Arcanum (Tales from the Tarot)

11. Chris

Chapter eleven

Chris

B e careful on Mulberry.

How did he know that’s where I was headed? I wore an earpiece and I didn’t say it when I told dispatch I was en route.

Maybe he heard it anyway. Somehow.

Shaking my head in an attempt to dislodge Greyson from being front and center, I accelerated a little faster when Stacey announced she was in the area of the call. Even if it was just a 911 investigation, I wasn’t letting her go alone. Not to that house.

Glancing at my computer as I drove, I kept checking the call notes for any new updates. There were none. Dispatch got a 911 hang-up and tried to call it back several times, all with no answer. There was no history with the phone number, but mapping put it right over the Bergers’ house.

“Where you at?” Tom asked over the radio on our direct channel.

“Pulling up,” Stacey replied.

“Turning onto Cedar,” I said.

“Alright. Let me know if you need me out there.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Stacey said.

I wanted to agree with her, but my fingers drifted to my vest carrier, touching the hard lump where the black crystal was wedged. I wasn’t superstitious; I believed we made our own luck, but the whole thing with Greyson had me a bit spooked. As much as I tried to explain it away from a logical standpoint, I couldn’t. My brain tried to come up with some rational answer but my gut rejected every one.

Nitro whined in his cage behind me, almost like he agreed.

“You’re going to stay here, buddy.” I scratched his head through the opening and shifted the Tahoe into park behind Stacey’s squad.

She’d waited in her car for me, which undoubtedly saved her from an ass-chewing later. Since I was one of her FTOs, I knew she knew better than to get out and approach a scene without backup. After what happened over in Ridgewood with Dakota, everyone got the harshest refresher course there was.

The autumn twilight had already faded from the sky, leaving us in darkness, save for the yellow light of the wrought-iron streetlamp overhead.

Leaves crunched under our boots as we approached the Bergers’ house, a red brick four-square that used to be nice to look at before Ted and Amanda moved in. Lights glowed inside the kitchen and the living room; two adult-sized figures moved behind the lace curtains at a normal pace.

It all seemed quiet, not like a knockdown fight was taking place.

Stacey and I made our way up the stairs and fanned out on either side of the front door, listening.

A TV droned in the background, but that was it. No yelling. Nothing breaking.

I peeked through the sidelight, scoping out what I could see of the foyer and the staircase. Ted may have let the exterior of the house go to shit, but Amanda kept the inside pretty clean. Probably because she knew what would happen if she didn’t.

The coast was clear, so I nodded at Stacey.

She knocked loudly. “Police department!”

“Here comes Amanda,” I murmured, moving away from the sidelight and back to safety along a solid wall.

Stacey took a step back, out of the way of the screen door, as the front porch light flipped on.

Amanda Berger opened the door with a frown, glaring at the two of us from the shadows of her most recent black eye. “Can I help you?”

“We received a 911 call from this area, we’re checking to make sure everyone is alright,” Stacey said with a smile.

“We didn’t call.”

“No problems tonight?”

“No,” Amanda snapped.

I moved from my post, taking a couple of steps away to use the radio. “We’re in contact. What were the last four of that phone number?”

“6723,” dispatch replied.

“Get a new cell phone number?” I asked, turning to face Amanda with raised brows. “Ends in 6723?”

She swallowed and shook her head quickly, but not quick enough to hide the earlier movement. “No. Same number as always. Must be a neighbor.”

“Ted home?” Stacey asked, peering past her. “We need to talk to him too.”

“He’s busy.”

“It’ll only take a second.”

“I said he’s busy.”

“We’re busy too,” I said, inching closer to the door. “And you know how this works. The sooner you get him, the sooner we’ll leave.”

Grinding her teeth, Amanda moved away from the door and disappeared, pointedly not inviting us in. Not that I expected her to.

Stacey took a small step forward and looked inside the house, surveying what she could. “I can’t tell if she hates us on principle or because she’s afraid of the ass beating she’s going to get because we showed up.”

“Both?” I ducked my head, trying to see to the top of the stairs. Amanda had gone into one of the rooms on the lower level, but I hadn’t seen any trace of their son yet.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me!” Ted roared inside.

Stacey’s hand flew to her gun, but it stayed holstered. “Here comes the man of the hour.”

“You got it, or you want me to take him?”

“I got it.”

Nodding, I planted my feet firmly beside her. Her call, her lead. I was just the muscle in case Ted tried to get stupid. Hopefully since it was early in the shift, he wasn’t that drunk yet.

Heavy feet stomped through the house a moment before Ted appeared, looking as irate as ever.

“Don’t you people have anything better to do than harass a fucking family while they’re trying to eat dinner?” Ted yelled.

“Like we told Amanda, we’re investigating a 911 call in the area. That’s all,” Stacey said, trying to maintain the Officer Friendly approach.

“Well that’s bullshit because we didn’t fucking call!”

“How much have you had to drink tonight?” Judging from the overwhelming stench of beer, I’d say he already had one twelve-pack down. So much for not getting stupid.

“Is that a fucking crime? Can’t even drink in my own goddamn house anymore?” He surged forward, looming over Stacey with a sneer. “How’d you like it if I came to your house and—”

I threw my hand out and planted it in the center of his chest, keeping him out of her face. “Back up, Ted.”

“Get your fucking hands off me!” He whirled to me next, nostrils flaring.

“Take it down a notch.” I pushed my shoulders back, preparing for a sucker punch.

“Don’t you tell me what to fucking do! Chris Brandt.” He made a face and gestured wildly, like a bad parody of a game show host. “Mr. Big Shot. You were always a fucking prick, even in high school. Fucking narc is what you are! Narced to your dad about me smoking weed and got me kicked off the fucking team! Now you stand there, looking down on me, like you’re better. You ain’t nothing. Fucking pig.”

I rolled my eyes and let him get it all out of his system. Debating the past with him was not going to happen, no matter how wrong he was. That was the trouble with working in the same place where you grew up. Sometimes your trips down Memory Lane weren’t always pleasant, as was the case with Ted any time I had the misfortune of running into him… which was a lot. And despite what he’d thought for the past twelve years, I didn’t have to narc on anyone—his dumbass showed up high to practice, reeking like a skunk. It wasn’t hard for Dad, or any of the other coaches with a sense of smell, to figure out what he’d been up to before practice.

“Where’s your son, Ted?” Stacey asked, drawing his attention back to her. “How’s he doing?”

“He’s none of your fucking business, bitch! That’s how he’s doing!”

“Go get him and prove it to me,” Stacey shot back. “Then we’ll leave.”

Muttering under his breath, Ted grabbed the interior door and slammed it as hard as he could.

I lunged after him. Before the door could close, I shoved my boot between it and the frame and threw my shoulder into the worn wood. “Go get him or we’re coming in. Keep refusing and I’ll be more than happy to drag your ass to jail for obstructing.”

Ted remained planted in the doorway. “You forget, I know where you live too, fucker. Payback’s a bitch.”

“Come on over any time you want. I’ll leave the door unlocked,” I tossed back with a smile. He was all bark and no bite. He’d known where I lived for the better part of thirty years. I wasn’t the least bit concerned about that asshole showing up at my door.

The floorboards creaked inside and Amanda’s head appeared behind Ted. “He’s here. See? He’s fine.”

Ted swore under his breath and pushed away from the door, stomping back to whatever hole he crawled out of.

In the presence of Ted’s poor kid, I turned off the aggression and gave him a bright smile, dropping to one knee. “Hey buddy! How are you?”

The kid didn’t smile, but he took a step forward and leaned out, running his fingers over my badge.

“You want one?” I threw a thumb toward my squad. “I’ve got one in the truck.”

Jackson blinked solemnly and looked up at his mom. Amanda, on the other hand, looked like she’d rather eat glass, but she nodded tersely.

“Come on! We can play with Nitro too.” I held my hand out to him, meeting his mom’s gaze when he latched on. She’d softened, somewhat, but we both knew what kind of hell they were in for as soon as we left. The only hope was that a shiny new badge to add to his growing collection of trinkets would be enough of a distraction for Jackson.

“You know we have resources,” Stacey said quietly, starting in on the whole spiel as I walked down the front steps with the five-year-old.

“You ready for the Homecoming parade?” I asked, knowing full well he wouldn’t answer. “It’s going to be pretty amazing. Have you been downtown yet? By town hall? They started setting up earlier today. You and your mom should go for a walk tonight, go check it out before bed. See if you can find a good place to get all the candy they throw.”

Silent as ever, he held my hand the whole way to the squad.

I pushed the button on my vest for Nitro’s door. It swung open by itself and the dog jumped out, pausing to get his bearings before running over to greet us, tongue lolling.

Using my free hand, I gave the command to sit so he didn’t knock the poor kid over. Complying, the dog sat and panted happily while Jackson tentatively scratched him behind his big ears.

“ Stay ,” I said in German before opening my passenger door and rooting around in my bag of tricks. I kept a stash of stuffed animals and blankets in the cargo area, but the plastic badges and stickers had a pocket of their own in my duty bag.

Pulling out a smaller replica of the Mapleton PD badge, I turned and knelt in front of Jackson again, holding it up for him to see. “Pretty cool, huh? Just like the real thing.”

He still didn’t smile, but his eyes widened as he reached for it.

“You want me to put it on?”

He nodded.

Carefully attaching it to the front of his shirt, over his heart, I smiled and held my hand up for a high five. “Welcome to the force, buddy!”

He slapped my hand and took off running, straight back to the house.

After I let Nitro pee, I put him back in the truck and headed over to where Stacey was finishing up with Amanda.

Jackson clung to his mom’s hands, groaning impatiently and rocking from side to side while she kept giving him the “In a minute” finger.

“Thanks for the information. Again,” Amanda said in a clipped voice, her gaze cutting to me as I stopped at the bottom of the porch stairs. “Are we done now?”

“I told Jackson they started setting up for the Homecoming parade down at town hall. Might be a good time to go check it out. See what kind of vendors and rides they’re going to have this weekend.” I said it with a smile for Jackson’s benefit, but even the most oblivious adult would have been able to pick up what I was hinting at.

“We need to finish dinner,” she sniffed.

“Tony’s is open,” I countered, fishing my wallet out of my back pocket and pulling out a twenty. I met her halfway on the stairs, holding the money out to her. She took the end of the bill gingerly and I cocked my head at her, waiting for some kind of confirmation that she’d do the smart thing, at least for tonight. We couldn’t make her divorce Ted but we could do everything in our power to get her the fuck away from him, even if that meant doling out our own cash from time to time.

“Pizza sounds good,” she said quietly, pulling the twenty out of my hand. I’d happily take that over a “Thank you” any day.

“See you at the parade!” I said to Jackson with another smile and a wave.

“You guys have a good night,” Stacey added before we started back toward our squads. As soon as we were out of earshot, she let out an exhausted sigh. “I don’t fucking get it. I’ve done the classes, I know the stats, but I don’t get why she doesn’t leave his sorry ass.”

“Baby steps,” I replied with a sigh of my own. “Did she confirm that new number is hers?”

Stacey nodded. “Burner.”

“Well, that’s a start. Did she say what he did?”

“No. I didn’t see any marks on her, but she kept touching the back of her head as we talked. I’m guessing he grabbed her. I honestly think Jackson is the one who called. She said he was hiding before we got here. How sad is that? Your five-year-old has to call for help?”

“She take the pamphlet this time? With the shelter info and all that?”

She scoffed. “Yeah right. I put it under the mat. Hopefully she picks it up later after their ‘walk.’”

“Maybe that fucker will choke on his own vomit by the time they get back.”

“Could we get that lucky?”

I shook my head. We bumped knuckles at our squads before climbing behind the wheel. While Stacey typed in the disposition for dispatch, I scanned the screen to see what other nonsense was pending for us.

Thankfully, nothing.

I was about to put the Tahoe into drive when two shadows moved along the sidewalk in my periphery.

Amanda and Jackson.

She clutched her purse tight to her body as she hurried him by us, pretending like the squads were invisible. Jackson, however, waved and skipped along as they headed toward downtown, his plastic badge glinting in the streetlight. The sign on the corner caught my eye as they passed under it.

Mulberry Street.

Be careful on Mulberry.

My fingers drifted to my vest again, touching the black crystal as my gaze darted back to the Bergers’ house. Had Greyson really known what was happening? Had his good-luck rock managed to keep us from getting into it with Ted? Was that why Amanda begrudgingly accepted the minimal help we could offer?

“You’re losing it,” I said to myself, shaking my head, and pulling away from the curb.

Greyson did not have some weird psychic ability and rocks were not magical.

Those were the conclusions I came to after a solid six hours of sleep.

The other questions I had remained unanswered, though. Namely, what was the deal with Greyson and Chicago PD? Not to mention the whole investigation surrounding his family’s deaths. You know. Just a couple of minor details I was still trying to figure out in between daydreams about him walking around naked in the moonlight and then being so close to him, I thought, for a second, he might try to kiss me.

“You working Homecoming?” Dad asked, interrupting my reverie.

I shifted the phone to my other ear, depositing clean cups from the dishwasher back into the cabinet above. “Like always.”

“You going to be in the parade again? With Nitro?”

“Like always,” I said again, just to annoy him.

He huffed accordingly. “I don’t know! I’m trying to make conversation with you and you’ve been distracted.”

“Sorry. I’m trying to get this shit done before I have to get in the shower and go meet Luke.”

“Big plans tonight?”

“If by ‘big plans,’ you mean eating wings and watching the game at Stanley’s, then yeah. Big plans.”

“You’re never going to meet a girl if all you do is work and hang out with Luke.”

I scoffed, more than a little offended—for me and Luke. “What’s your problem with Luke?”

“I don’t have any problem with Luke. But it’s been how long since Monica? You have to get back out there, son.”

“I don’t want to get back out there,” I mumbled like a petulant toddler.

He sighed. “What I’m saying is, you work too hard. There’s more to life.”

“Dating someone isn’t going to change that—or the fact the whole country is in a staffing crisis right now.”

“You could always get your teaching license. It’s only another year of school.”

“Tempting,” I lied. Other than having summers off, leaping from one understaffed career field to another didn’t sound very appealing, but I didn’t have time to push the issue. I hip-checked the dishwasher door shut and headed upstairs. “Alright. I gotta go. Gotta get ready for my hot date with Luke.”

Dad chuckled. “Goodnight, smart ass. Be safe.”

“Always.”

I tossed the phone on the bed and hopped in the shower, cleaning up quickly. It’s not like I needed to go all out for Luke—another plus to hanging out with him versus trying to date anyone. He didn’t care whether I shaved or not or if I wore cologne. He definitely didn’t give a shit about what my hair looked like or what clothes I wore. Knowing him, he’d also be in a hoodie and jeans, with finger-combed hair and a day’s worth of stubble. It was like our uniform outside of the regular uniform, unless we were at the gym.

About three minutes later, I dried off with a towel and hung it up, heading back into the bedroom to grab some clothes.

A second after my bare ass sauntered past the window, I froze like a deer in headlights, my hands locked on the dresser drawer.

I’d gotten so used to not having anyone living next door that I didn’t even think about walking around naked with the curtains wide open. From the flash of pale movement in the neighbor’s backyard, I knew I’d been busted.

My heart spasmed in my chest. Even if I hadn’t gotten a look at him, I knew Greyson was out there. I could practically feel him watching me, lighting me up like a laser sight. If my peripheral gaze was to be trusted, he’d been sitting in a chair on the patio and stood when I walked by, though he hadn’t gone into the house because I didn’t hear the bells over the door jingle.

With the bedroom lights on all around me and the angle from his backyard, there was no getting around the reality that Greyson saw me naked. My dick twitched at the thought, perking up by the sheer fact someone was possibly paying attention to it, even if that someone was thirty feet away from me with a whole house separating us. …and a guy.

“I guess fair’s fair,” I murmured, forcing myself to open the drawer as nonchalantly as I could. I saw him in the buff, now it was his turn. Then I could be doubly mortified the next time I saw him. Or just pretend the whole thing hadn’t happened and play the role of the oblivious idiot, something I was apparently good at whenever I was around him. That was the safer course of action. Bumbling through another apology after I’d gone through the whole disorderly conduct speech was not high on my list of things I wanted to do. Ever.

Even though I pulled out a pair of boxers, I didn’t bother putting them on right away. Instead, I pretended to be interested in something on the top of my dresser, out of his view. If I was lucky, he’d think I was looking at my phone or something, not purposely standing there for him to observe, like a spectator at a zoo. Behold the Neanderthal in his natural habitat…

How long had I stared at him the other night? It seemed like ages. Enough time for me to note that discoloration on his left pec, anyway. Given how dark it was against his skin, it had to have been a tattoo, but I wouldn’t know for certain until I saw it in better lighting.

Would I see it in better lighting? Would I have a chance to see him again, shirtless? Yeah, the next full moon. Not just shirtless, naked. He all but guaranteed it at his store when he asked if I wanted to join him. Maybe I could—join him, that was. Then I’d get to see him up close and see what he was doing when he touched himself.

Jesus! What was my problem? Why wasn’t I focused on the more important question, like why did I want to see him naked in the first place? I saw Luke shirtless almost every damn day at the gym and I wasn’t blushing over him, or Jace, or any of the other guys I’d grown up with. But Greyson? For inexplicable reasons, I wanted to see Greyson naked again.

As if I needed confirmation, my dick jumped at the thought, jutting out from my body with a fullness I hadn’t realized was happening in total view of the window.

My hand dropped from the dresser drawer to cover my hard-on, gripping it out of habit before immediately reprimanding myself. Walking around naked was one thing; jacking off in front of the neighbor was another. Mainly, one was a frowned-upon gray area of the law, while the other was definitely illegal and potentially got your ass put on a registry.

Still, my hand remained around my cock as my gaze sought out Greyson down below. He’d resumed his seat in the chair, which was conveniently angled toward my window. That bastard wasn’t even hiding the fact he was watching me. And he had to know that I knew he was there. Right? No one could be that oblivious, especially not someone like him who always seemed to intuit things before they happened.

What was he waiting for? To see how far I’d go? Could he see my dick, or was I too backlit by the lights? Was I stressing out over nothing? Stressing, yes, but not over nothing. Why else would he still be there, watching me?

I angled myself slightly, trying to make it look like a natural shift, as the yellow lights washed over my front side. There. There was no disguising my hard-on, or the fact my hand was sliding up and down my shaft slowly. Anyone with working eyes could see what the hell I was doing, a strangely thrilling fact. As thrilling as it was terrifying, at any rate. I’d never jerked off in front of anyone before, let alone a virtual stranger, in full view of the outside world.

I glanced down at Greyson. He was leaning back in the chair with his hips tilted and his long legs spread in front of him. My heart stuttered. I knew that pose, what that sprawl was all about. He had a hard-on too and that reclined position was one of the easiest ways of alleviating the pressure without physically rearranging things, like I thought I was doing two seconds ago.

My cock twitched again, realizing I did that to him. I turned him on. Me and my little voyeur show.

Dropping the boxers from my other hand, I stroked my cock a little faster, the dry friction teetering between feeling good and being too much. Fuck, this is so illegal… Was I that hard up that I’d risk my career over a hand job? Since I didn’t stop, I guess the answer was “Yes.”

It wasn’t long before my breathing turned ragged, too loud in the quiet of my room. It was easy to imagine Greyson was there with me, that the distance between us evaporated. Shit, being near him with clothes on made butterflies flit through me. What would happen if we were like this, totally naked, within arm’s reach of each other? It was almost dizzying to think about.

If we were in the same room together, would he still sit there, watching me with his intense gray eyes? Or would he touch me? Wrap his long fingers around my cock and stroke me until I came? Would he let me touch him ? Run my hands along his smooth skin and tangle in his perfect golden hair? Or would he skip the gentle caresses and go straight for the kill and suck my dick with those plush lips of his?

I worked up a mouthful of spit and let the stream drip onto the head of my cock, smearing it around. The warm, slippery relief was instantaneous and I couldn’t hold back a moan. I could almost see his mouth around my cock, feel his tongue gliding along it as he gazed up at me with a look of pure hunger. The pressure as he swallowed all of me into the back of his throat.

Just as my eyes started to drift shut, I forced them open and back to Greyson. The dark material of his pants was unzipped, his pale skin a visible triangle by contrast. It looked like his right hand had disappeared down the front. Holy fuck! He was jacking himself right there in the chair. Because of me! An unexpected burst of pride mingled with the lust coursing inside of me.

God, I wished I could have seen him up close. Heard his breathing. Smelled his cologne. Felt his warm body against mine as I tasted his lips. I wanted a sensory overload on all things Greyson Darkholme.

Throbbing in my fist, my cock leaked pre-cum like a fucking faucet while my mind conjured a dozen scenarios of the two of us, each one dirtier than the next.

The muscles in my lower abdomen constricted and my legs trembled, threatening to buckle.

Before I face-planted and knocked myself out, I braced one hand against the side of the window. Concentrating my efforts on the sensitive part of my dick, my palm twisted and slid over the swollen head as pleasure surged inside of me, a pornographic loop of Greyson on repeat in my brain.

Down below, Greyson’s arm looked like it was working just as fast as mine. We were in a race to orgasm and I wasn’t sure who I wanted to win first.

Was he the silent kind, or a screamer? Would he whimper and moan, or bite his perfect pink lip? I wished I was closer so I could find out. Maybe one day I would be. Between what I now recognized as flirting and those long, suggestive looks, I figured there was a pretty good chance if I had the balls to take him up on it. Would I? Would I get the chance to sink my dick inside of him and fuck him until we were both exhausted? Or would clarity kick in in about thirty seconds and I’d never think of him again?

Imagining Greyson in the throes of orgasmic bliss while I fucked him from behind, gripping his slim hips as I drove into him, was my tipping point.

Cum burst out of my cock in white, creamy spurts, coating my fist as it shuttled up and down, wringing out every last drop. Breathing hard, I slumped against the window frame, leaving little clouds on the cool glass.

The cold, hard clarity I expected never came. Despite the orgasm, my strange pull to Greyson remained. Searching him out again, I smiled to myself.

Greyson had stopped jerking himself and sprawled out some more, his head tilted back against the chair. He came. Even from a distance, I could tell by the way his hand was still clenched in his lap, holding the result of his efforts, much like mine was.

Ridiculously pleased by that realization, not to mention confused as fuck about what it meant for me, personally, and us as neighbors, I forced myself away from the window and returned to the bathroom to clean myself off. Again.

Hopefully Luke would believe me when I said I was stuck in the non-existent Mapleton traffic.