Chapter Six: The Kill
(Friday Night)
“Ryo was my partner,” Dee started to talk after a while. “We were both working at the precinct and we became more than working buddies. We became lovers. We lived together and over the years we became accustomed to the idea of spending the rest of our lives together. We had our ups and downs, but there was nothing that we couldn’t fix. Bikky was a kid when Ryo took him in: his parents had died in a murder case and Bikky had no one to look after him, so Ryo stepped up to the challenge and became his mom/dad, and over time, I became part of his family too o though in the beginning, Bikky would rather be kissing a monkey’s ass than to talk to me.”
“I’m guessing things changed when Bikky died,” Alex said. Dee took a drink and nodded.
“Things _drastically_ changed when Bikky died.”
“How did Bikky die?”
“He was caught in the crossfire of a drug bust,” Dee said almost to himself, mesmerized by the band’s next song. “He and his friend, Rai, worked in some freelance detective agency. I warned Bikky several times that it was some dangerous bit the shit he got himself into sometimes, but him being as stubborn as a mule, wouldn’t listen. So one night we broke a drug-smuggling ring that connected the drugs in New York that were coming from the Juarez Cartel and it became nasty shootings. I had no idea that Bikky and his friend had been following one of the bastards because he was related to the disappearance of Rai’s friend, Lass. They were both caught in the crossfire – Rai was unharmed but Bikky wasn’t: he died on the way to the hospital. After that Ryo became so depressed that sometimes he would go into these silent spells that could last for days. Other times he was so angry he would snap over any little detail, almost killing some of the suspects once or twice to the point that he got suspended more than one occasion. They ordered him to get counseling, but he never did – and if he did, he never told me. He started to not tell me things, and most of the time I could swear he blamed me for everything. And little by little, I began to believe it myself. So one day, I come home… and he’s gone. No note, no messages, nothing. His clothes are gone, all his ids and his important papers, all gone. I contact the precinct and turns out that he has left his badge and gun and no one knows where the heck he went. We trace the car plaques and turns out that the car is left abandoned at the bus station. I began to realize that Ryo had left to avoid being around me or anything related to Bikky or that reminded him of Bikky so I didn’t look for him. And I know Carol knows where he lives and what he does, but I also know that Ryo has asked her – very politely – to keep her nose out of this one. And I think that she has respected his wishes and I can’t blame her for that.”
“Do you hate Ryo for what he did? I mean, for leaving and everything?”
“At first I did. Now, I don’t know.”
“Do you still love him?”
“I don’t know.”
“If Ryo would show up in your doorstep, roses and all, asking you to take him back on a stormy winter night, would you take him back?”
Dee took the last drink from his glass then turned to look Alex in the eye. “I don’t know,” he said, and Alex knew he meant it.
What if I wanted to break?
Laugh it all off in your face…
What would you do?
What if I fell to the floor?
Couldn’t tell you this anymore
What would you do – to do?
(Monday morning)
Four o’clock in the morning and Jeremy Adams was dragging his half-asleep feet over to the communicator to the side of the door, muttering out cuss words as it was the beginning of his day off and it was already starting on a foul note. It seemed that someone had no time-respect and was buzzing his way into his place. For a moment, he thought of his scandalous cat-lady neighbor who had her friends come to visit at wee hours in the mornings from time to time (strange city this one was indeed) and thought of a vicious way to get even (poison cat, hang cat, kidnap cat and ask for ransom, sniper cat, anything that would really get crazy cat-lady) but then when he snapped and replied with a “WHAT?” to the intercom, he heard the all-familiar voice of Dee coming from the other side.
“Good morning. I brought coffee.”
“Oh… come on up…” JJ said and then stood there, in complete iced shock, thinking a thousand thoughts at once, feeling his hands shaking. He looked down. Oh god! He was wearing his little guns and pistols pj’s and his fluffy bear paws slippers. Not manly – not manly at all. He was about to rush over to change when he heard the knock on the door. Oh god! He was doing a little school girl’s skip-dance right about now because he said he had brought coffee.
At last, after a deep breath or two (and ye good old trusty mantra of “keep it cool, keep it cool”), J.J. gained his composure and opened the door. Dee was leaning on the frame, looking scruffy and kind of drunk. “I lied about the coffee,” he said just as he stepped inside, took J.J. from the waist and leaned in to kiss him. It was a long, passionate kiss that made J.J. stumble back until he hit the wall with Dee practically on top of him; a kiss that tasted like whiskey and cigarettes, bittersweet and sexy at the same time. He didn’t know at what moment did the door closed behind them, but he didn’t care (not even when the thought of crazy cat lady coming out and witnessing the hot moment that he was having right then and there – in fact, the idea kind of turned him on in a nasty kinky-kitty sort of way). Dee’s hands were pinning his hands to the wall above his head; Dee’s tongue was teasing his own; Dee’s lips were opening his shamelessly; Dee’s teeth were biting his lips and making him moan in delight. He half-opened his eyes to get drenched in Dee’s green gaze and the feeling that it was him Dee was looking at made him blush relentlessly. With what little strength and will he could muster, he pushed Dee away and took a few steps away from the wall. He felt his lips burning, his knees shaking, his insides turning upside down. His breath was short and fast as Dee leaned against the wall and looked at him with nothing less than unbridled lust.
“You’re drunk,” J.J. said gasping for air, trying to control himself from taking advantage of the situation like so many times before. “You’re hot, and sexy, and one heck of a kisser – but you’re drunk.”
“I am not that drunk and I know what I’m doing and what I want, and what I want right now is you in the most devious positions conceived by man. Is that a sin?” Dee said with a mischievous smile drawn on his lips.
"In many cultures, yes, but that’s not the point! The point is that you only get like this when you’re drunk and you only drink when you remember Ryo.”
“So? That was never an issue before,” Dee snorted ironically.
“Well, I’m getting sick and tired of it: I’m tired of being Ryo’s fucking shadow for you. I’m tired of wondering if you’re looking at me or picturing Ryo while you undress me and blow me off.”
Dee walked over to J.J. and leaned over to his ear. “You know?” he whispered, “You’re the most difficult whore I know.”
He was beginning to walk away when he felt J.J. take his arm and stop him. “I asked you once what happens now,” he heard J.J.’s stern voice. Dee kept quiet but did nothing to release himself from J.J.’s grip. “My feelings for you are very well-known by you and everyone else in the precinct. I love you –”
Dee took a couple of steps, J.J.’s grip loosening as his arm limped down wearingly. “I’m emotionally exhausted,” he heard J.J. say softly. “I have allowed you to take advantage of my feelings so you can ease the pain of Ryo leaving and basically use me as a fuck-toy. That can’t lead to anything good for anyone. So I’m asking you again: what happens now, Dee?”
Dee stood there for what seemed years on end. Silently, he walked to the door and softly closed it as he stepped outside. Meanwhile, J.J. walked towards his bedroom, felt terribly ill all of a sudden as tears began to roll down his cheeks and was beginning to feel as if something inside him had died and left him stranded in the middle of a terrible, empty void he could not escape from. He tightened his trembling fists and threw a bunch of punches against the near-by wall, so hard that he actually made a hole on the wall by the third hit.
“Fuck you, Dee Laytener,” he whispered clenching his teeth and closing his eyes as he did so.
Come break me down
Burry me, burry me
I am finished with you!
Look in my eyes
You’re killing me, killing me
All I wanted was you!
(Friday afternoon)
“J.J. reported sick since Tuesday afternoon,” Drake said a couple of days later. “But I’ve been calling his house and his cell phone and nada. I’m worried about him.”
Dee pretended he wasn’t paying attention to what Drake was talking over with Ted on the other side of the office. Both men, however, gave a slight glimpse over at Dee, kind of waiting the moment when Dee would jump in and make an inappropriate comment about J.J.’s whereabouts. However, Dee did not pull away from whatever he was doing. “Hey Dee,” Ted openly said. “D’you know anything about J.J.?”
Dee didn’t reply. He was trying to avoid the memory of that night by all means necessary and Ted’s question wasn’t helping his cause. He felt terrible: he had dragged J.J. along to his emotional train wreck knowing how the felt about him; he had taken advantage of this and used J.J. to make his ego feel somewhat better in some twisted, pink romance writer, sort of way. The worse part of it was that he didn’t feel sorry about all this, but rather about the harshness of that night alone. Somehow he felt that the entire ordeal could have gone better if he had only slipped his hand down J.J.’s pants sooner because that would usually just make J.J. shut the heck up and enjoy the ride he was willing to provide for the night.
OK, so officially he was scum.
“J.J!” he heard Drake call out. He raised his head and saw J.J. greeting Drake and Ted, his right hand in a cask.
“What happened to you?” Ted asked. “Drake here has been worrying about you and has been driving me and other around him crazy.”
“I’m sorry if I worried you…” J.J. said calmly. He threw a murdering, slight glimpse at Dee and walked over to the desk.
Dee was still pretending not to care, thus he never noticed the moment J.J. walked over to the desk nor was he prepared for the strong kick he gave it throwing everything on top off balance. “I’m still your fucking partner, Laytener!” J.J. said angrily bitter as he kicked the desk. Dee looked up.
“What happened to your hand?” Dee asked a little taken aback by J.J.’s uncharacteristically foul mood.
J.J. muffled a laugh. “As if you care,” he said walking away. The phone rang. With his eyes still watching J.J., Dee picked it up.
“Hello?” he asked. Something on the other side made him jump up and turn pale. “WHAT? WHERE? – I’LL BE RIGHT THERE!” he slammed the phone and ran outside. It seemed that time stopped and he couldn’t go fast enough, making him spit out cussing that would make any sailor blush.
Not yet, mother-fucker, not yet! Dee kept thinking as he flew across the city. Goddamn it! I swear if you die today I’ll kill you! Do you hear me? I’ll KILL you!
TBC
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