Sol Crafter's Blog, page 17
September 27, 2012
NOVEL: From Diamond to Coal, by Sol Crafter [mm science fiction] – Chapter Eight
Title: From Diamond to Coal
Author: Sol Crafter
Genre: science fiction, mm romance
Rating: teen+
Summary: William Neeley is a genius. At the age of 15 he started Cyber Angel Industries and has since completely changed the face of the modern world. From personal shielding technology to enhanced musculature to home electronics, William has a finger in every pie and is quickly becoming the world’s most wealthy individual.
He shares his life with his husband, Alan Trent, and their young son Morgan.
William always strives to maintain his image of “normal life,” though he is diverted at every turn. Whether he’s posing half-naked on billboards, creating massive death rays, or Alan is becoming the President of the United States, or Morgan has grown wings, or he’s accidentally torn a rip in the space time continuum… he will always say that his life is nothing but normal.
Welcome to his world.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The first thing they’d done once they were out of the hospital was head off to their honeymoon. William felt a bit bad about running out on making a statement about events, but they left poor Byron behind to make a report and had him catch up to them a day later.
William had promised the police that they would be back in a week to make their own statements, but they were going on their honeymoon. To etch out their honeymoon week he’d had to rearrange a lot of things and throw a tantrum or two. They were both so busy and they rarely got the chance to be alone, so it wasn’t time he was willing to lose and he’d felt no shame in throwing his weight around to put off the police.
He wasn’t going to miss this chance.
Their plane landed in Sydney and they stepped out to incredibly beautiful weather. The sun was shining and the people they saw walked around with lots of bared skin and William immediately tugged Alan over to buy a ridiculous floral print shirt from an airport shop because it was the kind of thing American tourists always wore no matter the country they visited. Alan gave him an incredibly doubtful look at his explanation, but didn’t object too much when presented with his own hideously loud garment.
It felt as though a heavy weight had been lifted from his shoulders and William went about the task of thoroughly enjoying himself. He was going to indulge in every single stereotypical vacation act and take as many ridiculous photos as he could.
There was surfing, swimming, sightseeing and sex. It brought them closer together and they were able to get over the worst of the fear they’d experienced. It was just good to get away from it all.
“I wish we could just stay here forever,” William said.
They were lying poolside at their hotel, a pitcher and two glasses between them. Alan wore a pair of blue swim trunks and his bare skin was smooth and tan. He looked as though he went to the gym regularly.
William, though, was catching looks from members of both sexes. He was wearing a pair of black swim shorts that left a lot of skin bare. His body was supple and fit, all lean grace and narrow hips. Lying on his back with his legs slightly parted, he was like an invitation to every saint and pervert out there.
He didn’t realize just how many would-be suitors James and Byron scared off with their harsh expressions and dangerous mien. If it had just been them alone, he would have been propositioned several times and Alan would have gotten very upset and things would have become awkward.
It had become a regular thing that he be heavily guarded at all times. Sure, Alan had his own visible bodyguard while he was wandering around, but William had two permanent guards–James and Byron–and a squad that rotated through. At first it had been embarrassing to be followed around all the time, but now it was just something that happened.
William sat up slightly and reached for his drink. He took a couple of large gulps, mostly draining the iced pomegranate tea, then he refilled his glass and settled back down, the cool rim of the glass propped on his chest. “This has been a really great time,” he said. “I think I would like to come here again.”
“We can do that.” Alan’s voice was slightly muffled as he was lying face down on his lounger with a large green towel spread out under him. “I’ve been having a really good time here too.”
William eyed the curves of his ass in those shorts, then had to shake himself to bring everything back into focus. “You’re getting kind of very brown. Do you think it’s time to go in?”
“Not yet, please,” Alan murmured. He sounded like he might be drifting off to sleep.
William frowned. “I really don’t want you to get skin cancer. We should go inside right now.”
“Please, as though you wouldn’t be able to find a cure for skin cancer if you thought I was dying.” Alan snorted. “There’s no way you would ever just let me die like that.”
“That may be,” William said sternly, “but it’s time for us to go inside now.”
Alan sat up with a groan, stretching his arms over his head and twisting his spine until there were faint popping sounds. “That feels good.” He stood up, looking down to find his flip flops and slip them on his feet. “I’m probably in shock, though. I never knew I’d married such a hard ass.”
“You bet your soft squishy ass that I’m a hard ass.” William grinned and stood up, gulping down the last of his drink before setting the glass on the small round table. “I think I probably could win awards for how frickin’ hard my ass is.”
“Can we stop discussing your ass and just go in already?” Alan said mock-impatiently, though he was smiling and his eyes touched William with fondness. “I’m thinking it might be nice if we had an early dinner. I’m feeling hungry.”
William paused to give him a flirty glance. “Let’s not go to the restaurant,” he said. “Let’s go back to the room.”
“Really?” Alan grinned. “Okay.”
It was a battle William barely won to keep from giggling, and even then he still made snorting-snerk sounds at odd intervals as they walked through the giant hotel toward the elevator that would take them to their suite. There were masses of people strolling around the shopping area and even though there were seemingly dozens of elevators, they were all full. Still, James managed to grab them an elevator for the four of them alone and William couldn’t help appreciating a guy that was willing to bribe anyone he had to.
He walked with Alan to their bedroom once they’d reached the suite, leaving Byron to order their dinner from room service. Then, even though he still felt a bit weirded out about his bodyguards being in the next room, William tugged Alan toward the bed. He reached out with his free hand and jerked the blankets back before shoving Alan down on the crisp sheets.
“Wow, you’re really being bossy, aren’t you?” Alan wore a shit-eating grin that William immediately wanted to eat off his face.
He straddled Alan’s lap, pressing their groins together and rocking his hips a little while he kissed Alan loudly and sloppily, their teeth gnashing and their tongues tangling. “I wanna fuck you so bad,” he gasped. He pulled back a few inches, holding Alan’s cheeks cupped between his palms. “Tell me I can fuck you. Tell me right now.”
Alan still wore that grin, his blue eyes sparkling dangerously. “Why are you asking? Just do it. You know you want to. Do me now.” From his tone, there wasn’t a single doubt in William’s mind that Alan was going to fight him all the way, because even when he tried to play submissive, Alan was still a toppy bottom.
It secretly made William hot.
“I love you, you know that?” He reached his hands between their bodies and ended up tangling with Alan’s frantic hands as they fought to get their shorts off. William bent around awkwardly to use his hands to pull his shorts off and flung them across the room before rolling back on Alan, huffing a laugh when he saw Alan’s shorts still around one foot. It was just an amusing flash before he was going about the serious business of making love to Alan.
They were lying on their backs side by side, the sheets a mess around them, trying to catch their breath. The double doors leading out to the balcony were open and a cooling breeze drifted in to dry the sweat to their bodies.
William turned his head to look at Alan, a fond smile pulling up the corners of his lips. “You look good like this,” he said.
Alan rolled his eyes, but William ignored his denials. He did look good: sun-gold skin splayed out across the white sheets, his sandy blond hair tousled around his head. So much naked goodness that William almost felt reverential looking at him, as though Alan was some holy object that William had been made to worship.
He had never felt like this before, and all these new feelings were tied to Alan and made him love him even more. It made William afraid sometimes, not that the feelings were going to overwhelm him, but that someone would try and take them away. It left him wanting to cling even tighter to Alan, which worried him about becoming obsessive, but knowing the kind of man Alan was relieved William.
If anything ever happened, it wouldn’t be something Alan would be a part of. So all William had to worry about was something happening beyond human control, like a natural disaster or something. Because Alan was as protected in his day-to-day life as one man could possibly be, William’s money had assured that.
“You’ve got a big line between your brows,” Alan said. “What are you thinking about so hard?”
William blinked languidly. “Just that I really love you.”
Alan smiled, a gentle crease of his lips. “I love you too.” He stretched his arms above his head, his body becoming one taut line of corded muscle and arching flesh. He held the pose for a long moment, his whole body tight, then relaxed with a satisfied exhalation. “I better start going to the gym more, otherwise I won’t be able to keep up with you.”
William slapped the back of his hand against Alan’s stomach lightly. “How about you go to the gym the same amount you are now, but work out with me more often?” He rolled over sideways and up onto Alan’s body, digging the point of his chin into the center of Alan’s chest so he could stare into the other man’s face. He brought his arms up so his hands could rest on Alan’s shoulders, fingers gripping the hard knobs hidden beneath that warm skin. “I’m sure we’d both enjoy that.”
Alan laughed and William enjoyed the way his body jounced up and down with the sound in Alan’s chest. Their legs were tangled together snugly and William enjoyed the feel of Alan’s smooth skin beneath his cheek, the small patch of chest hair tickling William’s nose. “Yeah, but there’d be nothing left of me. I’d be worked to the bone,” Alan said.
“But what a way to go,” William growled. He turned his head so he could press his mouth to Alan’s chest. He lifted himself up on his elbows and began giving Alan big, open-mouthed teeth impressions, lightly enough that it didn’t hurt, but just enough to leave faint red marks that looked like kernels of corns. He didn’t like that they faded so quickly and began sucking on patches of skin until moist red circles were left behind. He smiled secretly to himself and started placing the kiss marks in a pattern.
He glanced up at Alan’s face now and then to make sure he was all right with what he was doing, but Alan was just quietly smiling and watching him work, his mouth shaping an occasional hiss. It made William tickle Alan’s sides with his fingers as he made the last mark on the skin just below Alan’s belly button. Then he sat up. “Well?”
Alan lifted his head enough to look down his body, then snorted and rolled his eyes at William. “Really?”
“What? I think it’s sexy. We should get you a tattoo,” William teased.
Alan laughed and shook his head, holding his arms toward William. “Come here. I heart you too.”
William grinned and climbed back onto Alan’s body, letting those strong arms wrap tight around him. He closed his eyes and breathed in the warm scent of Alan’s skin, digging his nose into the crease between neck and shoulder. His tongue darted out for a quick taste, but he was satisfied just with being held close.
* * *
Alan thought that maybe he should be upset that he had a large heart made out of hickies down his chest and stomach, but all he could think about was how hot it had been seeing William sucking on his flesh. There hadn’t seemed to be anything very sexual about it since they were both pretty spent, but it had still felt intimate, something just between the two of them.
There were things Alan let William do to him or for him that he’d never allowed anyone else. It sometimes took some cajoling on William’s part, but Alan had been more open to trying new things with him, things he’d always refused to even consider with a different partner. It made him hope that this love lasted because he was tired of failed relationships and being alone.
He could see happily spending the rest of his life with William, but it was impossible for him to guess what the future might hold. All he knew was that he was happier right now than he’d ever been in his life.
There was a faint knock on the door, then Byron’s voice: “The food’s here.”
Alan turned his head to look at the bedside clock and cursed. They’d told Byron to arrange dinner for six, and right now it was six-fifteen. It made him wonder what the man had gone through, wondering when he was supposed to interrupt his employers while they were having sex in the middle of the afternoon.
“We’ll be out in a minute,” William called serenely. He sat up and climbed from the bed. He jerked his chin at Alan. “Come on, we need a shower.”
Alan still wasn’t used to the idea of so many people invading his space, not in his supposed personal life at least. His professional life had seen him dealing with staffers and bodyguards, but he’d always tried to maintain some semblance of normality in his every day life.
Alan shelved the sense of oddity he felt and got off the bed and followed William into the bathroom. They shared the shower and quickly washed themselves before getting out, not even trying to indulge in anything more, though Alan couldn’t help running admiring eyes over William’s body from across the room as they dressed. It was distracting enough that he mis-tied his shoes, then had to laugh at himself and focus more attention on what he was doing.
His cheeks felt hot when they stepped out of the bedroom to find Byron setting their food out on the dining table, but Byron didn’t say anything and Alan pretended he didn’t feel embarrassed and everything was all right.
“Thank you,” William said, completely comfortable.
Byron nodded. “You’re welcome.” He gave them both a smile and left for his own room in the suite.
William sat down and casually began cutting his meat. He paused and looked at Alan. “Anything wrong?”
Alan shook his head and sat in his own chair, laying his napkin across his lap. “Nothing.” ‘I just had a big moment of disconnect,’ didn’t want to come out of his mouth, not when William was looking at him so invitingly. It had just suddenly struck him that he was very far away from small town life in Iowa. “Let’s eat.”
When he’d been quietly freaking out about his need to have the perfect wedding, Alan had barely given a second thought to the honeymoon other than to offer suggestions about where it should take place. Now, whenever he thought of his wedding, the honeymoon would be a big part of the memory because it had been wonderful with no big disruptions or real irritations. Every other vacation he’d had in his life had brought him some form of misery in one way or another, some bit of something that would spoil part of the memory for him.
But their honeymoon had been absolutely perfect. Whenever something looked like it was about to ruin some aspect of their fun, James and Byron were there like magic, or William was just so overpoweringly HIM that no one could do anything to stop him. Even though Alan was a politician, seeing “William Neeley” work left Alan a bit in awe, and maybe somewhat afraid. Because William Neeley was just so overwhelming that no matter what he turned himself toward, William was an unstoppable force.
Nearly the entire flight home, Alan kept glancing at William and feeling as though there was something he should say, but he didn’t know what so he stayed quiet. It was nice to bask in the quiet contentment of having enjoyed the best trip in his life. It made him wonder how he had ever gotten along without William in his life before.
By the time they’d climbed into the back of the car for the drive home, he felt relaxed in a way he’d never experienced after a trip before. Usually there was some bit of lingering stress that kept his brain grinding away. But being able to turn his head and look at William sitting next to him, he couldn’t help a smile to go along with his lazy sense of well-being.
“What?” William asked, glancing up from his cyphone, though his fingers didn’t stop their twitch-typing. He noticed Alan’s eyes and shrugged. “Yeah, this isn’t the most efficient way of inputting data, but until I’m prepared for cranial surgery it’s the best option I have available.”
Alan blinked. “I don’t think I want to ask. Though I would just like to say that I am very against the idea of you putting needless holes in your head, so please make sure to notify me before you do it.”
William flashed a smile. “Noted. Now why were you giving me the upside down ‘U’ eyes?”
“I don’t even know what that means,” Alan said.
William demonstrated, half-shutting his eyes in an obnoxiously self-satisfied manner. “Like this.”
Alan sighed heavily, though he couldn’t help a quirky little smile at just how cute William could be. “I would sign an affidavit saying that I was not looking as ridiculous as that,” he said, “though I may have been indulging in a bit of newly married bliss.”
William’s fingers, which had still been texting away, slowed then stopped. He looked down at his phone for a long moment, then locked the screen and tucked the cyphone into the front breast pocket of his suit. He gave Alan a gentle smile then scooted as close to Alan as he could manage with his seatbelt on and leaned his head against Alan’s shoulder. He reached out and grasped Alan’s hand with his own, entwining their fingers together on Alan’s thigh. “I’m feeling pretty blissful too. Just thought you should know.”
Alan squeezed William’s hand and gazed out the window, watching the city pass by as they were carried along toward their building. William’s head was a warm weight on his shoulder and he honestly couldn’t think of any place he’d rather be. It was strange how quickly his life had changed and how okay he was with it all, when nothing had come to him so easily before.
He sighed contentedly. He never would have thought he would be so easily tamed, but William was special.
* * *
Though he hadn’t said anything to Alan, there was a part of William that wished they didn’t have to go home. He’d been happy in Australia, relaxed in a way that he hadn’t been in a long time. It was tempting to beg Alan so they could stay longer, but he knew CyberAngel Industries was waiting for him and he had employees depending on him being mature enough to come back to work when he was supposed to.
Still, the temptation was there, and it brought a roiling sense of sick through his stomach to realize that he was going to be facing the kind of questioning and observation that he’d always hated and had spent his life desperately avoiding.
He was the President of CyberAngel, but he was happy to let Lee Anderson be the face of the company and acting CEO. It meant that he didn’t have to worry about paparazzi being able to track him down easily–not with his security to get in the way–and he got the freedom to enjoy his day-to-day life.
The closer they got to their building, the more upset his stomach felt. There were going to be police and questions and all the things he had purposely cut out of his life.
He pushed his face closer against Alan’s shoulder, breathing in his scent. William had a fondness for expensive cologne for himself, but he preferred Alan smelling the way he did. Skin and deodorant and a whiff of aftershave that William had to get close to sniff, nuzzling his nose against the soft folds of Alan’s suit jacket. He could feel the warmth and solid strength of Alan’s body through his clothes and it gave him a sense of security.
“Hey now, what are you doing?” Alan’s chest vibrated beneath William’s cheek.
“You smell good,” William said, sniffing extra loudly.
Alan chuckled. “You enjoy yourself then.” He pressed a kiss against the top of William’s head and went back to staring out the window.
William sighed and pressed closer against Alan, fighting the need to crawl into the other man’s skin. He was nervous about going home, about having to face everything that had happened.
He squeezed his eyes tight shut and tried to pretend that everything was going to be okay, but his brain insisted on filling itself up with dark thoughts. Too much had happened in too short an amount of a time and he didn’t know how he was supposed to cope with it all.
He’d almost died multiple times at the hands of a madman. The woman he’d loved really had died because of the man–because of Damien Prince.
The idea that Prince had been stalking him for years made William’s stomach ache. The man had killed Melissa, then waited years to try and come after him too. It was a frightening thought he didn’t know what he was supposed to do with. Just the idea that the man could have been following him around, watching him and waiting for a chance to kill him, it was the most disturbing thing he’d ever dealt with.
Melissa Kim had been brutally murdered. The only part of her that had been untouched was her face, which had worn an expression of absolute horror. Her black hair had been a tangled fan laid out across the bare mattress, the sheets and blanket having disappeared somewhere–they were never found and it was assumed the killer had taken them with him. It hadn’t been of big concern to William at the time; he’d walked in through the door and found his way into the bedroom where he’d found her splayed across the bed, blood having poured out to stain the mattress and the hardwood floor below.
They’d told him he was in shock at the time, and looking back he thought that he probably had been. Everything was kind of faded and confused in his mind when usually his memories were crisp and hyper-clear. It disturbed him because he owed a large part of his success as an inventor and businessman to his eidetic memory. So to have blanks in his memory, faded spots all tattered and torn away, it made him feel uneasy. He couldn’t help wondering what else he might have forgotten. It was as though the second he walked through the door and saw her lying there–waiting for him to find her–the world had stood still, then crumbled away.
He didn’t remember calling the police. He didn’t remember hours in the interrogation room explaining that he didn’t know what had happened, that he didn’t know what was happening. Everything had been all jumbled up and blurry and so bright it had hurt his eyes and made him nauseous.
It was only later when he found himself huddled on RJ’s couch wrapped up in a blanket that it finally sunk in and he realized what had happened. Melissa was dead and he was alone and whoever had done it had gotten away.
For years afterward, William had poured money into investigators and pressed the police so they would keep her file active, but nothing had ever been found and he’d finally gotten on with his life. He’d met Alan and they were extremely happy together. Which is why he was so upset about Melissa’s murderer popping back up in his life, stirring up all the grief and loss and adding fear into the mix because he had nearly died.
Damien Prince was locked away and William had always thought he would feel vindicated to finally have everything over, but he didn’t. Instead he felt as though something awful was going to happen. The peace he’d found for himself was broken.
When he was away from Alan now, there was always this moment when he came into a room expecting to see Alan’s bloody body spread all over the place. His whole body would tense up, bracing for the emotional damage, then he would see Alan and the relief would leave him chilled and wrung out.
He was terrified that he was going to lose Alan and there was nothing he could do about it. All of the old feelings were stirred up and he didn’t know how to set the fear aside. It was a gaping maw waiting to suck him down into the realms of terror and loss.
William didn’t know what he would do if he lost Alan the same way he’d lost Melissa. He didn’t know how he would be able to survive it. And the thought terrified him.
He’d had a pretty instant case of attraction toward Alan and he’d come to the rather logical conclusion that he was in love. He just hadn’t realized how deep he’d gone, not until Prince had popped up and reminded him just how easy it was to lose everything he had.
The thought that he could have been killed was a disturbing one, but the idea that Alan might have died instead… it sent a shiver of unease through him and he wanted to clutch Alan close and never let him go.
“Are you all right?” the question was filled with quiet concern.
William buried his face further against Alan’s chest, snuggling into the crease between his arm and side.
“Seriously, are you okay?” Alan sounded genuinely concerned.
William held still for another long moment, then finally sighed and tilted his head back so he could meet Alan’s eyes. “I don’t want to go home. I wish we could have stayed away even longer.”
Alan’s lips curved in a slow, gentle smile. “Me too, but we both have responsibilities we have to get back to. Still, it would have been nice if we could have had a few more days.”
“Please, I would have wanted a few months or even years. We could have frolicked outside and chased the sun across the sky and seen all the world has to offer,” William said a bit wistfully. “I have a lot of money. More than enough to last both our lifetimes and probably longer even. We never would have had to come back.”
“Except it wouldn’t have worked,” Alan said. “You would have gone crazy without your lab and there’s no way you could have ever left RJ like that.”
There was such certainty in his voice that William would do the right thing, that William didn’t want to tell him that he’d been seriously thinking about it. For most of their honeymoon he had toyed with the idea of their running away from all of their responsibilities and enjoying a life of wild and carefree pleasure. It was only the knowledge that Alan would never go for it that stopped him, and escaping his life didn’t seem as enjoyable if he was doing it alone.
“Yeah,” William sighed. “There’s no way I’d ever do it.” Not without you. “I’m rather scared to check my email because I’m pretty sure it’s full. CyA needs me.”
“CyA? I like it.” Alan began combing his fingers through William’s hair in an absentminded manner. “It would have been nice to run away for a little while, but someone would have come looking for us. It’s better that we come back of our own free will rather than being dragged back kicking and screaming.”
“I suppose you’re right,” William said.
“We’ll run off someday,” Alan promised. “Just the two of us and no distractions. It will be a fabulous retirement.”
William sat up and twisted around so he could press his lips to Alan’s in a quick peck, then he pulled away to look into his eyes. “You want to retire with me when we’re both old, old men?”
Alan blinked. “Of course. We’re going to grow old and crotchety together. We’ll probably have a few dogs, maybe a cat or two, and we’ll live on a large estate with a covered patio and a porch swing built for two.”
“I’ll put my science lab at the back and we can have a guest house so RJ has a place to stay when he comes and helps me with my projects,” William said with growing enthusiasm. “We can’t have him in the house with us because we’ll be, you know, having sex everywhere.” He gave a cheeky smile and got a laugh out of Alan along with a deep kiss that left him grinning and breathless.
He’d been freaked out at the idea of going home again, but that anxiety was pushed aside by the knowledge that Alan wanted to grow old with him so much that he was coming up with ideas for what they should do for their retirement together.
I’m going to take such good care of you, William promised.
He would protect Alan and make all his dreams come true and it was going to be beautiful. Because he had always done his best work under the influence of love.
/ARC ONE
This wraps up Arc One. I’m currently editing it, adding content, and there will be a short story included in the ebook. It will be available shortly for the purchase price of $2.99.
Thanks for reading. Arc Two will start soon(ish).
~Peace, love, joy.
From Diamond to Coal
Title: From Diamond to Coal
Author: Sol Crafter
Genre: science fiction, mm romance
Rating: teen+
Landing page: From Diamond to Coal
Summary: William Neeley is a genius. At the age of 15 he started Cyber Angel Industries and has since completely changed the face of the modern world. From personal shielding technology to enhanced musculature to home electronics, William has a finger in every pie and is quickly becoming the world's most wealthy individual.
He shares his life with his husband, Alan Trent, and their young son Morgan.
William always strives to maintain his image of "normal life," though he is diverted at every turn. Whether he's posing half-naked on billboards, creating massive death rays, or Alan is becoming the President of the United States, or Morgan has grown wings, or he's accidentally torn a rip in the space time continuum... he will always say that his life is nothing but normal.
Welcome to his world.
All of the chapters being offered for free have only received the lightest of editing. The paid copies will be worth the money, though I know that I personally love getting stuff for free and ARC copies are the best :)
If you spot any errors, please let me know in the comments. You'll receive my forever gratitude. Plus, you know, any feedback on the story would be cool too. I've been in fandom, I've learned to grow a semi-thick skin.
ARC ONE:
Chapter One -- 2218 words (9 ms pages) Chapter Two -- 7258 words (30 ms pages) Chapter Three -- 3810 words (16 ms pages) Chapter Four -- 3936 words (16 ms pages)
Chapter Five -- 8045 words (33 ms pages) Chapter Six -- 4093 words (10 ms pages) Chapter Seven -- 6135 words (15 ms pages) Chapter Eight -- 5101 words (21 ms pages)
ARC TWO:
Chapter Nine Chapter TenChapter ElevenChapter Twelve
Chapter ThirteenChapter FourteenChapter FifteenChapter Sixteen
Spread the Love:
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Please do not steal my words. In a hundred years they are all that will be left of me.
NOVEL: The Panic Pure, by Harper Kingsley [mm suspense] – Chapter Seven
Title: The Panic Pure
Author: Harper Kingsley
Genre: mm suspense thriller
Rating: mature
Summary: Daniel Worth, billionaire and CEO of Worth Enterprises is questioned by FBI agent Marshal Newman about the disappearance of one of his employees. They strike up a conversation and soon are regularly meeting and begin dating. However neither realizes just how close danger is lurking.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Danny was both relieved to see Marshal that night and more nervous than he’d been since the first time they’d had dinner together. It was just one of those times when he could feel the words stuttering in his mouth and he didn’t seem to know what to do with his hands, so he kept knotting them together in front of himself to hide their tremble.
“What’s going on with you tonight?” Marshal finally asked, having noticed that Danny was acting strangely.
It was with a heavy sigh that Danny pushed away his dessert plate, the slice of raspberry cheesecake left largely untouched. “We need to talk,” he said.
Marshal cocked his head. “About what?”
“About what we’re doing here,” Danny said.
Marshal went completely still, a little of the color draining from his face. “What do you mean?”
“I just… I just…” Danny chewed on his lip nervously. “I was thinking that you were my friend.”
“I am your friend,” Marshal said.
Danny shook his head. “No, you are my friend, but it was pointed out to me that you were something more. I know that you… you like me, and I… I like you too.”
Marshal looked as though part of him wanted to smile, but he was still too worried about what was coming next.
“I don’t want you to realize that you’re wasting your time with me. I mean, I don’t want you to spend all your time and effort on me, only to realize when it’s too late that I’m not really what you want.” Danny looked down at the tabletop, unable to meet Marshal’s eyes. “I know that I have issues, it’s kind of one of the biggest things about me. Things happened in my past and I didn’t exactly deal with them well, but I’ve spent most of my life trying to get beyond all that. Being able to like you is something of a success for me because it shows that I’m actually making progress with my intimacy issues. But I’m still not to the point where I’m ready to do some things.”
“That’s all right,” Marshal said. “I’m willing to wait as long as you need.”
Danny smiled thinly. “You say that now, but I don’t know if you’ve quite realized how long it could be. I don’t even know how long it could be. I just know that sometimes I get so afraid I can’t even breathe or there’s some places my mind doesn’t even let me go.” He drew in a shuddery breath. “I don’t want you to end up resenting or hating me because you’ve spent your whole life waiting for something I just can’t give you.”
Marshal’s chair made a scraping sound as he stood up. He walked around the table to kneel down at Danny’s side, his hand reaching out, but not quite touching him before resting on the arm of the chair next to Danny’s elbow. “I promise you that I will be happy with whatever you are able to give me. As long as you’re trying to meet me halfway, even if things never get to the point where… well, you know… I will still be happy just to spend time with you and to be able to talk to you everyday.”
“But I…”
Marshal held up his hand. “I’m nearly thirty years old and you’re the first person in my life that I have ever felt such a deep connection to. I know it’s kind of hokey, but I believe in soul mates and I believe I’ve met mine. So if we’re not ever able to be completely physically intimate, well, me and my left hand have been close friends for a while now and I don’t think I really mind keeping up that relationship as long as I get to see you everyday too.”
A watery smile pulled at Danny’s lips. “I just…” he sighed miserably. “I hate that I’m so fucked up. I try so hard to hold myself together, but it’s like every part of me is full of cracks and things just kind of seep out.”
Moving slowly, like he was facing down a wild animal, Marshal carefully laid his hand on Danny’s knee. He didn’t clamp down or anything, just placed his hand there gently, his fingers flat and his touch light enough that Danny could pull away with no trouble. “I’m going to be honest and say that I have no idea about what all kinds of things you’re dealing with. I know that terrible things happened with your parents, but I have definitely gotten the feeling that deeper things have gone on with you. I’m not going to press you about any of that. I just want you to know that if–when–you’re ready to talk, I’ll be ready to listen.”
Danny looked at him, not quite knowing what he was supposed to do. “How can you be like this?” he asked. “You’re almost too wonderful. It makes me scared that none of this is real.”
Marshal snorted. “Believe me, I’m entirely real and I’m not as wonderful as you think I am. Just wait until football season comes around, because that’s when my personality’s true ugliness comes out in full force.”
Danny couldn’t help a little laugh. He reached out and carefully traced Marshal’s face with his hand, liking the way the man didn’t flinch back even a little. “I just want you to know what you’re getting into with me,” he warned.
“Believe me, I’m not walking into this with my eyes closed,” Marshal said. “And I really don’t want you to look at me with rose-colored glasses either. I’ve got my flaws, just like any other guy, and I don’t want you to start thinking otherwise because that’ll just lead to trouble.”
“All right,” Danny said shyly. “We can try this. I just wanted you to know that I’m not…” he trailed off uncertainly.
Marshal looked at him for a long moment, then abruptly stood up. He held out his hand. “Come on, let’s go work on your Legos.”
Danny blinked, his forehead wrinkling, then he held out his hand and let himself be pulled to his feet. He stumbled a little, but Marshal caught him. “Okay,” he said.
In his head, some part of Danny had thought things would go differently. He had pictured yelling and hours of arguing and eventually him being left alone again. He hadn’t expected calm acceptance and someone that was willing to put up with all of his mental baggage. It was going to give him some things to discuss with Dr. Landry on Thursday and she would help him understand the mix of emotions he was feeling–relief, fear, and disappointment.
He walked with Marshal out of the dining room, telling himself not to think too much and to just take things as they were.
* * *
There was this sense that some kind of terrible doom had been miraculously avoided. He couldn’t really explain it, but for a second there he had thought that Danny was going to tell him that he never wanted to see him again. The panic that had swelled through him at the idea of being shown the door had been nearly overwhelming.
He got a flash of himself curled up in the fetal position in his apartment, completely unable to function.
It was kind of terrifying to think that someone could have so much control over his life and not even realize it. It made him wonder when exactly Danny had become so entirely vital to everything that he did. He had understood that he was pretty much stumbling his way into love, but there had been no point when he had ever thought that he was reaching the point where he couldn’t live without Danny… not until he’d thought it was all going to be taken away.
Marshal sat cross-legged on the carpet watching Danny industriously click Lego pieces together.
He probably should have been insulted that the moment they’d come into the room Danny had ignored him, but he was taking the opportunity to explore his own thoughts. Plus, he’d pretty much realized that building things out of Lego was Danny’s way of coping with various situations. It was his version of hands on therapy and he needed it to be able to maintain his emotional control.
Marshal didn’t know what all had happened to Danny, but he had a dark feeling in his gut that it hadn’t been anything good. It had started with the death of his parents, but from the few times he’d mentioned his aunt, Marshal thought that if he ever saw her in person he might have to watch himself so he didn’t end up on capital murder charges.
Not that he knew for sure what had been done. He just had his suspicions, but they were strong ones.
He hated the thought that someone had hurt Danny. It was just one of those things that never should have happened and he almost frothed at the mouth whenever the idea intruded on his thoughts. He just had to force himself to face the fact that bad things had happened, but they had taken place long before he’d met Danny and there was nothing he could do about any of that. He could only deal with the man as he knew him now.
“Can you slide that tub over here?” Marshal twitched at the sudden sound of Danny’s voice.
“What?” he asked.
Danny gestured impatiently. “That tub right there of corner pieces. Can you slide it over to me?”
“Oh, sure.” Marshal pushed the tub across. He couldn’t help the surge of fondness when he saw Danny’s busy frown as he dug through the pieces to find whatever he was looking for. “Hey, can you tell me why you decided to start building cities? I mean, you could basically build whatever you want, you have enough pieces.”
Danny shrugged, clicking blocks together. “I bought a special edition model of a fire station and it was the most detailed thing I’d seen at the time. When I was done, I just got this giant surge of satisfaction, you know? So I went to look for even harder projects, but there pretty much wasn’t anything on a par with that so I ended up making them up on my own.
“I think that in another life I would have been an architect and designed my own buildings and cities. I realize that most people think my hobby is stupid, but I really enjoy doing it and it keeps me busy.” He chuckled. “You wouldn’t believe the mess I made when I tried building my first couple of projects. I tried going at them without making any plans or anything and everything got out of control. I do a lot of research on my projects now.”
“It shows,” Marshal said. “You should really think about putting your cities on display. Don’t they have like Lego competitions and stuff?”
“Sure,” Danny said, “but that’s not why I build. I’m not out to impress anyone or anything like that. I just do it for myself.”
“But they’re so good that I think people would really like seeing them.” Marshal ran a hand through his hair. “You’re a real artist.”
“No,” Danny shook his head, “I just like playing with Legos, that’s all.”
Marshal sighed. It was obvious that Danny didn’t see what he did as any kind of art, even though he put so much into it. There were definitely people out there that would love to see whole cities made out of Lego, but Danny didn’t understand that and Marshal wasn’t going to push. Not now anyway.
“Do you need anything else right now?” Marshal asked.
Danny cocked his head. “No, why?”
“Well, I was just going to go and get a soda or something from the kitchen. It’ll give me a chance to stretch my legs.” Marshal stood up. “I’ll bring you something back, okay?”
“All right.” Danny was already back to clicking pieces together, occasionally glancing at the plans he had spread out beside him on the floor.
Marshal smiled fondly at Danny’s bowed head. He was just so focused on his task.
Navigating the gigantic house was always a bit daunting, especially since he wasn’t a hundred percent certain about where exactly he needed to go. He’d been to the kitchens before, but he was usually following after Danny and not trying to make it there on his own.
It was different wandering around by himself. For one thing, the house suddenly seemed much larger, either that or he had shrunk without knowing it. There just seemed to be turns he’d never noticed before and none of the paintings on the walls looked even remotely familiar and he was really starting to wonder if he’d managed to get himself lost.
So it was with a sense of relief that he found himself in front of one of the sets of double doors that led into the kitchen. He’d really begun to worry.
He pushed the doors open and stepped into the bright room. Everything was all polished silver and every surface gleamed with cleanness. It made him wonder if Olivia had OCD like her employer, which was actually fairly amusing to him.
He was just reaching for the handle of the refrigerator when he realized that he wasn’t alone.
“What are you doing in here?”
He turned to see Arthur standing at one of the corner counters peeling an apple. The knife flashed as he cut off a chunk and brought it to his mouth. Marshal wondered if he was about to be faced with one of those crazy knife fight situations he used to think were so cool when he was a kid.
“I just came down to get something to drink,” he said.
“Why didn’t you call one of the maids? They would have been happy to bring you anything you wanted, that’s what they’re getting paid for,” Arthur said. He picked up the bowl of peels and walked over to set it down next to the sink. He then began to eat the slices he’d peeled, his teeth crunching down audibly.
“Danny was busy with his Legos and I thought he might like something to drink and I just wanted to stretch my legs a little.” Marshal didn’t like how defensive he sounded, but couldn’t help himself. “I’m really not used to the whole idea of maids and servants and all of that.”
“Hm.” Arthur finished his apple and wiped his hands together briskly.
Looking around for some kind of safe topic, Marshal shifted uncomfortably, wondering what exactly was going on here. He drew in a deep breath and tried for casual friendliness, “So, Artie, how do you like working for Danny?”
“Well, for one thing, no one but members of my family ever call me ‘Artie.’”
“But Danny calls you Artie,” Marshal said.
“Yeah, and that pretty much tells you what he is to me,” the man said, circling closer to him. “Which lets you know how I’ll feel if you end up hurting him. Do you understand?”
Marshal looked at the other man’s serious, not-quite threatening expression, and nodded. “I get where you’re coming from, and I promise that I won’t ever hurt Danny.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Arthur said. “You’ll try your best, but there’s going to be a point where you’re going to have to say or do something that will hurt Danny’s feelings. It’s a given.”
“Fine,” Marshal said, “I promise that I won’t purposely hurt Danny.”
Arthur nodded. “Fine then. You just try your best to do right by Danny and I won’t have to break your kneecaps.”
“What?” Marshal raised his eyebrows, thinking it was some kind of joke. But Arthur wasn’t laughing.
“Danny is my best friend. I’ve known him since we were kids. I saw all the shit that happened back then and I know that he got really fucked up by it.” Arthur leaned in close, his dark brown eyes staring into Marshal’s. “So you better believe there’s no way I’ll let you screw with him and get away with it. You better be serious about him, otherwise you need to leave now before he really gets hurt.”
“What about me?” Marshal asked. “You don’t think he might hurt me?”
Arthur laughed, a short barking sound. “Please. Danny’s one of those people that has been so beaten down by life that he couldn’t hurt anyone even if he wanted to. But you could really do some damage, I can see that clearly. You could break him into so many pieces that he won’t ever bounce back from it ever again.”
“I won’t hurt him,” Marshal said, matching him stare for stare. He had the feeling that if he looked away, he would lose something.
He realized why Arthur had seemed so hostile toward him. The man was worried about his best-friend, yet at the same time hoping that Marshal would be good for him.
“And what’s going on in here?” They both jumped a little as Olivia bustled out of the pantry. There was a small splatter of red sauce on her usually pristine white apron and there was a faint dusting of flour across her cheek.
“Nothing,” Arthur said, smoothly turning away from Marshal and going to sit at the wooden table. “Geez, Olivia, you look a fright.”
She patted at her hair self-consciously. “What do you mean?” she asked.
Arthur pointed. “You’ve got flour all over your face and stains on your apron. What happened, did one of your experiments blow up again?”
Olivia opened a drawer and took out a cloth. She went to the sink and ran some water over it before wiping at her cheeks. “Don’t you ever think that you’re too old for me to whip your butt, Arthur Conway,” she warned. “I was organizing things in the pantry and things got a little away from from me.” She turned to look at Marshal. “And did you need something, honey?”
Marshal shook his head. “Naw, I just came down to get a couple of sodas for me and Danny. I ran into Arthur here and we just got to talking, that’s all.”
She frowned minutely at Arthur, a warning glint in her eye. “Don’t let Arthur try to bully you. He thinks of Danny like a brother and he’d do just about anything to keep him from getting hurt. Even make a total and complete ass out of himself.”
“Olivia!” Arthur whined, suddenly sounding a lot less threatening. He went from being the best-friend warning him off from hurting Danny to being a man that was being scolded like a small child by a motherly woman that knew all his secrets.
Marshal couldn’t help smiling. It was good to know that Danny had such genuinely nice people looking out for him. It was obvious that they cared about him, from the way they made Danny look completely professional to outsiders while at the same time caring for him like a brother and son during the everyday and the way they protected his interests so fiercely.
It was nice to know that there were people willing to take care of Danny if he wasn’t able to be there.
When Marshal got back to the “game room,” he found Danny still deeply embroiled in his Lego masterpiece. It looked like he was putting the finishing touches on some kind of bridge or something, his concentration absolute.
So Marshal was a little surprised when he set the soda down next to him, to have Danny look up at him with bright eyes.
“You were gone for a while,” Danny said.
Marshal shrugged. “I spent some time listening to Olivia read Arthur the riot act. It was pretty hilarious. I kind of wish I’d had a tape recorder, because it’s the kind of thing you want to listen to over and over again. It’s good blackmail material.”
Danny smiled. “You do realize that you work for the FBI, don’t you? Should you be talking about blackmailing someone?”
“I trust you not to turn me in,” Marshal said. He sat down on the floor next to him, not so close as to be in his way, but close enough that he could feel the heat of his body, or at least imagined that he could. “I really like Olivia and Arthur.”
“I do too,” Danny said.
“Seriously,” Marshal said, “I don’t know if they really like me or not, but I could totally tell that they’re all about taking care of you, and I appreciate that.”
“You’re kind of shmoopy today, aren’t you?” Daniel leaned back on his hands, gazing at Marshal’s face. “It’s just a little off-putting, considering you’re supposed to be a tough FBI agent.”
“Did you just say ‘shmoopy’?” Marshal asked, raising his eyebrows. “And what’s the deal with the way you keep bringing up the fact that I’m in the FBI?”
“I don’t know,” Danny said. “I think it’s because I’ve been thinking about Janeane Brooks. Are you guys even close to finding her?”
Marshal sighed heavily, shaking his head. “We’ve pretty much stalled up, and even though the case is still open, it’s been moved down in priority because we don’t have any real evidence or anything to work with. Her parents are pushing for us to find her, but without any real signs of wrongdoing or a body or anything…” He shrugged. “It’s terrible, but gut feelings don’t take us too far and there’s pressure from my boss to move on to other things.”
“I can’t believe the FBI is just going to let this go!” Danny sounded honestly distressed and it was almost painful for Marshal to look into his eyes. “Her family must be frantic and now you’re telling me that she just isn’t a priority anymore? That’s terrible.”
“I know, but we’ve run out of leads and the trail has already gone cold.” Marshal popped the top on his can of soda, not because he was really thirsty, but just so he had something to do with his hands. He hated the look on Danny’s face, wanted to be the hero and wipe it all away, but he knew there was nothing he could do. “We’ll still be working the case, but we’ve already got five other cases we’re working, and two of them are confirmed murders.
“My boss has to look at the bigger picture. Janeane’s trail has gone cold and there’s no signs of foul play anywhere. She’s simply disappeared.” Marshal took a gulp of soda, letting it burn the back of his throat. “For all the FBI knows, she got tired of her job and took an unscheduled vacation to clear her head. I know it’s weird, but it happens all the time. She could show up tomorrow like nothing happened.”
“But that’s not going to happen,” Danny stated. “I feel like something bad happened to her.”
Marshal shook his head. “I do too. But Joanna and I don’t have any solid leads and there’s not really a whole lot we can do right now until we get some info to start the investigation back up again. It’s always such a shame when you realize there’s nothing to do, and without a body or some kind of evidence of foul play, there’s nothing we can do. She’s gone.”
He was surprised when Danny, giving him a long, careful look, suddenly scooted closer to him and laid his head on Marshal’s shoulder. “It’s just not right. I can’t believe one of my people could disappear without anyone noticing.”
Moving slowly so he didn’t startle him, Marshal wrapped his arm around Danny’s shoulder, squeezing him gently. He knew it was stupid and that a hug wasn’t really anything, but he felt as though they had taken a huge step forward in their relationship.
“It sucks, I know, but her case isn’t closed or anything. We’ll still be keeping our eyes out for any leads. I promise.”
Danny made a soft sound in his throat, but stayed leaning against him. The only sounds in the room were their quiet breathing and the thunder of Marshal’s heart. He felt a bit of nervous sweat trickle down his spine and had to be a little amused at his own nerves.
They stayed like that for a few, long moments before Marshal was emboldened enough to lean in and carefully kiss Danny. He made sure to give him enough room to pull away if he wanted, though he really wished he wouldn’t.
When he felt Danny tentatively respond, he felt a surge of happiness. He thought that maybe everything was going to work out.
Joanna took one look at Marshal’s face when he stumped in and threw himself in his desk chair and knew something was wrong. “What happened?” she asked.
He looked around, making sure no one was close enough to overhear, then leaned closer over the desk. “I kissed Danny last night,” he said softly.
“I know he’s ‘not your boyfriend,’ but I’m thinking that kissing him should be a good thing. So why do I get the sense that it’s not?” she asked.
Marshal shook his head. “I kissed him and he started to respond, then…”
“Then what?”
“He started crying. He cried for close to half an hour, then he just kept saying he was sorry until he fell asleep. I had to call Arthur to take him to bed.” His skin still burned from the fire in the glare he’d received, but there was no way he was pushing things far enough to try carrying Danny to his bedroom. He could have just left Danny on the game room floor, but that would have been totally wrong, so he’d had no choice but to face the dragon.
“Ouch,” Joanna said, “but you knew he had issues before you got involved with him.”
“I know,” he said. “I’ve just been trying so hard and I thought we’d gotten further than this. I mean, we had a talk last night about having a real relationship and everything.”
“You pushed him past his comfort zone,” she said, “of course he was going to freak out. He’s on such a narrow line anyway.”
Marshal sighed heavily and scrubbed his face with the palms of his hands. “We’ve come so far and I just can’t help it that sometimes I really want to go further. But I don’t want to force him before he’s ready.”
Joanna twisted two paper clips together, a worried look on her face. “Seriously, I don’t want to be mean or anything, but I think you should break it off with him before you get too invested.”
“What do you mean?” he asked, surprised. She was the one always watching those sentimental, lovey-dovey romance movies, though she would probably shoot him if he told anyone at work about them. She had a tough-girl reputation to maintain.
She looked right in his eyes. “Marshal, the guy has some serious issues. Issues that I really doubt he’s going to ever get completely passed, no matter how much you try to help him. You’re getting way too wrapped up in him and I know you’re going to get hurt.”
He sighed again. “Logically, I know you’re right. But… it’s already too late.”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
He shrugged, quirking his lips. “I love him. He’s this beautiful, fucked up person and I love him and I don’t think I’m ever going to get over that. He just kind of burrowed his way passed my guard and…”
“And now you’re going to stick it out with him even knowing you’re probably going to get hurt,” she finished.
Marshal nodded. “Yep. I know it’s stupid and I know I’m going to get hurt, but I honestly think that he’s worth all that. And I’ve decided that I will take whatever he’s able to give me and be happy with that.”
“Even if it’s just G-rated cuddling on the couch and playing with his Legos?” She raised an eyebrow at him.
His lips lifted in his first smile of the morning, realizing that he probably was a fool. “I think I’m going to the toy store after work to buy a few more Lego kits,” he said. “That’ll give us something to do tonight.”
“And what’ll you do about your blue balls?” Joanna asked, mock-seriously.
Marshal laughed a little. “I guess my left hand is going to be crazy stronger than my right by the time I go to my next physical.”
Even knowing he was facing a hard road, it felt good to laugh at himself. It just made everything seem not quite so bad.
* * *
It was strange waking up in his bed and not knowing how he got there. There was just this sense of disassociation from everything around him that he had to wonder for a moment if anything was real.
Danny pushed away the mound of pillows trying to swallow him and sat up. His sinuses ached and his eyelids felt swollen and sore. Dreams still twisted behind his brain and his body quivered with nerves. It was obvious that he hadn’t taken his pills last night and now he was going to spend the rest of the day paying for it.
He turned his head slowly to look at the clock. He felt as if his body was going to shatter to pieces if he moved too fast.
“Crap.” He had overslept and no one had bothered to waken him. He had a feeling that Arthur was to blame, had probably switched off the alarm clock and told the maids to leave him alone and let him sleep. Only now his schedule was completely ruined and there was nothing he could do about it.
A wave of helplessness went through him at the thought of his broken schedule. Always knowing where he was supposed to be and what he was supposed to do was the only thing that kept him from completely breaking down, so to find out that he had overslept was a complete catastrophe.
Feeling the panic threatening to overwhelm him, he forced himself up out of bed and toward the bathroom. His toes curled and uncurled in the carpet as he stumbled forward, his bones aching and his eyes burning.
He felt terrible, but there was nothing he could do about that. There was a reason he was always supposed to take his medication at about the same time, and he was going to pay for deviating from his schedule.
Danny reached the bathroom and fumbled open the medicine cabinet. It was hard to read the labels on the bottles, but he forced himself to concentrate until he found the one he was looking for.
He shook two of the tiny pills out onto his palm and quickly put them on his tongue, rolling them in saliva to help them melt faster. The taste was a bitter balm, one that he had long since learned not to simply spit out. That never helped anything.
It didn’t take very long for the pills to do their work. He could feel his muscles loosening and the tension flowing out of him even as the colors of the world brightened around him. The pills always made him feel as though he was both closer to reality and farther away. Things were more in focus, yet he got this sensation that nothing could really hurt him because none of it was real.
Danny closed the medicine cabinet door, carefully not looking at his own reflected eyes. This was not the kind of morning where he wanted to really see himself.
He padded back out of the bathroom and sat on the end of his bed. He still felt mildly terrible, but it didn’t seem like such an important thing.
The sun was shining through the windows and he idly had to wonder how he could have even slept with the room so bright. Usually he needed absolute darkness to be able to sleep, otherwise his brain would start working too fast for him to catch up and every shadow would become a face or form to terrorize him.
There was a light tap on the door. If he had still been sleeping, he wouldn’t have heard it.
He raised his voice, “I’m awake.”
The door opened soundlessly and Arthur came in. He was wearing his usual suit and tie and looked utterly professional, which made Danny a little embarrassed about his rumpled sleep clothes. “I’m glad you’re up.” There wasn’t an ounce of shame in Arthur’s voice. He was absolutely certain he had done the right thing in letting Danny sleep in.
“Why didn’t you wake me?” Danny demanded.
“Because you needed to sleep,” Arthur said like it was completely obvious. “After what happened last night, I figured you were going to wake up with one of your hangover things.”
“What happened last night?” Danny asked. He could tell from Arthur’s expression that it wasn’t going to be anything he liked, but there was nothing he could do about that. Whenever he lost track of time, he always had to know what had taken place, always.
Arthur looked at him sadly. “You kind of freaked Marshal out when you had an episode, then had a crying jag. He called me because he didn’t know what to do. I got you changed into your pajamas and into bed. You were so out of it that you didn’t even know what was going on.”
Danny felt a cringing kind of embarrassment go through him. “Oh no. What must he think of me?”
Arthur quickly hugged him. “Don’t worry about that. If he’s worth anything he’ll call to check on you and you can explain things to him. If not… then fuck him, you deserve better.”
“I haven’t had an episode in a while,” Danny said. “I can’t believe…” Memory flooded him and he squinted his eyes up in despair. “Oh no, he kissed me. That’s what triggered the episode. He kissed me and it wasn’t even bad and I went and freaked out on him. He must think there’s something really wrong with me!”
“There’s nothing wrong with you,” Arthur said firmly. “You might want to talk to Dr. Landry about the recent changes she made with your medication, but there’s nothing wrong with you.”
“There’s nothing wrong with the medication either,” Danny said. “It’s not the medications’ fault that I’m so screwed up.” Frustrated tears burned the corners of his eyes, but he grit his teeth and held them in.
Arthur just hugged him tighter. “You’re not screwed up. Everything’s going to be all right. Marshal will call and he’ll be completely understanding.”
“How do you know that?” Danny asked.
Arthur was fierce when he said, “Because otherwise I’m going to kill him and bury him in the backyard where no one will ever find him. And that is a guarantee.”
Danny had to laugh a little. “I’m glad you’re here to look after me.”
“There’s nowhere in the world I’d rather be.”
* * *
It was strange how watching Agent Newman had kind of put his desires on the back-burner. All that bubbling rage and amorphous want had just kind of left him in peace and he had actually begun to think that this was what a normal person felt all the time and it maybe wasn’t all that bad. A kind of easy contentment where everyday just came as it would and he could pretend that he was one of the crowd and it was going to be okay.
So when the hunger suddenly struck him, it was nearly overwhelming, like it had been the very first time.
He felt the usual sense of horror about what he was going to do, the wrongness that society had instilled in him with their insidious message of morality and all that garbage. But at the same time, there was that odd delight that was so much more powerful than the idea of right and wrong.
His was a desire that could not–would not–be denied.
All it took was one glimpse out the windshield while he waited for Newman to finish in some hole-in-the-wall bagel shop. Just a flash of glossy black hair that caught his eye until he zeroed in on the tall young man in the dark blue tracksuit with the white piping up the side. He had an MP3 player hanging on a lanyard around his neck and the earbuds were firmly planted in his ears as he paused to catch his breath after his dash across the street. He looked like a student maybe, some college kid that might be on the track team with his whole life spread out before him, a cornucopia of possibilities.
That were all about to be derailed.
There was something so delightful about knowing he had the power to destroy such a beautiful thing. He would absorb all of that power and possibility and make it his own, incorporating all of that potential into his own being, making it an indelible part of himself.
That young man could go on to make a life for himself, find a wife, have children, end up with some ultimately fulfilling career. But when Adam’s desires consumed him, all of that potential would be consumed as well, feeding Adam the energy of life and creation, imbuing him with power.
It was the purest testament to his love and the ultimate sacrifice to his hunger.
Though he rarely felt arousal, he felt a stirring in his groin at the thought of what joy he was about to share with the other man. He didn’t even know the guy’s name, but whatever it was, he was sure it would be delicious.
/CHAPTER
The Panic Pure, by Harper Kingsley
Title: The Panic Pure
Author: Harper Kingsley
Genre: mm suspense thriller
Rating: mature
Summary: Daniel Worth, billionaire and CEO of Worth Enterprises is questioned by FBI agent Marshal Newman about the disappearance of one of his employees. They strike up a conversation and soon are regularly meeting and begin dating. However, neither realizes just how close danger is lurking.
Prologue -- 2723 words (11 ms pages) Chapter One -- 3533 words (15 ms pages) Chapter Two -- 7868 words (32 ms pages) Chapter Three -- 7913 words (32 ms pages)
Chapter Four -- 6303 words (26 ms pages) Chapter Five -- 4309 words (18 ms pages) Chapter Six -- 4144 words (17 ms pages) Chapter Seven -- 6350 words (26 ms pages)
Chapter EightChapter NineChapter TenChapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Updates Scheduled to Appear*:
Chapter Three – 8/28/12
Chapter Four – 9/4/12
Chapter Five – 9/11/12
Chapter Six – 9/18/12
Chapter Seven – 9/25/12
Chapter Eight -- 10/2/12
Other Chapters: To be announced
* Updates have been scheduled in advanced. If updates do not appear on dates listed and I don’t catch it, please let me know through the comments. Thank you.
Spread the Love:
The post NOVEL: The Panic Pure, by Harper Kingsley [mm suspense] – Chapter Seven appeared first on Harper Kingsley.
All content copyright HarperKingsley.net unless otherwise stated.
Please do not steal my words. In a hundred years they are all that will be left of me.
September 18, 2012
NOVEL: The Panic Pure, by Harper Kingsley [mm suspense] – Chapter Six
Title: The Panic Pure
Author: Harper Kingsley
Genre: mm suspense thriller
Rating: mature
Summary: Daniel Worth, billionaire and CEO of Worth Enterprises is questioned by FBI agent Marshal Newman about the disappearance of one of his employees. They strike up a conversation and soon are regularly meeting and begin dating. However neither realizes just how close danger is lurking.
CHAPTER SIX
Marshal was in the midst of filling out paperwork when he looked up to find Danny’s driver standing in front of his desk. He barely kept himself from jumping in surprise–the guy was like a ghost. “Artie, right?”
The man grimaced. “Arthur,” he corrected.
“Sure, sure, is there something I can help you with?” Marshal asked.
Arthur held up a black lacquered box with etched blue cranes on it–a Japanese bento box. “Mr. Worth felt like he owed you a lunch, so here I am delivering it.”
There was a weird flutter in Marshal’s chest. “Really?” He took the box in his hands, admiring the fancy designs. Cranes standing and flying with a background of grass here and there. The box was held shut by a red elastic band that contrasted brightly. “He didn’t have to do this.”
“Of course he didn’t,” Arthur said as though it were obvious.
Marshal glanced at the man. There was nothing in his voice or words, but he was getting a definite sense that Arthur didn’t approve of him. It made him wonder what he’d done to get such a negative response from the man. “Can you tell him thank you from me?” Marshal asked. “I’m going to call him, but it’ll be nice if it comes from you too. You can tell him that you saw how I appreciate it.” He ran his fingers over the lid, liking the way the raised paint felt against his fingertips.
“Maybe you should open it before deciding you like it,” Arthur suggested.
“Oh, yeah.” Marshal slipped off the red band so he could lift the lid and couldn’t help his sigh of pleasure at the escaping good smells.
The food looked beautiful, as though it had been professionally arranged in the three-segment bento box–one large compartment and two smaller. There were four pieces of vegetable sushi and two rice balls in the main compartment along with a few slices of pickled ginger, a blob of wasabi, and a small plastic bottle of soy sauce, all on a bed of rich green parsley. The second compartment had three gyoza and two pieces of tempura shrimp in what looked like a paper cupcake wrapper, and an omelet that had been rolled and cut into what looked like a flower with pieces of decorative ginger sticking out of the top. The third compartment had some stir-fried vegetables on one side and steamed green beans on the other along with another tiny bottle of sauce. There was a small shrimp fork tucked against the side of the main compartment, just the right size for him to eat with in case he couldn’t find any other silverware.
“Wow, this looks amazing.” Marshal smiled down at the food. No one had ever sent him a lunch like this before. He’d had a few lovers in the past that had cooked for him, but it usually ended up being in apology for something they’d done–like the bastard that had cheated on him with that skinny blond twink.
“Yes, well, Mr. Worth thought you might be hungry,” Arthur said. “He felt a little bad that he was unable to enjoy the meal that you prepared, so he thought that he should make it up to you.”
“He really didn’t have to do that.” He knew he sounded stupid, but he was just so surprised.
“He prepared everything himself,” Arthur said, “though Olivia had to talk him through some of the steps.”
“That makes it even better.” Marshal had been fairly certain that Olivia had made the food, but to find out that Danny had with his own hands… “Thank you,” he said sincerely.
Arthur looked at him for a long moment, no expression on his face but something lurking in the depths of his eyes. “If you will excuse me, I need to go deliver Mr. Worth’s lunch.”
“Oh, okay,” Marshal said, waving at him. His fingers were almost obsessively brushing against the design on the side of the box. Idly, he wondered if he was supposed to return the empty box when he was finished with it.
Watching Arthur exit the office, he let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding and looked around the room. His shoulders went a little stiff when he realized that everyone was watching him, speculation on their faces.
Part of him wanted to challenge them and tell them to go back to work, but he knew better than that. If he said anything, it would just open the door to their comments. Instead, he carefully replaced the lid and elastic band on the box and slid the bento into his top desk drawer. The food looked and smelled delicious, but it was another twenty minutes before his lunch time, so it would just have to wait.
Keeping his face carefully smooth, he picked up his pen and went back to his paperwork. His heart felt a bit lighter in his chest than it had earlier, and his thoughts kept drifting to the bento and the man that had made it for him.
It was a battle to keep the silly smile off his face.
* * *
Danny was in his office looking over reports that had been couriered to him from the New York branch. It was the worst sort of boring, but it really needed to get done and he had put it off as long as he possibly could.
There was a light tap at the door before Arthur poked his head in. Danny took his appearance as an excuse to close the file and lean back in his chair. “Hey Artie,” he called.
Arthur smiled, though he didn’t look exactly happy. “I delivered your special lunch to your honey.”
“My honey?” Danny raised his eyebrow.
“What else would you call him?” Arthur asked.
“My friend,” Danny said.
Arthur rolled his eyes and threw himself into one of the chairs in front of Danny’s desk, his legs spread wide. “Your friend that you’ve been having dinner with every single night. Your friend that I’ve caught you text messaging, what is it, five times just during the morning drive? That’s what you call a friend, really?”
Danny felt heat warming his cheeks. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Arthur snorted rudely. “You’ve never text messaged me like that, and I’m your best friend. We’ve had dinner together, but you’ve never invited me over for every night in a given week.” He quirked his left eyebrow. “To me, it sounds as though you’ve got yourself a boyfriend and you’re just being stubborn about what to call him.”
“I…” Danny fiddled with his pen, his cheeks burning hot. “Do you really think he’s my boyfriend?”
“What else would you call him?” Arthur leaned forward to grab a cinnamon-peppermint candy out of the decorative cup Danny kept on his desk. The plastic crinkled as he unwrapped it. “Though personally, I think it’s a little weird to call a thirty year old man your ‘boyfriend.’ What do you think is better? Your partner? Your man-friend? Your lover?” He popped the candy in his mouth, his white teeth flashing as he crunched down.
“You’re an ass,” Danny snapped, slapping the pen down on his desk.
“What can you possibly mean?” Arthur grinned. “He said thank you for the lunch, by the way. He didn’t start eating it while I was there, but he did say he would call you later. So I guess you can expect a full on review of your labor of love.”
Danny ignored the way Arthur laughed at him when he blushed. “It wasn’t a labor of love. He came all the way here to bring me a lunch and I couldn’t eat it. I felt bad and felt like I should do something for him.”
“O-kay,” Arthur drawled, rolling his eyes. “So the next time you see me spending massive amounts of time with some beautiful woman, bringing her lunch and massaging her feet and just generally spending all of my free time with her… we’ll all just pretend that it’s friendship puppy love, right?”
“There was no foot massage,” Danny muttered.
Arthur laughed, a loud barking sound. “You’re adorable, you know that? And the expression on your face…”
“You’re terrible,” Danny said, laying his head on the desktop. “He’s my friend. That’s all I know for sure he is. He’s nice and I like talking to him and he seems to like hanging out with me.”
“And why wouldn’t he?” Arthur was suddenly serious. “You’re a wonderful person and he’d be an idiot not to realize that. You just have to decide what you want from him.”
“I don’t understand,” Danny said.
Arthur’s eyes were almost painfully sympathetic. “It’s obvious that the guy is crazy about you, though it’s not too serious yet. But it’s only a matter of time before he tries to make a move and you need to decide what you’re going to do about it and how far you’re going to go. It’s not right to just string him along.”
“I’m not stringing him along,” Danny said indignantly.
“It’s something to think about.” Arthur stood and walked to the door. “I left your lunch with Sophia. I’ve got some errands to run today, so I’ll see you later when I pick you up tonight, okay?”
Danny nodded as he left, then picked up the file to try and get back to work. It only took him a couple of minutes to realize that it wasn’t going to happen.
He set the file down and sighed heavily. He really didn’t know what he was supposed to do, since he had never been in a real relationship.
He had kind of tricked himself into thinking that Marshal was just a friend, so trust Arthur to point out the reality of the situation.
Somehow, all without his knowing it, he had managed to get himself a boyfriend–or man-friend, partner, lover, whatever he wanted to call him–and he honestly didn’t know what he was supposed to do about it.
He’d spent most of his life alone. He had adapted himself to a life of being single and had finally reached a mental plateau where he was able to look around and admit–if only to himself–that he could survive the rest of his life by himself. It would be lonely and sad and he would probably go to his deathbed with a laundry list of regrets, but he would be able to handle it.
So what was he supposed to do with the idea that someone out there wanted to be with him? Could he just let himself pretend that he didn’t understand the signs of Marshal’s affection and force them into a holding pattern of friendship? Or could he possibly let himself take the risk and someday try to return Marshal’s feelings?
Danny groaned and thumped his forehead twice against his desk. It didn’t help him clear his thoughts and it made his head sore.
He knew that he wasn’t what was commonly termed “normal.” He’d had things happen in his life–terrible things–that had changed him forever and he could no longer fit into the mold of normality. No matter that he wished things otherwise.
He chewed on his lip thoughtfully and finally nodded to himself. He would just have to be honest with Marshal and let him know that things would in no way be easy, but that he was willing to give things a chance.
* * *
Marshal could feel Joanna burning a hole in the side of his head with her eyes and more than anything he wanted to yell at her to cut it out. Instead, he gave her a steady glance and calmly asked, “What?”
She smirked. “So, word on the street is that a guy in a suit dropped off that fancy lunch for you. Dare I ask who the sender was?”
Marshal shrugged. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He double-dipped a gyoza half in sauce and popped it in his mouth.
“That’s a very fancy box that your lunch came in,” she fished, raising her eyebrows.
“Why don’t you just eat your sandwich and apple and let me enjoy my meal?” he asked.
“Because I’m super curious about how you managed to get your hands on such gourmet goods,” she said, while obligingly picking up her sandwich half–he saw that it was peanut butter and grape jelly, which only made him appreciate his food more.
“Hey, is it my fault that you have an elementary school lunch? I wasn’t the one that packed it for you this morning,” he said.
Joanna made a face, though her eyes danced. “We both know that I have about zero cooking skills. Peanut butter and jelly is just my speed, you know, unless I want to take up vending machine bingeing again. And we really don’t want to go there.”
“What you need to do is find yourself a man that knows how to cook,” he said.
“Like you did?”
Marshal couldn’t help looking around to make sure no one else was close enough to hear. Sure, the Bureau was supposed to be all about non-discrimination, but he’d lived long enough to realize that most policies were entirely dependent on the people you worked with.
“Don’t worry,” Joanna said. She took a sip of her coffee. “Even if I yelled it from the rooftops I’m pretty sure that no one here would honestly give a damn.”
“Better safe than sorry,” he said. “And shouldn’t you be drinking a juice box with your kid lunch? Coffee seems way too grown up for you.”
She snorted. “If I could have my drink of choice here at work, this coffee would have a couple of shots of Irish love in it. Especially since I’ve still gotta go through all of these reports.” She lifted a stack of files a couple of inches before dropping them with a grimace. “Why can’t we be out on the streets catching the bad guys?”
“Because we’re paperwork ninja,” he said. It was one of the sad facts of his career that he had never been shot at, threatened by anyone other than Joanna, or been able to violently take down a bad guy. For the most part, he went to work in the morning and made it home at the same time every night. “We live the life that other agents’ wives only dream of. Too bad neither one of us has any kids or anything because we’d be able to spend plenty of time with them.”
Joanna chuckled. “But at least one of us has a warm body to go home to, right?”
“Yes, I keep my body temperature to a toasty ninety-eight degrees,” he dead-panned, then ducked the pen she threw at his head. “Watch it, you could have put my eye out.”
“At least then you’d have a story of danger to tell your sweetie. It might get you some freaky death-risk smoochies.”
“Are you two discussing job related topics again?” a cool voice interrupted.
Marshal jumped a little, then turned to see that Agent Barry Landau had somehow managed to come right up to his shoulder. “Whoa, I didn’t see you there.”
“Duh,” Landau said, rolling his eyes. “You and Starkweather were too busy gossiping like girls. Shouldn’t you be working?”
“It’s our lunch break,” Joanna said, not-quite glaring at him.
Landau scoffed. “Is that all you do, come in and eat lunch and talk all day? ‘Cause you know, the rest of us are out there actually getting the job done.”
“You know what, I’m pretty sure that we’ve cleared more cases than you ever will,” Marshal said.
“Yeah, by doing all the desk work that no one else wants. You spend all day reading reports and filing paperwork. I’m pretty sure the Bureau could replace you two with a couple of secretaries,” Landau said. “Two pretty ladies instead of you two… might be nice.”
“Why don’t you crawl back under your rock or something?” Joanna growled menacingly. Marshal didn’t like how she was squishing the remnants of her sandwich in her fist.
Landau laughed. “Smooth comeback, Starkweather.” He walked off, back toward the corner where his cronies hung out.
“That guy is a real dick,” Joanna said, glaring after him.
Marshal looked at her, his eyebrows feeling like they were touching his hairline. “That’s really all you’ve got to say about him?”
She shook her head, the corner of her mouth twisting. “That’s all I can say about him at work. I’ll write up a list of his attributes and email it to you later. Off the clock.”
“You’re a real piece of work, Starkweather, you know that?” he laughed.
“Finish your food, Newman,” she said.
It was their personal joke. They had called each other by their first names from the very first moment they’d met. It was as though they had been born to be partners, there was just this instant sense of camaraderie and comfort.
He knew it was kind of stupid, but he’d waited until Joanna left to use the bathroom before calling Danny. It wasn’t like he was afraid of being teased, it was just that he didn’t want to give her any ammunition.
“Worth,” Danny answered.
“Ooh, you answer your phone like people on TV do,” Marshal teased.
“Marshal,” Danny sounded suitably pleased. “I didn’t think you were going to call.”
“How could I not?” Marshal asked. “You made me the best lunch I’ve had in a really long time. Thank you, it was delicious.”
He could almost hear the blush in Danny’s voice. “Since you tried to serve me a lunch I felt that I owed you something. I’m glad you liked it.”
“I more than liked it. I might have to have you cook for me again,” Marshal said. “I didn’t know you could cook.”
“I can’t, not really,” Danny said. “Olivia pretty much talks me through all the steps, otherwise I’d probably have burned the kitchen down years ago. Still, it’s something I like to do. I just kind of tie in various regional recipes to my… my city projects.”
Marshal leaned back in his chair. “So because you’re building Tokyo, you made Japanese food?”
“Exactly. It was while I was building Paris that I found out I really don’t like flan and that the only French food I really like is French fries.” Danny laughed. “I’m not a big egg eater, and that’s what’s in a lot of French cuisine. That and wine.”
“But you like Japanese food?” Marshal asked.
“For the most part,” Danny said. “There are some things I could really do without, but I do like eating sushi and I’ve been having a lot of fun making it and other Japanese food. I even learned how to make my own tofu,” he laughed. “It’s actually pretty easy, though I had no idea what to do with the okara at the end.”
“Okara? What’s that?” Marshal asked curiously.
“It’s the leftover stuff when you make tofu. There’s all kinds of recipes and stuff out there for it, but I wasn’t exactly enthused about the idea of eating a bunch of crumbly yuck. That’s why, next time, I’ll just use soy milk to make tofu instead of messing around with the dried beans and everything.”
“Just use soy milk? How do you do that?” Marshal was genuinely curious. He liked tofu, but he’d somehow gotten the impression that it was one of those impossible to make foods. The kind that he mentally placed in the ‘Permanent Mystery’ drawer of his mental archive.
“I was surprised, but tofu is really easy to make. Once you’ve got soy milk, you just basically heat it up and mix in a coagulant and it kind of makes itself from there. The hardest part of making tofu is cooking the dry beans to make the milk, then having to figure out what to do with the okara afterward.” Danny sighed. “Olivia said I had to eat it because I was the one that made it. It looks like crumbly white scrambled eggs or something and I hate to admit it, but I didn’t even try it.”
“What?”
Danny laughed. “Don’t tell Olivia, but I snuck it into the garbage can when she wasn’t looking. I feel bad because she went to all the trouble of making it into unohana to kind of keep with the whole Japanese food theme, but I couldn’t even make myself try it. Every time the fork got close to my mouth, I would mentally picture maggots and that was the end of me.”
“You’re very strange,” Marshal said.
“You don’t even know the half of it,” Danny said. “It’s like how I really love clams, but if I look at them when I’m eating them, I gross myself out and just can’t do it.” There was a short pause where Marshal could almost hear Danny thinking. “Do you mind that I’m weird?”
“If I minded, do you think I would want to hang out with you?” Marshal asked. “Besides, you’re really not as weird as you seem to think you are. I’ve met some honest to goodness really weird people in my life and you’re really not all that high on the list.”
“Thank you,” Danny said, which made Marshal wonder what he was thanking him for. “Are you coming for dinner tonight?”
“Unless you’re de-inviting me, I’ve got no plans to be anywhere else,” Marshal said.
“Good. Um, I…” Danny trailed off, then nearly shouted, “Well, I should let you go so you can get some work done. Um, see you tonight.”
“See you,” Marshal said, just before there was a click on the other end. He had to wonder what had made Danny act so abrupt. It had been a little odd.
“So, did I just catch you talking to lover-boy?” Joanna asked, coming up from behind him.
He jerked a little in his chair. “Jesus! What is the deal with people sneaking up behind me today?”
“It just goes to show how distracted you are,” Joanna said. “And were you talking to your main distraction?”
Marshal sighed, finally giving in. “Maybe.”
She grinned. “Ah, that’s nice.” She went around to her desk. “I expect to receive all kinds of vicarious smoochies.”
“There haven’t been any smoochies yet,” Marshal said.
She frowned disappointedly. “Really? No hot vicarious smoochies for me to mull over in the dead of night?”
“Not a single one,” Marshal said just as sadly.
“Well, don’t worry,” she said brightly, “it’s only a matter of time. One minute you’re receiving handmade gourmet meals, and the next you’ll be receiving handj…”
Marshal waved her to silence. “Uh uh, we’re not even going to go there. There’s a big leap from vicarious smooches to… well, you know.” He looked around to make sure no one else had snuck up on him. The last thing he needed was to be the generator of even more office gossip.
“Still, it’s all in the same realm of awesome,” Joanna chuckled. “I’m a lonely single woman and I take my thrills wherever I can find them.”
“Maybe you should give up the single life and find yourself someone to smooch on,” Marshal suggested.
She made an exaggerated sad face. “But all the good men are gay. I’m tired of dating complete and utter losers just because I don’t have a penis.”
“I guess that’s just your cross to bear,” he said.
“You’re a cruel, cruel man,” she said. “My not being a boy has made a misery out of my life since the day I was born. You should have heard my dad going on and on about the father-son baseball team we couldn’t join. I think he gave me a complex.”
“Which explain so much.”
“Hey! I’ve worked very hard to come across as well adjusted and fairly normal and I really don’t need you undermining my… my normalhood.”
“Your ‘normalhood’?” he raised an eyebrow. “Are we just making up words and throwing them into the conversation now?”
“Says the guy who has a boyfriend.” Joanna sighed desolately. “I’m an incredibly lonely woman that only has my cat for company and you want to bring me even lower. There’s a very good chance that I might just go home tonight, gorge myself on ice cream and pumpkin pie and gain six hundred pounds.”
“Which will really help you find a man,” he said, rolling his eyes.
She gasped, pressing her hand to her chest. “You’re such a bitch!”
He smirked at her. “I know.”
They laughed and went back to work.
/CHAPTER
The Panic Pure, by Harper Kingsley
Title: The Panic Pure
Author: Harper Kingsley
Genre: mm suspense thriller
Rating: mature
Summary: Daniel Worth, billionaire and CEO of Worth Enterprises is questioned by FBI agent Marshal Newman about the disappearance of one of his employees. They strike up a conversation and soon are regularly meeting and begin dating. However, neither realizes just how close danger is lurking.
Prologue -- 2723 words (11 ms pages) Chapter One -- 3533 words (15 ms pages) Chapter Two -- 7868 words (32 ms pages) Chapter Three -- 7913 words (32 ms pages)
Chapter Four -- 6303 words (26 ms pages) Chapter Five -- 4309 words (18 ms pages)Chapter Six -- 4144 words (17 ms pages)Chapter Seven -- 6342 words (26 ms pages)
Chapter EightChapter NineChapter TenChapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Updates Scheduled to Appear*:
Chapter Three – 8/28/12
Chapter Four – 9/4/12
Chapter Five – 9/11/12
Chapter Six – 9/18/12
Chapter Seven – 9/25/12
Chapter Eight -- 10/2/12
Other Chapters: To be announced
* Updates have been scheduled in advanced. If updates do not appear on dates listed and I don’t catch it, please let me know through the comments. Thank you.
Spread the Love:
The post NOVEL: The Panic Pure, by Harper Kingsley [mm suspense] – Chapter Six appeared first on Harper Kingsley.
All content copyright HarperKingsley.net unless otherwise stated.
Please do not steal my words. In a hundred years they are all that will be left of me.
September 12, 2012
NOVEL: The Panic Pure, by Harper Kingsley [mm suspense] – Chapter Five
Title: The Panic Pure
Author: Harper Kingsley
Genre: mm suspense thriller
Rating: mature
Summary: Daniel Worth, billionaire and CEO of Worth Enterprises is questioned by FBI agent Marshal Newman about the disappearance of one of his employees. They strike up a conversation and soon are regularly meeting and begin dating. However neither realizes just how close danger is lurking.
CHAPTER FIVE
After sharing a week and a half of dinners with Danny, Marshal figured it was his turn to do something. Which is why he was heading into Worth Enterprises at eleven-thirty in the morning, a cloth shopping bag swinging from his hand.
He headed right to the reception area. “Can you let Daniel Worth know that Marshal Newman is here to see him?”
The woman gave him a quick up-and-down look, though she was too well trained to show any kind of skepticism about his presence. “Is Mr. Worth expecting you?”
Marshal shook his head. “Not exactly. But if you let him know I’m here, I’m sure he’d be happy to see me.”
“I’m sure.” She gave him one more look over, then lifted the receiver to make a phone call. After a few seconds, she said, “Hello, Ms. Hawthorne, this is Lori from reception. I have a gentleman here that says he would like to see Mr. Worth. He said his name is Marshal Newman.”
If he hadn’t been watching her so closely, he probably would have missed the flicker of surprise that crossed her face. She was just that good at keeping her face blank. “Certainly, ma’am. I’ll be sure to send him right up.” She hung up the phone and looked at Marshal. “If you step into that elevator right there, I’ll send it right up.”
“Thank you,” Marshal said politely, walking over to the elevator. He didn’t even slow his stride when she had it slide open in front of him, just stepped inside like he wasn’t inwardly freaking out.
Worth Enterprises had gone a little overboard on their security, in his opinion at least. The receptionist had complete control of the elevator, not only opening and closing the door, but also controlling what floors the elevator went to. There was just something so eerie about not having a panel of buttons. He couldn’t help wondering what he was supposed to do if the elevator stalled out.
His stomach did the usual lurch when the elevator rose up through the building. It was such a smooth ride that he couldn’t even tell what floors he was passing through and there was no number display anywhere, which was a little creepy. There were so many options for horror movie type shenanigans that he had to force himself not to think about it.
Marshal crumpled the folds of the paper bag in his sweaty hand. It had felt like such a great idea this morning, but now he was having second thoughts about coming here. There was a very good chance that he would end up feeling like an utter tool by the end of today.
The elevator made a melodic ding sound, then the door slid open soundlessly. He had no idea what floor he was on. It was a real mindfuck, which was probably the effect the manufacturers had been aiming for.
He stepped out of the elevator and headed directly to Sophia Hawthorne’s desk. Danny’s personal assistant was typing away at an invisible keyboard–one of those laser ones that could be displayed on any surface and could only be seen by someone wearing special glasses. It was all very high-tech and was a definite corporate espionage deterrent.
Sophia’s silver-framed glasses were elegant and gave her rather pretty face a severe countenance that emphasized how serious she was about her job. The royal blue blouse, black pencil skirt, and sensible low heels she displayed when she stood up and came around her desk were just as business oriented.
“Agent Newman, are you here for official Bureau business?” she asked, her hazel eyes piercing him over the frames of her glasses. Her dark hair was pulled back in a perfect chignon, not a single wisp allowed out of place.
Marshal shook his head with an awkward smile. “No, actually. I don’t know if you know this or not, but Danny and I have been dating.”
Her perfectly groomed eyebrows rose in surprise. “Really? Mr. Worth hasn’t bothered to inform me of that yet.”
He was kind of glad she didn’t sound completely skeptical, though she didn’t sound like she believed him either. “Yeah. Anyways, we’ve been eating dinner with each other for the last week, so I thought that maybe I should…” he lifted the paper bag. “You know, food?”
Sophia’s lips pursed slightly. “I don’t know how aware you are of Mr. Worth’s particular brand of psychiatric issues, but it is highly doubtful that he will be able to eat any food that you have prepared.”
“What do you mean?” Marshal asked.
“Simply put, Mr. Worth will only eat food that his cook, Olivia, makes for him. He refuses to eat anything from the company cafeteria or from any outside restaurants. Mr. Conway usually delivers his meals for him.”
“Oh.” Marshal didn’t quite know what to say. He’d know that Danny had some serious issues… but it was kind of sad that they weren’t going to be able to enjoy a meal together in a restaurant or grab a hotdog from a shady vendor.
He drew in a deep breath. “Well, if he’s not able to eat anything I’ve brought today, that’s okay. We can just wait for his lunch to be delivered and eat together.” He licked his bottom lip. “Do you think you can let him know I’m here?”
She looked at him for a long moment, her eyes encompassing him from the top of his head to the bottom of his feet. Finally, she smiled slightly. “Happily. Just give me one moment.”
Sophia went back around her glass and metal monstrosity of a desk and approached the closed door behind it. She knocked once before going inside, the door clicking shut.
Marshal waited semi-patiently. He was tempted to head over to the couches along the wall and maybe flip through a magazine, but at the same time he didn’t want to get too comfortable if Sophia was going to come right back. He felt it would be kind of rude if he was lounging around like a sultan on his throne, flipping through fashion magazines and maybe even checking his email on his phone when he was the one that had come for a visit. It was one of his biggest flaws.
He knew what to do when he was acting as an agent of the FBI, but the rest of the time he had to just kind of wing it. He felt awkward and he never knew what to do with his hands.
The door opened and Sophia came back out with a smile. It transformed her face; she really was very beautiful. “Mr. Worth says you can go right in.”
“He’s not busy or anything?” Marshal asked, suddenly nervous. He was having definite second-thoughts, but it was too late for him to run away now.
“Nothing of real importance.” Sophia sat back down in her luxurious desk chair. “You can go right in. He’s waiting for you.”
Marshal squared his shoulders and walked over to the door. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” she called as he went into Danny’s office. There was a note in her voice that he didn’t dare to identify even as it made him blush a little.
Danny was sitting at his desk with a laptop opened in front of him, a sheaf of papers held in his left hand. There was a puzzled expression on his face when he looked up. “I wasn’t expecting you here.”
Marshal shrugged. “It was kind of spur of the moment. I wanted to see you. Plus,” he held up the bag, “I brought us lunch.”
He hated the way Danny’s face seemed to fall, his neck drawing into his shoulders and color flushing over his ears. “Oh. That was very thoughtful of you, but…”
Marshal waved a hand, stopping him. “It’s all right. Sophia explained to me that you only eat food made by Olivia. I can’t really blame you because she seriously has to be a five star chef. I think it’s kind of criminal that you’re the only one that regularly gets meals made by her.”
Danny examined Marshal’s face as though looking for any signs of mockery, then relaxed. He smiled tentatively. “I’m glad you’re not mad.”
“Why would I be?” Marshal asked. “It’s something you did long before you met me. It’s not like you just decided that my food was disgusting or something. ‘Cause you know, maybe then I would be a little hurt.”
“Still…” Danny chewed on his lip, looking at Marshal through his lashes. “I hate that I’m so strange.”
“Who said you’re strange?” Marshal walked over to sit in the chair across from Danny. “I think you’re perfect just the way you are.” He’d added that last just so he could watch him blush delightfully. There was just something so charming about Daniel Worth and his unrestrained responses. It was as though the man had never been complimented before, much less actively wooed.
He sat the bag on the floor next to his chair and started fiddling with the things on Danny’s desk. Everything was pretty strictly executive office ware, but there were plenty of multi-colored post-it notes and there was an organizer tray filled with paper clips, thumbtacks, rubber bands, and an assortment of expensive pens. “You need more toys.”
“I’ll be sure to bring a bunch in just in case you want to hang out in my office.” Danny tapped something one-handed into his computer, a minute frown drawing his brows together.
“Are you doing anything important?” Marshal asked. He was a little curious, but he didn’t even try to see over the desk at what Danny was doing.
Danny shrugged, then tossed the papers into the trashcan next to his desk. “Nothing all that important. I was just looking into the possibility of acquiring a little known software company.”
“So Worth Enterprises does software and electronics?” He had kind of a general idea of what the company did, but it was one of those corporate giants where it was impossible to know all the pots it was mixed up in.
“Not really,” Danny said. “We try to keep stuff diversified. I’m not a hundred percent behind the idea of this business, but one of the vice-president’s is really for it. I’m going through all kinds of prospectuses from various department heads for the rest of this week. So really, I’m not all that busy.”
Marshal grinned. “Good. Maybe I can visit you tomorrow too.”
“You don’t want me to get any work done, do you?” Danny sounded amused though. He tapped a few more times at his keyboard, then closed the lid on the laptop and put it in a desk drawer. “My lunch should be here soon and we can eat together.”
As though she’d heard his words, there was a quiet knock at the door, then Sophia came in with a tray in her hands. “Your lunch is here.”
As she set the tray in front of Danny, Marshal leaned down to pull one of the three-sectioned plastic containers and napkin wrapped silverware sets from the paper bag. He left the one he’d made for Danny in the bag, figuring he could eat it later himself.
“What’ve you got there?” he asked, peeking at the tray.
Danny shrugged. “Olivia made chicken enchiladas with Spanish rice, refried beans, and it looks like a fruit and yogurt parfait.”
“Ooh, that sounds pretty good.” Marshal popped the lid off his container and unwrapped his silverware from the napkin. “I’ve got Korean food. White rice, bulgogi, kimchi, bean sprouts, and some spinach.”
Danny leaned over the desk and sniffed. “It smells really good, though the kimchi looks spicy. Did you make it yourself or did you buy it?”
“I made the bulgogi and the rice, but I bought the rest.” Marshal stirred things around with his fork. “There’s a Korean market down the street from my apartment. The lady who runs it barely speaks any English and sometimes I think she makes fun of me to her friends and her daughter, but she has all kinds of fresh stuff. There’s also a bunch of Korean restaurants in the neighbor and the one with the karaoke bar is open twenty-four hours. That place has pretty much kept me from starving to death on the days when I have to work late.” He looked at Danny. “Maybe I could give some recipes to Olivia?”
Danny bit his lip, poking at his own lunch. “I’m sorry I’ve got so many issues.”
Marshal shook his head. “You don’t have any reason to be sorry.”
“But I…”
Marshal held up his hand to stop him. “You are the way you are, and I like you.”
“I like you too.” Danny looked down shyly. His eyelashes were so long that it made something clench low in Marshal’s stomach.
“Come on, you should eat your food before it gets cold.”
Marshal could tell that Danny was embarrassed, and from the length of his silences probably didn’t know what he was supposed to say next. It made Marshal ache a little to reassure him that everything was going to be all right, that he wasn’t suddenly going to flee and never come back.
They ate in companionable silence, Danny even letting him have a scoop of parfait, though he had to use Danny’s spare spoon and there were no double dips allowed. Naturally, it was delicious, all raspberry yogurt and fresh fruit.
“This was really nice, don’t you think?” Marshal said, packing his things back in the bag.
“It was,” Danny said. “It’s always great eating with you. Usually it’s just me all by himself.”
Marshal couldn’t help feeling a bit sorry for him. It just seemed to him that Danny was one of the loneliest people he’d ever met. “Well, if you ever want lunchtime company, you can always ask me to stop by. You know, unless I’ve got to work.” He made a face just to get Danny to laugh.
“Thank you.”
Marshal gave him a serious look. “You don’t have to thank me for wanting to spend time with you. It’s really my pleasure to be here.”
“I know. Maybe that’s why I want to thank you,” Danny said.
* * *
After following Starkweather around, he’d half expected Newman to be just as boring. He was pleased to find that he was only partly right.
It had been kind of curious that Newman went to Worth Enterprises just before noon, but it had become somewhat clear when Adam had followed him that evening to a mansion outside of town. And when he’d looked up the address online…
He’d giggled like a fool and hadn’t even cared. Who would have thought that someone as bland and unassuming as Agent Marshal Newman would have the balls to date a multi-billionaire, especially one that was known to be so eccentric and secretive?
There was just something so thrilling about knowing that his FBI agent was involved with someone so important. In some way, it made him feel as though Daniel Worth belonged to him too, even though he hadn’t seen the man yet. But it was only a matter of time.
When he’d run an online search about the guy there hadn’t been very much information, just his name, birth date, and a rather blurry photo that looked several years old. Now that his interest was caught, he would have to make sure that he at least got a glimpse of Worth in the flesh.
Adam parked and switched off the headlights. He wondered how long Newman was going to be with Worth… and what they were doing.
A nasty smile twisted his lips as he reclined his seat and settled in to wait. He didn’t have the largest car, but he’d made sure to choose one that gave him enough leg room to be fairly comfortable if he was sitting in it for a long time.
* * *
It was kind of funny that just when he’d pretty much resigned himself to a life of being lonely, that was when someone would walk in and want to spend time with him. He’d honestly never thought it would happen, had begun to truly believe that the only people that would ever want to get close to him like that were just out to use him.
Maybe he was fooling himself, but there was no way he could believe that Marshal had any kind of deep dark reason to come around. There was just something so honest about the man that Daniel couldn’t help trusting him.
“What are you thinking about?” He hadn’t even heard the soft sound of footsteps in the grass so was surprised when Arthur appeared next to him.
Danny shrugged one shoulder. “Do you remember when we were kids?” He glanced at Arthur out of the corners of his eyes, unable to look at him head on. “Sometimes I don’t think any of that was real.”
Arthur knelt next to him on the ground. “You were the nicest kid I’ve ever met in my life. Sometimes it was kind of scary just how nice you were. All the crap you went through… I’ve been waiting my whole life for you to crack and become some kind of monster or something.”
A sound escaped Danny’s mouth that wasn’t really a laugh because there wasn’t any humor in it. “Sometimes I think I am a monster.”
Moving so slowly it almost made Danny want to cry, Arthur reached out his hand and laid it against Danny’s arm. He didn’t grip down or anything, just rested his hand there, a mote of warmth seeping through Danny’s sleeve. “Your aunt was a real bitch. If I could go back in time I would change everything that happened then.”
“Even being friends with me?” Danny asked.
“Just the part where I was your only friend.” Arthur leaned close against his side, not-quite touching him. “I know I was just a kid myself, but I knew that what she was doing was wrong. I should have helped you more. I should have saved you.”
Danny shook his head, his face turned resolutely toward the small man-made lake in front of them. There were a couple of ducks swimming around, their feathers glinting green and gold. “There wasn’t really anything you could have done. You were just a kid and she had a lot of power. People trusted that she was doing the right things for me. She was such a pillar of the community that no one wanted to see what she really was.”
“She was a monster.” There was no doubt in Arthur’s voice. Lauren Green was a monster. She had done things to Danny in the name of money that could never be forgiven, but she had also done things for her own cruel amusements that had gone far beyond the realms of just sickening. “She hurt you just to hurt you.”
“I don’t really remember all of that.” Danny hated how his voice got all dreamy and his mind kind of hazed over when he tried to remember his past. His psychologist called it disassociation and a self-defense mechanism that had probably kept him alive and fairly sane. He just saw it as weakness and it only made him hate himself more. “I don’t want to remember all of that, but I should kind of know what happened.”
Arthur laid his head against the blade of Danny’s shoulder. His breath was warm as it stirred the hair on the back of his neck. “I’m glad you don’t remember,” he said quietly. “I was a kid and I didn’t really understand everything that was happening, but the things I did see… No, I’m glad you don’t remember everything. And I hope she burns in hell for what she’s done.”
“She’s still out there,” Danny said starkly. “She ran away when it was time for her to get in trouble. She could come back at any time.”
“I would kill her if I ever saw her face again,” there was no doubt in Arthur’s voice. “I won’t ever let her hurt you. Not again.”
Danny sighed. “She doesn’t even have to be here to hurt me. She screwed me up inside so bad that I don’t think I’ll ever be a normal person because I just don’t know how.”
“Normal’s overrated anyway,” Arthur said. “So you’ve got a few quirks, who cares? You’re still a good man, Danny. You’re still someone that people respect because you always try your hardest to do the right things for people, to help out.”
“Do you like Marshal?” Danny bit his lip slightly.
Arthur shrugged. “The question is, do you like Marshal?”
“Yeah,” Danny said. “I really kind of do.”
“Then I guess he’s all right.” Arthur lifted his head enough to be able to look right in Danny’s face. “If he ever hurts you, though, I’m going to punch him in the face. That’s kind of a promise right there.”
One side of Danny’s mouth quirked up. “You’re kind of great, you know that?”
“I know. Really though, I just feel like there should be at least one person out there protecting your honor.”
“And how did that person get to be you?” Danny asked.
“Just lucky, I guess.” There was a smile in Arthur’s voice, though it was bittersweet.
They both knew that Danny was screwed up, that all the things that had happened to him as a kid were never going to go away. He had been shaped by what had been done to him, by all the many ways he had been broken and allowed to heal wrong.
“How did you find me?” he asked quietly.
“Please,” Arthur scoffed, “where else would you be? You weren’t in with your Legos, so the only other place you could be was out here next to the lake. I just wish you’d decided to wear a jacket.”
“It’s nice out here,” Danny excused.
“It’s a bit breezy,” Arthur corrected. “You should be wearing a jacket. And maybe a hat and gloves.”
“You really shouldn’t worry so much.” Danny reached down and grabbed a small scrap of bread. He threw it in the direction of the ducks just to watch them fight over it. “I know it’s hard to believe, but human skin is pretty weather proof, especially when it’s like sixty-five degrees out.”
Arthur shifted to get comfortable, finally just lying down on his back, his hair tangling with the grass. “It is kind of a nice day. Perfect for cloud watching.”
“You know, you’re probably lying in duck poop, right?”
Arthur rolled his eyes at him. “I am planning on taking a shower later. It’s just nice to sit here with you.”
“I’m sitting, you’re lying,” Danny said.
“Yes, with duck poop in my hair.” Arthur sighed. “Do you know what’s going on with you and Marshal?”
Danny shrugged. “Not really. He just seems to like coming around for dinner with me. He’s actually going to be here later.” He chewed his lower lip. “I think he really likes me. How did that even happen?”
“Because you’re great,” Arthur said, “and he’s got eyeballs.”
“I’m screwed up. I’ve been screwed up for a long time.”
“You’re not that screwed up,” Arthur said, “and not in a terribly bad way either. In fact, I think you’ve actually been getting better.”
“What do you mean?” Danny asked, genuinely curious.
Arthur gazed up at him, his eyes tracing lazily over Danny’s face. If it had been anyone else, Danny would have been uncomfortable, but it was just Arthur. “You haven’t been so strict with your routine lately. You’ve been relaxing more and just letting things play out.”
“I didn’t even notice,” Danny said, and it was true. He’d stayed up later a few nights playing with his Legos, he’d gone to work a few minutes off schedule, and he hadn’t had a single anxiety attack over things not going exactly right.
“I know you didn’t.” Arthur grinned. “I’m glad. It means that you’re getting better.”
Danny sighed. “I don’t know what you’re getting so excited about.”
“Why don’t you feed your ducks?” Arthur said. He stared up at the clouds. It was one of those semi-lazy days that happened so seldom since they’d become adults. “This makes me think of the first time we met. You fell in the decorative pond and I had to pull you out.”
“Because I couldn’t swim,” Danny said. “Lauren didn’t want me to take lessons. She said it might detract from her investment.”
“She was a bitch.”
“Yeah.” Danny smiled a little. “My clothes were ruined by the pond water. I think I swallowed frog poop.”
“You’re disgusting,” Arthur laughed.
Danny looked at his friend and felt a burst of happiness go through him. For the longest time he had lived with the feeling that he was disappointing Arthur with his introverted personality. So to find out that he was actually doing something right…
“Don’t fall asleep out here,” he said, smiling slightly, “or I might put duck poop in your hair.”
Arthur grimaced. “Please, as though you would ever touch something that disgusting. I have met you before, you know.”
“But I’ve been more outgoing lately,” Danny said. “My obsessive compulsive disorder has been fairly well controlled. So for all you know, new-Daniel might think duck poop is perfectly okay to be handled.”
“Yeah, but you still need me to drive you around, so you’re not going to do anything to me.” Arthur closed his eyes. “Wake me up before I get sunburned, okay?”
Danny sighed. “Fine.” He couldn’t help the gentle smile that curved his lips. It was such a beautiful day today, the prettiest one he’d seen in a very long time.
/CHAPTER
The Panic Pure, by Harper Kingsley
Title: The Panic Pure
Author: Harper Kingsley
Genre: mm suspense thriller
Rating: mature
Summary: Daniel Worth, billionaire and CEO of Worth Enterprises is questioned by FBI agent Marshal Newman about the disappearance of one of his employees. They strike up a conversation and soon are regularly meeting and begin dating. However, neither realizes just how close danger is lurking.
Prologue -- 2723 words (11 ms pages) Chapter One -- 3533 words (15 ms pages) Chapter Two -- 7868 words (32 ms pages) Chapter Three -- 7913 words (32 ms pages)
Chapter Four -- 6303 words (26 ms pages) Chapter Five -- 4309 words (18 ms pages)Chapter Six -- 4144 words (17 ms pages)Chapter Seven -- 6342 words (26 ms pages)
Chapter EightChapter NineChapter TenChapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Updates Scheduled to Appear*:
Chapter Three – 8/28/12
Chapter Four – 9/4/12
Chapter Five – 9/11/12
Chapter Six – 9/18/12
Chapter Seven – 9/25/12
Chapter Eight -- 10/2/12
Other Chapters: To be announced
* Updates have been scheduled in advanced. If updates do not appear on dates listed and I don’t catch it, please let me know through the comments. Thank you.
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Please do not steal my words. In a hundred years they are all that will be left of me.
September 7, 2012
Roundup 01
Trailer For “Psycho Beach Party”
Vietnam Veteran Talks to Mitt Romney About Gay Marriage
Obama and Romney Tackle 14 Top Science Questions From Scientific American
Bill Clinton’s Full DNC Speech 2012
Trailer For Psycho Beach Party
The trailer makes it seem kind of over the top, but I actually really love this movie. Lauren Ambrose did an awesome job as Chicklet — which the trailer didn’t really highlight — a sweet and unintentionally hilarious character. Then the switch to Ann Bowman… wow. She is a great character actress.
For some reason, this movie was marketed as though it was an American Pie kind of movie, and it’s not. All the characters are pretty innocent and hyper-1960′s American TV people. Except there’s all these innuendos and every once and a while a character will have a “WTF?” moment as they realize something kind of sexual or raunchy just happened. It’s kind of like Pleasantville, though with a lot of silly humor.
This movie is also gay friendly, parodying a lot of the 1960′s beach movies. There’s a mystery to be solved, and a lot of hot guys that mostly go around with their shirts off. The murder is gruesome, but in a cartoonish manner. There’s a sexual identity crisis, multiple personality disorder, and tough women — the guys think they’re in charge, but the women are the ones going around doing everything. There’s a bit of raunch and some black humor, but as long as you can laugh about it things should be cool.
Vietnam Veteran Talks to Mitt Romney About Gay Marriage
Obama and Romney Tackle 14 Top Science Questions from Scientific American
So they went and answered some science questions. There’s a lot of politico spin on it and some definite… I don’t even know the word. Mitt Romney says he’s not a scientist and I believe him. But he is a politician, so I was still confused by his answers. Obama was a little more concise and to the point and I liked that a bit better than a long rambly answer that didn’t really answer anything.
They were both being the politician guys, which kind of disappoints me because I wanted some straight, honest answers. Science stuff is actually pretty important, and even if I’m personally too dumb to understand it… it’s still the kind of thing that shapes the way we live in the world today and tomorrow. And the President of the United States, as the Commander In Chief, is the guy that while he doesn’t know how to make flying cars himself, can point at some inventor dude and say “Get it done.” That or he’s supposed to know enough to say “This is stupid. Work on something that’s actually relevant. And please don’t tear up the environment while you do it. No more chopping down redwoods to make picnic tables.”
Here’s the link to the article: http://www.scientificamerican.com/article.cfm?id=obama-romney-science-debate.
Bill Clinton’s Full DNC Speech 2012
I didn’t see the speech as it played live because I was watching the movie Battleship (there will be a review of that coming soon) but I was kind of skimming the tweets. Then I tried to catch the rehash on CNN and they were just cutting it all up. So of course I went in search of the full speech.
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All content copyright HarperKingsley.net unless otherwise stated.
Please do not steal my words. In a hundred years they are all that will be left of me.
September 4, 2012
NOVEL: The Panic Pure, by Harper Kingsley [mm suspense] – Chapter Four
Title: The Panic Pure
Author: Harper Kingsley
Genre: mm suspense thriller
Rating: mature
Summary: Daniel Worth, billionaire and CEO of Worth Enterprises is questioned by FBI agent Marshal Newman about the disappearance of one of his employees. They strike up a conversation and soon are regularly meeting and begin dating. However neither realizes just how close danger is lurking.
CHAPTER FOUR
“So what’s got you glowing like a schoolgirl with a crush?”
Marshal jumped a little, then hunched his shoulders over his desk. He’d been pretending to work for the last hour, though he figured his goofy grin and squirming had given his daydreaming away.
“What are you talking about?” he asked, finally giving up on pretending. One look at her across from him made him a hundred percent sure that she hadn’t believed for a second that he was actually working.
“Come on, are you stupid or something? You’ve been grinning like an idiot all morning and there’s a definite ‘I’ve got a new girlfriend’ vibe hanging around you,” Joanna said. “So why don’t you just spill before I end up having to beat it out of you?”
“You know, they say it’s highly unethical to use the threat of violence to get information out of a suspect.” Marshal wriggled a little on his chair. “Besides, there’s nothing to tell. Really.”
She crossed her arms and gave him a look of such disbelief that it almost burned his skin. “You are the worst liar I’ve ever met. One look at your face and I can almost see the name of whoever you’re jonesing over. So just spill the beans so I can live through your smoochies vicariously.”
Marshal glanced around, but as usual none of the other agents were paying their corner any attention. “Don’t you ever worry that one day we’re going to get in trouble for how much time we spend gossiping and just basically not working?”
“Don’t try to change the subject,” she growled. “Tell me what’s going on with you or things are going to get pretty hardcore in here.”
Marshal sighed heavily. He could tell by the look on her face that there was no way she was going to buy his “Nothing’s going on” story. “Fine,” he said, rubbing his hand across his face. “I went out last night and had a really wonderful time, and we’re going out again tonight.”
“Ooh, that sounds sexy,” she cooed. “Tell me all about her. How did you meet? Where does she live? What does she look like? How fabulous is she and when are you getting married?”
He rolled his eyes. “Come on, we just went on our first date last night. There’s no way either one of us is thinking about getting married. And if we did think about it, that would be completely crazy considering we just met.”
“What kind of romantic guy are you?” she asked, shaking her head. “Sometimes I have to wonder what goes on in your head.”
“And I wonder what’s going on in yours,” he said. “You’ve been single for how long, and you want to tell me to just rush out there and buy an engagement ring? Pft.”
“Don’t ‘pft’ me,” she snapped. “And I’ve been single of my own free will.”
“Sure,” he said. “Why don’t we get back to work before the Director comes around and we end up on shit duty for the rest of our natural lives?”
“Fine, whatever.” Joanna went back to researching on her computer.
Marshal secretly breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed that she was going to let things go without him having to tell her anything.
“And don’t think I’m going to just let this go,” she said, not looking up from her screen. “I’m going to give you time to think on what you’re going to tell me, but I want to know everything about this girl. If she’s going to end up marrying my partner someday, then I want to make sure she’s completely on the up and up. That means full background checks and I want a meet and greet with her before you get too invested in a relationship with her.”
“Has anyone ever told you that I’m not one of your possessions?” Marshal asked.
“No,” she said.
He sighed and went back to highlighting pertinent information in his case files. They had about three cases they were working on at the moment, but one of them was in the closing report stage, which was a good thing since he didn’t want to chance missing out on dinner with Danny.
Just thinking about Danny made his lips curl in a catlike smile of pleasure, though he kept his head ducked down so he didn’t give Joanna anymore ammunition. He just wasn’t up to dealing with her questions.
After work he made his way to a department store downtown. He figured he should bring Danny a gift, though he didn’t want to get anything too personal and risk freaking him out. On the other hand, he didn’t want to give him anything so boring and banal that it seemed like the gift of a stranger. It was a pretty hard choice to make.
“Can I help you find anything?”
He twitched a little, then turned to face the saleswoman that had crept up on his left shoulder. “I don’t really think so. I’m just looking for a present for somebody, but I don’t know what I’m looking for.”
Her eyes flicked over his suit quickly, then flashed back to his face. “Well, perfume can be a nice gift, or there’s always the electronics’ section.”
“Thanks,” he said, for doing nothing. Even knowing it was kind of rude, he just walked away from her. He figured he would have better luck browsing around by himself then he would being fawned over by a lady that looked at him like she was a starving leopard and he was made out of meat.
While browsing around, he couldn’t help thinking. His mind drifting away from him while he wandered the store.
When he’d been a young boy, he’d lived with his grandparents for a couple of years while his parents “got their heads together.” His Pawpaw and his Meemaw had been together for fifty years and had still been as happy as when they’d first married. They’d had the kind of relationship that he’d only ever heard of in storybooks and on TV but had never seen in real life, where everyone seemed to be getting divorced at the drop of a hat.
He’d been ten years old when he’d asked his Pawpaw how he and Meemaw had stayed together and happy for so long. It was during one of their early morning times together making banana pancakes, freshly squeezed orange juice, and thick slices of bacon. He could still see that bright cheerful kitchen in his memory and could almost smell the good scents that had always filled it.
Pawpaw had laughed and said one of the things that kept Meemaw with him was how he made her breakfast in bed on Sunday mornings. Then he’d gotten serious, looked Marshal straight in the eye, and told him that sometimes being in love with someone wasn’t enough. The key to a relationship that lasted was communication, caring, and the ability to forgive the little things that drove you crazy without ever really letting them drive you crazy.
Then he’d told Marshal that most people never found the one person they were going to love forever. Most people just found someone that would make them happy. But he and Meemaw had been two of the lucky ones and had found each other without having to really look all that hard, though there had been some drama and a shotgun since Meemaw had had a fiance when they’d first met. But that was a long time ago, things had settled themselves without anyone getting shot, and they’d been together ever since.
“You’ll know you’ve found the right person for you when your heart aches whenever you think she’s sad, when you can’t help smiling stupidly whenever you know she’s happy, and every part of your body screams out that she’s the woman you want to spend the rest of your life with. There’s a good chance you’ll never find your soul mate, and I don’t want you to waste your whole life looking or you’ll always be alone, but if you happen to run into her by chance… never let her go.” Pawpaw had looked at him so seriously that Marshal had never been able to forget what he’d said, though later when he’d grown up he’d been forced to decide that Pawpaw was just old and soul mates were nothing but fiction.
Except everything in him screamed that he wanted to be important to Danny. He wanted Danny in his life and it didn’t matter that it was going to probably take more work than he’d ever faced in his entire life to have this relationship.
He chewed on his thumbnail as he tried to decide which smiley face mug was better, the light blue one with the smirk or the dark green with the goofy look and the crazy eyes. It had taken him nearly half an hour to realize that he didn’t want to get a gift that made him look too needy or too demanding and he’d finally decided on getting Danny a cute mug, the only problem was which one.
Finally saying screw it, he closed his eyes and used the old “Eeny meeny miney mo” technique to end up choosing the green mug. Then a second later he decided “What the hell” and grabbed the blue one too for himself.
He headed toward the front of the store and the checkout line, passing by the display cases in the jewelry section with very little attention. Until his eye was caught and held by a man’s platinum watch with a black face.
Staring down at the watch, he had to wince a little at the price tag. But there was something about it that just screamed “Danny” to him. Danny just seemed like one of those people to whom gold meant next to nothing, and platinum shone just the right amount to highlight Danny’s looks.
So even knowing that things might possibly not work out for him and he would end up broken hearted and poor, he bought the watch along with the silly mug. It was like a promise for the future, a physical manifestation of his belief that he would date Danny long enough for the watch to become an appropriate gift.
A very expensive promise that he couldn’t help wincing about when the salesman rang him up. It looked like he was going to be eating Top Ramen for a few nights after his statement came, but he could only hope the expense was worth it.
Walking through the doors toward the parking lot, he couldn’t help the little smile that quirked the corners of his lips at the thought of how happy Danny would be over the gifts. One for tonight, and one for a future he could only dream about.
* * *
He really didn’t know what was going on. There was just this sense that someone else had taken hold of his life, and that someone was maybe a little bit like him, but was mostly some adventurous newcomer that was intent on grabbing all that he could and never letting go. He had simply never felt so courageous.
He felt a little as though he was in some kind of dream. He was still himself, but he had the bravery to do all the things he had only thought about. It was a little bit like madness… creeping in through the cracks of his mind until he was doing things he had never done before and there was no room for second thoughts.
“So, that nice man is coming back again tonight?” Olivia asked, bustling over with a plate of cookies.
Though he hadn’t done it in years, Danny had found himself wandering into the kitchen and settling at the heavy wooden table. “Yes.” He didn’t know what else he was supposed to say.
She smiled at him. “That’s wonderful. It’s nice that you’ve made a friend.”
He looked at her for a long moment, then bobbed his head in a nod. At her urging, he took one of the soft, warm cookies and began to nibble at it. “It’s good.”
She had been the closest thing he had to a mother for years. She was everything that had been warm and kind and caring in his life. Hers was the only food that he was willing to eat, the only food that he wasn’t afraid to eat.
“Did you want me to make anything special for tonight?” she asked gently.
He nibbled on his cookie for a second, then glanced at the cat-faced clock on the wall. It was five minutes past five “Um, it’s too late for you to make anything really special, isn’t it?”
She set to peeling potatoes into a bowl, her large hands as smooth and graceful as an artist wielding the peeler. “Oh dear, it’s a little late for anything really over the top, but you know I would be happy to try and make you something if you wanted.”
“No, it’s alright,” he decided. “Your food is always delicious and Marshal will just have to put up with whatever you already had planned. Besides, I can’t think of anything that I really want. You always know what’s best.”
She reached out her hand for her mug of herbal tea. “You’re sweet,” she said, then took a drink, her throat working noisily.
He watched her for a long moment, feeling a little sad. She was getting older and he knew she’d been talking to some of the maids about going to live with her son and his family in Washington state. The only reason she had stayed was because she was worried he would starve to death without her. It made him feel a bit guilty. She could have been pampered by her family, but she was here instead. Peeling potatoes and baking delicious cookies.
Danny stared down at the golden wood of the tabletop. He took another cookie and stood up. “Thank you,” he said.
“You’re welcome, dear.” Olivia’s smile was sweet and motherly.
He nodded at her once more and left the kitchen.
* * *
Every time he drove up that long, winding driveway he got this fist-like sensation in his gut. It was half nerves, half an overriding need to urinate.
He parked in front of the house and grabbed the small box that held the mug before he got out of the car. His shoes made crunching sounds on the gravel as he walked toward the front door.
There was a nervous fluttering in his stomach and he had a sense that he was walking toward the rest of his life and he really didn’t want to mess anything up. To that end he had dressed carefully in an outfit that wasn’t too formal, but that he hoped wasn’t too casual. Black slacks, a blue dress shirt, and a black jacket, along with a spritz of a cologne that he didn’t think smelled too heavy. He really didn’t want to make Danny uncomfortable.
The doorbell made that eerie gonging sound when he pressed the button. It was like something from a horror movie, though the house itself was beautiful and furnished accordingly.
The door opened and a brown-haired maid was looking at him. “Mr. Newman? Follow me.”
The click-clack of her heels on the hardwood floor made him think of horses and carriages, though he would never say so. He followed her to the same dining room he’d been to before, though this time the flower arrangement in the middle of the table was yellow roses. He wondered if someone was giving him the message to back off. Then he had to wonder if he even cared.
“Mr. Worth should be here shortly,” the maid said. There was something in her tone that told Marshal not to touch anything. He just got this feeling that he had been judged and found wanting.
Nerves jangled through him, but he’d always been almost stupidly brave when it came to something he wanted, so he wasn’t going to run away unless Danny himself gave him the brushoff.
He thought about sitting at the table, but he wanted to meet Danny standing. He wandered around the room, taking in the artwork on the walls and pretending at a casualness he didn’t really feel.
His family had always been solidly in the lower middle-class. He’d grown up in a single story ranch style house and shared a bedroom with his brother Stephen. There’d been vacations to Disneyland, but only when there were discounts involved and the whole family had shared a single hotel room with the kids on cots. There had been no extra luxuries in his life and he had never missed them, was actually rather uncomfortable with the idea of such a large house and servants catering to his every whim.
There was just something about Daniel Worth that he couldn’t ignore though. Something that called out to him and made him want to get as close to the man as possible.
He’d given up on the idea of soul mates or whatever when he was a teenager, but now the idea was kind of growing on him again. The look on his Pawpaw’s face whenever his Meemaw came in the room floated in front of his eyes. That was how he had always wanted to feel about another person and knew that he never would.
Except that was kind of how he thought he would feel about Danny if he gave himself half a chance. And that was actually kind of terrifying since they’d barely even met.
He just couldn’t help himself.
He had just reached out to brush his fingers across the surface of one of the paintings–he was curious about the texture of the brush strokes–when the door opened. He jerked his hand back like a guilty child and turned to give Danny a smile.
“Hey,” he said suavely.
Danny gave him a tiny smile, seeming once again to be uncomfortable in his own skin. He was tightly wrapped up in one of his hand-tailored black suits and there was that twitchy look to his eye again, just like on their first meeting. “Hello,” he said, resolutely staring at Marshal’s chin.
Marshal sighed a little, realizing that things were going to be difficult tonight. But he was sure that Danny was worth it, so he would just soldier on. “I’m glad to be here,” he said, smiling. “So what’s on the menu tonight?”
Danny looked at him for a long moment, then his smile widened a little bit and some invisible tension in his shoulders released. “Olivia said something about Cornish game hens and stuffed summer squash along with her famous mashed potatoes.”
“I’m sure it’ll be delicious,” Marshal said. “Oh, here, I brought this for you,” he held out the little box.
“Thank you,” Danny said, though he didn’t take it for a few seconds, his fingers twitching at his side before he finally raised his hand. “You didn’t have to bring me anything.”
“I wanted to,” Marshal said. “I just saw it and thought of you.”
There was a small furrow between Danny’s eyes as he fumbled the box open. There was an air of fear about him. “Oh!” he said when he got it open. He pulled out the mug. “Thank you!”
Marshal shrugged. “Everyone likes a hot beverage, so I thought you might like something to put yours in.” He winced slightly, feeling a bit dorky even as he said it.
Danny cradled the mug in his hands. “This is really nice.” He looked at Marshal from underneath his lashes and Marshal felt a jolt go through him. There was a bit of the ingenue in that look.
“It’s just a mug,” Marshal said. “The next gift I give you will be something truly awesome.”
“Awesome?” Danny raised an eyebrow. “Do people still use that word anymore?”
“Always, yo. Dude, it’s a part of language history, man, peoples don’t be forgetting the ways of talking, fo’shizzle.” Marshal grinned at Danny’s surprised laugh. It was a nice sound that he would really like hearing more of.
“Come on,” Danny said, “dinner should be served shortly.”
They wandered over to the long table, Danny settling at the head and Marshal at the place setting on his left hand. Marshal felt a surge of delight at how Danny positioned the mug in front of himself, his fingers occasionally going out to touch the smiling face.
The door slid open and the same maid from before came in, pushing a wheeled cart before her. From beneath the metal dome lids there came some truly mouthwatering aromas that had Marshal excitedly laying his napkin across his lap and clinking his silverware around in readiness.
He glanced over and saw Danny smiling to himself. It brought a warm feeling to his chest and he just knew that he had found what he’d spent his whole life looking for, but never expected to find.
Pawpaw had been right.
Just seeing Danny smile made his heart almost burst from joy.
* * *
The way that Marshal looked at him made him feel self-conscious. He just got this feeling that the man wanted something from him, though he didn’t really want to imagine what it could be.
He’d been burned too many times before by people pretending to care for him. It was one of the reasons why it was so hard for him to trust–he still cringed at the memory of pain.
Linda gave him a sideways smile as she cleared away the dishes. “Will there be anything else, sir?” she asked.
Danny shook his head. His belly was pleasantly full and he was maybe feeling a little sleepy. “Please tell Olivia that the meal was delicious, as usual.”
“Yeah,” Marshal said, dabbing at his lips one last time with his napkin. “That has to have been the best meal I’ve had since yesterday.” He grinned, showing a dimple at the corner of his mouth that Danny hadn’t noticed before.
Once the maid left, Danny carefully pushed back his chair. “Do you want to watch a movie or something?”
“What, you don’t have any plans ready?” Marshal teased.
Danny felt heat brush his cheeks. “Sorry, I wasn’t really…”
“I’m kidding,” Marshal said, holding his hand out. “We can watch a movie, or talk, or whatever you want to do.”
Danny bit his lip. “Do you want a tour?”
“You’re really going to show me your house?” Marshal asked. “Aren’t you worried I might turn out to be an ax murderer or something?”
A chill went down Danny’s spine. He’d been trying so hard to get over his fears and phobias that he hadn’t really thought of that. Hadn’t let himself think that Marshal might be someone he’d seriously have to worry about. “I… I…”
Marshal winced. “Whoa, I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to freak you out or anything, I was just teasing you. I promise I don’t have any nefarious plans or anything.”
“It’s okay,” Danny said. “I just… I got worried for a second.” He drew in a deep breath. “That happens sometimes.”
“What, you get worried?”
Danny nodded. “Yeah. I can’t really help myself.” He had made the decision to be honest, no matter how uncomfortable it made him feel. “Sometimes I get scared even when there’s no logical reason for it. I have an anxiety disorder,” he admitted.
There was no surprise on Marshal’s face, just gentle understanding. “I see. I hope I don’t make you too nervous?”
“No, it’s all right,” Danny said, shaking his head. “I just… I thought that I should tell you myself why I am the way I am. Sometimes I just can’t help myself, and I don’t want you to think it’s your fault if I act strangely.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Marshal said. “You don’t ever need to pretend to be something different than you are. I want to get to know the real you, not the mask you think you should wear.”
“Thank you.” That was all Danny could think to say. He’d been strange in his own skin for so long that he didn’t really know how to respond to the idea of someone wanting him to just be himself.
He shifted a little uncomfortably, his fingers rubbing against the bottom of his suit jacket. “Um, why don’t I take you on that tour?” he asked.
“Sure,” Marshal said, standing up with him. “You don’t have to show me any family secrets or anything. Just whatever you’re comfortable with.”
“Don’t worry,” Danny said. “There aren’t any family secrets here because this isn’t the family home. I had this place built for me when I turned twenty.”
“Really?” Marshal cocked his head.
Danny shifted uncomfortably. “The old place has a lot of unpleasant memories.” Blood, screaming, Daddy don’t go… He closed his eyes a second to clear away the disturbing imagery. “I just couldn’t stand the thought of living there anymore.”
He looked at Marshal, waiting for him to make some kind of remark about him being weak or something. But Marshal just shrugged. “This is a really nice house. Er, mansion. I think you made a good choice.”
Danny smiled faintly. It felt as though a weight of nerves had been lifted off his chest. “Come on. Let me show you around.”
“Just promise that you’ll stay with me,” Marshal said. “I don’t want to get lost in this place. I’d never find my way back out again.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t leave you alone.”
“Excellent.” There was a low warmth to Marshal’s voice that made something shift in Danny’s stomach, though he didn’t know why.
He chose to ignore whatever he was feeling and led Marshal out of the dining room.
* * *
The house was undeniably beautiful. The architect had been aiming for a kind of old-world charm crossed with a modern functionality and had managed to hit the idea right on the head.
The only problem Marshal could see with the place was that it seemed very lonely. It was the kind of place that Daniel Worth would live, but he had a hard time imagining Danny being happy here.
He knew it was foolish to assume a close familiarity to Danny, but he already felt that he knew the man well enough to know that he deserved happiness in his life, and it was hard to imagine him finding it locked up alone in this house. No matter how beautiful and luxurious it happened to be.
“And this is one of my game rooms,” Danny said.
“One of?” Marshal asked, raising an eyebrow.
Danny looked nervous. “Well, I call them game rooms, though I don’t really play a lot of games. It’s just what my mother called the room where I used to play when I was a child, and the name kind of stuck with me.” He reached toward the door, but his hand hesitated in the air.
“Hey, what are you so worried about?” Marshal asked.
“I…” Danny shrugged. “It’s kind of embarrassing. I’m a grown man, I know that. I should have stopped playing with such things ages ago.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” More than anything, Marshal wanted to reach out and rest a comforting hand on Danny’s shoulder, but he knew better. The man was very uneasy about physical contact, and there was no way Marshal wanted to put him more on edge. “What’s in there?”
“Promise you won’t laugh?” Danny asked. He wouldn’t meet Marshal’s eyes, focused entirely on Marshal’s chin, but it wasn’t hard to see the expression on his face. He truly was worried that he was about to be mocked.
“I promise,” Marshal said, not hesitating. No matter what was in that room, there was no way he would ever mock Danny.
“Okay.” Danny drew in a deep breath and pushed the door open, stepping out of the way so Marshal could enter first.
The first thing Marshal thought when he walked into that room was that someone was suffering from a severe case of OCD. But that thought was fleeting, and mostly he was left in awe by what he was seeing.
It was a complete Lego workshop, with every piece imaginable stored in plastic storage tubs and waiting to be used. Pinned to one wall was a large sheet of blueprint paper depicting a carefully drawn diagram of Tokyo city, including notes written in a careful hand. Next to the blueprint was a glossy image of the city and surrounding area. And right in the center of the room was Tokyo itself, scaled down perfectly but still standing taller than seven feet.
Unable to help himself, he moved further into the room until he was standing right next to the model. It wasn’t completely finished, but what was there was awe inspiring. Every building was placed exactly, there were parks and fountains and windows in the buildings, everything. He half-expected to see little mini-people walking the streets, talking into their tiny cellphones.
When he felt Danny draw up next to him, he couldn’t help turning to the man with a wondering smile. “Wow, this is amazing.” Marshal was genuinely impressed. The detailing was beyond anything he’d ever imagined anyone doing.
Danny shrugged, a blush staining his cheeks. “I’ve always liked architecture, and I guess Legos just seemed like the perfect way to express things.”
“This is way beyond playing with Legos,” Marshal said, waving his hand at Tokyo. “This is full-on art. I’ve never seen anything like this, and you really made it look exactly like the real city and everything. I mean, even the completed buildings match the colors from the poster over there.”
Danny shrugged as though it meant nothing. “I just coat the finished buildings with polyurethane so they stay together, then I paint them to match the real ones. It’s time consuming and I have to watch out I don’t end up poisoning myself with the vapors, but it’s really not that impressive. When I’m all done, the entire city will be one piece and I’ll move it to another room so I can start another project.”
Marshal turned to look him right in the face. He kept moving his head until Danny was forced to meet his eyes. “This is one of the most impressive things I’ve seen in a long time,” he stated firmly. “It’s obvious that you put a lot of time and effort into your city scenes, and it shows by how realistic this looks. You have a real talent.”
Danny met Marshal’s eyes for as long as he could stand it, before he ducked his chin. His cheeks were bright red and there was a small, pleased smile tugging at his lips. “Thank you,” he whispered.
Marshal grinned. “I don’t know why you’re thanking me. I just told you the truth. You’re a Lego genius.”
“You’re exaggerating,” Danny said.
“No, I’m not. I’m sure that there are people out there that would pay tons of money to have a city built out of Legos like this. You go way beyond a little kid playing with toys, so I don’t understand why you were so embarrassed about showing me this.”
“Kids play with toys, not grown men,” Danny insisted. “The fact that I’m twenty-five years old and still play with Legos is stupid.”
Unable to help himself, Marshal slowly reached out to rest his hands on Danny’s shoulders. Beneath the expensive fabric of Danny’s suit jacket, there were his bones and sinews and all the bare skin Marshal ached to see. “You know what, you’re twenty-five years old. You can basically do whatever you want as long as it’s not illegal. Because if you do something illegal, as an employee of the Federal Bureau of Investigations I am required by law to report it. But other than the illegal stuff, you can work with Legos all you want and it’s perfectly all right.”
Danny smiled a little at his mock-serious tone. “You’re kind of strange man, do you know that?”
“Why yes, yes I do know that.” Marshal squeezed gently for a second before letting go. He didn’t want to push his luck when it came to invading Danny’s comfort zone. “Do you have any other cities hidden away in this mausoleum?”
Danny examined him closely, then licked his lips. “Really, you want to see more?”
“Sure,” Marshal said. “This is an awesome representation of Tokyo. I’m hoping you’ve got Atlantis somewhere around here too.”
“No, no Atlantis,” Danny said. “But I do have Paris, Manhattan, San Diego, and Metropolis.”
“Wait a minute, Metropolis? You’ve got a fictional city in with the real ones?”
Danny shrugged. “Everyone needs a bit of Superman in their life.”
Marshal chewed on the inside of his lip. It had been obvious on first meeting the man that Danny had some serious issues. Somewhere in his life, someone had done some terrible damage to him, and on getting to know him a little, Marshal was pretty sure that it went beyond just the death of Kevin and Leanne Worth.
“So,” he said, deliberately lighthearted, “where exactly do you place Metropolis on a map of the United States?”
“It’s hard to know where exactly Metropolis is. Most information suggests that it’s actually a fictionalized version of New York city, some people have suggested that it’s an alternate form of Batman’s Gotham city, while a lot of people want to think that it’s somewhere in Kansas, since some sources say it’s two hours from Smallville. I’m not sure where I would place it, but I like to think that Metropolis is a state of mind rather than a real place, right? I mean, Metropolis is synonymous with Superman, and in the end you can’t really have one without the other. So… and… I’m babbling aren’t I?”
“Huh. So you’re a comic book geek too?” Marshal teased.
Danny ducked his head. “I just liked reading them growing up, that’s all.”
“It’s all right,” Marshal said. “I still collect the occasional Batman, though I’m not as serious about it as I used to be.”
“Oh, and how serious are you?” Danny asked.
Marshal felt a jolt of pleasure when he realized that the other man was teasing him. “Very serious. Back in the day I was a massive collector. Nowadays, I guess you could say that I’m an average collector. You know, just every single issue as they come out, rather than the tee shirts and collectibles I used to save in my underground vault.”
“You’re being facetious, aren’t you?”
“Just a little bit.” Marshal tucked his hands in his pockets. “How about you show me the rest of your cities? I’m very curious about how Metropolis came out. Plus, I’ve always wanted to go to Paris, and I’d be kicking my own ass later if I didn’t visit it while I’ve got the chance.”
“Okay. I’ve got them in another room,” Danny said.
Following the billionaire around, Marshal felt a level of comfort that he was honestly surprised by. He probably should have been stumbling over his words and just generally making an ass out of himself, but there was just something so awkwardly endearing about Danny that Marshal was driven to reassure him through word and action.
As he was marveling over the scale model of Paris, he couldn’t help thinking that if it came down to it, he would be quite happy following Danny around for the rest of his life.
* * *
For some reason, he had thought following an FBI agent around would be a lot more interesting. He had kind of figured it would be like one of those TV shows and there would be a lot of crazy stuff like aliens and cults and witchcraft.
Instead, it was even more boring than his own life.
Slouching down behind the wheel of the car he’d borrowed from his step-mom, he sighed heavily. The only good thing that had happened so far was that he’d been able to use some of the tailing skills he’d picked up off the Internet.
Adam perked up a little when he saw Agent Joanna Starkweather walk out of the bakery with a white paper bag clutched in her fist. He idly wondered if she was going to nosh on some bagels or some donuts, then had to ignore the way his stomach growled. It probably would have been a good idea to have packed a lunch, but he hadn’t realized how bored and hungry he could get sitting in a car all day.
He kept low as he watched her walk down the street and back into the FBI office. Once she was gone, he sat up with a heavy sigh. This was boring and he figured he was done with it.
Adam picked up the small notebook he’d written all his observations in. He knew where Starkweather worked, lived, did her laundry, and her grocery shopping. He was pretty disappointed with her and how careless she was.
He’d been stressed out at the thought of following an FBI agent around, but she hadn’t noticed him at all. So either he was better at surveillance than he’d thought, or she was incredibly unobservant.
He was voting on her being unobservant.
He glanced at his watch. He didn’t have to be to work for another four hours. So he figured he might as well go to the mall and see if there was anything–anyone–interesting.
Tomorrow, he would start following Agent Newman around. Hopefully he would be a lot more interesting than his partner.
/CHAPTER
The Panic Pure, by Harper Kingsley
Title: The Panic Pure
Author: Harper Kingsley
Genre: mm suspense thriller
Rating: mature
Summary: Daniel Worth, billionaire and CEO of Worth Enterprises is questioned by FBI agent Marshal Newman about the disappearance of one of his employees. They strike up a conversation and soon are regularly meeting and begin dating. However, neither realizes just how close danger is lurking.
Prologue -- 2723 words (11 ms pages) Chapter One -- 3533 words (15 ms pages) Chapter Two -- 7868 words (32 ms pages) Chapter Three -- 7913 words (32 ms pages)
Chapter Four -- 6303 words (26 ms pages) Chapter Five -- 4309 words (18 ms pages)Chapter Six -- 4144 words (17 ms pages)Chapter Seven -- 6342 words (26 ms pages)
Chapter EightChapter NineChapter TenChapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Updates Scheduled to Appear*:
Chapter Three – 8/28/12
Chapter Four – 9/4/12
Chapter Five – 9/11/12
Chapter Six – 9/18/12
Chapter Seven – 9/25/12
Chapter Eight -- 10/2/12
Other Chapters: To be announced
* Updates have been scheduled in advanced. If updates do not appear on dates listed and I don’t catch it, please let me know through the comments. Thank you.
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Please do not steal my words. In a hundred years they are all that will be left of me.
August 23, 2012
NOVEL: Idlewile, by Harper Kingsley [idle pop idol] – Chapter One
Title: Idlewile
Author: Harper Kingsley
Genre: pop idol romance
Rating: PG-13
Chapter word count: 6760 (27 ms pages)
Summary: Idlewile is a famous pop idol. That’s all my summary-deficient brain could come up with. I really like this story, I think other people will really like this story, but I’m terrible at explaining what I’ve written.
Set in a somewhat dystopian future, George Idleston is the pop idol known as Idlewile. His page here.
IDLEWILE
By Harper Kingsley
CHAPTER ONE
He’d been munching on crackers to try and settle his upset stomach, but now the wardrobe woman was scolding him and Mingh was giving him the stink eye. It just seemed as though there was no way he could possibly win.
“What were you thinking?” Mingh’s arms were crossed tight against her chest and her mouth looked angry and pinched. “Eating a bunch of crackers right before you’re expected to sing wasn’t exactly the brightest thing you’ve ever done.”
Idle flopped backward in the makeup chair, ignoring Mary’s upset squawking as she jerked the makeup brush away from his face. “My stomach feels horrible, I think I’m getting the flu or something. It was either eat a handful of crackers, or end up hurking on the audience. What do you think was the better choice?”
Mingh sighed heavily, as though dealing with him was really such a great trial. “How are you feeling now?”
“A little less like I’m going to be sick,” he said, giving her a closed mouth smile that probably ended up looking more like a grimace.
She clicked her tongue against her teeth and glanced at her white gold and diamond watch. “There’s no time for anyone to run out and get you anything. I wish you would have said something earlier, but you’re on in five.”
“I’ll be fine,” he said. “This isn’t the first time I’ve taken to the stage when all I really wanted to do was pass out. It’ll be fine.”
“For some reason, your reassurances don’t exactly reassure me.” She shook her head, her razor cut bobbed black hair brushing her cheeks. “If you won’t be able to perform, now’s the time to tell me.”
Idle pushed Mary’s hand away from his face and stood up, tugging the blue smock off and bundling it into her arms. “I’ll be fine,” he said. He stepped up to the mirror and carefully examined his appearance for any obvious flaws. There were some fans out there that were just completely obsessed with getting shots of him looking stupid.
“You better be.”
He examined his reflection and had to admit that he looked good, even with the ridiculous amounts of eyeliner his publicist insisted was part of his image. It made him look dramatic at least, intense in a way that wasn’t natural to him.
And it deemphasized the bags he could see under his eyes. He looked like he’d just dragged himself back from a serious bender.
“I look awful,” he said, tugging at the bottom of his shirt.
“Stop fishing for compliments and get your butt out there,” Mingh ordered.
“So mean,” he muttered, then had to dodge the swat she aimed at the back of his head. “Watch the hair!”
“You watch the hair and get your ass out there and don’t screw up.”
He gave her a mocking salute, then straightened his heavily studded belt and headed toward the door. “I’m a professional,” he said, then pushed the door open and stepped out into the embrace of the big guys running security and let himself be led toward the stage.
Just having Mingh scold him that little bit had made him feel better. There was just something so nice about having someone that cared about him and not the image he presented. It was a reminder that under it all he was still just a guy.
Idle didn’t let anything show on his face when they reached the edge of the stage and a group of VIP fans were waiting there, tossing their hair and shooting him sultry looks. He gave them a brief nod and had to fight to keep from grimacing at the squeals and the grabby hands that brushed against his back before Security slapped them away.
The oldest girl–with her ultra-teased hair and her black tee shirt with his face on the front–couldn’t have been older than sixteen. There was no way he was ever going to be led down the path of jailbait, and not just because he had no interest in these particular fans.
He did his best to ignore them as he waited for his cue. They were trying their best to capture his attention, but he refused to play their games.
“And now, we are proud to present Idlewile!” the MC–Siobhen Vang–announced, and pointed right at Idle.
He drew in a deep breath and bounded onto the stage with every bit of raw energy he could produce, pasting on a big grin. He hit center stage and spun around twice on his toe and grabbed the microphone with his right hand. “Hello, everybody! Who here is looking to have a great time?” There was a seemingly wordless roar of voices that he took to mean assent. “Me too.”
The music started and lights strobed around him and the audience was nothing but a blur beyond the edge of the stage. He could have been alone under the hot lights, but he knew they were watching him–some to see him fail, but most to see him fly. It was a very powerful sensation, to know that he was the center of all of their worlds, just for this little while.
“There was a moment, when I first saw you, that I knew you were meant for me.
“My heart rushed fast and my breath stalled out, you knocked me down to my knees.”
He danced and spun and dropped to his knees on cue and it was absolutely perfect. He could feel sweat sticking his shirt to his back, but it didn’t matter at all. He just whirled like a dervish and let the music take him where it would.
“I can’t breathe when you’re not there, I’m oxygen deprived.
“I can’t make myself care about anything when you’re not there, it’s a wonder I ever survived.
“Can you feel my heart beating under my skin, pounding away to let you on in?
“You belong to me, and I belong to you, every molecule of my being is calling out to let you in.
“A single glimpse of your face, you lift me up with your grace,
“You knocked me down to my knees, so baby please, say that you’re meant for me.”
The song ended with him once again on his knees with his hands up in supplication, his chest heaving slightly from the energetic dancing. He smiled and bowed his head when the audience clapped and screamed his name or just screamed at the top of their lungs to make noise.
“That was the amazing Idlewile,” Siobhen said, striding back on stage. “Everyone give him a big round of applause. He deserves it.”
Idle stood and gave one more nod to the crowd, then turned and left the stage, his solo part of the evening’s entertainment done; for the rest, he would be one of many. He could hear the flash of cameras behind him as he headed out of the backstage area toward the waiting room where he wouldn’t have to deal with the slavering fans and their demands for his attention.
He pulled open the green room’s door and hurried inside, slamming it behind him. “Whoo, I think I need a vacation,” he said, then looked around the room.
The whole of the girl group “Shan-Wei” were huddled together in a corner, trying their best to ignore the advances of the teenaged members of “QT Pi.” It was kind of funny: the taller young women in their short black ruffled dresses with the cute and girly white bloomers underneath, and the smooth cheeked boys in their leather and chains trying their best to act all tough.
There was a bunch of actors near the snack table. He felt a perk of interest when he realized one of the women was Jessica Turan. He turned toward her, seriously considering asking her for an autograph, when his attention was caught and held.
Sitting on the reddish-orange couch against the wall were the five members of “Alta Vita.” The leader, Danny Soshin, had looked up at Idle’s entrance and met his eyes. A rather nasty sneer pulled his lips and his pretty blue eyes were narrowed and cold.
“Well, who would have thought that Idlewile himself would make an appearance here,” Soshin said, spreading his knees a little wider and giving Idle a razor blade smile. “Or didn’t you know I was going to be here?”
Idle shifted uncomfortably, finally tucking his hands in his jacket pockets. “It’s true, I didn’t know you were going to be here.” He licked his lips and looked down and away from Soshin’s eyes. “How have you been, Older Brother?”
“I’m not your Older Brother,” Soshin growled.
Idle bowed his head, his hair falling over his eyes to hide his expression. He could feel that they’d caught the attention of everyone in the room and he wanted to straighten his shoulders and pretend that everything was okay, but he just couldn’t do it.
There were only two people in the world that could make him feel this way, and Soshin was one of them. It just completely stripped all sense of pride from him.
“It’s good to see you again,” he said. He backed toward the door, reaching behind him to grab the knob. “I’m glad to know that you’re well.”
He opened the door and slipped back through. He would rather wait in the hallway than risk seeing Soshin again.
There were just too many memories and too much pain whenever they were in the same room with each other. It was simply more than he could bear.
* * *
“What was that about?” Jeremy Kines asked, nudging Chris’ shoulder.
“I have no idea,” Chris said. It had been strange and kind of sad.
Idlewile was one of those characters that popped up and disappeared just as fast, though he seemed to have enough talent that he didn’t look to be going anywhere anytime soon. He just looked so wild and untamed with his bleached blond hair and his clothes and his neatly trimmed beard.
Chris hadn’t been able to help noticing that Idlewile really wasn’t very tall. He was maybe even a little less than average height, and in person it was obvious to see that he used his clothes to make himself seem bigger and more intimidating. Just by looks alone, he had seemed as though he was about to cause trouble.
Then Soshin had said something and it was like all the sound was sucked out of the room, everyone’s attention drawn toward Idlewile’s suddenly slumped shoulders. Soshin said something else, then Idlewile was backing toward the door and quickly left.
Chris shot a furtive glance toward Soshin and saw him slumped back on the couch. Soshin reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of sunglasses, smoothly putting them on. Every line of Soshin’s body showed that he just didn’t care.
“It must be very hard for them,” Jessica’s accented voice said.
Chris turned toward her. “What do you mean?”
She gave him that fondly exasperated look he’d come to expect her face to wear. It just seemed as though that was the only way she could look at him anymore, since the romantic love had faded away for the both of them. They were still friends though, so he expected the light slap of her hand against his sleeve. “Honestly, it’s like you were raised in a cave or something. Idlewile and Soshin were in Anathema, remember them?”
“I have no idea,” Chris said.
She rolled her eyes and tossed her long golden curls back over her shoulder. “They’re an idol group, so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised you don’t know them. It was after the group broke up that Idlewile became popular as a solo act.”
“Oh.” Chris nodded his head. To him, it had just seemed as though Idlewile had suddenly appeared one day as some strange finished product–beautiful singing voice and a sense of wildness about him. He should have known there was no way someone could get that good so quickly and effortlessly.
It was just hard for him to imagine Idlewile in an idol group. He just didn’t seem like the type.
He smiled at Jessica. “Have you moved into that new place yet?”
“Yes, actually, I have. Mattie really loves her new room and is excitedly waiting to show it to you,” she said.
“I’ll stop by next weekend,” he said. “My schedule’s pretty busy until then.”
“All right,” Jessica said. “We’ll be expecting you.”
“Thanks,” he said, and he really meant it.
Jessica was beautiful and smart and funny and probably the nicest person he knew. Still, he’d been amazed by exactly how amicable their divorce had been and how easy it had been for them to make the custody agreement for Mattie. What probably should have been one of the worst experiences of his life had ended up being, while not pleasant, not all that bad.
It was tolerable.
They were even still able to talk to each other like people, and that was great.
The door to the green room opened and a stage hand stepped through, her clipboard tucked close against her chest. “It’s time for the finale,” she said, “you’re all needed in position on stage.”
Chris moved with the rest of the group toward the door. They’d all gone through the finale sequence several times in practice so he wasn’t too worried. He wasn’t that great at live performances, but he was basically just being background, so he didn’t have to do a whole lot more than walk out and smile. It didn’t seem all that difficult and it was for a good cause.
“Stars Shine Bright” was a charity benefit that practically all of the entertainment industry had gotten involved in. There were actors and actresses and musicians and sports figures and comedians, and they had all come together to raise money for children with cancer and life threatening illnesses.
From what he could tell, he figured they hadn’t done so bad. They had more than made their goal amount and the show had flowed smoothly. In all, it had been a pretty big success.
There was singing and music coming from the other side of the curtain as he took his place with the others in a neat row. Then, at a particularly loud bang effect, the curtain shot up and he was momentarily blinded by the stage lights. He moved by instinct, following the others in taking three big steps forward and swaying side to side with a big smile he hoped didn’t look too pasted on.
The main attractions for the event were singing and dancing energetically across the stage in their rather risque looking costumes–top hats and glittery vests for the men and women both, though the men wore trousers and the women wore fishnet stockings and black boots. They whirled and strutted and they sang some kind of burlesque number he’d never heard before but that he couldn’t help swaying a little to.
Then suddenly a rich voice broke out over the rest and Chris couldn’t help the way his breath caught.
Idlewile hadn’t donned a costume like the other singers and was still wearing his customary jeans and leather jacket, though he had put on a dark purple top hat and a silver and green feathered eye mask. Even from the back, his strut was all arrogant confidence and his hips rolled in an interesting manner.
Whatever Idlewile was singing, it wasn’t in English. It might have been Swedish or German, though Chris’ tin ear couldn’t be sure. All he knew was that it sounded really catchy and it was probably going to become the next hit song. The kids would totally love it, even though they didn’t understand a single word.
Chris and the rest of the background celebrities hadn’t been present during the rehearsals with the main stars and now he was kind of regretting it. The show they were putting on was wild and sexy and there was Idlewile right in the center of it all, drawing every eye to him effortlessly.
It was strange that Chris had barely even noticed the singer before, but then again he’d only heard a few of the songs and had never bothered to take a close look at the guy. But now that he’d seen him… there was no way he was getting that out of his head.
He felt an elbow nudge his side and turned his head just enough that he could see Jessica out of the corner of his eye. “What?” he hissed.
“That’s what I was wondering,” she spoke without moving her mouth; it really was quite a neat trick. “Try to look a little less deranged.”
He grunted and turned stiffly forward. Though he had to wonder if maybe he’d been making a stupid expression on live television.
Idlewile was dancing wildly with the girls from “Teen Age Dreams.” He grabbed A-Yong by the hand and spun her around almost violently, her coattails flipping when he caught her and gave her a quick dip before grabbing C-Sharp. The pink haired girl laughed delightedly, the sound rippling across the stage and out over the audience. Then Idlewile was swing dancing with B-Ko so fast that their feet barely seemed to touch the floor, her stiletto heels flashed as she showed off her sexy long legs in a quick kick-step.
Throughout it all, Idlewile was singing with the rest, right into the big finale where his voice soared upward and he abruptly snapped his mouth shut and froze along with everyone else on stage for a long moment. Then they all relaxed and Idlewile’s shoulders hitched up and down with his panting breaths and Chris wished that he’d been able to watch the show from the front instead of just seeing the backs of everyone.
He very rarely felt as though he were missing out when he was at an event, but he really wished he’d been able to see this one.
Siobhen Vang ran back out on the stage, his bright orange high-top sneakers a striking contrast against his navy pinstriped suit. “All right, everybody, that’s it for our show tonight. We all hope that you’ve had a wonderful time, don’t we guys?” He turned to face them and Chris followed the others in shouting out “Yes!”
The audience clapped and cheered and Chris waited until he could leave the stage with the rest. He was proud to have been part of such a worthwhile event, but he was tired and wanted to crawl into bed. He had a busy shooting schedule in the morning and he didn’t want to show up looking like crap.
“You guys wanna go out to eat after this?” Jeremy Kines slung an arm over Chris’ shoulder and his other around Jessica’s waist.
“I have a busy schedule tomorrow,” Chris said, then his stomach rumbled, “but I am pretty hungry. I’m not up to any kind of partying, but I could eat. What about you?” he looked at Jessica.
She rolled her head on her neck. “Well, I suppose I could stand your company for a little while longer.” She smiled that quirky smile she’d made famous. “What I’m really craving right now is a hamburger.”
“That sounds great,” Jeremy said and started tugging them toward the door.
“Wait, what about my stuff?” Chris tried to pull away, but Jeremy just tightened his grip.
“My assistants can grab all that. Geez, man, you need to get at least one PA in your life or you’re gonna go mad.”
“I’m perfectly fine,” Chris said.
They were almost to the door that would take them out of the backstage madness and open them up to the madness of fans, when there was the loud squeak of sneakers on the floor. “Excuse me!”
Jeremy let him go and Chris was able to turn and see who was talking to them, or to Jessica rather.
Idlewile was slightly out of breath and he seemed completely oblivious to all the people hovering around him, desperate to catch his attention. “Ms. Turan,” there was a faint blush on Idlewile’s cheeks and he kept his eyes downcast, “do you think I could get your autograph?” He glanced up from under long lashes. “I’m a really big fan.”
Chris glanced at Jessica and saw the pleased smile on her face. “Oh, I’m really surprised. I’d be happy to give you an autograph.”
Idlewile flashed a set of white teeth and began patting his jacket and pants pockets. His smile turned into a worried expression. “Crap, I don’t have any paper.” He frowned then looked at one of the hangers on. “Do you have paper and a pen?”
The girl nodded dumbly and hurriedly held out an expensive looking notepad and a pen. “H-h-here.”
“Thanks!” Idlewile didn’t seem to notice the way the girl swayed and would have fallen if her friends hadn’t caught her. He just turned to Jessica and held out the pen and paper with a hopeful smile. “I’ve watched all your movies. I was really excited to find out you were going to be here tonight.”
“I’m surprised,” Jessica said, “but thank you. It’s always nice to be appreciated.”
Chris couldn’t help once again admiring her cool aplomb. She’d always been so laid back and comfortable in her own skin, but he would have thought she’d have been a little rocked at least. Idlewile was a big celebrity in his own right, so it should have been very flattering to have him ask for an autograph and say he was a fan. But Jessica was taking it with ease, smoothly signing the paper and writing a quick message.
“So what are you doing now, going to an after party?” she asked chattily.
Idlewile shook his head. “Naw, I thought I’d head home.”
“Oh, well after your performance you must have burned a butt load of calories,” Jessica said. “We’re about to go get something to eat, why don’t you come with us?”
Jeremy had this expression on his face like he didn’t quite know what he was doing, but he quickly wiped it away and stepped forward. “Yeah, you should come with us. You can tell me how you did that thing with your leg and got B-Ko to flip around like that. It was nearly kung-fu.”
There was uncertainty in Idlewile’s eyes, and Chris couldn’t help wondering if no one had ever invited him anywhere before. “Well, are you sure you want me to go too?” He licked his lower lip. “I’ll have to change real quick and tell Mingh where I’m going.”
“We can all meet up there,” Jessica said decisively. She never let anything throw her. “I’m thinking Ballos. They have the best hamburgers in the city, and they have a serious no media policy.”
“Cool, I’ll call them and arrange a table,” Jeremy said. He glanced at his watch and looked at Idlewile with something approaching awe, though the singer didn’t seem to notice. “We could meet up there in about an hour?”
“Sure!” Idlewile sounded pleased and there was a rather cute smile on his lips. “I’ll meet you there!” He turned and hurried back down the hall toward his dressing room. There was an energetic bounce to his step.
“I would think he’d be exhausted after all the dancing he did,” Chris said.
“Yeah,” Jessica said.
Jeremy pushed open the door and hustled them across the lobby. “I can’t believe he’s going to eat burgers with us. This is totally going in my diary.”
“Why are you acting so stupid?” Chris asked.
Jeremy paused to give him a look. “Seriously, did you ever expect that we’d be eating dinner with Idlewile?”
Chris had to be honest. “No.”
“Exactly. He’s probably one of the most introverted guys I’ve ever heard of,” Jeremy said. “He tries to completely disappear when he’s not doing a show and paparazzi are always trying to track him down but he’s like a ghost. Haven’t you ever watched StarPop?”
“You know Chris,” Jessica said in a tone of long suffering, “he’s too good for that kind of thing.”
“Yeah, I know him,” Jeremy said.
Chris was somewhat offended. “Hey!”
“Come on.” Jessica linked her arm with his and they stepped out through the doors and faced the red carpet gauntlet to get to their shared limo, Jeremy clambering in behind them.
Chris sighed and flopped backward on the leather seat. He reached up to loosen his tie and sighed heavily. “What a night.”
Jessica had already gotten out her phone and was talking directly to Angel Ballos, her voice oozing charm as she talked him around to having a table ready for them in the back. It sounded like he was pretty busy, but there was no doubt he was going to give her everything she wanted; she’d been one of his best customers since he’d started the restaurant.
“Do you really think Idlewile is going to show up?” Chris asked.
Jeremy shrugged. “I think so. He seemed really excited about eating with us.”
“Yeah,” Chris said.
He felt a little weird at the idea of seeing Idlewile and he didn’t know why.
Ballos was the same as the last time he’d been there with Jessica. An elegant and warm restaurant that catered to celebrities and their privacy.
Angel himself met them and led them to their table. He’d clasped Jessica’s hand in his own and was happily chatting away to her about his new grandson.
They were seated in a booth in a back corner. Chris and Jessica on one side, and Jeremy on the other, a flickering candle resting on the table between them.
“We’re expecting one more,” Jessica said, “so can we just get some bread until he arrives?”
“Of course,” Angel said. “Then you must try my new recipe.”
“Sure,” Jessica said with no sign of hesitation. “What’s it called?”
Angel shrugged with a woeful expression. “It has no name yet. Perhaps I’ll name it after you if you like it. You would like that, wouldn’t you?”
Chris listened to the man flirt with his ex-wife and all he felt was amused. He ran one finger along the creased edge of his napkin, feeling the fabric.
Finally Angel bustled off and Chris looked across the table at Jeremy. “Looks like we just might end up being the maids of honor at dear Jessica’s wedding.”
Jeremy laughed. “Yeah. I can just see us all now in our beautiful burgundy brides maids dresses.”
“Please,” Jessica snorted elegantly, “burgundy is so passe. For my next wedding it will be cobalt blue all the way.”
Chris turned toward her. “I’m still invited though, right?”
“Of course.” She quirked her lips. “You’re the first one invited to all my weddings.”
They shared a warm smile and once again Chris was grateful that she was so entirely understanding and wonderful. This was the mother of his child, the woman he’d thought he was going to spend his entire life with before things had gotten so out of control. It was nice to know that she was just as beautiful as when he’d first met her.
There was the flicker of motion out of the corner of his eye, and he leaned forward to see past Jessica as a waiter led a young man to their table–or at least Chris assumed it was a young man. He was dressed all in black, from his pants to the rather bulky jacket he was wearing. He had a black baseball cap pulled low over his face and kept his head ducked down.
“And here is the rest of your party, sir,” the waiter said politely.
“Thank you,” the voice was nearly a whisper, it was so low. Idlewile peeked out from beneath his cap and looked at Jeremy. “Do you think I could sit on the inside?”
“What? Oh, sure.” Jeremy slid out of the booth and stood to one side so Idlewile could slide in, their sleeves barely brushing in passing.
“I will be your waiter for this evening. My name is Jean-Paul.” The waiter gave them a polite half-bow. “May I get you anything to drink?”
Chris and Jessica both ordered wine and Jeremy cheekily asked for a beer, but Idlewile kept his head down and asked for a soda. It made Chris wonder for a moment if the guy was even legal to drink, but it wasn’t like it was any of his business.
“Can you also get us one of the big appetizer platters?” Jessica asked. “The one that has some of everything, please.”
“Of course.” Jean-Paul nodded his head at them all, then turned and walked away.
“Hey man, I wasn’t sure if you were really going to come,” Jeremy said.
Idlewile finally lifted his head, though he kept the cap on and didn’t meet anyone’s eyes. “I didn’t know if I was going to make it,” he confessed. “There were a lot more people waiting to get my picture than I thought there were going to be. Mingh had to get me out of there.”
“And who’s Mingh?” Jeremy asked curiously.
“She’s my manager. She takes care of everything for me.” Idlewile gasped slightly and sat up straight. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t introduce myself properly.” He clasped his hands together under his chin and bobbed his head quickly. “I am George Idleston, but you can call me Idle. It is a pleasure to meet you.”
“Oh, there’s no need for formality,” Jessica said, though there was a hint of pleasure in her voice. She had a fondness for people with manners. “Do you know Jeremy Kines and Chris Hart?”
“We have not met,” Idlewile said. His eyes met Chris’ for a brief touch, though he quickly glanced back down at the table. “It is very nice to meet you.” He smiled at Jeremy shyly. “I enjoy watching your show. It’s very funny.”
“You really think so?” Jeremy cocked his head. “You should come on sometime.”
“Really? You want me on your show?” Idlewile pointed at his chest questioningly.
“Sure! It would be great and I’m sure the fans would enjoy seeing you.” Jeremy jerked his thumb toward Chris rudely. “This guy refuses to go on because he doesn’t do so well with a live audience. He freezes up pathetically.”
“Hey, that’s really rude,” Chris said.
“Rude, but true,” Jeremy said. He smiled at Idlewile, suddenly oozing with charm. “You should be on the show. I think you’d really enjoy it.”
Idlewile covered his mouth with his hand for a second, then lowered it and smiled. “Sure. Just call Mingh and tell her when you want me. She handles all the scheduling, but if you tell her I want to do it, she’ll be glad to figure things out. She’s said before that she wants me to do some variety shows, but I’ve always been too nervous to do them before. But you wouldn’t be mean to me, would you?”
Jeremy quickly masked his surprise and shook his head. He’d obviously not expected Idlewile to so readily agree to appear on Game Play. “Of course not. I always try my best to keep my guests having fun as much as possible. Happy people make better entertainment, you know.”
Idlewile smiled and nodded. “Be kind with me, and I will be happy to be on your show. It always looks like you’re having a lot of fun.”
“We do have fun,” Jeremy said, “and you better believe I’m going to call your manager and arrange your appearance on Game Play.”
“Okay,” Idlewile said softly. His lashes were incredibly long, brushing his cheeks as he kept his head slightly bowed.
Chris realized his mouth was hanging a little open and hurriedly shut it. He had just never expected someone that gave the kind of impression that Idlewile did would have the mannerisms of a shy schoolboy. He should have been the powerful singer, exuding raw sexuality from every pore; instead he was completely different from anything Chris expected. There was something oddly refreshing about it.
Chris couldn’t help the way his lips curved slightly upward.
Jean-Paul came back with a round tray with their drinks balanced on one hand and a large platter that steamed gently in his other hand. He set the tray of drinks on a nearby table, then turned to set the platter in the middle of the table between them. “Here you go,” he said, then froze for a second when he lifted his head. His eyes widened and he sucked in his breath. The pulse at his throat fluttered the surface of his skin. “You’re Idlewile.”
Idlewile nodded his head, his eyes downcast. “Yes.”
“Oh, I shouldn’t be doing this.” Jean-Paul stood up and looked around somewhat furtively. Then he leaned closer to the table. “Do you think I could maybe get an autograph later?”
“Of course,” Idlewile said. “Considering I asked Jessica Turan for an autograph earlier, how can I say no now? If you bring some paper and a pen, I’ll sign it for you.”
Jean-Paul’s smile was bright enough to light up the room. “Thank you.” He hurriedly turned and grabbed up the tray and served their drinks. He was visibly trying to get back into a professional mindset. “Are you ready to order now?”
“Angel said he wanted me to try some special thing he makes,” Jessica said, “but Chris here wants a hamburger and extra fries.”
Chris furrowed his brow at her. “Are you planning on stealing my food?”
“I really want a burger,” she whispered, giving him a pleading look. “Please share with me. I’ll love you forever.”
“You’re ridiculous.” He shook his head, then looked at the waiter. “I guess I’m having a hamburger tonight.”
“With extra fries,” Jessica insisted.
“And I’ll have the pot roast,” Jeremy said. He looked at Idlewile. “Have you ever eaten here before?” At Idlewile’s shake of the head, he grinned. “You’ve really been missing out. Their pot roast is the best I’ve ever had, even better than my grandmother’s.”
“It sounds delicious,” Idlewile said, “but can I just have some kind of vegetable soup? Anything’s fine really.”
“I’ll bring you something really good,” Jean-Paul promised. He clasped his empty tray to his chest and hurried away.
“He’s not going to tell everyone that I’m here, is he?” Idlewile asked, slumping down on the bench seat. “I don’t think I can handle it tonight.” He looked up at Jessica, all sparkly eyes and white teeth, though he only met her gaze in a flashing glance. “I just couldn’t turn down the chance to meet you, so I had to come.”
Jessica gave a delighted laugh and there was a rosy blush to her cheeks. “You’re wonderful,” she gushed. “How could I have never met you before? I think now that I have, I’ve really been missing out.”
Idlewile ducked his head, the bill of his hat covering his face. “You’re much too kind.”
“Adorable.” Jessica reached out and took one of the small plates from the middle of the platter and quickly began to fill it with some of everything. “Here. Idlewile, here.”
He looked up and Chris saw his surprised expression before he quickly reached forward and fumbled the plate from Jessica, setting it down on the placemat in front of him. “Thank you.”
“Eat up,” she ordered, wagging a slightly greasy finger at him. “You may like to wear those big clothes, but seeing you up close I can tell you’re way too skinny. I might just have a talk with Mingh to let her know she needs to take better care of you.”
“Oh, please don’t,” Idlewile said. “She’ll make my life a misery.”
“Then you need to eat more,” she commanded. “The next time I see you, you had better be a lot plumper and healthier looking than you are now.”
Idlewile looked at her for a long moment, then picked up some kind of fried roll between his finger and thumb and took a tentative bite.
Jessica watched him closely, then gave a satisfied hum and began to fill another plate with the appetizers. “You really are quite a cute boy.”
Chris chewed the inside of his lip and didn’t say anything.
Later, after they had left the restaurant and dropped Jeremy off and were on the way to dropping Chris off at his own place, he turned toward Jessica in the back of the limo. His limbs felt heavy and his eyes were sleepy and dry, but his nerves jangled in that way that told him he was going to have a hard time getting to sleep. Which was going to make going to work tomorrow terrible.
“I’m curious, why did you start treating Idlewile like that?” he asked. “I was kind of surprised he took you talking to him that way so easily. I would have thought he’d be offended.”
Jessica tsked lightly, then smiled at him cheerily before flopping sideways to lay her head in his lap. She didn’t even care that her expensive gown was getting crumpled up–her easy nature was one of the things that had drawn him to her. “You’re a man, maybe that’s why you didn’t see it, but it was obvious to me that Idlewile has missed out on a motherly figure in his life. He has Mingh, but I’ve met her before–talk about a cold fish. No, she might have given him all the practical things he needs, but I highly doubt she’s given him the affection he craves.”
“What are you talking about?” he asked. “I swear, ever since you decided to go back to school, it has been more and more difficult for me to understand you.”
She reached up to stroke a hand across his chest, a gesture she knew he liked. “It’s very simple, Chris: Idlewile is a man without a mother. He may think he’s strong and independent, but somewhere inside him he’s desperate for a positive female influence in his life, preferably an older woman that will give him all the love and affection he never got as a child. It’s very sad really.”
Chris gave her a suspicious look. “I’m onto you,” he said. “There’s no way you picked up all that tonight just from having dinner with him.”
She looked him straight in the eye for a long moment with a very serious expression, but he was firm and she finally broke. She grinned and gave a little laugh. He couldn’t help the faint surge of triumph that went through him.
“Fine, you’re right,” she said. “There’s not very much information about Idlewile out there, but it’s a public fact that he’s an orphan. And I’ve heard talk before about Mingh Cheney, like that she’s a ball buster and probably one of the coldest women anyone’s ever met.”
“So he’s a mama’s boy without a mama,” Chris said, shaking his head. “I guess that’s kind of sad.”
She sat up and crossed her arms with a thoughtful expression. “I was very surprised by how sweet he was. I would have thought he’d be very different, considering he was practically raised in fame. He certainly dresses as though he’d have a bad attitude.”
“But he was a pretty good kid,” Chris said.
“Exactly.” Jessica flashed him the corner of her eye as she faced straight ahead, a sliver of a glance. “I think I’m going to keep a closer eye on him.”
He sighed. “You’re going to make him into one of your projects, aren’t you?”
“I really think I am,” she said firmly, turning her head to look out the window. They were getting close to his house.
Chris didn’t know if he was supposed to feel sorry for Idlewile or not. Jessica could be tenacious once she decided to take someone on as a project, and there really was no denying her.
She was Jessica Turan and it was pretty much a given that the whole world should bow to her whims. And he was part of the world, so all he was going to do was watch as she pulled Idlewile into her wake as she’d done to so many in the past.
/CHAPTER
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Please do not steal my words. In a hundred years they are all that will be left of me.
August 20, 2012
NOVEL: The Panic Pure, by Harper Kingsley [mm suspense] – Chapter One
Title: The Panic Pure
Author: Harper Kingsley
Genre: mm suspense thriller
Rating: mature
Summary: Daniel Worth, billionaire and CEO of Worth Enterprises is questioned by FBI agent Marshal Newman about the disappearance of one of his employees. They strike up a conversation and soon are regularly meeting and begin dating. However neither realizes just how close danger is lurking.
CHAPTER ONE
Danny woke up every morning to an alarm that sounded like birds singing. His therapist had said the sound would be soothing; mostly he found it annoying. He just didn’t want to cause a fuss and throw it away.
He figured he would wait until it was so annoying that he couldn’t handle it any longer. Then he’d fling it with much delight into the trash can.
After lying in bed for five minutes, gathering himself together, he padded into the bathroom where he carefully shaved, swallowed his meds, then urinated.
He spread toothpaste on his toothbrush and climbed into the shower to clean his teeth, wash his hair, and scrub his body under the hottest water he could stand with antibacterial soap. By the time he stepped out, his skin was flushed pink and he could be fairly assured that he was germ free.
Thoroughly drying himself with a fluffy white towel, he headed naked into his bedroom and straight into his walk-in closet and the dresser drawer marked with the appropriate day of the week. There he dressed in white briefs, a white tee shirt, black pants, black socks, a white dress shirt, and a tie.
Then he went to one of the racks to choose a black suit jacket that he carefully removed from its plastic cover. Just pulling on his jacket, he felt as though he was anchoring himself to reality. And when he sat down to put on the black dress shoes he had removed from the shoe rack marked for that day, he felt as though he could face the world without losing himself completely.
From Monday through Friday he allowed himself to be chauffeured to work where he hurried through the building to his office, which is where his secretary would bring him his breakfast and later his lunch. He would leave the office at quarter to five to return to his house where he would tinker with his Legos until seven when his dinner would be served.
On Saturday and Sunday he would go to the library in his house and read until mid-afternoon, pausing only long enough to eat the breakfast and lunch his maid would bring him. Then he would build villages, towns and cities with his Legos until dinner.
He went to bed at ten o’clock every night after taking his nightly sleeping pill.
He figured there were some people out there that would find the regimented routine of his life boring, but he found it soothing. There was rarely a time when he didn’t know where he was supposed to be or what he was supposed to do.
Sometimes he worried that he was selfish about the way he lived. Everyone around him had to adjust their schedules to fit his issues. Even his therapist had to come to his office every Thursday for their sessions, and even though he paid for three appointments — one before and one after his own — he still felt guilty about how difficult he was being.
He simply could not help himself.
He had finished his morning routine and was heading down the stairs when the doorbell rang, surprising him.
No one ever visited him in his home. Those that knew him understood that the only people he allowed in his house regularly were the three maids, his cook, and Arthur.
Danny paused on the stair landing while Beatrice hurried toward the door. He gripped the rail with white-knuckled fingers.
“I have it, sir,” she called, her heels clacking on the floor like little hammers.
He stood frozen where he was, unable to go any further. It felt as though someone was holding his body in place, keeping him from either going down or going back up the stairs.
Beatrice opened the left side of the double doors. “Can I help you?” she asked. There was the soft murmur of voices, but it was too far away for him to make out what was being said. “Oh! Oh dear, let me see if Mr. Worth will speak with you.”
She closed the door, then turned to face him. Even twenty feet away he could read the worry on her oval-shaped face. “There are some FBI agents here, sir. They want to ask you some questions about one of the women from the company. Do you think… Would you like to speak with them?”
He hated the way she was being so careful with him, but it was the same with the rest of his staff. It just sometimes made him feel as though they thought he was going to completely fall apart at any moment.
“Br… bring them to the sitting room,” he said. “Just give me five minutes.”
He closed his eyes for a long moment, drawing in a deep breath, before reopening them and purposely walking down the stairs, placing one foot in front of the other. Right, left, right, all the way down to the black marble floor. He focused on the sounds of his feet, trying to drone out the little voice in the back of his mind that whispered ‘One, two, one, two’ with every step and sent uneasiness through him at the idea of falling through the cracks in the marble, which he knew weren’t really cracks, just flecks of color, but his feelings weren’t as logical as his mind wanted them to be.
He kept his eyes focused forward as he hurried out of the antechamber and to the sitting room door.
He felt annoyance flare through him when he saw that the door wasn’t completely closed, but cracked open. He wanted to yell at someone about it, but knew that he was feeling a ridiculous anger. His therapist had drilled it into him that sometimes people made mistakes and there were times when everything wouldn’t be completely perfect and he shouldn’t let himself give into his anger.
He pushed through the door and made his way to his favorite leather chair. No one else was allowed to even touch his chair, not even the maids. If it ever got dirty he handled the cleaning of it himself. It gave him a sense of calmness to know that his were the only hands that ever touched it.
Settling into the plush leather embrace of his personal spot, he felt serenity flow through him. The airflow and light were perfect and he knew that everything was going to be all right.
Then there was a soft knock at the door before it slowly swung open so Beatrice could poke her head in, and he felt his uneasiness spike.
“The FBI agents are here, sir,” she said, pausing a moment to see if he was going to change his mind about talking to them.
“Let them in, please,” he said, clenching his hands in his lap.
She pushed the door the rest of the way open, then stepped aside to gesture in a man and a woman in dark gray dress clothes. “You may sit on the couch there,” she said, gesturing to the couch across from him.
Danny watched them come closer to him, his eyes taking in her blond hair upswept in an elegant bun, and his dark hair that was slicked back. She was wearing subtly pinstriped dark gray trouser pants and there was a hint of lace on her white blouse. His dark blue tie was a little loose, there was a string hanging from the pocket of his suit jacket, and there was a smudge on one side of his chin, possibly from pen ink. She was possibly mid-thirties while he was in his late twenties.
“We’re very sorry to bother you,” the woman said, “but we have some questions to ask you. I’m agent Joanna Starkweather, and this is my partner Agent Marshal Newman.”
Danny just looked at the hand she held out to him for a long moment. He could see that she wore some kind of clear polish and she had neatly trimmed cuticles.
“I’m sorry, but Mr. Worth doesn’t shake hands,” Beatrice said.
“Thank you Beatrice, but you can go,” he said, giving her a strained half-smile, half-grimace. “I’m sure that I can handle it on my own for now.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, sir,” she said. “Would you like me to bring any refreshments?”
He knew that she was just looking for an excuse to be able to come back in and check on him; make sure that he hadn’t completely lost it. “No, I don’t think we need anything like that. I only have a little bit of time to give you,” he told the agents. “I… I still need to go to work today.” He had fifteen minutes before his schedule would be so out of whack that he would be facing a serious panic attack.
The agents glanced at each other, then sat down on the couch across from him. They were probably wondering what was wrong with him.
“We just wanted to ask you some questions about one of the employees at your company,” Newman said. “A Ms. Janeane Brooks. She disappeared last Thursday after work, though her car was still in the parking garage at your company.”
Danny folded his hands in his lap, staring at his fingers so he could avoid the uncomfortable look of their eyes. “Wh-what department was she in?” he asked.
Newman glanced at a little notepad he pulled out of his jacket pocket. “She was in the marketing department.”
Danny leaned over to pick his briefcase up off the floor next to his chair. It was waiting for him to take it to work, which made opening it early fairly uncomfortable, but he had always been a firm believer in helping the authorities.
He clicked open the briefcase and pulled out his phone, his fingers flying over the keys with a natural skill.
“All right, Janeane Brooks. On Thursday she was wearing a black pencil skirt and a dark purple blouse. She arrived at work nearly ten minutes late and left seven minutes early. She was very good at her job,” he said, glancing up at them quickly before looking back at his screen, “but she had been leaving early and arriving late to work for nearly two weeks. She was about to receive a reprimand in her permanent file about it.”
“How do you know that information?” Starkweather asked. “Did you know Janeane personally?”
Danny shook his head. “No, I didn’t. I just… I have notes on every employee that works on my floor of the building. I just… I have to keep track of some information on them or I can’t be there in the same area as them.”
“So you take notes on how many employees exactly?” Newman asked.
“Twenty-five employees,” he said. “I keep five days worth of notes, then Sophia backs them up on her computer and clears them off my phone.”
“Sophia?” Newman asked.
Danny nodded. “Sophia Hawthorne, my personal assistant.”
“So you have detailed notes about Janeane’s comings and goings from the company?” Starkweather asked.
“Her clock in and out times, what she was wearing, what projects she was handling, and whether she received visitors or not,” Danny said. “Its really not that much when you think about it.”
“Do you think we can get a copy of that information?” Newman asked.
“Of course,” Danny said. “If you come by Worth Enterprises today I’ll have Sophia give you a copy of Janeane’s information. I think I remember that she had a visitor last Monday, but that information’s already off my phone.”
“We’ll be happy to accept any assistance you can give us,” Newman said. “We’re really hoping that we’ll find Janeane alive.”
“Me too,” Danny said. He felt bad that he hadn’t even known she was “missing” missing. He had simply thought that she had taken her slacking ways too far and just begun skipping work.
The thought that she might be somewhere being hurt or killed made uneasiness roll through his belly. He comforted himself with the thought that if things got too bad he could always take one of his stronger anti-anxiety meds. Though he knew if he took one of those there was no way he was making it in to work today. Alprazolam always knocked him on his ass for a pretty long while.
Just thinking about taking the medicine calmed him down some. If it had been someone that he really knew and personally interacted with on a daily basis, he knew things would be much worse then this. For right now though, she was pretty much just an idea of a person: an outfit, a hairstyle, a face poking out of the crowd. Nothing that really had anything to do with him.
“I’m sorry I can’t help you more,” he said, flicking his eyes up just long enough to brush across Starkweather’s. “I don’t really know her though. So just come by and pick up the info. The sooner she’s found the better. We don’t want anything bad to happen to her. She seemed like a very nice girl.”
He twitched his fingers, trying to focus on the movements so that he didn’t have to think about the poor girl being hurt, killed. Unpleasant images flashed across his mind, and he really didn’t want to dwell on them. More than anything, he wanted to go to his game room and work on his new Lego project–a perfect recreation of Tokyo city. But he knew that if he did there was a possibility he would never come back.
He needed to stick to his schedule or anarchy would rule his life and everything would just slip right through his fingers. And he had worked too hard to ever willingly let that happen.
“Um, I need to go to work,” he said, glancing down at his watch. Arthur was probably already waiting in the car for him. He didn’t think he would be able to stand the stress of being late to work on top of everything else.
“Do you think we could talk for a few minutes more?” Starkweather asked.
He looked at his watch again, then quickly shook his head. “No, no, I have to go to work. I’m going to be late if I don’t leave right now and I can’t be late, I can’t.” He stuck the phone back in his briefcase and clicked it shut.
The agents stood when he did, which made him do an odd sideways shuffle away from their sudden close proximity. He could almost feel the oxygen being sucked out of the room.
“I need to go,” he said. “Just come by the office later and Sophia will give you whatever you need.”
“All right, Mr. Worth,” Starkweather said, her voice oddly gentle. “We’ll come by your office later. And if we have any more questions?”
“You can ask them of me in my office,” he said, where it was safe. “I’ll be happy to help you anyway that I can, but,” he glanced at his watch again, “I really need to go now. Really need to go.”
“Thank you for talking with us,” Newman said, his voice just as sharp as before.
Danny quickly glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, then focused again on his collarbone. “I have to go,” he said, sidling toward the door.
As he was leaving, he thought he heard the male agent say, “That was weird,” and it made him flush with embarrassment.
He tried so hard to be normal, but he knew that he was never going to be like everyone else. He was always going to be the weird guy, the one everyone had to be careful of because he could break at any minute.
Sometimes he had dreams where everything was completely different–where he was completely different–but when the morning came it was always the same. And the only thing that really held him together was the routine he so carefully stuck to.
And right now, he really needed to go to work. Really.
* * *
“So that was Daniel Worth, huh?” Marshal said.
Joanna clicked her key fob to unlock the car doors. “Yep. I don’t think he was lying to us or anything, but that’s one guy with some serious issues.”
“Yeah. He seems just a few strings short when it comes to the mental department,” Marshal said.
“Well, it’s kind of a shame, you know,” she said, slipping into the driver’s seat.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“I thought you knew about him before we came out here?” Joanna asked.
“It was kind of short notice,” he said. “And you were pretty late picking me up this morning.”
“Nag, nag, nag.” She backed the car up and spun it around to drive back down the half-mile long driveway. “Anyways, it was kind of a horror story what happened to him. Back about sixteen years ago–when he was nine–a group of men broke into his house and his father, Kevin Worth, grabbed him up and locked them both in the panic room. They were in there for close to two days and the thieves managed to block any communications out so they couldn’t even call for help.”
“Well, that’s traumatic, but it doesn’t seem that bad,” Marshal said.
She snorted. “Yeah, except Leanne Worth was killed when the men broke in and then Kevin Worth was gut shot getting his son into the panic room. He bled to death over the course of a day, then the boy was trapped in there with his dead body until he was rescued. When they pulled him out of there he was covered with blood and they had to drag him away from his father’s body. And then on top of all that, they never caught the guys that did it. They just disappeared off the face of the earth.”
“Holy shit, but that’s fucked up,” he said, grimacing.
“Yeah. It’s no wonder the guy has some serious mental issues. I feel bad for him.”
Marshal nibbled on his thumb nail, thinking of a poor kid trapped in a locked room with killers on the other side, his father slowly bleeding to death by his side. “Yeah. That sounds pretty bad.”
“Pretty bad? Is it any wonder that the guy is a complete nutcase?”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, he’s not that bad,” Marshal said. “He seems to be holding himself together pretty good. Sure, he comes off as a little tightly wound, but how would you be if you lived through what he did? Still, he didn’t hesitate a second with the idea of helping us.”
“Wow, when did the guy become your boyfriend?” Joanna said, accelerating out of the driveway and onto the open road.
“Shut up,” he said, not able to explain why his cheeks burned. “I just sympathize with what the poor guy went through. That kind of traumatic experience as a child, and he’s not in a nut-house somewhere? That’s some kind of personal strength he’s got there.”
“Uh huh,” she said, not even glancing at him.
He fought the sensation that she was judging him and reached forward to open the glove box. He knew there were some cinnamon breath mints in there and he really needed something to distract him. “So, do you want to go straight to Worth Enterprises?”
“Let’s swing by Denny’s first. I’m starving,” she said. “I was running so late this morning that I didn’t eat anything before I came to pick you up.”
He sighed, though he gave her a smile. “I guess I can eat again. That bagel I had might like to have some delicious eggs, bacon and hash browns as companions.”
“You’re such a nerd,” she said.
“I try.”
* * *
There was something so soothing about the sound of the ocean. The sand was nice against his bare feet too, though he didn’t really like how it tried to go up the legs of his shorts.
He was alone on a secluded stretch of beach, the sun barely struggling through the clouds and the air just a little bit chilly. It was going to be one of those kinds of days, which actually made him pretty happy. There would be less risk of joggers or families out enjoying the ocean.
He liked the sense that he was the only man on Earth. He could do anything he wanted and there was no one to tell him no or judge him or make him feel small and stupid.
Reaching into the paper bag at his side, he pulled out the sandwich he had made that morning. Slices of boiled heart on whole wheat with lettuce, tomato, pepper jack cheese, a little mayo and a healthy glob of mustard.
He took a big bite of his sandwich, a smile pulling at his lips. He enjoyed the early morning solitude. Not even the thought of having to go to work later took away from this wondrous peace.
He was the only man on Earth.
The rest of the planet was populated by animals.
/ CHAPTER
The Panic Pure, by Harper Kingsley
Title: The Panic Pure
Author: Harper Kingsley
Genre: mm suspense thriller
Rating: mature
Summary: Daniel Worth, billionaire and CEO of Worth Enterprises is questioned by FBI agent Marshal Newman about the disappearance of one of his employees. They strike up a conversation and soon are regularly meeting and begin dating. However, neither realizes just how close danger is lurking.
Prologue -- 2723 words (11 ms pages) Chapter One -- 3533 words (15 ms pages) Chapter Two -- 7868 words (32 ms pages)Chapter Three -- 7913 words (32 ms pages)
Chapter Four -- 6303 words (26 ms pages)Chapter Five -- 4309 words (18 ms pages)Chapter Six -- 4144 words (17 ms pages)Chapter Seven -- 6342 words (26 ms pages)
Chapter EightChapter NineChapter TenChapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Updates Scheduled to Appear*:
Chapter Three – 8/28/12
Chapter Four – 9/4/12
Chapter Five – 9/11/12
Chapter Six – 9/18/12
Chapter Seven – 9/25/12
Chapter Eight -- 10/2/12
Other Chapters: To be announced
* Updates have been scheduled in advanced. If updates do not appear on dates listed and I don’t catch it, please let me know through the comments. Thank you.
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Please do not steal my words. In a hundred years they are all that will be left of me.
NOVEL: The Panic Pure, by Harper Kingsley [mm suspense] – Prologue
Title: The Panic Pure
Author: Harper Kingsley
Genre: mm suspense thriller
Rating: mature
Summary: Daniel Worth, billionaire and CEO of Worth Enterprises is questioned by FBI agent Marshal Newman about the disappearance of one of his employees. They strike up a conversation and soon are regularly meeting and begin dating. However neither realizes just how close danger is lurking.
PROLOGUE I
She was still tingling with happiness as she watched the taxi drive off. This was the first time in her life when she was absolutely certain that she was really in love. There had been times before, mostly when she’d been a teenager, that she had thought she had found “the One,” but now she was almost completely sure. So sure that she was already planning out the conversation with her mother on Sunday and it made her smile to think of how happy her mom was going to be for her.
It was about then that she realized she was alone on the side of the street and she knew she had to get to her car and head home.
Her dad would have a lot to say about her standing on the side of the road at night in the city. He was just so paranoid about her being kidnapped and murdered or something by the terrible “city folk.” It always made her laugh at him while telling him he worried way too much.
She had just started to step off the curb when she heard a voice call, “Excuse me!”
She turned and saw the young man from earlier standing in front of the shop door. Her heart beat a little faster and she couldn’t help the nervous way her hand tightened on her purse. The leather strap was cutting into her palm, but she figured it would make a good weapon if she had to use it.
“Hey, it’s a good thing I saw you,” he called. “Your friend forgot his book here earlier. Do you think you can give it back to him?”
She gave him a nervous look considering they were the only people on the darkened street, but after a second decided that he wasn’t much of a threat. She saw him practically every day and he was about as unassuming as one guy could be. Besides, she thought she could probably take him in a fight. He really didn’t look that tough at all.
“Sure,” she said, strolling toward him.
He smiled at her, flashing her a slightly crooked front tooth. “Cool, let me go get it.” He pulled a keyring out of his pocket and quickly unlocked the shop door. The little bells jingled when he pushed it open. “You can come in if you want.”
There was that flutter of nervousness again, but she thought that if James had left his book here he was probably going to want it back. So she stepped in behind him, hovering near the door just in case while he went behind the counter.
She felt an indescribable feeling of relief when he popped back up with a large paperback book in his hand. She felt a little stupid for being so nervy. He’d always been a perfectly nice man. Definitely not her type, but still a nice guy.
“Here you go,” he said, coming closer and holding it out to her.
Janeane smiled and reached toward the book.
She never saw his other hand swing out from behind his back, but she did feel the needle pierce the side of her neck. There was a jolt of pain, then she felt her body slip forward into darkness.
This isn’t supposed to happen to me, was the last thought she had before she lost consciousness.
PROLOGUE II
He was in the sun room playing with his cars, muttering back story to himself. He had missed his toys while they were on vacation, especially his favorite red convertible with the real white cloth top. He hadn’t meant to leave it behind, but his mom had hurried him out the door and it had been forgotten.
“Vroom, vroom, rrrrrr-vroom. There we go, and then this blue truck comes outta nowhere and runs into the front, yeah. Oh no, Jack Steele is mad about that, oh yeah, he’s gonna mess somebody up,” he said, then giggled as he rammed the truck into the car, careful not to scratch the shiny paint for real.
He sat back on his haunches and thought a moment, his hands pressing fists up under his chin. Then he reached forward to scoop up the convertible and fit it into the launcher that would send it careening down the twisty track he had set up earlier. He just had to be careful not to scrape the floor or he was going to be in trouble.
He had just pushed the release on the launcher when the door burst open and his father came rushing at him.
“Come on, hurry up,” his dad panted, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him to his feet. He could feel his sneakers slipping and he almost tripped over his untied shoelace before his dad caught him.
“Wh-what’s goin’ on?” he cried.
“No time, no fucking time!” his dad yelled. His dad never cursed, not when he was around at least. Something was very wrong.
As his dad hauled him out the door, he glanced back to see his red convertible fly off the track to go spinning across the hardwood floor to smack into the wall. Part of him wanted to protest, to run back and grab his toy, but the grip of his dad’s hand on his shoulder kept him from trying to get away.
They were halfway down the hallway before he noticed that there was blood spattered on the side of his dad’s face. “You’re bloody,” he said.
“Not now,” his dad panted, pulling him through the door of the Special Room, the room that no one was allowed to play in because it had the secret door in it, the door into the panic room.
His mom and dad had sat him down when he was five years old and told him that if anything ever happened he was supposed to go into the panic room and not come out until they told him to. He would be safe in the panic room because nothing could ever get him.
He still remembered the trouble he’d gotten into when he had hidden from the monster under the bed in the panic room. His mom had been yelling at him through the intercom to open the door, but he’d been too short to reach the number pad and he’d been too scared to follow her directions. She’d had to call the security company to get him out and after kissing him tons of times, she’d actually spanked his butt and sent him to bed without dinner. It had been the worst day of his life.
Until now.
“Where’s Mommy?” he asked. He wasn’t even embarrassed about calling her “Mommy,” something he hadn’t done since he was six. He was more scared that she wasn’t there, that daddy had blood on his face, that he was suddenly hearing the thunder of feet up the stairs and mens’ voices yelling and cursing.
“Shut up,” his dad whispered harshly, pushing him ahead of him toward the panic room door. “We need to get in there right now.”
He reached out for the secret panel, but his dad pushed his hand out of the way and opened it first. “Get in, get in, get in!”
The mens’ voices were suddenly right behind them, and as he was shoved through the door, he heard a “pop-popping” sound that he’d only heard on TV and there was a splash of warmth against the back of his neck and shoulder.
His dad made a strange grunting sound, but still managed to push the rest of the way into the panic room and slam the door behind him.
The boy was crying and didn’t know when he had started. He turned to look at his dad, his eyes going wide when he saw the small, bloody hole in the stomach of his dad’s shirt. “You’re shot,” he said dumbly, his hands pressing against his mouth.
His dad stumbled forward to fall sideways on the couch. “It’s all right, it’s all right, it’s all right,” he whispered, his eyes fluttering and his breath coming in shuddering pants that twisted his whole entire face. His hands were pressed to the wound in his stomach, but red still leaked between his fingers.
The boy hurried over to the dresser against the wall and pulled out a handful of clean towels before rushing to his dad’s side. “I got it, I got it,” he said. He pressed the towels down on his dad’s wound, trying to hold all the blood in. “Security should be here soon. It’s going to be all right, Daddy. They’re going to shoot those bad men and it’s going to be all right.”
“It’s all right, it’s all right, it’s all right…” his dad just kept whispering. His eyes were open, but he didn’t look like he was seeing anything.
The boy knelt at his dad’s side, pressing the towels down until they soaked through with blood. Tears were streaming down his face and he was muttering nonsense words to try and sooth himself, but there was nothing else he could do.
All he could wish was that he had run faster, that he hadn’t resisted even a little bit when his dad had tried to get him into the panic room. If he had just done what he was supposed to, his dad wouldn’t be lying on the couch bleeding all over the place, soaking the upholstery until it ran down the sides.
If he had just done what he was supposed to do…
PROLOGUE III
The first time he saw her, he knew that his life was somehow changed forever. No matter what he did, things were never going to be the same again. And really he didn’t even mind that much, because he had already been changed far past the realms of what he had known as normal.
She said her name was Lily, but he knew that was a lie just by looking at her. She was trying so hard to be something she was not. It made the darkness in him want to laugh at her innocence. It had been forever since he had been that young.
The monster in him insisted on pointing out that she would taste delicious. Her pale skin would look beautiful bathed in blood. But he refused to let himself do that kind of thing anymore. Be that kind of thing.
He was a man now. A human man.
Oh, but she would taste so sweet.
It should have been harder to get close to her, but she almost made it too easy. She was just so open to the world around her, it made him worry about her. The world was filled with untrustworthy people. She needed someone to watch after her, keep her safe from the bad people out there.
It was a good thing that she had him.
Watching her at the bookstore, browsing the shelves, he couldn’t help the little smile that curved his lips. She was just so cute standing there, a tiny frown of concentration twisting those cupid-bow lips. Her long brown hair was drawn up in a high ponytail and her glasses perched on the tip of her nose. She was adorable.
He leaned against the bookcase of graphic novels, peering at her over the edges of a nameless Marvel comic. He watched as she smiled and chose her novels–two science fiction and one fantasy–and headed toward the cashier. Her ponytail bobbed behind her as she walked.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out two crumpled twenty dollar bills and followed after her. He didn’t want her to get too far away.
Watching her wander around the mall, he was captivated once again by her beauty. She was the most perfect girl he had ever come across in all his searching. She was intelligent, perky, outgoing, and pretty enough that it was hard to believe she had been born into this filthy world of sin. She was an angel upon the earth and it was impossible for him to understand how no one else could see her perfection.
He had to have her before anyone else could think to sully her beauty.
It was almost painfully easy to catch her, his beautiful butterfly. Just a smile, a wink, and a needle full of ketamine in the parking garage.
Bundling her up into his car was the hardest part of catching her, and that only because her body was all lolling and loose-limbed. But once he got her in the trunk of the car, it was the simplest of things to leave the parking garage and make the leisurely drive home.
There was a warm feeling in his lower belly at the thought that soon all of his love would be rewarded.
“My name is Lily Beckett! I’m twenty years old. I’m a student at CalSci. I have my whole life ahead of me. There’s so much I still want to do. Please, you don’t need to do this! Please! I promise I won’t tell anyone, please!” Her begging-screams were starting to get on his nerves.
“Sh, it’s going to be all right, I promise,” he whispered. “I’m going to keep you with me forever. Always a part of me.”
The way she wriggled in her bonds was exciting in itself, but he didn’t really have the time to completely enjoy the situation. He had an appointment at seven in the morning, which meant he was going to have to cut his fun-time short so he could have at least six hours of sleep.
Leaning forward, he pressed a butterfly kiss against her forehead. “You are so beautiful,” he whispered, his tongue flicking out to brush feather-light against her skin. He could taste the salt of her sweat and it made him pant a little in arousal.
She was his angel in chains, her arms raised high above her head to support her weight, with her dangling toes barely brushing the floor. The way she hung ensured that her body was displayed to perfection: the stretching arch of her back and legs, the way the flesh had been drawn tight over the bone.
He brushed a hand against her bare ribs, just letting his fingertips trail across her breasts. He liked the way her nipples hardened and she whimpered in her throat.
“Please, please don’t,” she cried. “If you let me go I promise I won’t tell anyone. Just please… don’t hurt me.”
“I would never hurt you,” he said. Then he reached out and took the ball-gag off the small table next to him. “I just can’t have you making a lot of noise while I’m trying to work.”
She tried to jerk away when he fit the gag to her mouth, but the way she hung meant that her feet could get no traction and she was already having a hard time just catching a breath. She was utterly helpless… just the way he liked it.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, even as he reached for the filleting knife. “Not for very long, anyway.”
She tried to scream, but there was nothing she could do. The gag was tight in her mouth and her arms were chained above her head. And experience had had him strap weights to her ankles to keep her from being able to flail her feet at him.
There was nothing she could do to stop what was coming, and nothing he would allow her to do. It was the most perfect of moments.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his knife flashing in his hand.
By the time he had finished with his shower and was towel drying his hair, the fifteen neatly wrapped packages in his walk-in freezer were already beginning to harden amongst the rest. He wished he could have enjoyed her more fully, but there just wasn’t enough time. He would have to save her for later.
Rubbing his hair one last time with the towel, he tossed it over the back of a kitchen chair and padded barefoot down the short hall and into his bedroom. He really needed to get his rest if he hoped to function tomorrow at work.
/ CHAPTER
The Panic Pure, by Harper Kingsley
Title: The Panic Pure
Author: Harper Kingsley
Genre: mm suspense thriller
Rating: mature
Summary: Daniel Worth, billionaire and CEO of Worth Enterprises is questioned by FBI agent Marshal Newman about the disappearance of one of his employees. They strike up a conversation and soon are regularly meeting and begin dating. However, neither realizes just how close danger is lurking.
Prologue -- 2723 words (11 ms pages) Chapter One -- 3533 words (15 ms pages) Chapter Two -- 7868 words (32 ms pages)Chapter Three -- 7913 words (32 ms pages)
Chapter Four -- 6303 words (26 ms pages)Chapter Five -- 4309 words (18 ms pages)Chapter Six -- 4144 words (17 ms pages)Chapter Seven -- 6342 words (26 ms pages)
Chapter EightChapter NineChapter TenChapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Updates Scheduled to Appear*:
Chapter Three – 8/28/12
Chapter Four – 9/4/12
Chapter Five – 9/11/12
Chapter Six – 9/18/12
Chapter Seven – 9/25/12
Chapter Eight -- 10/2/12
Other Chapters: To be announced
* Updates have been scheduled in advanced. If updates do not appear on dates listed and I don’t catch it, please let me know through the comments. Thank you.
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Please do not steal my words. In a hundred years they are all that will be left of me.
Interesting Changes At My Blog
As anyone who knows me knows (I know, right?) I am one of those people that is always hunting for a bargain and a good deal. I don’t have much in the way of money and I’m desperate to see my stories out there for the world to enjoy. Just the thought that people are reading the things that I’ve written… it gives me this kind of deep sense of happiness and I hope that they’re enjoying it.
I like getting feedback as long as it’s constructive (or praising! Praise me, praise me!) and not too hyper critical. Someone telling me I’ve misspelled a word or my sentence came out wonky is one thing, but someone completely tearing my book apart… well, I’m very sorry you didn’t enjoy my story, but I won’t be responding to you and probably won’t do anything more than glance at your review on Goodreads. Have a great day! (Because I will. Fake it ’til you make it.)
I loved having Wendy beta read Echo because the minute she said something about there not being enough physical description, it was like a “D’oh!” moment for me. She made that story better with just a few words.
Which brings it around to what’s been going on at my blog recently. I’m still recording my audio posts, though I’ve got a lot of clip edits to do (I’m a stuttering, yawning, tea slurping, lazy, perfectionist. It’s my cross to bear.) There’s been a lot going on in my regular life (*sob*) but I’ve just got to take one day and listen to all my posts and record some other ones. (One day I will have my own recording studio and it will be so much easier for everyone involved.) So that all will happen as it happens, and I’m sorry to anyone that has been inconvenienced.
In other news, if anyone has been to my blog recently, you ‘ll notice the fancy new iCopyright bar everywhere. That’s right, I’ve joined the clip & copy generation, everything must go, consume, consume, consume.
No, really, if you’ve been following my latest diatribes you may have caught my rising concern with copyright infringement. People buying my ebooks then brazenly listing them on torrent sites through a Google link. If you’re going to steal from me, at least be cool enough to do it from the shadows and not rub my face in it. But when your results pop up right next to my book in search… that’s where the line is completely drawn. Just like Terry Goodkind, my opinion is that you don’t come into my house and announce the fact that you’re screwing me over. I will not put up with it. And the Internet is my house (shout out to the peeps!)
I’m all for free speech and fair use and the first purchase doctrine and blah blah blah. At the same time, I owe people money and I’m tired of living in poverty. You might be thinking I’m being dramatic and I’m bitching about not being able to buy the next new thing and whatever, but no. I want to pay off my bills and have money to live off of, yet at the same time I don’t want to be a complete scrooge.
More than anything, I want people to be able to read the things I write. I’ve been poor for a long time, I know how bad it feels not to be able to have something that everyone else takes for granted. But I don’t really have anything big to offer the world — I’m not a farmer, I don’t make food, I don’t make quilts, whatever – the only thing I’ve ever really been good at is writing. So that’s something I would like for people to be able to enjoy whether they have the money to pay for it or not. I just don’t like the idea of people stealing from me.
So that’s where the iCopyright comes in. If you’ve clicked it, you’ll notice that it offers all kinds of republishing options. The only options I’m not providing are ebook and print book, and that’s negotiable if someone is seriously interested, it’s just not available for automated licensing.
Most everything else is right there on the table. Printing, emailing, syndication, adding my posts to your own website, even making your own newspaper or newsletter. There’s plenty of free options as well as pay options of all levels. So you can just come in and read what you want, or if you want to have some of my stuff on your site you can and you don’t even have to have an awkward conversation with me first. With a system like that, no one has to pirate my stuff because they can just come in and enjoy it and no one has to feel like a criminal and I don’t have to feel like an angry cop.
You’re probably wondering what this all means. Well, it means that I can feel safer when I put stuff up on my site. If you’ve been keeping up, you’ll have noticed that I have several novels I’m serializing here and at Kimichee. They’re pretty rough at the moment, but you can enjoy the stories if you’d like and if you notice any big errors I’d be happy to hear about them and they will for sure be addressed in the final copies that will go in the ebooks and paperbacks.
So if you want to be involved in my writing process and immortalized in print when I add you to my books’ acknowledgement pages, the comments are always open. Or if you just want to enjoy reading a story before anyone else in the world… that’s open to you too. If you would like to serialize any of my content on your site, iCopyright handles all that — you just put the code they provide on your site and whatever you’re licensing appears in the frame. If I update a post, iCopyright will update it on your site, so you never have to worry that you’re showing a dated copy. When the content expires you can either renew your subscription or iCopyright takes it down automatically. At no time do you even have to talk to me at all if you don’t want to. Which relieves my social anxieties a lot.
At the same time, I will be self-publishing the ebooks and paperbacks, and I will not lie about a book having previously been serialized online. So if you just like buying books, you don’t have to worry that I’m going to try and cheat you. And anyway, the official ebooks and print books will have added content and all kinds of cool things just for them.
I’m hopeful that iCopyright will help me make enough of a living that I can offer more things for free. So if you can afford to pay, I would be really grateful, but if you can’t at this time, that’s okay too. You’re welcome to read what’s here. And feedback is always appreciated.
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All content copyright HarperKingsley.net unless otherwise stated.
Please do not steal my words. In a hundred years they are all that will be left of me.
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