Hashtags & Homicide – Chapter Nine

NOT EDITED

Just as he and Vera finished setting the table, Theodore heard Russell’s car pull into the drive. He smiled down at his daughter. “Do you wanna go let Russell in?”

“Yep! Make sure it’s him before I open the door?” Vera asked.

Theodore nodded. “Always double-check.”

“Okay. Back in a second, Daddy.” It wasn’t long before the front door opened. “Hi, Russ!”

“Hey, sweetheart. How’re you doing this afternoon?” Russell asked.

“Good. Daddy and I have been baking all day. We got a thing of cookies ready for you to take to work with you!”

“Wow, really? It’s like you guys read my mind and knew I was seriously craving some cookies.”

“You’re always craving cookies.”

Theodore snorted.

“You know, you’re not wrong,” Russell agreed. “Come here, you monster. You’re lettin’ all the cold air inside.”

Theodore lifted his head as Russell walked into the kitchen, Vera on his back, her arms wrapped loosely around his neck. Theodore smiled. “Good afternoon.”

“Afternoon.” Russell squatted down, and Vera dropped down from his back. “So, we got everything here? Need help carrying anything out of the kitchen?”

Theodore shook his head. “Vera helped me carry everything to the table. Unless you want something other than water, everything’s here.”

“Water’s good for me.” Russell pressed a kiss to Theodore’s temple and pulled out his usual seat at the table. “M’Lord?”

“I’ll whack you with the cane.”

Russell smiled, teeth on full display. “I’d like to see you try.”

Theodore snorted. “I’m sure you would.” He patted Russell’s hand and slid into the seat. He hooked his cane on the back of the chair as Russell and Vera sat down at the table. “So… how’s work?”

“Slow. I’m a paper pusher right now. I’ve been assigned a cold case, but it hasn’t moved forward for over a decade. Everyone in Rustin knows who did it, but their trial resulted in a not guilty verdict. It’s been an open case ever since.”

“So what do you have to do?” Theodore asked.

“The same thing all the other detectives have had to do. Check the witness statements, speak with any of them that are willing to speak, go over the evidence again, so on and so forth.” Russell stuck a forkful of spaghetti in his mouth. With the back of his hand covering his mouth, he added, “I’m not gonna make progress on it or anything. We can’t try the guy again without new evidence, and there is no new evidence. Christ, this is the second time I’ve been assigned this specific case.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Russ. In the least disturbing way possible, I hope something comes along that allows you to be less of a paper pusher.”

Russell chuckled. “Thanks, Teddy. In the least disturbing way possible, I hope you’re right.”

***

New Year’s landed on a Sunday, and at midnight, Theodore moved to straddle Russell’s thighs and kissed him. A soft moan fell from Russell’s lips, his hands sliding up Theodore’s back. Theodore pulled back after what felt like an eternity and leaned his forehead against Russell’s. “I’m sorry I can’t do more with you, Rusty,” he whispered. “I-I’m sure you’ve started off a couple new years with something more than a kiss.”

“I have no problem waiting until you’re ready, Theo. What I have or haven’t done to start off a new year doesn’t matter. What you and I do is all that matters. Comparing it to my past relationships or flings doesn’t do anything to help us,” Russell said. He laid a hand on Theodore’s cheek, thumb caressing the arch of it. “Teddy, I care a whole lot about you, and the last thing I want is for you to feel like you’re robbing me of something in this relationship. Us dating doesn’t mean I’m entitled to sex. It doesn’t mean you’re required to give it to me. I like you. You can throw sex at me when you’re ready for it.”

“What if I never am?”

“Then you never are. Teddy, I’m on meds that greatly inhibit my libido. So are you. I don’t have some insanely high sex drive that needs to be satisfied every damn day. I get all the intimacy and more that I need from you. If you never want to do more than this—”

“I want to. I think. But I can’t. That’s the problem.”

“Sorry. I’ll rephrase,” Russell said softly. “If you can never do more than this, that’s okay with me. We don’t need to be naked and screwing for there to be intimacy here. I mean…” He waved his free hand between them. “Look at us now, Teddy. You don’t think this stance is intimate?”

Theodore looked down for a moment before clearing his throat. “I, uh… I-I guess it is.”

“Exactly. We’re fully clothed. That doesn’t have to change for there to be intimacy here. Sex isn’t the only form of intimacy, Teddy. It’s important to me that you know I believe that with every fiber of my being.”

“I believe you,” Theodore assured. “Gina told me that same damn thing, you know. That, uh, that intimacy isn’t only sex. But I guess it’s still a hard pill to swallow.”

Russell’s brow pulled together, that look of pure understanding on his face. Theodore loved that expression more than he ever thought possible. Someone else understood him, understood his feelings, understood his triggers. It had been downright impossible to believe in the beginning, and even now, it seemed unbelievable more often than not.

How the hell was it possible for people like Russell to exist when people like Shane were allowed to exist too?

Theodore blinked, eyes focusing on Russell’s face again.

The detective cocked his head to the side. “Where’d you go?”

“I still can’t believe you’re real. I still find myself waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

“I’m not perfect, Theo, I promise you that. I’d be an alcoholic if I didn’t have to make sure my mom and siblings were taken care of.”

“You can say that all you want, Russ, but you have more self-control than you give yourself credit for. I was right there with you while you were working Vince’s murder. You wanted to die, Russ. Genuinely wanted to die. And you were still in control of the majority of your alcohol intake.”

“I had to be. I still had to pay the bills, make sure everyone was safe, had a roof over their head. I… I had to be.”

“ ‘Had to be’ is something we tell ourselves to prevent ourselves from being allowed to fully enjoy our accomplishments,” Theodore said.

“Who told you that?”

“My dad.”

“He’s a smart guy,” Russell said with a soft chuckle. “He’s probably right about that, you know. If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s dumbing down my achievements or accomplishments. It was drilled into my head as a kid that nothing I did would ever be good enough. I’m sure you know all about that too.”

Theodore nodded. “I do. It’s unfortunate that that’s the sort of thing we relate on.”

One corner of Russell’s mouth lifted. “I know. We relate on all kinds of other stuff, though, so it’s okay.”

Theodore smiled, thankful for the change in topic. “What kind of stuff?” he asked, arms tightening around the back of Russell’s neck.

“Well, we both really like Nurse Jackie. We both love a good book.” Russell smiled, reaching up to brush Theodore’s hair from his forehead. “We both think Vera is by far the greatest little girl in the world.”

“She really is, isn’t she?”

Russell nodded. “She gets that from you, Teddy.”

“Being the greatest… little girl in the world?”

The detective snorted, shaking his head. “No, the qualities that make her the greatest. Curiosity, bravery, kindness, imagination, generosity… You name it. She got it from you.”

Theodore shook his head before kissing him. He had no words left to say anyway. There weren’t enough ‘thank you’s or ‘you’re amazing’s built into the whole damn world for Russell Steele.

He pulled away, hands moving to Russell’s face. “You really wouldn’t care if we never had sex?”

“I wouldn’t.”

“I mean, like, never ever. Like, if we were old and sitting on the porch while our great-grandkids played in the yard, you wouldn’t look over at me and resent me for never being able to trust you enough for sex?”

A soft smile tugged at either corner of Russell’s mouth. “Theo, you just painted me a life where we grow old together and have kids, grandkids, and great-grandkids. In your ‘worst case scenario’, I’m already living the dream.” He rubbed his hands up and down Theodore’s arms before stopping just short of his shoulders. “Sex is not going to be what turns me off of this relationship. It’s not a requirement for this relationship. I enjoy sex. I can admit that, and I’m willing to admit that. But even when I was single and occasionally screwing around, it was just that. Occasional.”

“Even… even with your partner? Before she started dating Sam?”

“Even with her, yeah. At most, we slept together two or three times a month, and normally out of boredom and lack of case progress.” Russell squeezed Theodore’s arms. “I don’t need sex to be happy, Theo. I promise you that.”

Theodore searched the detective’s genuine eyes. “And you’ll tell me if that ever changes?”

“You’ll be the first to know.”

“Promise?”

Russell smiled. “Well, the second to know. I’ll be the first. So to you being the second to know if anything changes? I promise.”

“Good enough for me,” Theodore whispered. He pressed a kiss to Russell’s lips before leaning their foreheads together. “I can’t believe you really do seem to be in this for the long haul. It blows my mind every single time I think about it.”

“It blows my mind that you’re in it too,” Russell said.

“It does?”

“Absolutely. I’m so used to be shoved aside because I don’t immediately tell people I’m bisexual, like the fact that I also enjoy a woman’s body or that I also enjoy a man’s body is some disgusting sin I’ve personally created against every straight or gay person in the world. But you don’t care about that. You don’t care who or what I like. You only care that I like you, and I still have a hard time wrapping my mind around that. It means the world to me, reminded me that the people that throw a fit aren’t the majority of our community. They’re just an unfortunately vocal part of it.”

“Every group has its assholes.”

Russell chuckled. “Exactly.” He laid a hand on Theodore’s side, fingers toying with the seam of his shirt. “What’s our plan for today?”

“We could go to sleep or watch Netflix. I don’t have to work in the morning, and you… took the day off, right?” Theodore asked.

“I did. Just in case you wanted to do anything, and if not, that’s also okay. No pressure either way.”

Theodore smiled. Russell’s ‘no pressure’ relationship took a world of weight off his shoulders. Sure, he was still nervous and waiting for something to go wrong, but the idea that there was no pressure for him to jump into anything he wasn’t ready for was a relief in many forms. “I think we should start our new year with you and me curled up on the couch with something on Netflix.”

Russell chuckled. “Sounds like a plan to me, Teddy. Let’s go browse.”

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Chapter Eight

Chapter Ten

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Christmas Cannibal – Chapter Three

A/N: Just finished this chapter this morning, so here’s a slightly belated chapter three!**

NOT EDITED

After collecting himself from the sheer panic that had coursed through his veins at the very idea that his doors and windows were unlocked, Miguel bought himself a coffee and headed to the bar across the street from the butchershop. He twisted the doorknob, finding it unlocked. He walked into the bar, the little bell above the door dinging to signal his arrival. Miguel closed his eyes for a moment. He was almost certain that damn ding was going to haunt him for the rest of his life.

“Hey.”

Miguel lifted his head, eyes landing on the woman seated at the bar. “Hello. I’m Detective Pareja. Are you the gal who called the police about screaming at the butcher shop across the way?”

“Yeah, that’d be me.” She pulled out the barstool next to her and patted the seat. “You wanna drink with me, or just talk?”

“I’m unfortunately on the clock,” Miguel said. Truthfully, he’d love a damn drink. Anything to distract his brain from the constant loop of the child in the butchershop. But he needed his wits about him. He needed to be able to focus everything he had on the case at hand, and he couldn’t do that if he was busy getting buzzed or drunk.

He cleared his throat and walked over to the counter. He lifted himself onto the barstool. “What’s your name?”

She took a sip of her drink before crossing her arm over her chest, hand outstretched. “Mary St John.”

He shook her hand. “Fancy.”

She snorted. “I normally get ‘religious’. Fancy is more fun. Thanks.” She wrapped her hands around her drink. “What do you need to know?”

“Before I start asking anything, do you mind if I record this? Just the audio.”

Mary shook her head. “No, go ahead. Do your job.”

“Thank you.” He pulled his phone from his pocket and opened up the voice memo app. After pressing record and introducing the date, time, and interviewee, he took a sip of his coffee. “Walk me through your morning, Mary. What was going on before you heard the screams?”

“I was watching TV. Or, I guess I was watching Netflix on the TV. I thought I heard something, but it didn’t seem too loud. Figured it must’ve just been background noise from the show. But it got louder and… and more fearful.” She paused, taking a long sip of her drink. “I paused the show I was watching, and I could still hear the screaming. It got quieter when I walked toward my door, but it was a hell of a lot louder as I walked to the window. Butcher shop’s across the way. I couldn’t see any lights on, but I didn’t see anyone outside, and those alleys aren’t really a blindspot for murder.” She closed her eyes, dropping her forehead to rest in her hands.

“Take your time,” Miguel said, his voice soft.

“I wanted to go outside and check, but I was too scared to. I-I called the police instead.”

“That was a good choice. We could be looking at two bodies instead of one if you hadn’t.”

“Yeah,” she whispered. “I never saw anyone out there. I couldn’t see anyone moving inside the building. I never saw anyone walk down the street or hurry out of one of the alleys. I watched the whole time I was on the phone. I never saw… anything, even after the screaming stopped.” She turned to look at him. “Can you tell me who died?”

“No, I can’t release a name or anything right now, I’m sorry.”

She nodded. “Do you think I would have been able to save them if I had gone over there?”

“No. I really do think that would’ve endangered you, too.”

“That’s not just something you tell to witnesses who can’t stop thinking they should’ve done more?”

Miguel shook his head. “My ex-wife always told me I was terrible at hiding how I really feel about things. If I thought there was any chance you could have stopped the crime scene I had to walk into… I think you’d know.”

Mary blew out a harsh breath before taking a sip of her drink. “Is this feeling, like… common? Do people who call in deal with this insane form of survivor’s guilt?”

“Sometimes. I’ve seen it pretty often in my time as a detective. Generally, people care about people to some degree, and when we see another person struggling or in pain, many of us feel inclined to help them. Some of us even feel a sense of responsibility to help them. It makes sense that, even when there’s nothing you could have done, you’d feel guilty in some way.”

“Well, then I wish I was a worse person,” Mary said.

Miguel couldn’t help the little snort of a laugh that escaped him. “I can unfortunately understand that one too. I wish it on myself more often than I care to admit.” He cleared his throat. “I don’t want to eat up any more of your time than I have to. Do you happen to have any cameras on the outside of this building?”

“One. I have one of those, umm, Ring Doorbell things. It’s supposed to send a notification to my phone if it senses movement, and that didn’t happen this morning. It only records if I’m live reviewing the footage or if something activates the motion sensor thing.”

“So no footage.”

Mary nodded. “No footage. Sorry about that.”

“God, no need for that. This isn’t your fault, not in the slightest.” He tucked his notepad away, clearing his throat. “Thank you for your time, Mary. I’m going to leave you with a business card in case something comes to you that might be important. Otherwise, try to enjoy your day, Mary. It’s okay to feel guilty, but you did everything right.”

“Thank you,” Mary whispered.

Miguel nodded as he slid his business card over to her. “Take it easy, Mary.”

“You too, Detective.”

***

Miguel couldn’t help himself–before heading to the station to interview the butcher, he headed home. He unlocked the front door and walked inside. Landon made it into the foyer before Miguel could even close the door. “Where’s my boy?”

“Asleep on the couch,” Landon said, his voice soft. “God, you look…”

“The homicide of a toddler will do that to you.”

“I am so sorry, Miguel. That’s… horrible. I’m sorry.”

“Me too.” Miguel chewed on his bottom lip, gaze shifting to the back of the couch. “It’s a boy Eliseo knows. Daycare, couple playdates. I just…” He shook his head. “I know it sounds crazy, but when he woke up from that nightmare, he told me this Father Whipper thing was gonna kill his friends a-and chop them up, sell ‘em as meat or somethin’. That boy was… carved up pretty damn good. Harvested. Butchered. I wanna believe it’s a coincidence, but the more I think about it, the harder it is to believe.”

He expected Landon to tell him he was crazy, but he didn’t. Instead, when he met the man’s brown eyes, Landon simply looked… understanding. “Before I say anything, I need to know which way you want me to respond to that. Do you want me to tell you that it’s a coincidence? Or do you want me to tell you what I actually think?”

Miguel blew out a harsh breath. “That sounds like a question I don’t want to answer.”

“I can understand that. I’ll phrase it a little differently. Do you believe in ghosts?”

“Yes.”

Landon nodded. “My sister and I come from a long line of psychics on our dad’s side. About a year ago, when I was babysitting Eliseo for, umm… for your ex, I told my sister about one of his nightmares and sent her a picture of him. Your baby boy is… is a psychic, Miguel. My sister says she’s been able to sense him for a while.”

Miguel swallowed roughly. “You’re…?”

“Yes. I am, she is, and so is he.”

Miguel took a step back until his hand found the door. “I just, umm… I need a sec.”

Landon nodded, shoving his hands into the pockets of his dark blue jeans. “Take as long as you need. I’ve got all the time in the world today.”

Miguel crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the door. “What can you do? Read minds and shit like that?”

Landon shook his head. “I can’t, no. My sister’s abilities are more… wide range than mine. I can more or less mind-control people, but I don’t really do that often. It was cool when I was a kid, but it feels wrong as an adult. I can see the dead, help move them on… Stuff like that.”

“Nightmares?” Miguel asked.

“Sometimes, but I never have them from living people. I only see stuff from the dead, spirits who need help moving on from the Veil.”

“So you see, like… murders and shit? From people who have died?”

“On occasion, yeah. But it isn’t just people who are murdered that need help moving on. People who die naturally need help sometimes too.”

Miguel uncrossed his arms, burying his fingers in his hair instead. “What does your sister do?”

“A hell of a lot more than I do. Nightmares pre- and post-life, dream walking, mind-reading, auras… She pretty much does it all. She’s the strongest psychic I know.” Landon wrapped his fingers around Miguel’s forearms and pulled his hands from his hair. “I think you should meet her. You and Eliseo. She can sense psychics, sense what they’re all about, what they can do. She can help you work through this, uh, new territory.”

“Work through it? What do you mean? Like, get rid of it?”

Landon shook his head. “No, I’m sorry. But she can help you figure out how the hell to raise a boy with psychic abilities. It can be scary, Miguel. You’ve been experiencing that all day. My sister and I–I don’t know. Maybe we can help make this easier for you and Eliseo. As ‘easier’ as it gets, anyway.”

“Why the hell would you wanna do that? Why would you…? Why would you want to put your time into me and my boy?”

Landon searched his eyes for what felt like an eternity. For a moment, Miguel allowed himself to imagine that Landon was working to prevent himself from admitting he found Miguel attractive or liked him in any capacity. Unfortunately, the thought of his son being a psychic and facing horrible nightmares and real life murders quickly knocked that imagination of falsities out of his head.

“I want to help you because you’ve been a great boss, and Eliseo has always been a good kid. And if that’s not enough for you, I want to help you because I know how hard it can be for kids like Eliseo to grow up with a parent that just doesn’t… that doesn’t get it. And that isn’t your fault. It’s not your fault that you don’t get it. It’s just something he was born with and you weren’t.”

Miguel looked toward the living room again. “I just want Eliseo to be okay. I want him to not have to deal with any of this.”

“Well, I…” Landon cleared his throat. “I-I don’t know if all psychics are the same or not, but with my family, the abilities are controlled by tumors in the brain. If it’s done when he’s young, removing them will be, umm, easier. When my grandfather got them removed, he lost a part of himself he’d had for, y’know, six decades. He was never the same.”

“Cutting my son’s head open and letting some surgeons cut into his brain in hopes that it removes the nightmares.”

“It’s not ideal. I know.”

“Fuck,” Miguel whispered. He crossed his arms over his chest again, nails biting into his bicep. “Would I…? How would I meet your sister?”

“She lives about an hour away, give or take. If you’re interested, we could visit her as soon as you’re free to. She doesn’t leave the house much anymore, so we’d have to go to her.”

“This psychic thing has made her a shut-in?” Miguel nodded toward the living room. “So if I don’t get these tumors cut out of his head, then he’ll close himself off from the world?”

Landon shook his head. “No. I mean, I still, y’know, hang out in the world. And my sister’s husband, he does too. Nora, she just, uh…” He cleared his throat, looking down as he shifted his weight between his feet. “She just prefers helping people online nowadays. But if I vouch for you, she’ll meet you guys in person. I think it’ll be better that way.”

“Okay,” Miguel whispered. “I-I still have to talk to the guy who owns the shop we found the body in. We’re having a forensic analyst flown in from Los Angeles, so… so I need to be there for at least some of that, and I still need to notify the boy’s parents. But tonight? Tomorrow?”

“I’ll call her, see if tonight works. I’ll text you when I know for sure?” Landon suggested.

Miguel nodded. “Yeah. That works.” He let out a breath. “S-so if… if Eliseo is a psychic, and thinks this Father Whipper was going to kill his friends…”

“There’s a good chance that’s true.” Landon cleared his throat. “I looked into the Father Whipper thing while Eliseo was asleep. It’s what one might call, umm… supernatural.”

Miguel snorted. “What, like, vampires and shit?” Landon unfortunately didn’t crack a smile. “Oh. You’re not joking.”

“I wish I was.”

“The supernatural isn’t real, Landon. Ghosts are one thing. Werewolves and vampires and shit–that’s a whole other topic. It’s folklore, myth.”

“Folklore comes from somewhere, Miguel. Where better than reality?”

Miguel shook his head. He didn’t want to deal with this now, not in the slightest. “I need to get back to work. Let me know what your sister says.”

Landon let out a harsh breath, but he nodded. “I will. Don’t, umm, don’t work too hard.”

“Yeah. Take care of my boy.”

“Always do. I’ll take extra good care of him today, I promise.”

Miguel nodded, reaching back to open the door. “Lock this the moment I close it. Don’t unlock it for anyone. I have a key.”

“Okay, Miguel. I won’t, I promise.”

“Thank you.”

Landon only nodded.

***

After Miguel left, Landon locked the door and checked on Eliseo in the living room. Satisfied that the boy was still asleep, Landon headed into the kitchen. Leaned back against the counter, he pulled his phone from his pocket and called his sister.

“You’re nervous,” Nora said after the third ring. “I hope that doesn’t have anything to do with the boy I sent your way?”

“No. I mean, well, sort of.”

“Sort of,” Nora echoed. Do you want to explain, or do you expect me to do the heavy lifting and read your mind?”

Landon couldn’t help the little chuckle that fell from his lips. Nora always had a way of making him laugh, no matter how upset or nervous or stressed out he was. “So, umm, a few things. One, I told Miguel that Eliseo is a psychic.”

“Oh. How’d that go?”

“I’m not sure. He handled it without telling me I was a freak or a liar, and he didn’t kick me out of the house or ban me from babysitting. So that’s… something.”

“Definitely something. What made you decide to tell him? I know how worried you’ve been about how he would react once he found out, so I can’t imagine you just decided that’d be a fun way to spend the weekend.”

“God, my heart was fucking racing. I’m still a little shaky, honestly. But, umm, I didn’t have a choice. Eliseo, he had a nightmare this morning that some thing was going to kill his friends and sell them as meat or something like that. I’ve only gotten the details from Miguel so far. Anyway, the boy you sent my way this morning? Wanna take a guess at who he is?”

“Oh, God. Eliseo knows him?”

“Seems like it. His name’s Eddie, and he’s the homicide Miguel is working this morning. He told me about the nightmare, about the homicide, about how it didn’t seem like a coincidence. I couldn’t let him think he was stupid or crazy for putting those pieces together,” Landon said.

“You’re a good man, Landon. You risked your relationship with the man and your babysitting gig to try and give him some comfort. I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you.” Landon closed his eyes for a moment, letting out a slow breath. “I was wondering if you’d be willing to meet him and Eliseo tonight.”

“What’re you hoping I’ll be able to accomplish?”

“I don’t know. Anything, I guess. Helping Miguel understand the psychic thing a little better or finding a way to help lessen the severity of Eliseo’s nightmares. I think Miguel would accept any layer of help at this point. He just wants his little boy to be healthy, happy, and safe.”

“A reasonable desire.” A pause. “Yeah, I can see them tonight, and I’ll see what I can do. Just let me know what time you plan on swinging by so I can make sure the kids are either busy or asleep.”

“Thank you, Nora. Really.”

“You’re welcome. In return, you can tell Miguel you think he’s hot so I don’t have to listen to you complain about how unfairly hot he is.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Then no deal.”

Landon scoffed. “Whatever. You wouldn’t do that to me.”

After a moment, Nora laughed. “Unfortunately, you’re right. Seriously, though, maybe when this horrible homicide case is over… You know?”

“He’s in his forties, Nor. He’s not interested in me. And with the way things ended with his ex in public, I can’t even imagine how much shit he took behind closed doors. I doubt he’ll ever want to screw around with anyone ever again.”

“I think you’d be surprised, maybe on both fronts. But that’s all I’m gonna say.” Nora cleared her throat. “I’ll see you tonight, Lan. Let me know.”

“I will. And no more being all suspicious and shit about what you know.”

Nora snorted. “You don’t own me. I’ll be as suspicious and coy as I want.”

Landon rolled his eyes. “I’ll see you tonight. No more dream walking in the meantime.”

“It was technically astral projection. Basically. It doesn’t destroy my immune system nearly as much as dream walking.”

“Comforting.”

“I thought so. See you tonight.”

Landon nodded. “See you then. Bye-bye.”

“Bye-bye.”

He pulled his phone back and ended the call. Nora being willing to see Miguel and Eliseo was good news. She didn’t get out much anymore, and she met up with new people even less. Of course, Landon was pretty sure it had something to do with her desire to force him to tell Miguel that he’d wanted to jump his bones for at least the last six months, but he’d still take the win. Even if it was more fueled by a sisterly desire to score him a date and less about a sisterly desire to be helpful. He’d take what he could get.

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Chapter Two

Chapter Four

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Hashtags & Homicide – Chapter Eight

NOT EDITED

Russell woke up as Theodore slid out from under his arm and sat up in bed, legs hanging over the side of the mattress. Russell cleared his throat, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Morning.”

“Good morning.” Theodore’s voice was still quiet, but he sounded better than he had the night before. Russell figured he could chalk that up as a plus. “Sleep okay?” Theodore asked.

“Not too bad. How’d you sleep?”

“No nightmares.” Theodore smiled at him over his shoulder. “You musta scared them all away for me.”

“Ah, that’s what I’m here for.” Russell sat up behind him. “I… want to kiss your shoulder, but I don’t want to risk that being too much.”

“Shoulder should be safe.”

Russell leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Theodore’s shoulder. The shorter man lifted a hand, pushing his fingers into Russell’s dark hair. “Thank you for letting me come over last night.”

Theodore nodded. “Thanks for agreeing to come over. I was hoping having you here would help with the nightmares. Night before, I was riddled with them. I knew I couldn’t handle another night of that, especially not on my own.” He patted the side of Russell’s head, standing up as soon as Russell lifted his head. “Do… you mind taking me to work today?”

“Not at all. I’m more than happy to. Do you want me to take Vera to your parents’ place too?”

“If you’re okay with that.”

Russell nodded. “Totally okay with it. Her car seat’s in my car and everything.”

Theodore smiled. “Thank you.” He nodded toward the bathroom. “Shower’s yours if you’d like it. I’m gonna take a few to feed the fish and then start breakfast.”

“You sure you don’t need a morning piss?”

Fingers tightening around his cane, Theodore laughed. The sound was like music to Russell’s ears. Sure, it wasn’t nearly as loud as usual, but it was there. It was real. “I’m good. The biggest part of my brain and routine are still set to, uh, Shane’s… habits and routines. When I’ve had a heavily focused Shane day, that gets a little stronger. It was Shane’s bathroom until he left the house for work, no matter what. I-I’m a little stuck to that right now.”

“I won’t push you on it or force you outside of that comfort zone. You pee when you gotta and I won’t complain.” Russell leaned up on his knees, hands moving to Theodore’s face. “But for what it’s worth, on a day that’s less Shane-focused, I’ll never stop you from walking into the bathroom when I’m in there showering or shaving. My father was the same way. I get it. It’s a hard habit to break. But whenever you wanna break it, know that I’ve got your back.”

Theodore’s smile was soft and warm. “Thank you.” He touched the very tips of his fingers to Russell’s jaw and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “By the time you start showering, I’ll be in the kitchen. Holler if you need anything.”

“Okay, Teddy. Same goes for you.”

“Oh, really? Even if you’re in the shower?”

“You underestimate how many crime scenes I’ve attended with conditioner still in my hair.”

Theodore snorted. “Then I’ll holler if something requires assistance.” He stroked Russell’s cheek with his thumb, head cocked to the side. Russell would give anything to know what he was thinking, but he didn’t want to push him. On his good days, he found himself willing to ask once, just to see, but with Theodore still a little on the ‘bad day’ side of the scale, Russell knew it was best to keep any questions about where his mind was to himself. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Even now… do you still have triggers from growing up with your father?” Theodore asked.

“Yes,” Russell said after a moment. “They’re not as easily triggered as they used to be, but I do still have them. Some of them used to be so… heavy that I could be set off by someone touching my shoulder or my back. Therapy eventually helped me settle those a little bit, which I’m thankful for.”

“I’m starting Vera in therapy next week. I, uh, I’ve considered trying to find a way to get myself in it, and I figured you might know more than, you know, my parents or Gina.”

“I love that you feel safe asking me,” Russell said. He turned his head to the side to press a kiss to Theodore’s palm. “There’s a therapist just outside of town that offers discounted or free appointments for people who genuinely need them. I don’t see any reason why you wouldn’t qualify for that. As long as you’re comfortable accepting that form of help, I know you’ll qualify for it.”

“I don’t know that I’d be able to accept doing it for free. I think I’d feel… wrong for that. But I might be okay with the discounted rates.”

Russell smiled. “There you go. That’s a step in the right direction, Teddy, I promise.” He laid his hand over Theodore’s, curling his fingers beneath the other man’s. “We can schedule you an appointment online or over the phone. Hell, if you want, I can take you there so you can see the place first, and then we can schedule an appointment in person.”

“You’d… do that for me?”

“Absolutely. I know how hard all of this can be, how anxiety-inducing it can be to even think about getting help. If I can help make any part of it less stressful for you, I will.”

“Thank you,” Theodore whispered.

“No problem.” Russell pulled Theodore’s hand from his cheek and pressed a kiss to his fingertips. “I can take you on my lunch break. Today, tomorrow, a week from now. Whenever you want. We’ll go at your pace, just like always.”

“You’re too good to me, Russell.”

Russell shook his head. “No. You deserve any and all of the good that comes your way. If I’m some of that, great. You absolutely deserve it. I have no doubt in my mind about that.”

Theodore smiled before leaning in to kiss him. Russell kept his hands to himself, settling for giving Theodore’s hand a little squeeze as he kissed him back. Theodore broke away and patted Russell’s cheek. “Take your shower. I’ll let you know more on the therapist stuff when I figure it out myself.”

“Sure thing, Teddy. Be with you in a few.”

***

A text from Theodore had come in right as Russell was preparing to leave the station for lunch.

Theo: I’d like to wait until after Vera goes back to school, if that’s okay with you? I took a couple days off so I could spend them with her, and I already gave one up yesterday so I could have a breather. Ended up having to take today off for a mental health day anyway, so I’d like to spend it with her.

Russell: That’s fine with me Teddy. Like I said, I wanna take things at your pace. Not mine, not your mom’s or your dad’s, not Gina’s. Yours.

Theo: Thank you.

Theo: Do you still want to meet up for lunch? Vera and I are cooking now. Should probably be ready by the time you get here from the station.

A smile tugged at one corner of Russell’s mouth.

Russell: I’d love that. On my way.

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Chapter Seven

Chapter Nine

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Hashtags & Homicide – Chapter Seven

NOT EDITED

Theodore had still felt shaky and unsteady after his first shower. He’d still felt Shane’s hands on him after his second shower. He’d still cried during his third shower. Shower number four, however, had been… okay. He had been out of tears to cry, and his skin felt so raw that he wouldn’t be able to recognize Shane’s touch even if it actually was there.

Dressed in his pajamas, Theodore lowered himself to the edge of the bed and leaned his cane against the nightstand. A part of him, the Teddy part, wanted to text Russell and let him know he was okay. The much larger part knew he didn’t have it in him to bullshit any questions Russell asked afterward. Everyone he knew asked questions if they witnessed one of his events. What triggered it? What did it trigger? Did Shane do this? Did Shane do that?

He wasn’t ready to handle that from Russell too.

So instead, he lay down with a pillow hugged to his chest and prayed for sleep to come nightmare-free.

***

The night had not been nightmare-free. Theodore had tossed and turned for hours, watching Shane kill him a dozen different ways in his mind.

Theodore grabbed his phone and opened up his message thread with his mom.

Theo: Do you think you and Dad could watch Vera today?

Mom: Is everything okay sweetheart?

Theo: Yeah, everything’s fine. I didn’t sleep well, and I don’t want to risk taking that out on her. I’m already in pain. I just can’t.

Mom: Okay baby. I’ll send Dad over to pick her up. You let me know if you need anything today okay?

Theo: Okay. Thank you, Mom.

Mom: You’re welcome Theo. Dad’ll be there soon.

Theodore locked his phone screen and slid the device onto the nightstand. Closing his eyes, he rolled onto his back and hugged Russell’s pillow to his chest. He didn’t think he could handle seeing Russell anytime soon, but it didn’t mean he didn’t want to smell the man’s shampoo and conditioner. Thankfully, the pillow still smelled like that oh so familiar Russell scent.

Anything was better than the Shane scent embedded in his mind, but anything directly tied to Russell reminded him of safety and comfort. He needed it then more than he had in… quite some time.

***

Theodore lifted his head at the quiet knock on his bedroom door. “You up, bud?” his dad asked.

“Yeah. You, uh, you can come in.”

Jenner opened the door and cleared his throat. “Vera let me inside. Are you sure you want me to take her and go?”

“What… would the other option be?”

“I could babysit her here at the house. You know, in case you change your mind and decide you don’t wanna be on your own today.”

“I’m just tired, Dad. I didn’t sleep well.”

Jenner walked into the room. Hesitantly, he sat down on the edge of the bed and laid a hand on Theodore’s arm. “Theo, bud, I raised you. I know you’re not just tired. I knew as soon as your mom showed me your texts and asked if I could come get Vera. You don’t have to tell me what’s wrong if you don’t want to, but I don’t want you to feel like you have to sit here and suffer alone to protect us or to protect Vera.”

Theodore sat up in bed, Russell’s pillow still hugged to his chest. “Last night, Russell accidentally… triggered something. He touched my neck, and I could feel Shane’s hands around…” He swallowed. “I don’t know how to recover from that. I don’t know how to go back to our normal after that. He triggered it, saw the look in my eyes, heard the shake in my voice, saw me panic, saw me back away from him like I was scared of him. I don’t know what to do.”

Jenner dropped his hands to his lap. “I’m sorry you had to go through that, Theo. I’m sorry you feel some sort of shame that Russell saw it, too. I don’t know how much it helps you, but if anyone is going to understand what you’re going through, it’s Russell.”

“I know,” Theodore whispered. “I don’t even… think it’s shame I’m feeling. I just hate that he had to be the one to trigger it, that he had to see the fear in my eyes. I hate that, even for a second, he might’ve felt like I feared him.”

“I can understand that. You really like the guy. Of course you don’t want him to think you’re scared of him.”

“That makes sense to you?”

“Of course it does. You’re nowhere near as stupid and illogical as Shane tried to make you believe you were. You’re a very bright kid, Theo. You always have been. Marrying Shane didn’t invalidate that. You’re still just as smart as you’ve always been. Hell, probably even smarter now.”

“You think so?”

“Yes. You have more… life experience now. That adds on in intellect and wisdom.”

Theodore shifted and scooted close enough to lay his head on his father’s shoulder. “I’d like you to stay here to babysit Vera.”

“I can do that.”

“Thank you.”

Jenner wrapped an arm around his son’s shoulders and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “You’re welcome, kiddo.”

***

After tucking Vera into bed that night, Jenner had brought a plate into the bedroom for Theodore and headed home. With food in his system, Theodore grabbed his phone and finally checked the message Russell had sent him earlier that afternoon.

Russell: We don’t have to TALK talk yet if you don’t want to, but I just want to know you’re okay, as long as you feel all right responding.

Theo: I’m okay. Dad came over and took care of Vera today, made sure I ate.

Russell: Good, good. I’m glad you’re okay. Glad your dad was there too

Theo: Yeah

Theo: Are you okay?

Russell: I’m all right. Been worried about you, but I know what it’s like for someone you care about to trigger something. I didn’t wanna push you out of your comfort zone or anything. Just wanted to make sure you had time to exist without feeling crushed by me.

Theo: I appreciate it, Russ. Thank you.

Theo: Do you wanna meet up for lunch tomorrow? I can’t promise I’ll be in perfect me condition, but I don’t want to be in a Shane-funk forever.

Russell: Only if you’re sure. Because if you are, I’d love like hell to see you for lunch.

Theo: I’m sure.

Russell: Okay. Let me know if you change your mind, even if I’m already sitting outside the bookstore, okay?

Theodore tapped a finger to Russell’s name and called him instead. He pressed his phone to his ear and leaned back until he hit the mattress.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Theodore said quietly. “I just wanted to say ‘thank you’ in person. Or… over phone call. Voice-to-voice is harder to fake, and I wanted you to know I was being genuine.”

Russell chuckled that soft chuckle of his, a little flutter of butterflies erupting somewhere just left of Theodore’s heart. “I appreciate that. It’s good to hear your voice.”

“It’s good to hear yours too.” Theodore cleared his throat. “How’d your game launch go? Did I throw off your groove?”

“No, I used it to distract me from worrying about you too much. I wanted to text you all damn night and morning, but I didn’t wanna send it too soon. The game was a good distraction. Having Emey and Andrew talking in my ear for a couple hours was good too. Kept me away from anything unhealthy, which… if I had turned to that, it wouldn’t have been your fault. That runs in my blood.”

“Thank you for the clarification.”

“No problem.”

“I’m glad having the game and your friends helped you stay away from anything unhealthy.”

“Me too,” Russell said softly. “You gettin’ ready for bed?”

“Yeah.” Theodore closed his eyes. “Do you wanna come be my big spoon?”

“Would love to. Be there in thirty, Teddy.”

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Chapter Six

Chapter Eight

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Hashtags & Homicide – Chapter Six

NOT EDITED

“Steele.”

Russell lifted his head as he shrugged on his coat. “Hey, Loo.”

His lieutenant nodded. “I have a genuine question for you, and I want you to answer it truthfully. We’ll test out your answer for a bit and reassess afterward.”

“Okay?”

“If you have the option to work by yourself or with a partner, which would you prefer?”

“I-I’m actually getting the choice?”

Again, the man nodded. “Yes. You did a damn good job working Vince’s case, no matter how hard it must’ve been for you. Finding out two of our own cops planned to kill him and your partner…” He cleared his throat. “You did well despite… all of that. If you believe you’ll work better one way versus the other, then I want to stick with the way you think will go over better for you.”

“I think I want to continue working without a partner. I don’t know that I’d be able to focus on a case if I was working with someone. I… I think I’d be too concerned with making sure I wasn’t growing attached to them and with making sure they weren’t going to die on me,” Russell said.

“I figured that would be the case. I’ll let you continue working without one, and we’ll look at this again in a couple months, okay? As long as your performance stays up and you don’t ram our insurance premiums all the way up, I’ll let you make that choice every time.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“You’re welcome, Steele. Enjoy your evening.”

Russell nodded. “You too, sir.” Once the man had walked away, Russell zipped up his coat and stuffed his phone into his pocket. He had supper plans with Theodore and Vera, and having good news to share about work was exciting. It had been hard to get excited about anything at the stationsince Vince’s murder. The man, a former cop with Rustin PD, had been a mentor and father figure to Russell. Losing him had been hard, and adjusting to the station with the knowledge that he’d never see his favorite retired detective inside the building ever again had been… difficult.

Having good news to share was good. He’d take little, miniscule victories over bad days any damn day of the week.

***

After showering and changing out of his suit, Russell drove over to Theodore’s place. They often flip-flopped on whose house supper took place in, but Mondays were almost always Theodore’s place. Russell figured Theodore liked the guaranteed consistency of it. That, he could understand without any issue.

Russell knocked on the door and took a small step back, waiting. It wasn’t long before the door opened and his eyes landed on Vera. He smiled. “Hi, sweetheart.”

“Hi, Russell.” She stepped back, allowing him into the house.

“How was your day with Daddy?” Russell asked as he closed the door.

“Good! We maked brownies together and played a game together and drawed together.”

“Wow, busy day, huh?”

Vera nodded, grabbing his hand. “I have so many drawings to show you.”

He chuckled. “Let me see if your daddy wants any help with supper first, okay?”

“Okay.” Vera let go of his hand and ran back to the living room.

Russell smiled to himself, shaking his head. Over the past two months, Vera had become one of his favorite people. She made him feel like the father he had wanted to be for years. She was an absolute sweetheart, always wanting to show him all her drawings, always wanting him to read to her, always wanting him to play with her dolls with her. She made his heart nearly as happy as her father did.

In the kitchen, Russell stepped up behind Theodore and wrapped his arms around him. “Evening,” he greeted, pressing a kiss to the shorter man’s shoulder.

“Evening. How was work?”

“Good. Spoke with Loo. He asked me if I wanted a partner or not, left that decision up to me so it wouldn’t be forced on me instead.”

“Hey, Russ, that’s great.” Theodore wiped his hand on the towel on the counter and pushed his fingers into Russell’s dark hair. Russell closed his eyes, giving himself a moment to simply revel in Theodore’s touch. “Do you know why he’s letting you choose?”

“Because of how well I did with Vince’s case.”

“Good. You deserve at least some recognition for your work with that. You were so darn strong while you were solving that case. I’m still so proud of you.”

Russell sniffled, a smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. “Thank you,” he whispered.

“No problem, Russ.” Theodore patted his head twice before reaching out to wash his hand. “Does your mom have a cute nickname for you?”

“Like?”

“Like… my mom calls me Teedie.”

“Mm. That’s cute.” Russell lifted his head, resting his chin on Theodore’s shoulder. “Sully. Mom calls me Sully.”

“Does… anyone call you Rusty?”

“No.”

“Can I call you Rusty?”

Russell smiled, shifting just enough to kiss Theodore’s cheek. “You sure can. I like you a little too much to get too picky on what you call me.”

Theodore leaned his head against Russell’s for a moment. “Are you spending the night?”

“Not tonight. I’ve got a game thing planned with Andrew and Emey. Game launches at midnight.” Russell nuzzled the crook of Theodore’s neck with his nose, earning a soft chuckle from the auburn-haired man. “You like gaming with anything that isn’t, like Zoo Tycoon or Minecraft?”

“In college, sure. I played some shooters with my roommates.”

“If you ever wanna invest in a PS4, I could hook you up with the gaming crew. Adult interaction and conversation without ever leaving the house.”

Theodore laughed. “That does sound nice. Maybe someday… soon? I’ve been saving a lot of money on gas since Gina won’t let me pay her for it.”

“She just wants you to worry about bigger things, like Vera and keeping clothes on her back and a roof over her head. I bet she’ll let you pay her back someday.”

“I hope she will. I don’t wanna feel forever indebted, best friend or not.”

“I sure can’t blame you there, Teddy.” Russell pressed a kiss to the top of his head and stepped away from him. “Do you want help with supper?”

“I want… to handle as much of it as I can on my own. But, uh, I’ll let you know if I need help?”

“That works for me. I’ll be in the living room with Vera, okay? She’s got some drawings she wants to show me.”

“Okay. Thank you.” Theodore leaned up and kissed him. “My hip’s sore today, so I’ll you call in when food’s ready to help carry plates, if that’s okay.”

“That’s more than okay. Prioritizing your hip is always going to be okay with me. Call me back whenever you need me. I’m not far.”

Theodore’s pale, freckled cheeks pinkened. “I will.”

Russell pressed a kiss to his forehead and headed into the living room. He sat down on the couch beside Vera and kicked out the footrest. “All right, sweetheart. What kind of cool drawings do we have today?”

Vera snuggled up to his side and opened her little sketchbook on his lap. “I’m gonna show you the one Daddy and I did together first.”

He chuckled, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Go for it. Show them in whatever order you want, sweetheart. You have my full attention.”

***

Russell rinsed off the last plate and set it in the dish drainer. He shut off the water as he heard Theodore’s steps behind him. “Hey.”

“Hi.” Theodore wrapped his arms around Russell, resting his cheek between Russell’s shoulders. “Thank you for washing dishes.”

“No problem. Vera go to sleep okay?”

“Mmhmm.” Theodore slid his hands up to Russell’s chest. Russell smiled, drying off his own hands before laying one over Theodore’s. “She was really happy that you let her show you all those drawings.”

“I love her little sketches. I’d let her flip through that damn sketchbook for hours if she wanted.”

Theodore stepped away from him, allowing him to turn around. Theodore pressed his hands to Russell’s chest again. “This thought scares me, but I think you should know it. You… are acting like the second dad she never got to have, and that means the world to me. It means so much to Vera too. I-it scares me that when I saw you in that sweater on Christmas, my first thought was that you looked like the family man I always wanted, but I want you to know it.”

Russell smiled, heat rushing up to his face. He laid his hands on Theodore’s cheeks, gently tipping his head back until their eyes met. “I’ve been looking for a family person for as long as I can remember. Once I figured out I liked men too, including them in the equation made things… scary and complicated, simultaneously narrowing my options and expanding them. But for what it’s worth, I want you to know that you’re the family person I’ve been looking for this whole fuckin’ time.”

Theodore leaned up and kissed him, hands wrapped around the front of his shirt. Russell let out a soft sound, one hand sliding down to Theodore’s neck. Theodore pulled away like he’d been burned, a hand jumping up to his throat.

“Teddy?”

“S-sorry. I’m…” Theodore cleared his throat, taking a step back. “I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Teddy. You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for. I am sorry for touching your neck. It didn’t even cross my mind that could be one of your triggers. I’ll make sure to avoid that in the future. I’m sorry.”

Theodore nodded. “I-I need a shower. Enjoy g-game night.”

“It doesn’t release until midnight. I can stay till then, Theo. Or if you need me here, I can cancel, put it off till tomorrow.”

Theodore shook his head, backing into the island. “Nope. No, no. You go, have fun. I just need a shower.”

“Okay.” Russell stepped to the side, giving Theodore the space he needed. “I’m sorry, Theo.”

“N-not your fault.”

Russell fought every urge he had to pull Theodore into a hug or wipe the lone tear from his cheek. He knew what it was like to have a trigger set off by someone you cared about, and he knew it was far from pleasant. “I’ll go. Text or call me as soon as you’re ready, okay?”

Theodore nodded. “Mmhmm. N-night, Russ.”

“Night, Theo. Take care of yourself.”

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Chapter Five

Chapter Seven

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Christmas Cannibal – Chapter Two

NOT EDITED

“Psst.”

Landon Clark cracked open an eye, turning his head just enough to scan the half-darkness of his bedroom. He was still mostly asleep, but he was certain he had heard a voice. “You can either tell me who you are and what you want help with, or you can wait until I wake up on my own.”

The voice giggled. “You’re so grumpy.”

Landon pushed himself up on his elbows, brow furrowed. That wasn’t just a voice. That was a child. He rolled over to his back and sat up. Eyes scanning his room, he reached out to turn on the lamp on his nightstand. “Yeah, sorry about that. I, umm, I’m Landon. What’s your name?”

“Eddie.”

“Eddie. Nice to meet you. Can you come out so I can see you?”

A little boy manifested near the foot of the bed. His shirt was soaked with blood but was otherwise pristine. A deep and bloody cut peeked out from beneath the collar of his shirt. Landon couldn’t help but wonder how far that wound ate into his abdomen to cause as much blood as it had.

Landon cleared his throat. “What’re you doing here, Eddie?”

Eddie lifted his shoulders. “I dunno. A nice lady led me here and said you would help me.”

“What’d she look like?”

“Like you, kinda. Reddish hair. Greenish eyes. Lots of freckles.”

Landon nodded. His sister. She was dream walking again. “That’s my sister. She’s right. I, uh… I’m pretty good at helping kids in your situation.”

Eddie cocked his head to the side. “A dead situation?”

“Oh. Okay, so you know you’re… That’s something. Do you know how it happened?”

“Sorta. Bits and pieces.” Eddie looked down as he ground the toe of his bloody slipper into the carpet. “Do we have to talk about it?”

“Not if you don’t want to.” Landon turned toward his nightstand as his phone rang. “Do you mind if I answer that?”

Eddie shook his head. “That’s okay. I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

“Yeah,” Landon whispered. He grabbed his phone, staring down at Miguel’s name on his screen. Though a phone call or a text from his boss always made him a little warm and giddy inside, he had a feeling the reason for that morning’s phone call was standing at the end of his bed. He glanced back at Eddie before accepting the call and pressing his phone to his ear. “Morning, Miguel.”

“Morning.” Miguel cleared his throat. “I hate to ask on such short notice, but are you busy today?”

“Not really. What’s up?”

“I got called in for work. I, umm… Eliseo needs a sitter for a few hours.”

“Yeah, no problem. I’ll be over in… fifteen?”

“Fifteen works. Gives me enough time to shower. Thank you, Landon.”

“Of course. See you soon.” Landon ended the all, unable to help the little smile that came to his face. Despite the fact that it usually meant someone had died, Landon always enjoyed when Miguel called him before he took his morning shower. It almost always meant he’d get a nice look at Miguel’s chest for a minute or two before he got dressed.

Miguel was about twenty years older than Landon and would likely never be interested in him, but that didn’t stop Landon from looking.

“I have a babysitting job to get to. How do you feel about hanging out in the living room and watching as much YouTube as you want? Or as many cartoons? Up to you.”

Eddie smiled, and for a moment, it was almost easy to ignore the blood and visible wounds peeking out from beneath his clothes. It was almost easy to picture him as a lively little boy instead of a dead child. “That’d be cool.”

“Awesome. Come on. Let’s go find you something to watch.”

***

Scrubbing at his hair with his towel, Miguel headed to the front door. He unlocked the doorknob, a frown on his face. The door only had one lock. When he had lived alone–save for his allotted weekend every month with Eliseo–that hadn’t been a problem. Now, with a three-year-old in the house that could reach the doorknob, it didn’t seem like the safest option. He made a mental note to stop at the hardware store after the crime scene and pick up another lock. Maybe three.

He tacked on a second mental note to make it well-known that the new desire for locks had absolutely nothing to do with the homicide coincidence and everything to do with Eliseo’s safety.

Miguel pulled open the door. “Thanks for coming on such short notice. I wasn’t supposed to work today, but…”

“Crime never stops,” Landon filled in. Not for the first time, those sparkling brown eyes dragged over Miguel’s bare chest before settling on his face again.

It was always a nice little boost to Miguel’s ego, a twenty-something finding him attractive enough to catch his bottom lip between his teeth for a split second as he gave him a nice once-over. Miguel wasn’t exactly oblivious to Landon’s good looks or charm, either, but he had no intentions on acting on it. Truthfully, he didn’t have the balls to. Even after he had admitted to himself he was gay–after the divorce and the fallout that had come with it–he had never worked up the courage to be with a man. He wasn’t sure he ever would.

Landon often made him wish that he would, though.

Miguel cleared his throat. “Sure doesn’t.” He nodded toward the kitchen and stepped back from the door. Landon walked inside, closing the door behind him. “Eliseo’s still asleep. He had another nightmare this morning, so he might be a little jumpy, and he’ll probably be a bit groggy.”

Landon nodded. “Anything we should avoid today?”

“If you happen to know where he heard about Father Whipper, then yeah, avoid that.”

“Father… what?”

Miguel offered a shrug, hoping it came off as nonchalant as he intended it to. It was nice to pretend that the murder of a three-year-old the same exact morning his son practically predicted it didn’t bother him. It was nice to pretend there weren’t a million questions, what ifs, and concerns swimming around in his head.

It was nice to pretend it was just a normal Sunday in December.

“Father Whipper. He called him some French-sounding name too, but I don’t remember what it was. I was planning on checking to see if that monster show added some new fucked up villain character.”

Landon shook his head. “Not that I know of. I always sit here and watch it with him.” He chuckled. “Their newest villain is actually a nod to the Winchesters from Supernatural. Flannel shirts and everything.”

“It’s good to know that’s a bit more child-appropriate than this Father Whipper thing.” Miguel let out a breath. “Back at square one.”

Landon smiled. “I’ll see if I can get any info out of him today. Sometimes he likes talking about the nightmares while he colors. Maybe I can find out where he heard about Father Whipper.”

“Thank you. I appreciate the hell out of that.” Miguel cleared his throat. “I’m gonna finish getting dressed, and then I’ll be on my way. Hopefully I won’t be gone all day.”

“Well, take your time. I’m here today as long as you need me.”

A smile tugged at one corner of Miguel’s mouth. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard that. It was such a simple phrase, such an easy one to put together, but it felt warm and kind and caring. Especially coming from Landon. “Thank you. Don’t know what the hell we’d do without you.”

“Oh, it’s no problem. Eliseo’s a good kid. The least I can do is try to help take away some of the scariness of the bad dreams.”

“It’s appreciated.” Miguel took a small step back. “You know the drill. Coffee’s in the kitchen, food’s in the fridge. Make yourself at home.”

Landon nodded. “Sounds good.”

Miguel turned and headed back to the bathroom. He closed the door and leaned back against his, dropping his head to it as he closed his eyes. He allowed himself to pray the dead toddler was a coincidence one more time before he went about getting dressed.

***

While Miguel finished getting dressed in the bathroom, Landon walked back to the bedroom to check on Eliseo. The boy lay sound asleep in the middle of his toddler bed. Landon always found himself surprised that the boy was able to sleep at all. His sister had started seeing things in her dreams pretty early on, and she’d had insomnia practically ever since. But Eliseo took the nightmares in stride and just kept pushing forward. He was a strong kid, that was for damn sure.

“That you, Landon?”

“Yeah, buddy, it’s me.” Landon crossed the room and knelt down beside the bed. “How’re you doing?”

“Okay. Daddy protected me from the bad guys in my dreams.”

“Yeah? Your daddy’s pretty strong like that.”

Eliseo nodded. “He is.” He shoved a little hand under his pillow, eyes meeting Landon’s. “Are you gonna tell my daddy you like him?”

Landon smiled. “Maybe someday.”

“You always say that. It’s code for ‘never’.”

Landon scoffed. “Is not.”

“You’re a chicken,” Eliseo whispered.

“Maybe I am. Or maybe I just like you and your daddy too much to risk my job here.”

“Maybe,” Eliseo agreed with a little nod. “Are you babysitting today?”

“Yeah. Just gonna be you, me, and some cartoons for a few hours. Your daddy got called in for work.” Landon combed Eliseo’s light brown curls away from his forehead. “But if you’re tired, you can go back to sleep for a little while. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“And… you’ll protect me from the bad guys while I’m asleep?”

“Oh, of course. The best I can.”

Eliseo nodded. “Okay. Wake me up when my monster show is on.”

Landon chuckled softly. “You got it, buddy.”

***

Miguel pulled up to the yellow crime scene tape and shifted into park. He cut the engine in the cruiser and pulled the keys from the ignition, hands falling to his lap. He wasn’t ready for this scene, not really. The mutilated corpse of a toddler wasn’t something anyone wanted to see, something anyone could ever be prepared for, but there was something he had that the other detectives didn’t.

A toddler son at home. A toddler son who most likely knew the dead kid. A toddler son who was most likely friends with the dead kid.

He let out a slow breath, closing his eyes. The longer he put it off, the longer he’d simply build up the dread, the worry, the fear. The longer he put it off, the longer the idea that this wasn’t some kind of coincidence had to ferment in his brain. He didn’t want to allow the thought to take root. He didn’t want his daily decisions based upon some damn legend he’d never even heard of.

Miguel flinched at the knock on his window. He forced his eyes open and turned to the cop standing outside his cruiser. Miguel let out a breath. Might as well get it over with. He pushed the driver’s side door open and climbed out of the car. “Morning, Justin.”

Justin nodded. “Morning.” He cleared his throat. “It’s a real fuckin’ mess in there, Miguel. If you can’t do this—”

“I’ll let you know once I see it. For now, let’s go see if we can’t find anything that tells us who murdered a little boy, okay?” Miguel asked.

Justin nodded. “I-I’ll take you to the door, but I can’t go back in there.”

“That’s fine, Justin. I sure as hell can’t blame you for that.” Miguel pocketed his keys and closed the door. “Take me up.”

Justin turned and headed for the butcher shop. Miguel followed, hands shoved into his pockets. “Watch your feet and all that good shit. We’ve had both of our analysts in there, and neither could handle it. Chief is calling in outside help for it, so… be careful.”

“I will. I’ll just stay in the doorway if I’m worried getting over to the body without stepping in or on something will be impossible.”

Justin reached out with a gloved hand and pulled open the door of the shop. The little bell above the door jingled, celebrating the arrival of a homicide detective rather than a customer.

Miguel stepped through the doorway, avoiding the broken glass on the ground. “Is the broken glass from us or the killer?”

“Us. The door was locked.”

Miguel nodded. “Any idea who Chief is bringing in?” he asked

“Heard her mention Pitman’s name.”

“L.A. Pitman?”

“The one and only.”

Miguel glanced up at the ceiling. “His glory analyst still that Austen guy?”

“I think so.”

“So… Chief’s going to call and ask Pitman to send in a forensic analyst that was in the news, like… last year for being charged with, what, three homicides?”

Justin offered a shrug as he stopped at a door near the counter. “The charges were dropped during the trial. I don’t think Pitman would fire his star dude over a wrongful accusation.”

“Yeah, or Pitman had something to do with his release,” Miguel said.

“Possible. But the guy’s good at what he does. If any analyst is going to be able to stand in there and take pictures… it’d be him.” Justin cleared his throat. “Speaking of, this is as far as I go. Kid’s through that door.”

Miguel stopped in front of the closed door and let out a breath. “Is it bad because it’s a kid, or because of what was done to him?”

“Both, but I’d still have a hard time going in there if it was an adult.”

Unfortunately, Miguel wasn’t sure if that was better or worse than whatever answer he had been expecting. He drew in a breath and held it as he opened the door. The moment his eyes landed on the boy, he averted his gaze, focusing on the floor instead. He watched his step as he made his way over to the body. He stopped at the drain on the floor, unable to draw himself away from the blood that had pooled around it as it slowly dripped through the drainage holes.

Swallowing, he forced himself to lift his head.

The boy hung right side up on a meat hook shoved between his shoulder blades. He’d been cut open from his groin up to his chin. Miguel wasn’t certain of which organs had been left behind and thrown on the table behind the boy’s corpse, but there were at least three of them.

He lifted the back of his hand to his mouth, looking down as he took a small step back. The boy was a kid from Eliseo’s daycare. Eddie Something. They’d had a couple playdates here and there, and Eliseo enjoyed playing make-believe Pokemon games with him.

“Fuck,” Miguel whispered. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Pareja?” Justin asked from outside the door.

“I-I’m here.”

“Just making sure.” Justin cleared his throat. “How’re you doing?”

“Not great, but I’m managing.” Miguel turned away from the boy and made his way back to the door. He walked into the main part of the shop, and Justin closed the door behind him. “Who found the body? How did they find the body?”

“Somebody heard screaming inside and called us. I and two other patrol cops responded to the dispatch and found, umm…” Justin nodded toward the door.

Miguel nodded. He lifted his hands to his hips as he bowed his head, doing what he could to keep his thoughts strictly case-related. “Do we have the name and address of the caller?”

“Yeah. Gal who owns the bar across the street. She lives right above it, so she was at home when she heard the screams and called us. I’m sure Dispatch has a first name for her.”

“All right. I’m gonna take a little break and then head over there to talk to her. I want the owner of the butcher shop found and taken to the station for questioning. Put him in interrogation three and give him coffee and breakfast. Not the coffee at the station. Actual good coffee. I don’t want him thinking he’s a suspect right now.”

Justin nodded. “Can do, Pareja. See you at the station.”

Miguel offered a terse nod and walked out of the shop. He headed for the cruiser, pulling his phone from his pocket as he walked. He pulled up Landon’s number from his contacts, called it, and pressed his phone to his ear.

“Miguel? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine. I just need you to, umm, to do a favor for me.”

“Sure. What’s up?”

Miguel pressed his free hand to the hood of his car, bowing his head. “Go into Eliseo’s room and check his windows. Make sure they’re closed and locked.”

A pause. “Are you sure everything’s okay?”

“Of course. It’s just a little chilly out this morning. Wanna make sure I closed his windows and that he can’t open them.”

“Okay,” Landon said slowly. It took little more than a minute for him to come back with, “All of them are closed and locked.”

“Good,” Miguel whispered. “The front door and the one that leads to the backyard. Locked?”

“I’ll go check.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Another pause. “Both are now locked.”

Miguel closed his eyes. “Thank you, Landon.”

“Of course.”

“I, uh…” Miguel cleared his throat. “I’ll hopefully see you soon to relieve you from spontaneous babysitting duties. Got a couple people to question, but once I’m at the station, I can come get him and have him there with me.”

“No worries, Miguel, seriously. Eliseo’s a great kid, and my day’s free, anyway. I’m here for as long as you need me.”

“Thank you.”

“Mmhmm. I’ll see you when I see you.”

Miguel nodded, though the younger man couldn’t see him. “See you when I see you.”

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Chapter One

Chapter Three

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S. Carved – Chapter Seventeen

NOT EDITED

Chapter Seventeen

Dallas pulled up to the curb and shifted the cruiser into park. “Do we know anything about this guy?”

“Other than his name and address?” Bo asked from the passenger seat. “No, not quite. Though I’d love to be allowed to research every suspect, witness, or person involved in a case—”

“Yeah, it was a stupid question, huh?”

Bo snorted, shaking his head. “No, I’m serious. I would love to, but Lieutenant says we don’t have the funds to provide for it.”

“Paying you the hours, I imagine?”

“Yes, I suppose. Most likely paying for the things I could access with a bit of hacking, as well.”

“No shit. You hack shit?”

“It’s an enjoyable pastime, though I try not to do more than dabble in it. My adoptive mother assures me she didn’t raise a criminal, and I suppose that’s a jab at my not-so-legal hacking.”

Dallas laughed as he undid his seatbelt. “Why, Austen, I didn’t know you were a rule-breaker.”

“I’m a rule-follower with minor exceptions.”

Dallas practically cackled, pushing open the driver’s side door. “Man, I am glad we’re friends.”

“Officially, I do believe I’m your babysitter.”

“Mm, pretty sure we agreed on ‘partners’.”

Bo cracked a small smile. “I recall that being something I offered to refer to you as that in front of witnesses.”

“I… unfortunately recall much of the same.”

Ugh, you do this shit with Xavier too. Don’t start talking like the guy. Please, for the love of God, don’t start talking like him, Ed said.

Dallas bit back an eyeroll. If you hate the way he or Xavier talks so much, maybe you should find someone else’s head to be bound to forever.

Ed laughed. Yeah, maybe I should, Tex. Maybe I should.

Dallas cleared his throat, nodding his head toward the house. “You’re coming in with me, right? Partner?”

“Of course. I don’t plan to do much talking, if that’s all right.”

“That’s fine. I’d like to test my hand at a homicide witness interview. But if I get stuck…?”

“I’ll step in, just like I did at the beach. I’ve thankfully hung around enough to know my way around an interview. I just find there are less problems with things the less I talk,” Bo said.

Wonder why? Ed mumbled.

Dallas shook his head. If he managed to get rid of Ed in the next five minutes, it still wouldn’t be soon enough.

Dallas and Bo walked up to the door and, as expected, Bo hung back while Dallas lifted his good hand to knock. “What’s his name again?”

“Joseph Harper.”

“Do I tell him I’m an officer or a detective?”

“I’d personally go with neither. One’s a lie and one unfortunately sounds less official when investigating a homicide. People pick up on that with their level of cockiness. You work for the Homicide Department of the LAPD. You don’t have to give him a title,” Bo said.

Dallas nodded. He figured that was easy enough, and not admitting he was an officer being forced to do a detective’s job for less pay would always be nice. Or… some form of ‘nice’, at the very least. “Sounds good to me. Ready to head up?”

“Ready when you are.”

If you entertain the blonde’s bullshit for even a MOMENT in there, I will ruin this interview for you.

He isn’t even planning on talking. I’m not sure there will be any ‘bullshit’ to entertain.

Ed chuckled darkly. Well, let’s hope for that, then.

Dallas rolled his eyes. He really needed to re-adopt his policy of never responding to Ed’s dumb ass.

At the door, Dallas lifted a hand and knocked. “Name?”

“Joseph… Harper,” Bo said slowly. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just feel like I’m tiptoeing around a migraine.”

Ed snorted. Wow, good cover, Tex.

“Well, I hope the tiptoeing helps you avoid it completely,” Bo said.

One corner of Dallas’s mouth lifted. “You and me both, man.” Dallas lifted his head as the door opened. “Joseph Harper?”

The man’s brow furrowed, but he nodded. “Yeah. Wh-what’s going on?”

“You aren’t in any trouble. It’s okay. We’d just like to speak to you about a homicide investigation.”

“O-okay.”

Dallas laid a hand on his chest. “I’m Dallas Silver from the LAPD, and this is my partner, Bo Austen. We’ve been told you used to be friends with Robert Sawyer. Is that correct?”

“Yeah. What’d he do now?”

“I’m afraid he’s our victim.”

“Oh,” Joseph whispered. He nodded. “They carve him up?”

“What makes you ask that?”

Joseph crossed his arms over his chest and leaned his shoulder against the doorjamb.  “Rob was really, uh, into some cult shit. For a while there, before he officially joined or whatever, he tried convincing me to join with him, so I know more about it than I’d care to.”

“I can imagine. Mind telling us a bit about what you know?”

“They’re freaks. That’s what I know. They carve themselves up with symbols of strength and health so when the ‘ritual’ is complete, they can kill the youngest member and the old bastards can eat the organs they need to replace. Fucked up liver? Kill a fifteen-year-old and eat his. Lung cancer? No worries, the sixteen-year-old who just joined has perfectly healthy ones for the taking.”

And you think I’m fucked up, Ed said.

Dallas chose not to dignify him with a response. It was rare the bastard deserved one in the first place.

“Rob’s the one who told you this?” Dallas asked.

Joseph nodded. “Yeah. With less disgust, though. Fucker was, like… proud of it, even before he joined. Thought it was amazing, that it gave life purpose or some shit.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “I’ve got a fiance, a kid, and two dogs. They give my life purpose. Carving myself up so some old fucker can cut me open and eat my kidney or my heart? That’s not a purpose. It’s fucked up.”

“Can’t disagree with you there,” Dallas said quietly. “Did you ever meet any of the members of this cult?”

“No. Rob said I could only meet them if I promised I was going to join, if I swore to it. Don’t get me wrong, I considered lying to him and swearing on it, but I was afraid of what would happen if I didn’t go through with it. Figured they’d probably still kill me, just without the organ-eating since I hadn’t been through the ‘ritual’ or whatever. But, God, I wanted to meet those bastards. I wanted to meet the monsters who brainwashed my best friend, who turned him away from sports so he could never risk breaking a leg or arm. I wanted to meet the guy who turned my best friend against everyone who didn’t want to be like them.” Something in Joshua’s eyes shifted, life sparking in the previously unfocused brown of them. “That cult, they aren’t gonna go down easy, not without a fight. When Rob joined, he took his father’s gun. That was one of the, like… conditions? Requirements? Hell if I know. Point is, they’re armed, they’re dangerous, and they are not going to let anyone take their supply of young, healthy organs without one hell of a fight.”

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Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Eighteen

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Hashtags & Homicide – Chapter Five

NOT EDITED

Theodore awoke to an empty bed. He rolled onto his back and sat up with a yawn. In the bathroom, he could hear the shower running. “Monday,” he whispered. Of course. Russell had to go back to work. Theodore had time off until Wednesday morning, something he had planned ahead of time so he could spend at least some of Vera’s winter break with her for more than supper each day.

Scrubbing his hands over his face, he did his best to bite back another yawn. Though he felt well-rested, the part of his brain that liked yawns seemed to disagree. He wrapped a hand around his cane and rose to his feet.

By the fish tank, he couldn’t help but smile. He still couldn’t believe Russell had gotten him a tank or the fish to go in it. He couldn’t believe the detective had kept them for a month to get them assimilated to the tank. Christ, most days, he could hardly believe Russell existed at all. Even the days where they exchanged little more than good morning and good night texts were more than he had ever gotten from Shane.

In many ways, Russell still seemed too good to be true. Theodore did his best not to focus on that lurking feeling in the back of his mind. He did his best not to let his mind convince him that Russell was hiding something from him, but it was difficult. As far as he could tell, it always would be difficult.

But he planned to keep working at it regardless.

After feeding his fish–his little goldfish included–he rapped two knuckles against the bathroom door. “How much longer are you gonna be in there, Russ?”

“Just rinsing off now.”

“So long enough for me to change out here?” Theodore asked.

“Yep.” The water shut off. “I’m gonna dry off, but I’ll stay in here until you’re dressed.”

Theodore let out a breath, one corner of his mouth lifting. “Thanks for understanding, Russ.”

“Always a pleasure, Teddy.”

After getting dressed, Theodore gave the a-okay for Russell to come back into the room. With a towel wrapped around his waist, Russell walked over to his duffel bag on the floor. Theodore had grown relatively used to Russell’s post-shower shirtless figure, but the scar on his back was something he hadn’t noticed before.

“What’s that?”

Russell looked up at him. “What’s what?”

“The scar on your back.”

“Ah. Remember the, uh, car accident I told you about?”

“The one in high school? Yeah.”

Russell nodded. “The scar’s from the reconstructive surgery they did on my lower spine. I’ve got ones near my hips and on my legs too.”

“Jesus. Do… do they ever bother you?”

“Like, confidence-wise? Not really. They’re, umm, different than the scars you have from your surgery, y’know?”

“Yeah.” Theodore knew exactly what Russell meant. Russell knew for a fact that the kid driving up on the sidewalk specifically to hit him with his car hadn’t been his fault. Theodore, however, had always believed winding up in the hospital was his fault. If he hadn’t dated Shane, if he hadn’t married Shane, if he hadn’t responded to Shane’s drunken arguing that night. If he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have fallen down the stairs. He wouldn’t have needed a hip replacement. He wouldn’t have the scars.

Yes, he knew exactly what Russell meant.

Russell’s curled fingers beneath his chin pulled Theodore from his thoughts. “Where’d you go?”

“Thinking about my surgery scars and… why they’re different.”

“It will never be your fault.”

“Part of me knows that.”

Russell smiled that soft little smile of his, the one Theodore had only ever seen him use around him and Vera. Theodore’s heart always fluttered at the thought that maybe he and Vera were the only ones who ever got to see that calming and reassuring smile. “I can’t pretend there will come a day where every single part of you knows it wasn’t your fault, just based on how I feel after everything with my father, but I can tell you that we’re gonna work damn hard to convince as many parts as we can that it’s not your fault.”

“You’re sweet. Not that that’s anything new.” Theodore leaned up and kissed him. “Get dressed and… meet me in the kitchen to help with breakfast?”

“Gladly. Be with you in a few.”

Theodore patted Russell’s bare chest, hand lingering for just a moment. Sometimes, he wished he could do more with Russell than sleep in the same bed with him or kiss him. He figured Russell would like something more, given that the man used to sleep around with men and women in between his homicide cases at work, but Theodore couldn’t deliver.

He wasn’t sure when he’d be able to or if he’d ever be able to deliver again.

“Teddy?”

“Mm?”

“You disappeared again, got all distant-looking.” Russell brushed a thumb over his cheek. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just… thinking.”

“Wanna share?”

Theodore let out a breath, bowing his head. “It’s a little, umm… embarrassing.”

“That’s okay. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.” Gently, Russell lifted Theodore’s head again. “I’ll meet you out in the kitchen when I’ve got more than a towel preserving my dignity, okay?”

Theodore chuckled. “Okay. See you in a few.”

True to Russell’s word, he made it out to the kitchen before Theodore even finished pulling everything out of the refrigerator. “What’re we making this morning?”

“Scrambled eggs with peppers and hashbrowns.”

“Oo, an interesting turn from pancakes.”

“I want to start getting back into actual cooking again. I still want to take it easy on the hip, even though it’s much better than when we met, but… I don’t know. Actual cooking is some sense of domestic normalcy for me. The fresh peppers are a step in the right direction.”

Russell smiled. “Well, I’m all for domestic normalcy. Peppers it is.” He pressed a kiss to Theodore’s lips, reaching behind him to pull a knife from the block. “I’ve got the peppers covered, yeah?”

Theodore nodded, a small smile tugging at either corner of his mouth. “I was thinking much of the same.”

“Awesome. Let’s get this breakfast party started, huh?”

“Let’s.”

***

After Russell left for work, Theodore retreated back to the kitchen to wash dishes with a little help from Vera. She sat on the counter, taking the clean dishes from him and carefully placing them in the dish drainer.

“When do you go back to work, Daddy?”

“Wednesday.”

“And… then I stay with Grandma and Grandpa while you’re at work?” Vera asked.

“Mmhmm. Unless you have plans to stay home and clean the whole place for me or something.”

She giggled. “Maybe next Christmas break, Daddy.”

“Okay, I guess that’s reasonable. I can wait another year.”

“Are you excited to go back to work again?”

“I like being able to work, but I also like being able to spend time with you.” Theodore smiled. “I’m glad I planned ahead to make sure we’d have a couple weekdays together after Christmas. That’s enough for me right now.”

Vera nodded. “Me too.” She took a plate from Theodore, staring at it for a moment before setting it with the others. “Do you ever think about what happens when Father gets out of prison?”

Theodore stiffened, clearing his throat as he did his best to relax. “Umm… sometimes. Do you?”

“Yeah.”

“What do you think… is going to happen?”

“I don’t know. Him… coming back?”

Theodore handed the last dish to his daughter and rinsed off the washcloth. “I, umm… Before he gets out, I planned on having us move. I don’t want it to be that easy for him to find us.”

“We can do that?”

He nodded, shutting off the water. He grabbed a towel from the counter. “Of course we can. Heck, baby girl, if things keep going well, by then, we might be living with Russell.”

“Really?”

“Really,” he confirmed. He wasn’t something he allowed himself to think about often, but he knew there was truth to it. Russell wanted to settle down. He wanted a partner, a family. Theodore didn’t know how long it would take before moving in with Russell was something he was comfortable with–nor how long it would take before Russell felt it was okay to talk about–but he sure as hell hoped it didn’t take ten whole years. He was damn sure even Russell wouldn’t wait that long.

“Russell… would want to live with us?” Vera asked.

“I can’t speak for him, but I’m pretty sure Russell would be ecstatic to live with us.” Theodore smiled, reaching out to brush Vera’s hair back behind her ear. “Russell cares so much about you and me. He wants us to be safe and happy. When Shane gets out of prison, Russell will make sure absolutely nothing happens to us. I will make sure absolutely nothing happens to us. I made sure Shane never hurt you, right?”

Vera nodded. “Yeah, you kept me safe.”

“And I always will.”

Vera smiled. “Okay, Daddy.” She jumped off the counter. “We can go play on the Xbox?”

It never ceased to amaze Theodore how quickly Vera could switch between topics, regardless of how scary or serious one was in comparison to the other. “Yeah, sweetheart. We can go play on the Xbox. Let me change back into comfier clothes while you pick a game?”

“Okay. You’ll be okay?”

A smile tugged at one corner of his mouth. “I’ll be fine, sweetheart. My hip’s a lot better, remember?”

Though her eyes shifted to his cane, she nodded. “I remember. I’ll be in the living room.”

“All right, baby girl. I’ll catch up in a few.”

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Chapter Four

Chapter Six

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Hashtags & Homicide – Chapter Four

**A/N: Unrelated to this book, but just got back from the vet’s a bit ago and can confirm Roxie DOES NOT have the kidney failure her symptoms led us to fear she did. It’s nice to finally be able to breathe again**

NOT EDITED

“Where’d you put them?” Theodore asked the exact moment he stepped foot into his house.

Russell chuckled, reaching back to close the door. “They’re in your room.” He kicked off his shoes as Theodore sat down to take off his own. Russell took Vera’s coat and hung it up on the hook on the wall. “If you don’t like one of the fish, let me know, okay? I’ll take it so you can just have the ones you genuinely want. They’re a Christmas present, so I want you to like all of them.”

Theodore lifted his head, a smile on his face. Russell couldn’t help but smile right back at him. He loved every damn smile that tugged at Theodore’s lips. It was the simplest and most obvious sign that Theodore was comfortable and safe. “Russell, you bought me fish. I don’t care if they’re a bunch of Barbs or an Angelfish. I already love ‘em.”

“Fingers crossed.” Russell grabbed Theodore’s hand, helping him to his feet. Vera walked out of the foyer first, more than happy to lead the way to the tank of surprise fish. She stood on her tiptoes to turn on the light and rushed over to the tank.

“Holy shit,” Theodore whispered. “Is that a fifty-five gallon?”

“Yeah. Best I could tell from the pictures, your old one was, too. It fit pretty well on the table here, so… figured I guessed correctly.”

“You did. I-I can’t believe you got a fifty-five for me.” Theodore pressed a hand to the glass as he sank down to Vera’s height, free hand still held in Russell’s. “Mollies, Guppies, Platies…” Theodore shook his head. “Russell, these are amazing.”

Russell squatted down beside him, pressing a kiss to Theodore’s temple. “I wanted to do what I could to match at least some of the ones you used to have. I figured that was the easiest way to know you’d be happy with them.”

“Happy? Russ, I’m ecstatic.”

That, Russell knew was true. He could see it shining in Theodore’s eyes, a nearly childlike excitement that pulled at either corner of his mouth and blushed his cheeks. “I-I’m glad to hear that. Glad to see it, too.” Russell rubbed a hand up and down Theodore’s spine, smiling as Theodore dropped his head to his shoulder. “What do you think, Vera? How’d I do?”

Vera grinned. “You did really good, Russell.” She tapped a finger to the glass. “Lots… and lots of fishies. You did good.”

***

After watching a movie, Russell carried Vera to bed and tucked her in while Theodore took a shower. Now, after checking the locks on the doors, Russell headed back to Theodore’s room and climbed into the bed. It wasn’t long before Theodore came out of the bathroom, checked on the fish, and slid under the covers.

“I can’t even begin to tell you how much those fish mean to me, Russell. Thank you.”

“My pleasure.” Russell rolled onto his side, wrapping an arm around him. “They’ve been in my office for, like, a month to assimilate them to the tank and stuff. I was so worried I’d forget to lock that door and you’d get adventurous, look around.”

“I don’t like snooping. I’ve been, uh… warned against it.”

Russell pressed a kiss to Theodore’s shoulder. “For what it’s worth, you can snoop in my house all you want. I sure as hell won’t be mad.”

“I know you wouldn’t. Most of me knows, anyway. But I think no snooping is still, like… a positive quality.”

“Yeah, I’d have to agree there. I’ve dated people that have gone through my phone and shit the moment I leave the room. It’s not like I keep anything shifty on there or like I’m texting other cute boys, but I just enjoy my privacy on my own phone. You know?”

Theodore nodded. “I don’t blame you there. I like mine too. It’s been one of those things I got back after Shane was, umm… arrested. It’s been nice to have that privacy again.”

“I can imagine so, Teddy.” Russell closed his eyes. “Unrelated, but, uh, I’d like you to meet my sister and my niece sometime. I want you to meet my brother and my mom eventually, but for obvious reasons, my sister and my niece are less… scary for, umm, everyone involved.”

“I would love to meet your sister and niece.”

“Yeah?”

Russell felt Theodore nod. “I’m assuming they’re not against us dating?”

“No. My niece has been really excited to see the cute bookstore cashier I’m dating ever since we, uh, started.”

Theodore laughed. “Did you tell her I was cute?”

“Duh. I would’ve been lying if I said anything different.”

“You’re sweet.” Theodore laid a hand over Russell’s, threading their fingers together. “Do you know how you want me to meet them?”

“I was thinking we could host a little supper or something. We could do it at my place so it’s somewhere familiar to you but so that no one else finds out your address. I’ll obviously take care of most of the cooking, with some hand-holding from you, of course.”

“You know me too well.”

Russell nuzzled Theodore’s neck with his nose. “I know you just well enough, Teddy. Helps me not accidentally overstep boundaries, too.”

“I know. I love it.” With a little grunt, Theodore rolled onto his bad hip and laid a hand on Russell’s cheek. “I’d love to help you make supper sometime for a little get-together at your place. Vera gets to be there?”

“One hundred percent. I want that little girl in my life just as long as I want you in it, Theo.”

Theodore smiled before pressing a kiss to Russell’s lips. He pulled away, eyes still closed. “You don’t know how much it means to me that you care about her, Russell.”

“I’ve got a pretty good idea.” Russell leaned his forehead against Theodore’s. “She’s part you, Teddy. How the hell could I go around without caring about someone that’s part you?”

Theodore sniffled, but he didn’t respond.

“Sorry,” Russell whispered.

“Don’t be. I just… Christ.” Theodore opened his eyes, pulling away to wipe at his cheek. “I-I hate that I don’t feel worthy of this.”

“I know.” Russell laid a tentative hand on Theodore’s cheek. When he didn’t pull away or brush his hand off, Russell wiped a tear away with the pad of his thumb. “Theo, I wasn’t even abused by a spouse or a significant other, and I still have days where I feel like I don’t deserve any of the good things you say to me or good things you do for me. And it sucks. We don’t wanna feel this way. We don’t wanna be this way. But… but someone tore us down and picked apart the pieces of our brains that know we deserve love and care and respect, a-and it can take… a real long time to find those pieces and put ‘em back together.”

Theodore let out a little laugh, closing his eyes as another tear raced toward Russell’s hand. “We’re supposed to be sleeping, not crying.”

“Ah, my life mantra for over a decade.”

Theodore laughed again. “I don’t know what I’d do without you right now,” he whispered.

“You’d continue healing. Just… without me.” Russell cleared his throat. “But for what it’s worth, I’m glad I’m here for it.”

“Me too.” Theodore kissed him again, soft and sweet. “Hold me?”

“Gladly.”

A smile on his face, Theodore rolled back onto his good hip. Russell scooted closer, wrapping a protective arm around the shorter man. “Night, Russell.”

Russell smiled against his shoulder. “Night, Teddy.”

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Chapter Three

Chapter Five

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Christmas Cannibal – Chapter One

NOT EDITED

Sunday: December 5, 2021

“Daddy!”

Miguel Pareja’s eyes shot open at the high-pitched squeal of his son’s voice. Before he could even push himself off the couch, the toddler sprinted into the room and jumped up with him. Miguel grunted, laying a hand on the back of the boy’s head as he buried his face in the blanket half-draped over Miguel’s chest. “Mijo, what’s wrong?”

The boy lifted his head, his blue-flecked hazel eyes filled to the brim with tears. “Pere Fouettard is gonna kidnap me a-and all my friends and kill us to sell with the pork!”

Miguel was almost certain he’d heard that wrong. “Pere who now?”

“Fouettard! Father Whipper!”

“Mijo, I don’t know…” Miguel cleared his throat, looking down at his watch. “Buddy, it’s three in the morning. I think you had a bad dream. A… a really bad dream. But I promise you, Daddy’s right here. I’m gonna keep you safe from this Father…?”

“Whipper!” Eliseo exclaimed.

“Right. I won’t let this Father Whipper hurt you or your friends. No one’s taking you anywhere.” Lightly, Miguel tapped a fist against the boy’s cheek. “You’re my little boy, mijo. You’re safe with me.”

Eliseo sniffled, rubbing his eye with the heel of his palm. “Felt too real to be a bad dream, Daddy.”

“They usually do, bud. That’s part of what makes them so bad.” Miguel sat up on the couch and hugged the boy to his chest. “I’m sorry you were so scared, mijo. Bad dreams are never any fun.”

Eliseo nodded. “Can I sleep out here with you?”

“I think the couch is too small for both of us. How about I set up a sleeping bag in your room, huh? Like a little sleepover of our own.”

A smile came to the boy’s face as he sniffled. “Sleepover sounds fun.”

Miguel pushed himself to his feet and moved Eliseo over to his hip. The boy wrapped a hand around the front of his shirt, head falling to his shoulder. Miguel closed his eyes for a moment before turning to press a kiss to the top of the boy’s head. Things had been difficult the last six months, when Miguel’s ex-wife passed away and he was given full custody of their son. Eliseo had been riddled with nightmares nearly every night, and Miguel spent most of his work days exhausted.

Eliseo’s nightmares usually told grand tales of monsters of all kinds. Krampus, Bloody Mary, ghosts, Demons, Vampires. But this one, Father Whipper or whoever, was new. The others, well, at least Miguel had heard of those. He could always understand where Eliseo may have heard of or seen the other monsters. There had been recent movies about Krampus, ghosts, and Demons. One of the shows he watched on television focused on monsters as the main characters, though in their world, ‘monsters’ were the normal thing to be.

But Father Whipper was new, and Miguel had no damn idea where that had come from to haunt his son’s nightmares. Maybe he’d check that monster show Eliseo liked, just to see if they had added a villain with a far too disturbing backstory and motive.

Miguel grabbed the rolled up sleeping bag from inside the coffee table ottoman and carried Eliseo back to his bedroom. Six months ago, it had been the master bedroom, which he always gave to Eliseo when he visited on weekends. Now Miguel had retreated to sleeping in the living room full time until he could find and afford a place with two bedrooms.

His neck and back hoped he could find a place far sooner than later.

Miguel set Eliseo on his bed and unrolled the sleeping bag on the floor. “All right, mijo. Do you need anything before we get tucked back in?”

Eliseo shook his head. “Mm-mm. Feel safe now.”

Miguel smiled. “I’m glad to hear that, bud. I’ll always keep you safe.”

“I know, Daddy. You put away the bad guys.”

“I do. Always will. Especially if they’re after you.” Miguel kissed the boy’s head and tucked him back into bed. “I love you, mijo.”

“Love you, Daddy.”

Miguel smoothed a hand over the boy’s dark hair. Eliseo was one of the only good things that had come of his marriage, and it killed him inside that he was unable to take away his bad dreams. He’d move mountains for the boy if he had to, but he couldn’t stop the nightmares. It was a kind of hell all on its own.

He laid down in his sleeping bag and closed his eyes, but sleep never came. Unfortunately, that was usually the case after one of Eliseo’s nightmares. No three-year-old deserved to be haunted by images of some ‘Father Whipper’ murdering and butchering him and his friends. The very idea that his son had seen something so horrific in his sleep made Miguel’s stomach twist and flip a million different ways.

But there was simply nothing he could do about it.

***

According to Miguel’s watch, it was just after six when his phone rang. With a groan, he rolled onto his stomach and crawled out of the sleeping bag. In an awkwardly light jog, he made his way to the living room. He grabbed his phone, accepted the call, and pressed it to his ear. “Pareja.”

“Hey, Miguel. Was worried you weren’t gonna answer.”

“Yeah, sorry. I was halfway across the house.” Miguel cleared his throat. “What’ve you got?”

“You’re our last detective on call today. Already tried everyone else.”

“No answer?”

“No, I… I got an answer. Just, uh… No one’s been able to handle the scene just yet.”

Miguel scrubbed his free hand over his face. “What kinda scene are we looking at?”

“A dead three-year-old. Looks like he’s been butchered. It’s a tough fuckin’ scene, Miguel. I understand if you don’t wanna do it either.”

Miguel’s heart skipped a beat. “I, umm… Let me call my babysitter and grab a shower. Text me the address.”

“Will do, Miguel. Good luck.”

Miguel ended the call, free hand covering his mouth. A three-year-old dead and butchered. It was just a coincidence. It had to be.

A/N: I still need to come up with a description for this one, so the ‘back to book details’ currently doesn’t have a link, but I’ll get to it as soon as I can!

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Chapter Two

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