Splintered Page 19

  Hutch’s hips lost their finesse, his hand on Noah’s cock sloppy, but he couldn’t help it. His body coiled like an overwound spring, balls heavy, burning like a flame and ready to detonate.

  Then there was no more air and no more thinking, only Noah’s name in his throat as he broke wide open and the so-good-it-hurt end of the world. Hutch exploded into Noah’s ass nearly the exact moment Noah roared, hot come fountaining over Hutch’s fist, landing on Noah’s chest and neck.

  One last hard thrust, then Hutch released Noah’s wet cock and slumped forward, buried deep in Noah’s body. Neither of them moved for long moments, breathing heavily, hearts pounding, bodies shaking as they enjoyed the postfuck glow of bliss.

  Hutch wanted to close his eyes, sleep right where he lay, but the thought of crushing Noah in his sleep got Hutch up and moving. He made quick work of disposing of the condom, did a little clean-up, and then rejoined Noah in bed, pulled him close, and covered their still sweat-damp bodies with a sheet. With his head on the soft pillow and Noah’s head on his chest, Hutch held him, snuggling in and enjoying the heat and peace of the night, ignoring anything that might make him want this as more than a one-time thing.

  Chapter 24

  HE’D MADE a huge mistake. He’d given in to Noah’s advances, and while he didn’t necessarily regret it, it would make the current living arrangements uncomfortable, since Hutch promised himself as he slipped from Noah’s bed that he would not allow it to happen again. Not until he caught the killer, if ever. What the hell had he been thinking?

  His new resolve was stiffly in place—to keep his focus on the case rather than Noah—and the walls of the hotel room closed in on Hutch until he felt like a caged animal. Under threats from Granite of being beaten within an inch of his life, Hutch was forced to move his pacing to the hall, but he wouldn’t go any farther, as he refused to be too far away from Noah. Five days. Five of the longest fucking days of his life as he waited for a response, something, anything, from the killer.

  Nothing.

  Compounding his restlessness was the way Noah watched him. Noah was totally understanding about the new no-sex law, but he wasn’t as understanding about what had transpired on the balcony. He kept hinting at it, but had yet to ask Hutch. Hutch both dreaded and looked forward to the questions that would surely come. He’d held tight to his secret, even from Granite, who he thought he was closer to than any other human being, and yet, it was Noah who he wanted to share it with. The question was why? Why was he compelled to share such a thing with someone he barely knew?

  At the end of the hall, Hutch spun and stomped back toward the opposite wall for the hundredth time as he let the questions simmer. It simply made no sense, was totally illogical that he would feel such a compulsion. Just as he approached the door to his room, Granite popped his head out, causing Hutch to jerk back and come to a halt.

  “Jesus,” he grumbled, shooting an irritated look toward Granite, who only smiled slyly.

  “You’re going to wear the carpet out.”

  “Yeah, so, I’ll take it out of your pay since you made me come out here in the first place.”

  Granite rolled his eyes and waved him off. “You wanna go for a run?”

  “No.”

  “C’mon, it will do us both some good,” Granite implored as he stepped out into the hall, blocking Hutch’s path.

  “No,” Hutch repeated more forcefully and tried to step past Granite, but he blocked him again.

  “You’re doing it again,” Granite growled, hands on his hips as he gave Hutch a disproving look. “You’re not eating, not sleeping, and at this pace, you’re going to fall flat on your face. Then what good will you be?”

  “I’m not leaving,” Hutch shot back, not the least bit intimidated by Granite’s angry gaze.

  “I’m not asking you to fucking leave, you stubborn shit. I know you want to protect him. I’m just asking you to take better care of yourself. We’ll go down to the gym, do a little sweating and tension releasing on the treadmill, and be back in an hour, tops.” Granite arched a brow. “Unless you want me to tell Byte you don’t trust him to babysit your boyfriend for an hour.”

  “That’s a low blow,” Hutch gruffed. “And he’s not my goddamn boyfriend.”

  “No, but I can tell you care about him. Hell, the sexual tension arcing in the room between you two is so intense, I swear if you don’t bang soon, you’ll both explode.”

  Hutch spun and stomped off in the direction he’d just come, tossing over his shoulder, “You’re out of your goddamn mind.”

  “Oh really?” Granite said dubiously as he ran to catch up with Hutch. “You going to try and lie and tell me you’re not attracted to him?”

  “That’s irrelevant.”

  “Bullshit, Hutch. It’s okay to let yourself care about someone, you know.”

  “No, it’s not,” Hutch responded gruffly. “My lifestyle and career is not conducive to caring about anyone. People who get too close to me get hurt.”

  “I’ve never been hurt by you. Pissed off? Yes! Frustrated beyond all reason? Yes! But never hurt and I’m pretty sure Byte hasn’t either, other than your insane need to protect him like he’s a child.” Granite grabbed the back of Hutch’s shirt and spun him around. “The three of us are family, and it doesn’t get any closer than that, so stop your goddamn brooding, let down your walls, and let someone else help carry the load you’ve got piled up on your shoulders.” Granite’s angry expression softened. “Let me carry some of it, you stubborn shit.”

  Hutch’s first thought was to deny it, to run to… he didn’t know what, but the irritation and anger drained from him when Granite pulled him into a tight bear hug and patted his back, murmuring, “It’s okay to let someone help.”

  Hutch leaned his forehead on Granite’s shoulder. He didn’t know how to respond, didn’t know if he could around the lump of emotions in his throat, so he simply hugged Granite back and nodded.

  “Thank you,” Granite responded sincerely and then pulled away, turning as he wiped a hand roughly over his eyes. “Now let’s go put your pacing to good use on the treadmill, shall we?” Granite didn’t look back as he popped his head in the hotel room to let Noah and Byte know where they were going, then headed to the elevator.

  Hutch didn’t point out or tease the man about the tears on his cheeks, he simply followed him into the waiting elevator car and went to let go of the rest of his frustration in the gym.

  NOAH LOOKED up from his case file as Granite popped in and informed them Hutch needed a stress reliever and they were heading to the gym, before disappearing behind the closed door. Noah had half a mind to slip on his tennis shoes and join them. He was getting antsy from sitting in the room all day and night. He could use a little exercise to combat the sluggishness from the constant fast food and junk he was consuming. Instead he tried to focus on the file spread out before him. He had a full day of seeing patients. He’d put it off long enough and finally conceded that he’d allow Hutch to babysit him. He couldn’t get any further behind than he was.

  As he began to read the patient’s history, his cell phone vibrated on the table next to him. Noah grabbed it, checked the display—it was the number for the outreach center—and hit Accept.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, is this Mr. Walker?” asked a pleasant voice.

  “Yes, this is Noah Walker.”

  “Hi, this is Tiffany from the outreach center. Dr. Fritzwald asked me to call you.”

  “About what?” Noah asked in confusion.

  “Who is it?” Byte mouthed.

  Noah covered the phone with his hand. “It’s the center,” he told him, and Byte relaxed back into his chair.

  “Dr. Fritzwald would like to know if you’d mind bringing the lecture notes from the last presentation you gave when you come in today.”

  “Okay, but did he say why?”

  “No, sir, only asked me to call.”

  “Sure, no problem. Let him know I’ll bring th
em.”

  “Thank you, have a good day.”

  The line went dead. Noah studied the phone for a moment. He was sure he’d given Dr. Fritzwald a copy of his lecture. Noah shrugged it off, then hit the Off button and slid the phone into his pocket. Obviously he’d forgotten, and considering all the shit that had been going down, it didn’t surprise him. Hell, he’d be lucky if that was all he’d forgotten.

  “What’s up?”

  Noah jumped up off the bed and rummaged through his bag looking for the USB drive with his lecture notes.

  After checking all the compartments and still not finding it, he huffed out a frustrated breath. “Dammit. I gotta run to my apartment and grab something before I see patients today.”

  “I can’t let you go. You’re not allowed to go anywhere without Hutch,” Byte reminded him.

  Noah checked the clock. He had less than an hour to be at the Behavioral Health Center, and he still needed to shower, finish his notes, and stop by his place. Noah slid his files into his backpack and grabbed some clean clothes and his shaving kit.

  “I got to,” Noah insisted. “I forgot to give the notes from my last lecture to Dr. Fritzwald. I won’t get credit for it if I don’t turn them in.”

  “Can’t you wait till he gets back?”

  “I don’t have a lot of time. He has until I get out of the shower.”

  “Noah—”

  Noah stopped at the door to the bathroom. “Look, Byte, I’m sorry, but I didn’t spend the last eight years of my life working on my degree to throw it away now,” he informed Byte adamantly, then rushed to get cleaned up without waiting for a response.

  Noah set the taps on the shower and shucked out of his clothes. Draping a towel over the curtain rod, he stepped into the hot spray. He understood Byte’s reserve, hell, he even understood Hutch’s worry under the circumstance. No one knew how CS would respond to Hutch calling him out in the media, only that he would. Noah wasn’t taking the threat lightly, but he also wasn’t going to allow it to determine his future or ruin what he’d worked so hard to obtain.

  Ten minutes later, shaved, teeth brushed, and dressed, Noah stepped out of the bathroom to find Byte standing next to the door. Noah sat on the edge of the bed to put his shoes on.

  He looked up at Byte. “Seriously? You’re going to try and stop me, Byte?”

  “No, but since Hutch isn’t answering his phone and you’re adamant about going, I’m going with you.”

  Relieved he wasn’t going to have to fight his way out of the room, Noah tied his shoes, then grabbed his backpack. “Thanks, man. I wouldn’t be doing this if it wasn’t important.”

  “I know,” Byte responded, shrugging one shoulder. “That’s why I’m not stopping you. And you know I could.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Noah chuckled. “Guess I’ll have to take your word for it.”

  “Are you doubting me?” Byte asked, sounding offended as he opened the door and held it for Noah, although his eyes were twinkling with laughter.

  “Not even a little bit,” Noah pacified and stepped out into the hall. He checked both ways, finding it empty—he wasn’t a complete idiot—and headed for the elevator, Byte close at his side.

  Noah stabbed the button to call the elevator and then looked over at Byte, who was scanning the area with a critical eye. “You think we should leave a note for Hutch and Granite?”

  “Good idea.”

  The elevator dinged, announcing its arrival. “Just text him,” Noah suggested and stepped in. “Or better yet, don’t. I bet we can get to my place and back before they even know we were gone.”

  Byte stepped into the elevator with him, a thoughtful expression on his face. As they headed down to the lobby, Byte must have reconsidered. He pulled his phone out and typed out a text before they even reached their destination.

  “Chickenshit,” Noah laughed as he stepped out into the lobby.

  “Yeah well, you don’t have to live with him,” Byte reminded him as he shoved his cell into his pocket.

  I wish. Noah could think of worse things than starting and ending each day with Hutch. He couldn’t think of anything better.

  They fell silent as they made their way out of the hotel, both watching for…. Noah wasn’t sure what, since he had no idea who was watching them. Still, he was very much aware of his surroundings and didn’t relax until he was sitting in the passenger seat of the car.

  As they pulled out into heavy morning rush hour traffic, Byte cursed. “I hate this town,” he muttered and laid on the horn as a car cut him off within seconds of pulling out of the parking lot.

  “So you have no plans to take up permanent residence here in our great Windy City?”

  “That would be a big fat no! Don’t get me wrong, I normally enjoy Chicago, it’s got some of the best restaurants and boutiques in the country, but I can only handle all this hustle and bustle for so long.”

  “You get used to it,” Noah assured him.

  “Don’t want to. Have you ever thought about moving out to the country, somewhere—Fuck you too, buddy,” Byte yelled at the taxi driver who blew his horn and cut Byte off. “—quiet?”

  “I could see where that might be appealing,” Noah chuckled.

  They rounded the corner on the street Noah’s apartment complex was on and crept along at a snail’s pace, each tick of the clock pushing Noah’s anxiety higher and higher. He’d already called in enough favors; he simply couldn’t be late today.

  “Any way we can park and walk from here?” Noah asked a block from his building.

  “You find a parking spot, and I’ll be more than happy to pull over.”

  The chances of finding one at this time of day was about as likely as winning the lottery. Noah glanced down at his watch. He now only had thirty minutes to get to the center.

  Before thinking better of it or giving Byte time to stop him, Noah jerked the handle and jumped from the car. “I’ll be back before you even make it to the building.”

  “Goddammit, Noah! Get back here.”

  The last part of Byte’s demand cut off when Noah slammed the door shut and took off at a dead run. He wasn’t blowing smoke up Byte’s ass; he really could be in and out before Byte made it to the light at the end of his building. Dodging and weaving his way through the early morning commuters without any mishaps, he rushed through the front door of his building.

  “Hey, Carl,” he called out as he passed the front desk.

  “Morning, Noah.”

  Noah shoved open the door to the stairs and bolted up as he dug in his pocket for his keys. By the time he made it to his door, he was out of breath and it took him two tries to get the key in the lock. As soon as the door was open, he rushed to his desk, going through the stacks of papers looking for the ones he needed.

  Noah knew in a flash he’d fucked up when he heard the click of the deadbolt. Heart hammering, Noah straightened and turned around slowly. His heart stopped dead in his chest when he found the barrel of a gun pointed at his head.

  “Good morning, Mr. Walker.”

  Chapter 25

  I am the musician. Each flick of my wrist—slide of steel or press of fire—produces a unique sound. Together they create a pleasant harmony that flows along my nerve endings, igniting me.

  WITH EACH slap of rubber to tread, Hutch tried his best to let the stress in his body go. But no matter how fast he ran, how hard he breathed, the coiling tension in his gut and chest refused to let go. He ran until his legs were shaking, his breathing was labored, and still it held him. He stabbed the Off button on the treadmill and angrily snatched up the towel from the bench. He ran it over his face and then down his chest. As he tossed it aside and went to grab his bottle of water, he noticed his cell phone blinking.

  “This is Hutchinson.”

  “Good morning, Special Agent Hutchinson.”

  Hutch glanced at the display on his cell—Blocked call. “Who is this?”

  “Be a dear and tell Byte Noah will no longer be ne
eding his services.” The phone line went dead.

  Hutch’s blood ran cold as he stared unblinking at the silent phone.

  “What is it?” Granite asked in alarm.

  Dread rushed into Hutch’s soul as adrenaline surged through his veins. “I think he has Noah,” he uttered disbelievingly.

  “What?”

  With trembling hands, Hutch hit the speed dial button for Byte as he grabbed his weapon from the tray on the treadmill and slid the holster on. “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon,” he growled as he headed for the door, even before the phone began to ring.

  “What the hell is going on?” Granite demanded, chasing after him.

  “Hey, Hutch, I’ve been trying to get hold of you,” Byte answered.

  “Where are you? Is Noah with you?”

  “I… ummm… I….”

  Hutch shoved through the door to the stairs. “Goddammit, Byte, is he with you?”

  “Didn’t you get my text? Noah got a call—”

  “Is he fucking with you?” Hutch roared.

  “He ran up to his apartment to get some papers. I’m sitting in the car outside his building. What the hell is going on?”

  Hutch’s heart fell to his gut. “He’s got him.”

  “Wait, what? That’s impossible. Noah’s only been out of the car a couple of minutes, five, tops.” Byte sounded baffled.

  “He’s fucking got Noah! Now get your ass in there and get him. I’m on my way.” Hutch slid his cell into his pocket as he ran through the hotel, securing his holster as he went.

  “The killer? He has Noah? But how?” Granite asked dazedly.

  “I don’t know. Byte mentioned something about Noah getting a call,” he tossed back as he ran. Hutch tried desperately not to think about what the son of a bitch was doing to Noah. He needed to focus. Had to get to him.