Page 8 of Grave Danger

CHAPTER THREE

The next morning, Cody awoke irritable and edgy after a restless night. Every time he’d been about to drift off to sleep, a flash of memory had burst inside his mind and he’d relive the mayor stepping in front of his truck all over again. Feel the initial impact and the thump-thump of the tires running him over. After jerking awake, he’d laid there panting, heart pounding and skin prickling as a wave of adrenaline flooded his system.

With maybe three hours of sleep, he lay on his back staring up at the ceiling. Well, maybe it was more like glaring. The morning light filtering in through the mini blinds looked gray and dismal, a perfect complement to his mood. Demmy was in the kitchen, making eggs and bacon from the smells coming down the hall, and Cody’s stomach rumbled in anticipation. But he wasn’t yet ready to get up and converse with anyone. Not even Demmy.

It had to have been the mayor he’d hit the night before. He’d talked with the mayor often in the past year about animal control. And those conversations inevitably turned to that awful, bloody night the werewolves had run rampant through town, the night he’d almost lost Demmy for a second time. Hell, last night, Cody had even recognized the fucking tie the guy had been wearing as the one the mayor had been dressed in for his open casket service a week ago. It had to have been the mayor.

“What the fuck?” Cody whispered, rolling onto his side and scrunching the pillow up beneath his head. Saying the words helped him feel more grounded, so he said it again. “What the fuck?”

The change in position added pressure to his bladder, and he pressed his face into the pillow, fighting the need as he breathed in the light almond scent of Demmy’s shampoo and the fresh smell of the body wash they both used. It was no use. As a matter of fact, things had escalated. With a groan, he got up, pulled on the T-shirt and boxers he’d shucked the night before, and headed for the bathroom.

He left the light off to avoid being visually assaulted by the overwhelming pink and closed the door. When he’d finished and washed his hands, he walked down the short hall to the living room and dropped onto the couch. The TV was on but muted, tuned to the Today show where Al Roker was talking about weather all over the country. From the looks of it, they were due for a few days of rain. Perfect.

“Hi there.”

Cody looked to the archway leading into the dining room where Demmy leaned in the opening. He wore a T-shirt and some kind of superhero boxers. His arms were crossed and his hair stuck up on the one side, like usual. He looked more amazing than anyone else in the world, man or woman, and a brief sense of disassociation gave Cody a touch of vertigo. How had all of this happened? How had he gotten so lucky?

“Hi,” Cody croaked in reply. The sound of his voice reminded him of the sounds made by the mayor the night before, and he shivered.

“How’d you sleep?”

Clearing his throat helped his voice. “Like crap.”

Demmy sat in the recliner across from the couch, butt on the edge of the cushion and hands between his knees. “How are you feeling about last night?”

“Freaked. Angry. Scared. But, you know, going with it.”

“You still feel sure that it was… him?”

Images flashed through Cody’s mind, still shots of the action, and he felt a little sick. It was like looking at photos on his phone the day after the worst party ever, when all his vague fears became reality.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Even more so now. He was wearing the same fucking tie they buried him in.”

Demmy made a face. “That awful red power tie?”

“That’s the one.”

Demmy flopped back in the chair and let out a heavy breath. “What the fuck?”

“That’s been my mantra through this whole zen retreat.”

“Zero stars,” Demmy said, standing up. “Worst zen retreat ever. Do not recommend.”

That got a laugh. God, he loved Demmy. Through all this crazy shit, he at least had Demmy with him.

“Come on and eat breakfast,” Demmy said, turning away. “Then we’ll get to work.”

Cody stood and crossed the room in three long strides. He grabbed Demmy’s upper arm and pulled him around and into a hug. Cody was always amazed by how well they fit together, even with their height difference. Or maybe because of it, who knew? Either way it was, they worked, and he often kicked himself for not coming to his senses and realizing what was between them years earlier.

“I love you,” Cody said, tightening his arms just a little bit more. “You know that, right?”

Demmy gripped him in return, one arm low and around Cody’s waist, the other up higher to place his hand on a shoulder blade.

“I know it. I love you, too.”

Demmy’s breath was hot and damp against Cody’s chest, making him think of hot, sweaty sex. But other things needed to be done, so Cody loosened his grip and allowed Demmy to take a step back. Cool air rushed in to fill the void left in Demmy’s wake, giving him goosebumps.

“Do I smell eggs and bacon?” Cody said.