Melting Ice 6 Page 8

  * * * * * * Quincy blinked away tears. He was afraid, but he was so angry, angry that he and Bruce had been used that way, angry at all the years he and Tyler had spent apart, miserable. No, they weren’t going to die like this.

  Quincy crept to the back of the trailer. He saw the sheriff’s car coming toward them in the distance. He aimed the rifle and waited. He could see Tyler down on his haunches, waiting.

  The sheriff’s car stopped. “Quincy Ulverton,” he yelled out. “Come out with your hands up. You’re under arrest.”

  “I don’t have the money, Sheriff, you have it,” Quincy yelled back.

  “I found the money on your possession, son. You

  escaped custody. Don’t make this hard on yourself.” Quincy sucked in a breath as Tyler moved closer to

  the police car. He had to keep the sheriff talking. “I

  didn’t steal any money. You know that.”

  “Come out, son, and you can tell it to your lawyer.

  Now, don’t make me shoot you.”

  “But that’s what you want…for me to be dead.

  How much is he paying you, Sheriff?”

  “Now, boy, come on. Don’t talk nonsense.” Tyler was right beside the passenger door of the

  squad car.

  “I got a hostage.”

  “Yeah, whoever that trailer belongs to, I suppose.

  Is the hostage alive?”

  Suddenly Tyler stood up and pointed his gun at

  the open window. “Hostage is right here, Sheriff.

  Why don’t you get out of the car, nice and slow?” Quincy ran out of the trailor with the gun, holding

  it on the sheriff as he stepped out.

  Tyler walked over and took his gun. “Get down on

  the ground, hands on your head. Now!” Tyler leaned

  down and frisked the officer.

  “Who the fuck are you?” the sheriff growled. “Detective Richmond, NYPD.”

  “Fuck,” the sheriff groaned, then laid his face on

  the ground. “Fuck!”

  Quincy walked over and grabbed Tyler’s arm.

  “You okay?”

  Tyler nodded. “You?”

  Quincy took a breath. “I think so. Now what do we

  do?”

  “We take him back to the trailer and wait,” Tyler

  said. “There could still be more of them out there. We

  don’t need to be out in the open like this.”

  Quincy helped Tyler drag the sheriff inside the

  trailer, and they waited inside. Tyler asked him all

  kinds of questions about where he’d been taken, what

  he’d seen and how many men he saw. Quincy told

  him about the dead people on the floor. “It was

  horrible.”

  “Don’t worry,” Tyler said. “We’ll get Kole.” About thirty minutes later, three patrol cars

  showed up. Tyler explained the situation as the

  sheriff was cuffed and read his rights.

  “Listen,” Tyler told Quincy, leading him over to

  one of the police cars, “you’re going to go with this

  officer here in the car. She’ll take you to the station.

  They’ll be some questions. I’m going back to the

  house where you said they took you. We gotta get

  Kole.” Tyler opened the back door of the squad car

  for him.

  “Be careful,” Quincy said.

  Tyler nodded. “Don’t worry. Take care of him,” he

  said to the officer.

  She nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  Quincy watched Tyler jog over to another squad

  car. He got in and the car sped off down the road.

  * * * * * * Quincy was in the interrogation room for over an hour, then a police officer drove him home.

  Quincy paced the floor for a while, then sat down on his sofa and eventually dosed off.

  When he opened his eyes again, it was early morning. He made some coffee, and was tempted to call the station to ask if Tyler was back.

  Had he dreamed it all? Had Tyler actually told him he loved him? That was the up part. The other side was that he’d gone to jail for nothing, and so had Bruce. He’d shunned his brother, and now he was gone.

  He shed some tears, then drank his coffee. He called his employees to say he wasn’t coming in and to handle things for a while. Then he headed to the graveyard to say what he needed to say to Bruce.

  It took him a long time to articulate words. He stood at the grave and cried bitter tears. “I should have trusted you, believed you. I’m so sorry, Bruce. So sorry.”

  When his cell phone rang, Quincy was drying his eyes on his sleeve. He cleared his throat and looked at it. Private number? He flipped open and put it to his ear. “Hello?”

  “Quincy?”

  “Tyler?” He gripped the phone. “Thank God. You okay?”

  “I’m fine mostly, nothing that won’t mend.”

  “Damn it. And Kole?”

  “In custody. So are Sidney, his gal pal, and Kole’s henchmen.”

  “Are you okay? You sure?”

  “No, I’m not okay, Quincy. We need to talk.”

  “I know.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Talking to Bruce.”

  “Oh. You want me to call back?”

  “No. I’m finished.”

  “Want to come over?”

  “Yeah. I’m on my way.”

  A few seconds later, the phone rang again. It was Tyler. “Quince?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You don’t know where I live.”

  “Ah, yeah, I kinda do.”

  There was silence.

  “Well, I do know how to use a phone directory, you know?”

  Tyler laughed. “Gotcha!”

  * * * * * * Twenty minutes later, Quincy pulled up in front of Tyler’s apartment. He sat in the car for a while. Yes, he wanted to be with Tyler, but he wasn’t sure it would be easy.

  When he got to the door, Tyler opened it. He had a bruise on his cheek and his arm was bandaged. “Oh, Tyler, shit. Are you in pain?”

  Tyler opened the door. “I’m okay.”

  Quincy followed him inside. “This is nice.” There was a galley kitchen with a large living room

  and stairs leading up to what appeared to be a loft bedroom.

  “Want a drink?” Tyler asked.

  “Sure. Scotch, if you have it.”

  Tyler poured Quincy a scotch from the small bar. “Have a seat.”

  Quincy sat down and Tyler handed him the drink. “Is it really over?” Quincy asked him.

  “There’ll be an inquiry. Kole has been caught. I gather he’ll confess in exchange for a lighter sentence.” Tyler sat down in the chair across from him.

  “And for what he did to my life, to Bruce?”

  Tyler sighed and shrugged. “I don’t know. Sidney confessed to murdering Bruce, so you’ll have to testify. No guarantee the charge will stick.”

  Quincy swallowed the liquor. “I have a lot to make up for.”

  Tyler reached over and touched his hand. “So do I.”

  Quincy met his gaze.

  Tyler took his hand. “I should have put my own feelings aside and gone to bat for you, investigated, let you tell me what you wanted to.” He stood, ran his fingers through his hair. “I’m the one to blame for us breaking up. I put myself through hell and…you too.”

  Quincy got to his feet, reached out and pulled Tyler into his arms. He held him. “I didn’t believe my brother either. He tried to talk to me in prison, and I was too…” He paused. “We need to forgive each other and ourselves.”

  Tyler nodded. “I’ll never stop believing in you again, Quincy, believing in us. I promise, if you give me one more chance.”

  Quincy stepped back. He began to undo the buttons on Tyler’s shirt. “You got your chance. So show me. Show me how much you believe in me, believe in love. Make me feel
it, baby.”

  * * * * * * As Quincy finished removing his shirt, Tyler felt his throat go dry. He wanted Quincy so much, wanted it to be like before and as Quincy smiled at him and reached for the zipper on his jeans, he knew this time it would be even better.

  “We were so young,” Tyler said softly, helping Quincy pull down his jeans.

  Quincy went down to the floor, pulling at the briefs Tyler wore. He looked up at him. “We’re still young.” He grinned.

  Tyler caressed his hair. “Yes,” he nodded, “but we’re wiser, don’t you think?”

  “Baby,” Quincy pressed his lips against Tyler’s sex. “I know all you want to say, I want to say it too, but can we…talk later?”

  Tyler let his head go back, closed his eyes. He chuckled softly. “Yeah. Good idea.”

  As soon as Quincy licked up the length of his cock, Tyler let out a soft cry. How could he have gone this long without him? He almost wanted to send Sidney Bengal a thank-you card…almost.

  Tyler stumbled back against the wall as Quincy took his cock into his mouth, his tongue and lips moving over the sensitive flesh there, tightening, massaging, coaxing everything from him, his strength, his resolve…his love.

  “Jesus… God… ahhhhh… Quince!” He was struggling for breath, his chest heaving. “Don’t make me… ahhhh… shittt!”

  It was too late. Quince came off his cock as Tyler shot into his hand.

  Quince was on his feet. He drew him into his arms, kissed his shoulder, his check. “Take me upstairs, Ty. I want to give myself to you…I want to give you everything.”

  Tyler looked into his eyes, smiling. “Welcome home, baby. Just make me a promise. If you’re not sure of anything before you take it on, call me, no matter where I am, okay, and I’ll do the same.”

  “It’s a deal.” Quincy’s gaze went to the loft upstairs. “Now, please?”

  Tyler chuckled, nodded. Together they climbed the stairs to Tyler’s loft bedroom where they would begin to rebuild their dreams. “Thank you, Quincy,” Tyler said softly before he fell on the bed with him. “Thanks for giving me back my life.”

  Quincy moaned as Tyler flipped him onto his stomach and opened him up with his tongue. Softly, he said, “Our lives, baby, our lives.”

  Who is D.J.?

  D.J. Manly is a veteran of the M/M genre and has written well over 180 books. D.J. is published in ebook, paperback and audio formats. Be it horror, paranormal, science fiction, time travel, mystery, western, or contemporary, there are always guys falling all over each other in D.J.’s books, and falling in love.