s eyes. “I hope you’re right.” “Trust me.” ~ “…no. I never met either of them before.” Rod felt Foley behind him. When Foley’s hands rested on Rod’s shoulders, Rod held one in place. Jack leaned against the doorframe as Officer Chandler wrote and Officer Stanton did the interview. “I thought LAPD was bad.” Mickey shook his head. “Don’t ask don’t tell,” Jeff said sarcastically. “It’s all the same. Military, paramilitary. Kill em but don’t fuck em.” Rod chuckled, smiling up at Foley. Foley winked. “Right, Mr. Larsen.” Jeff said, “What else do you need?”

“Let’s take a look.” Jack reached out for the paper. While Jack read, Rod scooted out his chair. Since there were only three seats at the kitchen table, he patted his lap. At Foley’s reluctance, Rod said, “Don’t be shy, Doctor.” “Doctor?” Jeff perked up. “Of what?” Mickey asked. Foley sat on Rod’s lap. “I work over at Good Sam.” “He served in Iraq,” Rod said, “Patching up our guys on the front lines.” “You’re my hero.” Mickey smiled. “This looks good.” Jack put the statement in front of Rod, handing him a pen. “Sign and date it.” Rod did. “Okay. I have a feeling this will be the first one of many.” Jack handed the paperwork to Jeff. “Don’t say that.” Foley shook his head. Rod said, “He’s right, Foley. They’ll stalk me.” “Until they find some dirt.” Jeff leaned his elbows on the table. “Keep your nose clean.” Mickey touched the tip of his own symbolically. “I will. Thanks, guys.” The two brawny cops stood up, reaching out their hand. “Sorry to meet like this.” Foley got off of Rod’s lap, and Rod rose to his feet, shaking each of the cop’s hands. “No kidding.” Jack walked them to the door. All of them paused to give the area outside a complete scan first. Jeff said, “They’re better at surveillance than we are.” “I know.” Rod was well aware of the difference in departments and resources. Mickey and Jeff waved, walking to their patrol car. Jack inhaled deeply before he spoke, looking tired. “No matter how trivial, Rod, you call either me or the cops and make a report. You got it?” “I do. But I have no idea how this is going to help me.” “Will you trust me?” Jack patted Rod’s cheek playfully. “See ya. Go have a nice dinner.”

“Bye, Jack. Thanks.” Rod and Foley watched him leave in his Jaguar. “You must be starved.” Foley petted Rod’s hair. “Over-hungry. Over-tired.” Rod shut the door. “I’ll call for pizza.” “Good idea.” Rod followed him back to the kitchen. “How was your first day on days?” “A fucking madhouse.” Foley opened the yellow pages, leafing through it. “Sorry to make you do that, babe.” “Make me do that?” Foley blinked. Rod felt his cheeks grow warm. “Is that what you think?” “No. Order a pizza.” Rod handed him the phone. Foley dialed, shaking his head admonishingly at Rod. “Hello. I’d like to order a pizza to be delivered.” Rod looked down, almost self-consciously. While he spoke on the phone, Foley had cupped his palm over Rod’s crotch, massaging it. “Lots of sausage and pepperoni.” Foley made a face of orgasm, increasing his fondling. Rod laughed, parting his feet so Foley had better access. “Thirty minutes. Yeah, that’ll work. Thanks.” Foley hung up, placed the phone on the table and pressed Rod backwards so he was against the wall. When their lips met, Rod felt his desire for Foley ignite. He gripped Foley’s upper arms and sucked on Foley’s tongue and lips. All the frustration was channeling to a sexual hunger Rod wanted sated. Foley parted from his lips. “Thirty minutes. Let’s go.” He snatched Rod’s fingers and raced with him to the bedroom, taking off his clothing as they went. Rod stripped off his jeans and dove on top of Foley, pinning him to the bed. They squirmed against each other, whimpering seductively as Rod grew hotter than hell. “Did you buy rubbers?” Foley asked, breathless. “Yeah.” Rod dug blindly into his nightstand. He sat on his heels, tossed Foley the gel and rolled on a condom. Foley spread

his legs, greasing his own ass up while he grinned wickedly at Rod. Rod tugged on his sheathed cock a few times in excitement. Foley put the tube aside and reached out his arms in invitation. “Doggie style?” Rod asked shyly. Foley flipped over, getting on his hands and knees. Before he penetrated, Rod enjoyed the view, reaching between Foley’s thighs to draw his dick backwards and taking in the sight of his ass and balls as he tugged on it. “If you weren’t greased up I’d rim that baby for an hour.” Foley laughed. “We got a half hour, remember?” Rod released Foley’s genitals and scooted closer, with his left hand he held the base of his dick, pushing in Foley’s ass, with his right, he caressed Foley’s hip, relaxing him. Inch by inch, Rod made his way to the hilt. Once that tight heat engulfed him he said, “Christ, I think I love you.” He got a chuckle out of Foley, like it was said as a silly joke. Rod wasn’t sure it was. He thrust in and closed his eyes. “That feels so good.” “Come for me.” Rod opened his eyes, loving the sight of their bodies united. He began a gentle rhythm until the intensity of the need took over. The sound of his pelvis slapping against Foley’s ass was as stimulating as the lovemaking was. “Fol…” Rod felt it rushing up his spine and his dick go rigid. “That’s it, babe.” Foley kept up the pace, ramming backwards for deep penetration. Rod grabbed Foley’s waist and dug in as he came, feeling his cock throbbing deeply inside Foley’s hot hole. He grunted at the pleasure, a drop of sweat running down his forehead. He ignored the tickling sensation until the orgasm subsided, then he swiped at it with the back of his hand. Before Foley could react, Rod pulled out, pushing Foley onto his back, then dove face first between his thighs. Foley gasped at the abruptness, then splayed out like a rag doll. Rod engulfed Foley’s semi-hard cock into his mouth and sucked like he never sucked before. Like he wanted to. Foley’s

scent was so intoxicating, it kept the bad memories at bay. Using the slick gel already coating Foley’s groin, Rod slid his fingers all around Foley’s balls and rim, rubbing the thick root of his cock. “Aaah! Fuck!” Foley levitated off the mattress and Rod tasted his cum. His mouth filled as he swallowed, both of them moaning in delirium. The doorbell rang. Foley started laughing, but he was breathless and still reeling from the aftershocks. Rod took one or two more deep slurps of Foley’s dick and sat up, taking off the spent condom that still clung to his dick, and tossing it on the floor. The doorbell rang again. “Coming!” Foley yelled, laughing so hard he was holding his chest and gasping for air. “That was a quick half hour!” Rod jumped into his jeans and wiped his hands on his thighs. He searched for his wallet and hustled to the door, opening it. “Hey, dude.” A young blond-surfer-type guy with a name tag that read ‘Vic’ on his shirt, held up a pizza box. “Fifteen-seventy five.” Rod took the box, giving the young man a twenty. The young man took it, leaning towards Rod for a curious sniff and it didn’t appear he was trying to smell the pepperoni pizza. “Keep the change.” Rod leaned back, wondering how much he reeked like sex. “Nice tats, dude.” Rod glanced at his naked chest. “Thanks.” “You in films? You know…” ‘Vic’ licked his top lip. “No.” Rod found this funny and began to smile. “You should be. I know someone…you know, if…” “I’ll keep it in mind.” Rod began closing the door. As Vic walked away, he said, “You should be. Dude, you’re awesome.” Hearing laughter behind him, Rod spun around to see Foley doubled over, obviously overhearing the conversation.

Rod shook his head and placed the pizza box on the kitchen table. “Dude!” Foley roared with hilarity. “Shut up.” Rod laughed with him, taking plates out of the cabinet. Then he felt warm hands surround his chest, pinching his nipples. In his ear, Foley whispered, “Nice tats. You should be in films.” Rod felt Foley’s tongue run up his neck to his earlobe. Chills covered Rod’s skin. “I’d make better money in gay porn than on this day labor job.” Foley flipped Rod around so they were nose to nose. The smile had left Foley’s face. “You’ll be fine. Please don’t worry.” As a knot of nerves made its way into Rod’s gut, he nodded to cover his fear, continuing to set the table after he washed his hands.

Chapter 14 Rod sat up in bed like a shot. His heart pumped blood through his veins and his adrenalin dumped. Holding his breath, listening, he heard the sound of keys jingling and the front door closing. He let out a long sigh and checked the time. Serena was coming home from her shift. He slipped on a pair of jeans that were still lying nearby the bed, and poked his head out of his door. “Hi.” She looked dead on her feet. He approached her as she set her purse down and took off her shoes. “Sorry I woke you.” Serena unraveled her hair from its clip and massaged her scalp. “What can I get you?” “Nothing. I’m just going to wash up and go to bed.” She began heading down the hall, stopping and asking, “You get that truck started? I didn’t see it parked out front.” “We got it started, but I haven’t actually gotten it yet.” “You need a loan?” “No. The boss is just going to give it to me.” “Oh.” She looked surprised. “It’s a piece of shit, Serena. I doubt it’s worth much more than scrap metal.” Her expression changed to understanding. “Take my car.” “You sure you don’t need it? This is absurd.” “I can’t think at the moment. Let me sleep.” “Sorry.” He watched her walk down the hall, closing herself into her room. Rod felt like the worst pain in the ass for his imposition on his sister, on Foley, on everyone. He headed back to his bedroom, stripped off his jeans and got back into bed. He didn’t sleep. He had to be at work in two hours so he just stared at the ceiling. ~ Rod hated himself for it, but instead of taking his sister’s car to work, he called Bob. Bob swung by Serena’s house on his way. Rod put all the items he had purchased to get the old pickup

in working order into the bed of Bob’s truck and climbed in the passenger’s side. “Sorry, boss. I feel like shit asking you for a ride.” “Don’t worry about it. Hopefully by today you’ll have your own set of wheels.” Rod stayed quiet, intending on calling his insurance company to fax over an insurance card to the work address so he didn’t drive home without it. He knew he’d be stopped and in trouble if he didn’t have everything legal. “I said, don’t worry about it.” Bob nudged Rod playfully as if he sensed Rod still fretting. Rod tried to make light of it, but continued to feel like shit. He’d never been dependant on anyone but the guys he worked with. The ones who watched his back on dangerous calls. And even they ended up stabbing him in the back instead of protecting his ass when it came to the bottom line. Bob pulled up next to the old pickup behind the building. Rod climbed out and reached for the motor oil and other fluids. When he looked up he noticed his three friends heading their way. “We get her going today, yes?” Miguel’s dark eyes shined in the sunlight. “With some luck.” Rod placed the box on the ground and opened the driver’s door, popping the hood. Pedro and Juan raised it, propping it open. Rod picked up a can and stood by as Juan opened the oil cap. One by one the quarts were poured as Miguel filled the radiator and washer fluid receptacles. “Start her up. We got to get going, boys.” Bob gestured for Rod to get moving. Rod quickly sat in the front seat and turned the key. It started right away and the whining sound he originally heard lessened. He shut the motor and got out, closing the door. “Good enough.” Rod picked up all the empty containers, throwing them into the dumpster behind the building. “Get going.” Bob waved to them. “Let me just wash my hands.” Rod jogged into the lobby, greeting the two women behind the counter before he headed to

the sink. He scrubbed the grime off his hands and noticed a black streak of oil on his cheek. After cleaning up, Rod met Pedro and Juan at their usual transportation work truck. “Same site?” Rod asked as Bob handed him the keys. “Two more days. Then you move on.” “Okay.” Rod closed the door and put his seat belt on. The moment he was out on the main road, a sedan pulled up behind him. “Uh, are you guys both US citizens or have green cards?” he asked in Spanish. Pedro and Juan said yes. Pedro looked behind him out the back window. “Police?” “FBI.” “No!” Juan appeared very nervous. “Don’t worry. It’s me they want, not you two.” “Are you wanted?” Juan asked. “No. But they don’t give a shit.” He took out his phone and handed it to Juan. “Look through my list of names and dial Jack.” “Okay.” Juan pushed the buttons on the phone. “Speak English. I have no idea if he can understand Spanish.” Juan nodded, putting the phone to his ear. “What should I tell him?” “Tell him you’re with me and we’re being followed.” “Okay.” Rod drove one mile under the speed limit, making sure he used his turn signals and tried not to sweat. “This is unfucking real.” ~ Foley parked in the reserved space for medical personnel. He felt the hair prickle on the back of his neck and spun around to look out of the rear window of his car. A dark sedan moved slowly behind him, two men inside in suits stared at him. “Now you’re playing this game with me?” He laughed under his breath. “Yeah. You do that. See what you can find, assholes.” He climbed out and stared right at the driver. It wasn’t the same two men who were at Serena’s place last night. They gave Foley a good once over before they left.

Foley restrained the urge to shout, ‘Fuck You!’ after they’d left and just ground his jaw in irritation. “Think you can intimidate me?” Foley muttered under his breath. “I don’t think so, gentlemen. Not after what I’ve been through you can’t.” Foley shook his head and kept heading to the main entrance of the hospital. ~ After work, Rod stood with his cell phone to his ear near Ina’s desk. “Can you fax me proof of insurance? I need to have it this afternoon.” Rod met Ina’s matronly smile as she listened to his conversation. “I’ll do it now. Tell me if it comes through,” the woman at the other end of the phone line said. “Okay.” He stared at the machine. It began to make noise. Ina said, “Something’s coming through.” Bob exited his office and walked closer. “You got it together or you need a lift?” “I think I’m okay.” Rod pointed to the fax machine. “If that’s my proof of insurance, I’m good to go.” The fax machine became the center of attention for the two women, Bob and Rod. Soon Rod could see the actual voucher come through. “You’re a doll. Thank you,” he said to his insurance rep. “My pleasure. That will last for thirty days and you’ll get one in the mail before that expires.” “Great. Thanks again.” Rod disconnected the line and Ina handed him the page. “Thank you, Ina.” “My pleasure, Rod.” He read all of the information to make sure it was indeed proof of insurance and not just an application form. Bob’s hand rested on his shoulder. “You good, Big R?” Rod gave him a pained look. “Yes, Millie.” Ina began laughing and the shy woman, whose name Rod still didn’t know, giggled into her hand. “Good. See you tomorrow.” Bob waved as he left. “Was that nickname from Millie over at the tavern?” Ina asked, obviously already knowing. “Yes. It better not stick. I’ve had enough nicknames for one lifetime.” He folded the paper up and placed it into his wallet.

“I like it.” The shy girl blushed. “I’m sorry. I should know your name, but I don’t.” Rod felt like an idiot but never recalled being introduced to her. “Conchita.” Rod gave her a nice smile. “I should know that.” “She’s single, Big R.” Ina grinned mischievously. “Now you’re embarrassing me.” Rod winked and waved at both ladies, headed to his new/rusty truck. A few men were still lingering, smoking cigarettes behind the office. He met Miguel’s gaze. “You need a ride?” Rod asked in Spanish. Without a moment’s hesitation, Miguel raced towards the passenger’s side of the truck. Once they were both inside, Rod said in a teasing tone, “You realize I only asked you in case this rig breaks down. I’ll need you to push it.” “I’m not the one who is strong.” Miguel boldly squeezed Rod’s biceps. “Sweetheart,” Rod replied softly, “I have a boyfriend. I’m sorry.” Miguel smiled bravely. “It’s okay. I can admire you from afar.” Rod started the truck and let it run for a moment before he backed up. The other men in the lot were watching their departure. “Do they know you’re gay, Miguel?” “They suspect, but I don’t announce my preference.” “Probably best that way. But if you ever get harassed, tell someone. Believe me. You have to document it.” Miguel chuckled under his breath. Before they had driven three blocks a black SUV with a red and blue light on its dash signaled them to stop. Suddenly Rod feared for Miguel. “Are you legal, hun?” Miguel spun around to look behind him. He fumbled with his wallet, searching for paperwork. “Please tell me you are.” Rod pulled over, keeping the truck idling. “Yes. Yes. I don’t know if my papers are here.” Rod could see him tremble. He wrapped his hand around Miguel’s forearm to calm him.

“Isn’t he a little young for you, Hot Rod?” Rod cringed and looked at the man standing at his driver’s window. “What do you want, Riatta?” “Your license, registration and insurance card, and his immigration paperwork.” “What’s the reason for the stop?” “Reason? I don’t need no stinkin’ reason.” Rod noticed Doherty standing at the passenger’s side watching poor Miguel. After taking out his wallet, Rod said, “My license, my insurance, and the title, signed over to me.” “Is this it?” Miguel asked Rod in Spanish, his voice quivering with fear. Rod took the ragged paper from Miguel. “Yes. Just hand it to the ‘nice’ man.” Doherty sneered as he took it. “Stay put, Hot Rod. No quick moves.” Shut up! was just behind Rod’s clenched teeth. He watched through his side and rear view mirrors as the two men returned to their car to radio in all the information to make sure it was legit. Miguel was shaking in spasms. “You’ll be okay.” Rod touched his arm again. “Why didn’t you tell me this would happen?” Rod didn’t reply. He removed his cell phone and called Jack. Again. “No,” Jack said as he answered. “Yes. They have me pulled over on Wilshire.” Rod kept his eyes on the two agents. “Son of a bitch, Rod!” “I warned you, Jack. They want me locked up again. They don’t want this story to come out.” “Did you do anything to get arrested or cited for?” “Not unless they invent something.” “Keep me on the phone. Tell them it’s me. Where are they right now?” “Just getting out of their car coming back this way.” Rod watched Riatta approach his door. “Put that down,” Riatta said, “Pointing at the phone.”

“It’s my attorney. Jack Larsen. Remember him?” Rod positioned the phone so Jack could hear the conversation. “Here’s your paperwork.” Rod took it. He looked back at Doherty as he stood by Miguel. “What about him?” “You’re lucky he’s eighteen or guess what?” Riatta grinned. “Back in the pen for more illicit sex with your man Trick.” Rod couldn’t believe the information they had, but then again, of course he could. Once more the thoughts in his head gave him the urge to argue. Since when is it illegal to give someone under eighteen a lift home? But he shut up. “See you again soon!” Riatta backed up and returned to his vehicle. “He gone?” Jack asked. “Yes. Did you hear any of it?” “All of it. I have it on tape.” Rod waited until the SUV drove away. Miguel was still a trembling mess as he put his paperwork back into his wallet. Taking a deep breath, Rod said, “Jack. I can’t deal with this.” “I was going to call you.” Rod rubbed his forehead, feeling the day’s grit on it. “And?” “Goush had a dirty little secret, Rod. One he was petrified of anyone finding out.” “That he was a closet gay? What else is new?” “Nope. He liked kiddie porn. I’m in the process of getting his old computer from his widow.” Rod blinked. “You still there?” “You found someone who knew that? For a fact?” “Not a fact. That’s what the warrant is for.” “Can I go home please?” Miguel sounded terrified. “Yes.” Rod spoke into the phone, “Let me call you back.” “Okay. See ya.” Rod put the phone in the cup holder and made sure he obeyed every traffic law as he was given directions by Miguel. “I’m sorry, Miguel.” “Why did they do that to you?” “Long story.”

They stayed silent the rest of the drive. Rod figured after that little incident, Miguel must be very glad he didn’t have anything to do with him. No one needed this kind of trouble. ~ Just as he stepped out of the shower, Rod heard his mobile ringtone. He hustled to it and answered it. “Hey.” “Hi, babe. How are you?” Foley asked. Rod sat on the bed, pushing his wet hair off his face. “Dealing with it.” “Those morons followed me to and from work.” Rod felt his stomach tighten. “Did they stop you?” “No. They just wanted to make sure I knew I was under scrutiny.” “I’m sorry.” “It’s not your fault.” Rod didn’t answer, looking down at the damp towel covering his crotch. “Are you too out of it for dinner?” “No. On the contrary. If I sit here all night on my own, I’ll go nuts thinking about it.” “I’m on my way with dinner and a bottle.” “I owe you.” “You do.” Rod heard the smile in his voice. He disconnected the call and returned to the bathroom to finish getting ready for Foley. ~ Foley had plastic bag with their sushi dinner and a bottle of booze beside him on the seat. He caught glimpses of black sedans come and go behind him, but didn’t want it to make him paranoid. Putting it into perspective, what they were doing wasn’t exactly as stressful as dealing with IEDs and gunfire during his tour in Iraq. They’d have to do better than that to ruffle him. He parked in Rod’s sister’s driveway and noticed a rusted old pickup truck. For some reason it made him smile. The truck may be old, but it certainly had character. ‘Day-Jobs’ was decaled in blue on the side of the door. My man is out of prison and in just over a week, he’s got a job, a truck, and a partner. Not bad, lover, talk about resilient.

Foley picked up the packages from the seat beside him and climbed out of the car. He caught a dark vehicle with two men in suits cruise by as he did. “Fuck you!” he couldn’t resist giving them a piece of his mind. As he approached the front door, he read Rod’s smirking grin. “You tell em, doc.” “Assholes.” Rod opened the door for him and allowed Foley to pass before he closed and locked it. “Jack found something incriminating against Goush. I think it’s ruffling feathers at the bureau.” Rod followed Foley to the kitchen. Foley placed all the items he was holding on the table, taking out trays of sushi and the rice wine. “Do you know what Jack found?” “He suspects child pornography.” Foley stopped short and stared at Rod. They exchanged silent thoughts, then Foley asked, “What the hell’s that got to do with you?” “I really don’t know. Maybe he thought outing me, harassing me, would keep all the eyes off him.” “If that’s the case, why didn’t he taunt you in front of someone? How do you ‘out’ a man you don’t expose?” Foley picked up the saki. “You mind it warm?” “Isn’t that the way you’re supposed to drink it?” “Yup.” Foley opened a few cabinets and located a pot and filled it with water, setting the saki bottle in it and turning on the electric coil on the stovetop. “But…I still don’t get why the shooting in the alley was part of that scenario. Wouldn’t an incident like that put both of you under scrutiny?” Rod retrieved plates from the cabinet. “That was my next assignment.” “Huh?” Foley tilted his head. “I was going to head the task force on raids for child pornography.” Rod opened the plastic trays of food. “He knew that?” “Everyone knows everything. We pretend we’re all stupid to keep everyone off our backs.” “But taking you out would only bring another agent to replace you.”

Rod shrugged. “I must have intimidated him somehow.” “Because you were good at what you do.” Foley closed the gap between them, draping his arms over Rod’s shoulders. “A lot of guys are at the bureau.” Rod held Foley’s waist. “He must have thought you may have already had a hunch about him.” “I didn’t. I think if he never began his harassment of me in the first place, the man never even would have crossed my mind. I mean, in any manner.” The heat of Rod’s crotch on his made Foley crave a kiss. Just as he was leaning towards Rod’s lips, a ringtone went off somewhere in the house. Rod pecked Foley’s lips. “That’s either Jack or Serena.” Foley released him, watching him sprint out of the room. He checked on the saki, wondering what the real connection was between Goush’s fetish and Rod. “I bet he was attracted to you, you gorgeous stud. And jealous to the point of homicide because ‘he never would have crossed your mind, in any manner’. Oh, the irony.” ~ “Jack.” Rod caught his breath from his sprint to the bedroom and walked back to where Foley was. “Can you talk?” “I’m home. Yes.” Rod stood at the doorway of the kitchen. Foley met his eyes, looking concerned. “You know an agent named Winfred?” “Effy?” Rod nodded. “Yeah. I know him.” “He’s left the bureau and is working with local law enforcement. I have to tell ya, Rod. The guy knows everything about Goush. Winfred was badgered so much by the prick, he quit and got a job with LAPD.” Rod covered his eyes and sat down heavily. Foley pulled up the chair beside him and rubbed Rod’s thigh. “What did Goush do to Effy?” “Same shit. Called him a cocksucker, roughed him up a few times physically, scared the crap out of him with threats. Goush said he was going to out Winfred or tell people Winfred made sexual propositions, which Goush said were disgusting. Winfred thought he was going to get written up or worse, so he left.”

Rod liked Effy Winfred. He was a decent guy. Quiet, unassuming. But a good man. “So? What’s next?” “There’s a party serving a warrant at Goush’s place right now, taking his computer and searching the address.” “I feel bad for his widow. Bet she’s the type who doesn’t know shit.” “Nothing we can do about it.” Foley tapped Rod. “Ask him what the hell kiddie porn has to do with harassing you.” “Jack, Foley wants to know what this child pornography business has to do with the shooting. Is it all about diversion? Making everyone look in a different direction?” Rod pushed the speaker button on the phone so Foley could hear Jack’s answer. Jack said, “I think there’s more to it. But I need to get Winfred into my office for a long chat once this search warrant is completed.” “Can I talk to him?” Rod asked. “I don’t think he’ll have a problem with that.” “Does he know I did time in prison because of killing Goush?” Rod held Foley’s hand. “Yes. He knows. He knows everything that happened to you. He said it killed him but he felt like it would be his word against the entire staff. I think the guy feels like complete shit, Rod.” Again Rod nodded, staring into Foley’s blue eyes. “Okay, Jack.” “I’m going to call Jennifer the minute I get off the phone with you.” “Jennifer?” “Her Honor Judge Bernstein.” “Right.” “I’ve now got a list of the harassment the bureau is putting you through.” “Me and Foley.” “And Foley?” Taking it off speaker phone, Rod held out the phone to Foley. “Tell Jack what they did to you today.” Foley took the phone. “Jack?” Rod stood and shut off the burner under the saki, feeling the bottle. He searched through his sister’s cabinets but could only

find shot glasses, no saki set. He poured two and gulped his down, setting the second one in front of Foley as he explained his ordeal. “Here, Rod.” Foley handed him back the phone. Rod took it, caressing Foley’s hair as he stood beside his chair. “You got that too, Jack?” “Unbelievable.” “They’re not good enemies to have.” “Jesus. Jennifer is going to throw a fit. Let me tell her. Believe me, she’ll put a stop to it.” Rod chuckled. “I’d love to meet this judge.” “She’d love to meet you. I’ll arrange it.” “Thank you, Jack.” “Don’t thank me yet. We’re getting there, but we’re not there yet.” “But for the first time since this began, I feel some vindication. I swear, I felt like everyone viewed me as a murdering rat who could kill one of their own.” “We know the truth. And soon so will everyone else. When your name is cleared I want it on the headline news.” Rod laughed and it caught Foley’s attention as he seemed to daydream off, the shot glass near his lips. “Let me go. My sushi is getting warm and my saki is getting cold.” Rod smiled at Foley. Foley tossed the shot down his throat and set the glass aside. Jack said, “Talk to you soon.” Rod tossed the phone on the table and cupped Foley’s head in his hands. “You do realize you are going to be cleared of this crap.” Foley held Rod’s hips tightly. “When it happens, I’ll believe it.” Foley kissed Rod’s zipper flap, chewing the material of his jeans. “Warm sushi, cold saki?” Foley said as a joke. “How about a warm BJ?” “You got it.” Foley popped open Rod’s button and zipper, and shifted on the chair. Widening his stance, Rod watched Foley hunt him down and flip him out. When Foley engulfed Rod’s soft cock into his mouth the heat was stimulating. He kept his gaze on Foley,

seeing his sucking change as Rod’s cock grew too large to engulf entirely. Foley opened his eyes, running his hand under Rod’s shirt, then tugged on it, indicating for Rod to take it off. Rod did, resting it over the back of a chair. Seeing Foley’s admiration, Foley’s hands running over his chest and low abdomen, Rod already felt vindicated. He had to remember to thank Serena. She had given him the best gift of all. Dr. Russell. With the sensations reaching a crescendo, Rod arched his back, staring at Foley’s mouth as it surrounded the thickness of his engorged cock. “I’m there.” Foley moaned and began sucking even harder, faster. Rod came, closing his eyes and feeling his body shake as it surrendered. Foley held Rod’s cock, lapping at it from the base to the slit as he caught his breath. “Christ, you’re fantastic.” Foley focused on Rod’s cock, drying his saliva from it. Slowly Rod sank to his knees, parting Foley’s legs as he knelt between them. Foley slunk back, splaying out for his turn. Rod untucked Foley’s stiff erection from his pant leg and engulfed it, giving as good as he got. He kept inhaling Foley’s scent. That way even with his eyes closed, he knew the nightmares could be kept at bay. And the more he was with Foley, the less the meaningless blowjobs he did in prison meant or held any power over him. Sex with someone you were falling in love with made everything else pale in comparison. Foley stroked Rod’s hair, urging him to suck deeply. Rod complied, squeezing Foley’s thighs as he increased his speed, his mouth and tongue doing all the work. “Yes.” Rod felt Foley’s cock pulsate and tasted pre-cum. He whimpered at the yearning for Foley to come in his mouth. Foley clamped his hands onto Rod’s shoulders and tightened his grip. At that moment thick cream shot into Rod’s mouth. Rod swallowed him down, moaning right along with Foley’s lovesick sounds.

After taking all that he could from Foley, milking him dry, Rod rested his cheek against Foley’s cock, which still throbbed gently. “I’m falling for you, Rod.” Rod jerked his head up to meet Foley’s gaze. At first Foley appeared apprehensive, but soon his expression changed to adoration. He caressed Rod’s cheek lightly. Rod had never told anyone he loved them. That was a big leap of faith and trust. It was there on his tongue, along with the taste of Foley’s spunk. He decided to show him instead. Rod climbed over Foley’s lap and met his lips. He straddled Foley’s legs and held him close, devouring his mouth as Foley dug his hands into Rod’s hair, deepening the scorching kiss. “You got me, doc. Hook, line and sinker.” Rod parted to stare into Foley’s light eyes. Foley gave him a loving smile. “I’m glad.”

Chapter 15 When Rod told Bob he needed a couple of hours off that morning, Bob not only said it was no problem, but offered to drive him. But now that Rod had a working set of wheels, he declined politely. Working day labor, the time off cost him, not anyone else, but still, at least Bob was always thinking of his best interest and not totally self-absorbed, like most employers. Rod paid the fee for parking and oddly enough, knew he wasn’t being watched, followed, spied on, videotaped, nothing. No ominous sedans were lurking, no men in dark suits lingering. This judge must be something else. Rod smiled. Nice to have allies in high places for a change. He wore a suit. Rod felt the meeting was official in nature, so instinct led him to wear one. Though it was purchased off the rack, he still felt more himself in it. Anything was better than prison orange. The interior of the high-rise office building was cold by comparison to the outdoor seventy degrees. He rode the elevator up and arrived at his floor. As he entered the lobby he noticed a desk with a receptionist wearing a headset, a minimalist waiting area with designer abstract prints on the wall and the latest Wall Street Journal and New York and LA Times on the side table. Behind the receptionist in bold metallic print was the words; Larsen, Knight, and Associates, Attorneys at Law. “May I help you?” “Yes. My name is Rod Reynolds. I have an appointment with Jack Larsen.” “Have a seat, Mr. Reynolds. I’ll let him know you’re here.” “Thank you.” The minute Rod turned around, about to sit on the chair and pick up one of the newspapers, someone else entered the room. “Rod.” “Effy.” Rod thought he looked older and worn out. But ten years did that to a man. God knew what he appeared to look like after his decade of hell. Rod extended his hand. Effy took it. “I’m sorry.”

“Look. I understand. I do.” Rod broke contact and stuffed his hands into his pockets. “No. It was wrong. I can’t believe what they did to you.” “Gentlemen?” Rod looked over his shoulder. The receptionist was beckoning them inside the office. Rod gently touched Effy’s arm, allowing him to go first. He dazed off looking at Effy’s suit jacket, the crease from having it on during the drive over. Jack was standing near a doorway, waiting for their approach. Effy shook Jack’s hand and was shown into the room where another man was standing politely. “How’re you doing?” Jack squeezed Rod’s hand tightly. “Okay.” “Go have a seat.” Jack closed the door behind them. “This is Pete Harrison. He’s going to assist us with this case.” All the men exchanged shakes of their hands and found a place at the oblong table. Jack sat behind a stack of paperwork. “I don’t know if what I’ve collected so far is enough, but I wanted to get you guys together to discuss this in case I missed anything.” Effy leaned his elbows on the table. “Rod, you can’t tell me no one at that scene witnessed Goush shoot first.” Rod shrugged. “If they did, they’re not talking.” Pete said, “I still have a few interviews to do. There were at least twenty individuals at that scene.” “And?” Effy asked. “Not one is cooperating?” “Are you surprised?” Rod said. “No.” Effy exhaled loudly. “Hang on.” Rod had a thought. “Your list. Is it only of the officials that were present?” Jack and Pete exchanged glances. Pete answered, “I assume so.” Effy hit Rod’s arm with the back of his hand. “The suspects.” “Fuck.” Rod shook his head. “Jack, the guys we did the raid on. They’d have no problem turning on Goush if they know something.” Pete said, “It’s a problem of credibility.” “But with all the other evidence?” Effy gestured to the stack.

“You guys know who was there?” Jack leaned closer. “Who were you raiding?” “F-Street Eastside.” Rod looked back at Effy. “I thought most of them were doing twenty year terms for all the dope and weapons we found.” “They are. No time off for good behavior like you had.” Rod knew Effy didn’t mean it as offense, so he didn’t take any. “Jack, most of them are locked up.” “I’ll get the names of the people arrested.” Pete scribbled notes. “Anything turn up on Goush’s computer?” Rod asked. “Nothing.” Jack frowned. “I thought I had something, but it vanished.” “That fucker knew he was going to die.” Effy sat up straighter. “Rod, have you even considered Goush pulling off suicide by cop? You know he had to have deleted that shit deliberately. Why did he do it before you shot him?” A cold chill rushed up Rod’s spine. He looked at Jack. “Holy fuck. Jack, do you know when he deleted those files?” Pete wrote more notes. “I’ll ask the techs if we can get that info. His widow said it is the same ten year old computer. She never uses it. She said it’s just been sitting in the den where Goush used to keep it.” Effy said, “He knew! He knew someone was going to expose him and he got rid of the evidence and committed suicide.” “Who?” Rod asked. “Who knew?” He turned to Jack. “Who suspected he was into child pornography?” “Son of a bitch.” Jack appeared as if a light turned on in his head. “I think that’s the answer. No one would give me anything concrete, Rod. But some of the interviews I did insinuated he had ‘unusual’ taste in porn. I figured it had to be under-aged boys or girls. What else could have gotten into hot water?” Jack scratched his jaw. “Do you think it was self-inflicted guilt and he was too chicken to kill himself?” “Suicide by cop is very common, Jack.” Effy leaned back in his chair. “Believe me. It works.” “How are we going to prove that?” Rod threw up his hands. “Only Goush knew he was going to be exposed. And he figured he’d take me down with him, since he hated my guts.”

Effy choked in a laugh. Rod spun around to see his face. “He fucking did not hate you. And if he did, it was love/hate, Rod.” “Shut the fuck up,” Rod said. “Rod.” Effy touched Rod’s arm. “He wasn’t the only straightass on the bureau who thought you were…” “Gay?” Rod felt disoriented. “No. Fucking hotter than hell.” About to deny it and feeling slightly dizzy from too much adrenalin, Rod kept silent. Effy said in a low voice, “Jack, most of the guys suspected Rod was gay. I noticed even the married ones giving his ass a good ogle.” Pete rubbed his eyes and exhaled loudly. Rod asked, “Are we offending you?” “Oh, hell no.” Pete shook his head. “I have a male partner.” In the silence that followed, Rod assumed everyone was trying to figure out what the next step should be or complete the puzzle pieces. A woman’s voice outside the room woke Rod out of his stupor. Two women, one African American and the other, a woman in her fifties, both dressed in immaculate skirt and blazer suits, where hugging and exchanging greetings. Jack stood, waiting. Rod felt his heart beating in his chest. “Your Honor,” Jack reached out for the older woman. “Hi, Jack. No need for formality with me.” She hugged him. “Gentlemen,” Jack showed the woman into the room. “This is Her Honor, Justice of the Supreme Court, Jennifer Bernstein.” Rod scrambled to his feet and extended his hand, hearing the noise of chairs being pushed out around him as all the men rose. “Call me Jennifer, please.” She smiled sweetly. “Thank you, Your Honor,” Rod held her hand in both of his. “I can’t thank you enough for the help you’ve given me.” “And I can’t say how sorry I am, Mr. Reynolds, at the unbelievable miscarriage of justice you were subjected to.” Jack pulled out a chair for her and she joined the group.

“We were brainstorming, Jennifer, and came up with one possibility.” Jack waited as everyone relaxed again in their seats. “I’m listening.” “Suicide by cop.” Jack paused as if giving Jennifer a moment to think. “Someone was on to his little fetish. He took Rod down with him, almost literally.” When Jennifer’s intelligent gaze fell on Rod, he was in awe of her. Some people radiated brilliance and compassion, Jennifer was one of them. “Do we know who found out about his secret?” she asked. “No. But I am going for that angle.” Jack nodded to Pete who continued writing notes. Jennifer stared at Rod for a long moment. Rod’s insides were twisting from nerves. “He lusted after you, didn’t he?” Rod didn’t know how to answer her. Effy did. “Agent Reynolds was an object of many people’s desire at the bureau, Your Honor.” She exhaled with a hiss of annoyance. “A supervisor with a long history with the FBI, a family man, children…” Jennifer caught Rod’s gaze. “He couldn’t face it. The lusting after the unattainable, living a lie, the exposure of his possible attraction not only to men, but possibly to young boys…that’s a lot to lose.” “Why couldn’t he just blow his brains out? Why did he involve me?” “My dear,” Jennifer rested her hand on the back of Rod’s. “Some people want their names to be connected to their victims for eternity. Do I have to list the deviants of society as an example?” “No. I know that story.” Rod thought of John Lennon immediately. “In some warped way, SAC Martin Goush wanted the two of you connected in his death.” Effy made a disapproving noise in his throat. Jennifer turned her focus on him. “Yes. It’s sick in every sense of the word.” Effy gestured to Rod. “How do we convince a jury that?”

“No. You don’t. There is no jury to exonerate Mr. Reynolds. This is all done by judges in chambers.” Jack added, “It’ll go to the California Court of Appeals. Then we will try for a pardon from the governor and compensation.” Rod tried to digest all the information. Jennifer said, “It’s good to go in with a strong case. You can’t keep going back again and again. That’s why we need everything going in.” Beginning to lose hope, Rod nodded but felt ragged. At a touch, he looked up at Effy. “I’m here for you. I wasn’t back then. I was chicken shit of losing my job. But I want to make it up to you.” “Thanks.” All Rod wanted to do was go home and rest. Jack seemed to sense it. “Can I get you anything, Rod?” Rod shook his head. Jennifer stood. “Hang in there. The evidence is mounting against the prosecution. And this harassment by the bureau will cease. I won’t tolerate that.” Rod stood, reaching for her hand. “Thank you.” She embraced him instead, whispering in his ear, “You’re a good man. Never forget that. You’re not a criminal.” At the kindness, Rod choked up. Jennifer smiled at the other two men and left the room with Jack, who escorted her out. Pete said, “Let me bring some bottled water for you guys.” After he was gone, Effy made Rod face him. “He did it to me too, Rod. Goush bashed me every minute he could. Always without a fucking witness. I swear. I wanted to wear a wire just to catch him in the act, but even if I had, I was petrified of reporting him.” Rod felt his eyes dry out, he couldn’t blink. He had no idea another man was also being targeted. “The fucker had so much seniority. Look at us back then. Two fucking rookies trying to make a name for ourselves. We sacrificed all our time for them, had no life, no relationships.” Rod nodded in complete agreement. “And for what?” Effy shrugged. “You get slammed with manslaughter and do ten years in the pen, and I get nothing but a job at a local PD. Big fucking deal.”

“I don’t blame everyone there. Just Goush.” “You’re a better man than me. I blame every son of bitch that didn’t do anything to make the complaint process easier for gay males. None of us said a thing. You know that. The women were knocking down the doors with sexual harassment issues. Us?” He frowned. “We were mute.” “But whose fault is that?” Rod bit his lip. “Ours.” Effy looked away just as Pete returned with bottles of water. “I don’t think there’s much more you two can do now.” Pete stood near the door. “If you want to sit for a while longer, it’s not a problem.” “Let’s get a coffee.” Effy tapped Rod’s shoulder. “Let me check with my boss.” Rod took out his cell phone. Pete exited the room again. “Bob?” “Yeah, how’s the meeting?” “Exhausting. I feel like shit.” “I’d tell you to take the day off, but I know you need the money, kid. Up to you.” “I’m still in a monkey suit.” Rod looked down at his clothing. “You need me to float you a couple hundred? You know, get you through?” “No. Bob, I appreciate it. I do. You’re the fucking best.” “If you make it here, I’ll send you out for a few hours. But, don’t if you’re not up to it. Okay?” “Yeah. Thanks, boss.” Rod hung up, pocketing the phone. When he looked at Effy, Effy had tears in his eyes. Effy fell against Rod, holding him around his neck. “I’m sorry. Rod, I’m so sorry.” “It’s okay.” Rod patted his back, noticing Jack pause before coming in. “I fucked up. I should have come forward.” Rod closed his eyes. There was no way he could hold a shovel or carry loads of cement after this. He was completely drained. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll be okay.” Effy sat up and cupped Rod’s face. “We all loved you. All of us.” “People had funny ways of showing it, Effy.” “It was jealousy. The guys just were envious of you.”

“You too?” “No. I wanted you to succeed. I still do. I just wish I had more guts back then to say what I needed to say. Will you forgive me?” “Yeah. What good will holding a grudge do me now?” Effy patted Rod’s cheek affectionately, then just seemed to notice Jack and moved back. “You guys can go unless you have any questions.” Jack stood at the door. Rod made it to his feet. “Call me if anything happens.” “You know I will. Jennifer is going to talk to the appeals court. She’s well liked and I think she’s going to just get a feel for their attitude at the moment. Unfortunately the political climate is volatile, and though it has nothing to do with you or your plea, it will set the tone of the court’s mood.” “Okay. Talk to you soon.” Rod shook Jack’s hand and walked down the hall to the lobby, hearing Effy behind him saying goodbye to Jack. They rode the elevator in silence. When they arrived at the lobby, Rod said, “Can I take a rain check on the coffee?” “Of course.” Effy took a pen from his pocket scribbling on the back of a business card. “Call me.” “I will.” Rod took it, reading Effy’s name and the LAPD police division he worked with on the back of it. They waved as they parted ways. Rod hung his head, thinking of a nap. There was nothing else he could do at the moment. He was numb. ~ Foley made it through the day, his focus on his work, though in the back of his mind he was thinking about Rod; daydreaming making love to him, and wishing he could fix everything in Rod’s life. Six o’clock brought the evening relief staff. Foley spotted Serena in her scrubs making her way down the corridor. “Nurse Reynolds.” “Doctor Russell,” she replied, a quirky smile on her lips. “How’s Rod doing?” “I think he’s okay. He spent the afternoon in bed. I left him alone.”

“Did he talk about the meeting with Jack?” “Not much. Just said it went ‘all right’.” Foley nodded, hoping that was good news. “See ya.” “See ya.” Serena stopped short and touched Foley’s arm. “When are you guys going to move in together?” “Why? Is he getting on your nerves?” Foley felt anxious at the thought. “No. We never see each other now. I just thought you two…well.” Checking his watch comically, Foley replied, “Two weeks? Would you shack up with a guy after knowing him two weeks?” “If it was the right guy.” She gave him a sly smirk and walked away. Foley headed home to shower and change. As he dressed he stared at his mobile phone. He hadn’t gotten a message from Rod, but that didn’t mean anything. Rod wasn’t a texting kind of guy. He took a last look around his home, closed the door and headed out to pick up some dinner for them. He had a feeling Rod would be drained from a stressful day. And I know just how to relieve that stress. ~ Rod lay awake, naked, staring at the ceiling fan which was not on. The cool LA April kept the interior comfortable. He tried to nap but was unsuccessful. Exonerated. Cleared. Full pardon. Compensation. Those words were spinning through his head at the moment. While he was inside prison he had thought the appeals process was over. That lackey team of defense attorneys did a lot of shrugging and no returning of his calls or letters once he was sentenced and incarcerated. He’d gotten so used to people letting him down, he had become anesthetized and expected people to disappoint him. So he’d held no hopes for anything working out. Serena was the one exception. His sister stood by him through the whole ordeal, never doubting his word, his innocence, and always being there for him when he needed her.

What would I do without Serena? He looked around the spare bedroom of her home. The day wages weren’t enough to get a place of his own yet. Soon. He’d offered to pay her rent, she adamantly refused. But…compensation for his time served? Cash? He would give her most of it. Take what he needed to get back on his feet, then give it to Serena. Rod scratched his balls and yawned. He rolled to his side, feeling lazy and guilty for not putting in a few hours at work. He certainly needed the money. Dozing on and off, Rod relived his first day being placed with the inmates of that hell hole. As he looked around the group who glared at him, he wondered who knew he was ex-FBI? How many guards were aware? Were they sympathetic or did they see him as a cop-killer and hate him on sight? Those questions took weeks for Rod to unravel. The dominance hierarchy in prison was overt. Guards were top of the food chain. You fucked with them? Mouthed off? They sent in a squad of SWAT-unit type soldiers, ready to wipe the floor with your face. One time he was involved in a physical battle with another felon. It was before he met Trick and ‘worked things out’. The special security unit of the prison had Rod on his stomach and hogtied so fast he couldn’t think straight. He wasn’t fighting back. No way. He allowed them to contain him and he was tossed into the pit—solitary—as punishment. Slowly Rod learned good behavior meant being left alone. After two years he actually became ‘friends’ with a few of the guards. They even listened to his side of the story, sympathizing. Or at least pretending to sympathize. But the guards were few in numbers and relied on their terror tactics to control an overpopulated group of degenerates. For day to day life and safety, Rod had to befriend inmates. There were a mix of petty criminals and murders, all together because of their behavior inside. Even if you were in jail for a minor offense, if you fucked with the system, you were isolated, treated like shit, tazed and maced into submission.

Rod didn’t have to learn that lesson. He was more than willing to deal with the loss of freedom alone. He didn’t need beatings, being tied to a chair or treated like a rabid animal. He volunteered for every duty allowed. Swept floors, offered to give the guards info if he knew of contraband or weapons…Rod played the inside game. But if he was found out to be a snitch? He was dead. Luckily his experience working with undercover sources and the police served him well. He was master of the covert. Trickster did the rest. Leader of the pack of the most powerful gang inside, Trick made sure everyone knew Rod was his property. Though being the cocksucker for a man who had shot a rival gang leader execution style in the back of the head wasn’t his idea of fun, Rod knew it made life in hell a little more bearable. Trick’s boys took care of everything. If Rod was harassed, if he was even shoved while he shot hoops in the courtyard, Trick’s army had the offenders face down on the floor faster than the team of guards in black armor. The daily routine was tedious but tolerable. He was given books to read, a journal to write in—though his pen was confiscated after an hour—and even time to work out and keep strong. If you stayed out of all the unstable inmates’ way, didn’t tread on rival gang territory, obeyed every command from the guard, and had a benefactor inside, you could survive. And he did. His model behavior saved him ten long years of living behind bars. That was his goal. Get the fuck out! Rod rolled to his back again, wishing he could actually sleep. He was weary of the effort it took to feel normal. A car door put him on alert. Rod stood by the window and peeked out. Foley was approaching the front pavement carrying bags…and a red rose. Okay, that’s fucking over the top. Or adorable. Rod slipped on his jeans and jogged to the door. Just as he heard a knock, Rod opened it. “I was going to call, but…I don’t know. I guess I thought you’d be asleep or something.” Foley entered the room.

Rod smelled fried chicken and other warm food. “I can’t sleep. I should have done a few hours at work.” He took the food bags from Foley and gave him a silly expression at the flower. Foley’s cheeks went crimson. “It’s for Serena.” “Good save.” Rod headed to the kitchen to see what was for dinner. It wasn’t in a bucket so he assumed it would be from a nice restaurant. “I’m sorry. It was an impulse buy.” Foley set the rose on the counter. “Put it in water or it’ll die.” Rod nodded to the cabinets over the sink. As Foley hunted for a vase, Rod explored the meal. “Holy shit does this look good.” “Honey Pot. Best barbeque chicken around.” Rod took all the extras—rolls, coleslaw, and mashed potatoes—out of the bag, placing plates and silverware on the table. Foley had located a bud vase and clipped the end of the stem. He put the rose and sprig of baby’s breath into it, filling it with water. “Thank you.” Rod patted the center of the table. “I want it right here.” Foley chuckled shyly and set the vase in the middle. After he washed his hands he joined Rod at the table. “Dig in.” Rod tasted a piece of chicken, coating his fingers in the sauce as he did. “Mm!” “I’m glad it’s a hit.” Foley was soon up to his elbows in food as well. Rod wanted to tell Foley about the meeting with Jack. He was just afraid to make it sound too promising. Just because he was innocent didn’t mean anyone would believe it. Especially at the appellate court level. Even Jennifer knew it would take a mound of information to sway their decision. And a pardon from the governor? Rod didn’t hold too much hope. He was apprehensive about sharing the news with Foley, so Foley didn’t begin acting as cheerleader. Rah! Rae! Rod’s okay! “Hey.” Rod blinked, coming out of his thoughts to see Foley’s serious expression. “Sorry.”

“You know I’m dying to ask you how it went.” Foley licked the sauce off his finger. Rod reached for Foley’s hand, stuffing his honey barbeque flavored digits in his mouth, one by one. “If that’s a diversion tactic, it’s good one.” Foley squirmed in his chair. Once he had cleaned his pinky finger, Rod smiled. “Yup. Did it work?” Foley reached over the table with a napkin to wipe Rod’s chin. “No. But if you don’t want to tell me, it’s okay.” Rod took the napkin from him and wiped his hands. “I do want to tell you. I just don’t want you to get your hopes up.” “And your own hopes up as well?” “Yes. That too.” Rod took a couple of bottles of water from the fridge and handed Foley one as he drank from the other, sitting back down. “But it was good news, right? Or there would be no chance of getting your hopes elevated to begin with. Am I right?” “Christ. I don’t know. I laid there after the meeting and tried to decide if it was good news. It’s got ups and downs.” “Doesn’t everything?” They ate in peace. Rod allowed the fabulous meal to distract him. Once every morsel was devoured, Rod stood, dumping the bones into the trash and the dishes into the sink. “Let me clean up.” “I got it.” Rod rinsed the plates. Foley stood behind him, reaching around him to wash his hands under the running water. Rod felt his hard cock press between his ass cheeks and closed his eyes. When he opened them, Foley had taken over running a sponge over the plates while he ground his hips into Rod. Fuck the dishes. Rod spread his legs, held onto the sink counter and ground his ass into Foley. Foley shut the water and ran his wet hands over Rod’s chest, rubbing his nipples into tiny erections. Rod opened his mouth for a breath as the desire grew. Every contact with this man was so erotic he was seriously beginning to think he was in love. Not lust. Love. Foley’s hands ran down Rod’s midsection, dripping water into his jeans. Using the edge of the counter for friction, Rod

ground against it, making circular motions while Foley did the same against his ass. His fly was lowered and parted, exposing his pubic hair. The minute Foley felt he’d gone commando, the pressure of Foley’s cock grinding into his ass amped up. Feeling Foley’s tongue circle around the area where Rod had tattoos behind his neck and shoulders, Rod was growing so hot he wasn’t sure he could stand the foreplay much longer. He looked down, seeing his bulging cock through the open jeans. Foley slid both hands into the back of Rod’s waistband and proceeded to drag them down. Rod was going into meltdown. His dick was throbbing and aching but he did nothing but receive. Oh, how incredible it was to do nothing for a change but get serviced. His ass was chewed as Foley knelt down, taking Rod’s clothing with him. Rod rested his elbows on the edge of the counter, spreading wider as he stepped out of one leg of his pants. His cock was thick and pushing against the front edge of the sink. Foley moaned deeply, parting Rod’s ass cheeks. When a tongue flicked over his rim, Rod shivered visibly and interlaced his fingers in front of his chest, as if he had to withstand the torture of waiting to come. Once Foley had a tiny lick, he buried his face between Rod’s cheeks and tongue fucked him. Rod gave out a loud whimper of surrender but still, knew he’d have to wait to climax. He felt Foley’s teeth on his butt, chewing, gnawing his glutes as he massaged his saliva into and around Rod’s hole and balls. “Fuck.” Rod peeked down at himself. A clear drop of precum was running down his dick. Foley continued his tongue action, tickling and dipping inside Rod. “No one’s done that to me…” Rod felt his throat go dry. “Just you.” For his reply, Rod felt Foley become more aggressive, Foley’s coarse jaw scratched his crease as he dug his tongue

deeper, massaged Rod’s root and cupped, tugged and rolled his balls in their sack. As kisses ran all over Rod’s ass cheeks, Foley slipped his slick finger inside him, the perfect prostate massage. A preclimax shiver washed over Rod. He was about to come. He maneuvered his dick upright against the sink and tried to find the right friction as Foley gave him an internal love rub. “I’m on the edge, Fol…right on the fucking edge.” Using gentle touches, Foley managed to turn Rod around to face him. Rod gripped the sink counter and stared down at this amazing man, his lover. Foley smoothed his fingers lightly over Rod’s bobbing length, as if he were admiring it, then he opened wide. The moment Rod’s cock was inside that heat, the rush of goose bumps on his forearms was instant. His testicles still being toyed with as they tightened, preparing for the body-rush, his ass penetrated with one wet finger, Rod closed his eyes and felt his knees unlock, collapsing under him. And he came. Filling Foley’s mouth with cum only made Foley suck harder and moan the most sensual sounds of yearning Rod had ever heard. Rod nearly lost contact with reality the climax was so strong. As it continued in strength and endurance, Rod gripped the sink so he wouldn’t fall over. Foley lapped the tip a few times, then stood, rubbing against Rod as he made it to his lips. Rod gripped Foley so tightly he imagined making them one person with two pounding hearts. He ate the taste of his own cum off Foley’s tongue, squeezing Foley so he could feel him breathe, his pulse, his sweat and heat. When they broke the kiss enabling them to gasp for air, Rod closed his eyes and pressed his dewy cheek against Foley’s so his lips were close to Foley’s ear. “I love you.” Foley echoed the tightness of the embrace, nearly picking Rod off his feet. “Live with me. I love you so much, Rod. Live with me.” ~ Foley rested his body against Rod, as Rod ran both his hands through Foley’s hair, cupping his head. Foley was directed back

to Rod’s mouth for more deep toe-curling kisses. He knew his answer. Foley didn’t have to hear it. He knew it. Rod walked Foley backwards. Foley didn’t flinch, completely trusting Rod would not slam him into a wall. Back they went, step by step, kissing, moaning, groping, until Foley was flat out on Rod’s bed. Rod took Foley’s pants off as Foley removed his shirt. Rod kept his stare on Foley as he retrieved a rubber and lubrication from the nightstand. Foley began to pant, tugging at his own dick in anticipation. The bed shifted, Rod sucked Foley’s cock down to his knuckles, using his tongue while it was in his mouth to draw patterns on it. When Rod sat up, he sheathed Foley’s cock and used the lubrication liberally on himself. Foley couldn’t catch his breath, staring at this beautiful man whose love was becoming all consuming in its passion and loyalty. Rod held Foley, spinning them over so Foley was on top, then Rod spread his legs in invitation. The rush to Foley’s cock was intense. After the sexual foreplay, the taste of Rod still lingering on his tongue, Foley pinched the base of his dick to slow down. Once he gained control, he made his move. Staring into Rod’s dark eyes, his full lips and thick head of brown hair, Foley pressed the head of his cock against Rod’s ass. “Look at you…” Foley began penetrating, his gaze solid on Rod’s expression. Rod didn’t speak nor react, but his muscles let go, allowing Foley to unite them. When Foley could not get any deeper, Rod cupped his face and drew him to his lips. At the kiss, completing their circle of connection, Foley actually felt his eyes burn with emotion. His cock wanted friction, so Foley let it do what it wanted to do, thrust inside. The kissing became a wild frenzy of sucking each other’s tongues and whimpering cries of carnal lust. Foley licked Rod’s chin before he leaned on Rod’s bent knees to see the connection. His gaze now riveted to his long curved dick up Rod’s tight ass, Foley thrust faster. “Oh, God.” Rod reached out to pinch each of Foley’s nipples, giving them a good snap. The zing to Foley’s cock was intense. His

eyes wandered up Rod’s packed body to his tattoos, then his full lips and those bedroom eyes. Foley arched his back, pushed to the hilt and clenched his teeth. He came, feeling each throb of his dick like an echo of a drum in his ears. After choking out a grunting sound, Foley said, “God!” unable to fathom the pleasure they were capable of obtaining together. Once Foley began to recover, Rod grabbed his jaw, drawing his mouth back to his. Foley fell on top of Rod, feeling Rod unfurl his legs to lay flat on the bed. And they kissed. Tenderly caressing each other, then ferociously snarling and writhing, only to go back to sweet pecks on the lips and gentle tickles of fingertips. Sweat-coated, satisfied beyond his dreams, Foley removed the condom and dropped it onto the wrapper, then closed his eyes and listened to Rod’s heartbeat through his ribs as Rod stroked his hair. He didn’t realize they had fallen asleep until hours later.

Chapter 16 Though Rod didn’t object to Foley coming with him, Foley insisted on going to Rod’s next meeting. Jack made it sound very urgent over the phone. They were to meet at the state court of appeals. When Rod and Foley arrived, Jack was standing with his mobile phone to his ear at the lobby door. Jack waved Rod over and then held up his finger for him to wait as he wrapped up the phone call. Rod knew Foley was behind him, he could hear his anxious breath. The suit made him feel overheated, but he wanted to look professional. Not like a coldblooded murderer. Jack pocketed his phone. “I need a word with Rod alone. Is that okay, Doctor?” “Of course.” Foley stepped back, leaning against the wall near the elevators. Jack touched Rod on the shoulder and brought him aside. “I think we got it clinched, but I wanted to tell you how we did it before we head up to the second floor and begin this appeal.” “I don’t get it.” Rod tilted his head. “Tell me what? I don’t have a chance in hell right?” “No. The opposite.” Jack peeked back at Foley then said, “Someone you knew in prison cut a deal and came forward.” Rod went icy cold. “Who? Who cut a deal?” “Terrance Henderson.” Blinking in disbelief, Rod bit his lip on his shock so Jack could continue. “He was given the possibility of parole instead of a life term for information that is going to get you a pardon.” Rod’s head was spinning. “Why am I not getting this? Jack, spell it the fuck out.” “Terrance knew a source and told us who it was. That source gave us a statement. You with me so far?” “Yes.” “The source disclosed that not only did the FBI know about the incidents of harassment Goush was inflicting upon members of staff, but…” Rod couldn’t take the suspense.

“The bureau supplied your defense. Paid for it.” “What the fuck?” Rod reached for something to steady himself. Jack grabbed him as Foley took a step closer, but held back. “My fucking lawyers were on their payroll?” Rod choked. “I must have been nuts. How could I not know that?” “How could you know that?” Jack asked. “It’s so fucking bent, your pardon will be granted immediately. I’m debating with Jennifer on what to require for your compensation.” “I was railroaded all the way around.” Rod closed his eyes, and wished he had a clear head back then. “My God. I never even suspected a thing. I just figured they were court appointed. Something.” “No. They were planted.” Jack looked back at Foley before he whispered, “Terrance is here. The source only agreed to give a taped statement to retain his anonymity. He’s already left the state. Strangely enough, he’s being protected by another agency to keep him away from the feds.” “Okay.” Rod ran his hand through his hair still trying to think straight and understand all the ramifications of the events that led to ten years in the penitentiary. “You ready to go up there?” “Yes.” Jack walked Rod towards Foley and hit the call button of the elevator. “You okay?” Foley asked, touching Rod’s arm. “Yeah.” Rod nodded, straightening his back and preparing himself for a reunion he never imagined he would have to make. In silence they rode the elevator to the second floor. There were so many people milling around the halls; attorneys in suits, uniformed guards, convicts in handcuffs, Rod was overwhelmed. If it wasn’t for Jack’s firm grip on his elbow, guiding him, Rod didn’t know what he would do. “Hot Rod.” At the sound of that voice, Rod halted in his tracks. His nightmares were flashing through his veins like poison. “Looking good, my man.” “Trick. What the fuck? You knew all along I was railroaded?”

“No, I did not.” Trick looked around indignantly. He was wearing a suit but his arms were shackled in front and a chain connected his ankles. Rod just noticed four armed men surrounding him but not touching him. “When did you find out?” Rod asked. “A couple days after you left. Someone came in. You know, a new face.” Trick glanced at the people around him. Rod knew everyone was listening. “This…doper, he finds out through the grapevine about our…” Trick stopped talking. Rod dreaded him saying anything about their blowjob relationship in jail. As if Trick were reluctant to admit his sexual violations, now that he had just cut a sweet deal, he didn’t verbalize it. “Says he knows your name.” Trick shrugged, his fingers laced as the chain hung in front of his suit trousers. “We had a little conversation. Dude wasn’t going to be in long. You heard what he told me.” “Yeah.” Rod stepped closer. “You ratted him out?” “I’m no snitch. I ratted the rats out.” Trick sneered at the four guards. “I did it for a deal for me, not for you, Hot Rod.” “I’m still glad you did it.” Rod could see Foley’s gaze intensify. “Yeah. You were all right. I had no complaints.” Trick gave Rod a deliberate sly grin. Jack broke it up as if he sensed Rod becoming uncomfortable. “Let’s go inside.” Jack touched Rod’s arm. When they began walking to a courtroom’s double door, Jack asked, “Still doing okay?” “Yeah. Seeing him sucks, but if he’s helping me…” Rod clenched his teeth at the rawness of the pain. “Life’s ironic that way.” Rod reached out to Foley. Foley clasped his hand. “You ready for your day in court?” Foley asked. “I’ve been waiting a decade for it.” “The waiting is over. At least from what I can gather.” “It is. I’ll tell you later about this guy.” Rod tilted his head to Trick, aware of all the eavesdropping going on around him. “I think I got that figured out as well.” Foley’s mouth tightened to a grim line.

Rod was sorry Foley had to see the man who had been receiving his oral attention for a very long time. It was one thing to imagine it, and another to know the reality. ~ Hours later, when the session concluded, Rod called his sister. “Serena? Did I wake you?” “No, Rod. I was up doing some cleaning. How’s it going?” Rod smiled at Jack and Foley as they stood in front of the courthouse. “Exonerated, full pardon granted by the governor…and get this.” Rod waited for Serena to stop cheering and squealing. “Forty thousand a year for each year served from the court, ten thousand a year from the state, and five thousand a year from the federal government.” Rod held out the phone as Serena continued to whoop it up. “Wow!” Foley laughed. “You deaf in one ear now?” Rod chuckled. “Sis. Ya there? Hang on. It gets better.” “How could it get better?” she asked, gasping as if the screaming she had done made her breathless. “My lawyer is suing the attorneys who defended me for malpractice.” Rod held out the cell phone again as Serena cheered in triumph. He finally put it to his ear again. “Ya there or did you faint from all the yelling?” “Oh, Rod! I’m thrilled! Let me call Mom. No. You call Mom. Let me call the newspaper. No, let your lawyer call the paper…” “Serena.” Rod touched Foley’s jaw tenderly. “We’ll take it a day at a time.” “I. Am. So. Happy!” she said slowly and loudly. “Me too. I’m still standing out front of the courthouse. Let me go. I’ll see you later.” “I love you, Rod!” “You too, sis.” Rod disconnected the line and smiled. “I guess she’s happy for you.” Jack laughed. Rod stared at Jack for a long moment. “I have no idea how to thank you.” “You don’t have to. I loved every minute of this.” “No pro bono any longer. I can afford you now.” “We’ve discussed it. I told you my payment. Help out the cause. And.” Jack grinned, “Just don’t blow it all in one place.”

Smiling, Jack reached out his hand. “I can’t tell you the pleasure I have had meeting and representing you.” Rod drew Jack into an embrace and held him. “Thank you.” “Like I said, my pleasure.” Jack stood back. “Let me allow you to absorb it, and I’ll call you when I reach a settlement with the defense team. There is no way they will want this little dirty deed to hit the newspapers. Expect a big pay out, but a gag order with it.” “Okay.” Jack turned to Foley. “Take good care of him. You got a great man here, Doctor.” “Thank you, Jack.” Foley shook Jack’s hand. Rod watched Jack walk away putting his cell phone to his ear as he did. Rod inhaled deeply. “I’m numb.” “It was very draining. Let me drive you home.” They walked to the parking garage. Rod was still in a daydream remembering Jack’s words to the appellate judges, the strength of his argument against someone’s wrongful conviction. He was a very good ally to have. “Oh, wait a minute. I owe someone else a thank you.” Rod kept walking and removed his phone, pushing buttons. “Hey, boss.” “Hey, Rod? So? Were you exonerated?” “Yup. The full deal.” “Hurray! That means I owe you a beer.” “No. I owe you. If you didn’t give me that lawyer recommendation…” Foley stopped at his car, using his key fob to open the locks. “Hey, kid. You were innocent. It only took time for your day to come around. I take it you’re done with day labor? Going back to law enforcement?” “I’m still taking it all in.” Rod dropped in the passenger’s seat as if he weighed a ton. “I will keep you on my list to go to the tavern with, boss.” “I know. I’m not worried. Go out and have fun.” “Thanks. Talk to you later.” Rod hung up. Foley was smiling at him. “Wow.” “Yeah, no kidding.” Rod blew out a breath. “I’m so burned out.”

“It was very stressful. I felt it, believe me. And I’m the king of dealing with stress.” Rod squeezed his knee affectionately. “Look, about Trick.” Foley held up his hand. “No need. There wasn’t even a relationship between you two.” “No. Not even close.” “Then don’t worry. Unless you need to discuss it, I don’t.” “No. The last thing I want to do is talk about it. But if you ever let it get to you, tell me.” “Get to me?” Foley pressed his fingers into his own chest. “Mr. Reynolds, you are one amazing man. After all you’ve been through, you’re still worried about other people?” “You. I worry about you and the fact that I did some shit I’m not proud of.” “In some weird way, it paid off.” Foley started the car. “Your friend, Mr. Henderson, got you free and clear.” Rod rested his head against the headrest as they drove out of the dim lot to the main street. He thought long and hard about that comment and didn’t have any conclusions about it or why things happen the way they do. Foley held his hand as they made their way into the traffic snarl of downtown LA. “You’re done, babe. Time to move on.” “Yeah. Time to move on.” Rod closed his eyes and tightened his grip on Foley’s hand.

Chapter 17 Rod packed what little he possessed into the duffle bag. Serena and Foley helped him with his toiletries and shoes. “I’ll miss you.” Serena smiled sweetly. “Sure ya will.” Rod gave her a grin back. “I put a damper on your love life.” She gestured around. “You see a love life?” “I have news for you, Nurse Reynolds.” “Yes, Doctor Russell?” Serena giggled. “Every man in that hospital is hot for you.” She rolled her eyes comically. “I don’t want to date at work.” “Why not?” Rod shouldered his bag. “You ever see ER? Give me a break. It’s like a soap opera.” “Come here.” Rod held out one arm. Serena embraced him, rocking him. “I’m so happy for you.” “Thank you. Thanks for sticking by me when no one else did.” Rod parted from her, seeing her glistening eyes. “I knew you were innocent. I didn’t need proof.” “Get on the day shift, will you?” Rod pointed his finger at her as he headed to the door. “You can’t live your life like a vampire.” “The pay is good.” She followed them. Foley said, “Believe me, you’ll like being back on a normal schedule once you are.” “I’ll think about it.” She stood by the open door. “You two have fun!” Rod kissed her cheek, waving as he walked to his truck. “Meet you home?” Foley held Rod’s arm before he climbed into his rig. “You sure you want me there? I can afford a place on my own now.” “Am I sure?” Foley tilted his head. “Do I look like the kind of guy who won’t say what he thinks?” Rod chuckled. “No.” “Get in that rust bucket and come home.” “You better follow me in case it dies.” Rod got behind the wheel. “You got it.”

Heading to Foley’s house in Glendale, Rod stopped for a red signal, seeing Foley’s Audi right behind him in traffic. Options. Rod finally had options. Did he want to go back into law enforcement? Do what Effy did? Join the local PD? “Carry a gun?” Rod shifted into first gear as the light changed. “What do I want to do?” Almost on auto-pilot, Rod made his way to his new abode, but the river of thoughts was like white water rafting through his mind at the moment. From Trickster helping him, to the new friends he made on the outside that believed in him, trusted him, to a man who was his new partner and moving in with him, to calling his mother…Rod was running on overdrive. His truck looked so out of place in the neighborhood, Rod knew he had to give it back to Bob. The thing was an embarrassment to the good doctor. Foley parked beside him in the two car garage, getting out quickly. Taking what little Rod possessed into the immaculate house, Rod felt nervous to the extreme. Was he ready for this? Out of prison and into a relationship? He was a novice. He never had a steady man. “Just leave it there for now.” Foley pointed to an area by his closet in the master bedroom. Rod dropped his duffle bag and tried to stop the internal conversation he was having. It wasn’t a good time to deal with anything at the moment. He felt Foley helping him remove his suit jacket. Rod was so out of it, he didn’t even remember he wore a jacket and tie. He shrugged off the jacket and unknotted the necktie. He spotted Foley getting undressed in a mirror on his bureau. Rod spun around so he could watch him as he took off his own clothing. They met gazes. Foley tossed his things onto a chair and stood calmly. Seeing Foley naked, giving him a look filled with both love and lust, Rod knew exactly what he needed to clear his mind. Once he had taken off his briefs, Rod mimicked Foley’s posture, like two bucks ready to rut. “You up for it?” Foley tugged on his cock.

Rod’s dick responded, bobbing at the sight. “My dick said yes.” Foley took a condom and the lubrication out of the nightstand. He spread his legs and thrust out his hips. “Come get it, gorgeous.” Without hesitation, Rod closed the gap between them, lifting Foley off his feet and landing on the bed on top of him. He nudged Foley’s legs apart and went for his mouth. Foley moaned deeply, digging one hand through Rod’s hair and running the other down his back to his ass, gripping it hard. A zap of sexual energy raced through Rod. They dueled tongues and then Rod fucked Foley’s mouth with his, jamming his thick dick under Foley’s balls with the same rhythm. After kissing to the point of frenzied sucking and moaning, Rod chewed his way down Foley’s neck to his nipple, gnawing on it, getting it between his teeth to tug. Foley whimpered and Rod felt his cock throb against him. Using long wet laps of his tongue, Rod made his way down Foley’s tight abdomen to his pubic hair, rubbing his face into it and inhaling in bliss. “I want to make love to you.” “Make love to me.” Foley arched his back, pushing his groin against Rod’s face. Rod pointed Foley’s cock at his lips, tasting the drop at the slit before he engulfed it. Foley’s cock shivered in Rod’s hot mouth. Rod rubbed his own dick against the bed, giving it just enough friction to keep it very hard. Sucking to the tip, Rod gently stroked Foley’s length while lapping at his balls and inside his thighs. “Rod. Holy shit.” Foley reached down to caress Rod as he writhed on the bed. Rod sat up, reaching for the condom. While Rod prepared, Foley bent his legs, holding his knees to spread wide. At the sight, Rod finished wiping gel on his sheathed dick, and went for a lick of Foley’s rim. Foley flinched and grunted in reaction. Using his slick fingers, Rod penetrated him. The groan of pleasure made Rod’s skin tingle. Opening Foley up for the taking, Rod gave him a prostate rub worth remembering.

“I’m on the edge, Rod.” Foley showed his teeth in a sexual snarl. Rod sank Foley’s cock into his mouth, continuing to fingerfuck him. Foley’s body jerked off the bed, thrusting deep into Rod’s mouth, filling it with his cum. Rod kept sucking and rubbing inside Foley until his orgasm subsided. He sat up, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and pointed his dick at Foley’s hole. Foley reached out, coaxing Rod to get inside him. Rod needed no help in that area. He began uniting them, climbing closer to Foley until they were as tight as their bodies allowed. The heat and friction made Rod grind his jaw. It was Foley who began fucking him from below. It made Rod so crazy he gripped Foley and increased his speed. While Rod hammered to his heart’s content, Foley ran his hands all over Rod’s chest and pinched his nipples. “Oh, yeah…” Rod flexed his muscles in preparation for the blast. “Jesus, Rod.” Foley got to his elbows to connect to Rod’s mouth. Rod jammed his hips into Foley, sucking on his lips and tongue. The minute he began his climax he threw his head back and gasped, gripping Foley tightly as the pleasure rocked him. His entire groin going into orgasmic contractions, Rod felt dizzy from the intensity and had to shake his head to come around from it. When he opened his eyes, Foley was staring at him. Those blue eyes were so clear and focused, Rod felt a lump in his throat. He pulled out and discarded the rubber into a tissue, then collapsed on top of Foley to embrace him. “Welcome home, babe.” Foley caressed his back. Rod nestled into Foley’s neck and released a deep exhale of relief. “Welcome home.” Foley rocked him, wrapping his legs around Rod’s. Feeling Foley’s kisses covering his sweating cheek and neck, Rod did feel like he was home. And it was overwhelming. A month ago he was trapped in a cage. Now he was living with a god. In a moment, things change. For better or worse.

But Rod had learned to seize the good times. He knew how quickly life could be thrown into a tailspin. “I love you.” Foley cupped Rod’s face. Rod leaned up on his elbows. “Thank you.” Foley just smiled. The End

About the Author Award-winning author G.A. Hauser was born in Fair Lawn, New Jersey, USA and attended university in New York City. She moved to Seattle, Washington where she worked as a patrol officer with the Seattle Police Department. In early 2000 G.A. moved to Hertfordshire, England where she began her writing in earnest and published her first book, In the Shadow of Alexander. Now a full-time writer, G.A. has written over fifty novels, including several bestsellers of gay fiction and is an Honorary Board Member of Gay American Heroes for her support of the foundation. For more information on other books by G.A., visit the author at her official website. www.authorgahauser.com

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G.A. has won awards from All Romance eBooks for Best Author 2009, Best Novel 2008, Mile High, and Best Author 2008, Best Novel 2007, Secrets and Misdemeanors, Best Author 2007.

The G.A. Hauser Collection Single Titles Unnecessary Roughness Hot Rod Got Men? Heart of Steele All Man Julian Black Leather Phoenix London, Bloody, London Games Men Play In The Dark and What Should Never Be, Erotic Short Stories Mark and Sharon (formally titled A Question of Sex) A Man’s Best Friend It Takes a Man The Physician and the Actor For Love and Money The Kiss Naked Dragon Secrets and Misdemeanors Capital Games Giving Up the Ghost To Have and To Hostage Love you, Loveday The Boy Next Door

When Adam Met Jack Exposure The Vampire and the Man-eater Murphy's Hero Mark Antonious deMontford Prince of Servitude Calling Dr Love The Rape of St. Peter The Wedding Planner Going Deep Double Trouble Pirates Miller's Tale Vampire Nights Teacher's Pet In the Shadow of Alexander The Rise and Fall of the Sacred Band of Thebes

The Action Series Acting Naughty Playing Dirty Getting it in the End Behaving Badly Dripping Hot Packing Heat Being Screwed

Men in Motion Series Mile High Cruising Driving Hard Leather Boys

Heroes Series Man to Man Two In Two Out Top Men

G.A. Hauser Writing as Amanda Winters Sister Moonshine Nothing Like Romance Silent Reign Butterfly Suicide Mutley’s Crew