Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 51803 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51803 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
“What?” Valenti didn’t have a clue what O’Brian was up to, and he was pretty much too tired and emotionally drained to care.
“C’mere,” his partner replied, patting the couch beside him.
“Why?” Valenti felt the obligation to ask.
“Just c’mere,” was O’Brian’s reply. Valenti went to him, too tired to fight about it, and sat where his partner indicated. Without speaking another word, O'Brian wrapped his arms around Valenti and pulled him close.
“What ...?” Valenti tried to protest, but the feeling of strong arms around him -- the wonderful sensation of being held close to the one person in the world who would kill or die for him, who would never let him go -- was too strong to resist. Sighing heavily, he allowed himself to relax against O’Brian, wrapped his arms around the trim waist, and closed his eyes.
They sat like that for most of an hour, not saying anything. Valenti hadn’t wept then; the pain had been too deep for tears. But the feeling of his friend’s hands carding gently through his hair and the comforting scratch of O’Brian’s chest hair against his cheek had been like water to a man dying of thirst.
It was a well that never ran dry, and O’Brian never seemed to mind how often he came to drink from it. Words didn’t even seem to be necessary between them; somehow his partner just knew when he needed to be touched ...
Was that when I started to love him? Even before I almost lost him to the point of a junkie’s knife?
Valenti shook his head and went for the shower. He remembered how gently O’Brian had washed him the night before and the way he had taken care of Valenti afterwards. He hadn’t had to tell O’Brian what he needed; his partner had just known and provided it as he always did.
If only this assignment could go on forever, if only they didn’t have to go back to being what they had always been when it was over -- the best of friends, but still just friends. Ah, Sean, we could be everything to each other. I don’t need anyone else when I’m with you.
If only they could keep the physical aspect of their relationship that they had discovered at the RamJack. But Valenti knew it was impossible. O’Brian might be willing to play gay undercover and even push his personal boundaries enough to fulfill the unspoken fantasies of his partner once or twice. But it couldn’t last on the outside. There were too many pretty girls in short skirts in the world, and Valenti had no illusions as to where his partner’s true preferences lay. He couldn’t ask O’Brian to give up the pleasures of a woman’s soft body for a committed sexual relationship with his partner.
O’Brian loved Valenti very much; he was sure of that. But his partner wasn’t in love. Valenti, on the other hand, was deeply in love, in want, in need, and he saw no way out. For the first time, he began to wonder if it might be better for him to leave O’Brian in peace when this assignment was over. After six wonderful years of partnership and a friendship unlike any other he had ever had, maybe it was time to move on.
After drying off and getting dressed, Valenti glanced at the clock and realized it was almost eleven. He began to be alarmed. O’Brian had seemed very sure of himself when he talked about “dealing,” and Valenti had assumed that he would probably use Remy to convince Conrad to sell them some coke. Once the deal was done, the bust could happen, although he was sure O’Brian would have informed him of it by now.
He began to get a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. He should have heard from his partner by now. He shouldn’t have slept in and taken such a leisurely shower, letting himself brood over things he had no control over while his partner was doing the deal. He needed to be out there with O’Brian, getting his back instead of sulking like a child.
Hurriedly, he pulled on some clothes and went for the door. As he pulled open its solid oak surface, he came face to face with the same two goons who had delivered O’Brian to the door on the day they had first come to the RamJack. But this time his partner was nowhere to be seen.
“What --?” Valenti started to ask, but he was grabbed roughly under both arms before he could complete the question. His shoes barely touched the floor as he was dragged forcefully down the carpeted hall. He tried to struggle, but it was useless, like fighting a brick wall.
“Take it easy there, Detective,” the black- haired security guard who had taunted O’Brian the day before growled in his gravely voice. “Wouldn’t wanna get yourself all messed up before the show, now, would ya?” Valenti felt himself sag in their grip. Detective. So the jig was up, their cover blown. Only one question mattered now.