Jackson’s stomach sours. He was so not expecting this reaction. He takes in a breath, recovers. Continues. “She was on top of—and having sex with—another man. Alexander Andersen, to be exact.”
“That son of a bitch!” Ethan nearly yells, his amber eyes savage, searching. He bites the back of his hand, apparently deep in thought. “You certain about this? Like a hundred percent sure?”
Jackson gulps. Takes the gun off safety, goes in for the kill. “Yes. Absolutely, no doubt.”
As Ethan reels, so does Jackson. The man had all but told him that his marriage is a husk, a shell. Loveless. And Jackson remembers how frantic Ethan was the other night with him, shedding clothes, lips all over each other. So he’s slightly dumbfounded by the way Ethan is acting, like he gives a shit about his marriage.
“I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news.” The words trickle out of him because he can’t stand this silence, pregnant with fury, for one second longer. “But I thought, ya know,” he says, grinning. He doesn’t mean to, but it just happens as he slips into his daydream of their future together. “I thought this might mean—” He gropes for Ethan, who slaps his hand away.
Jackson flinches. Inside and out. He feels like his heart has been speared.What the fuck is going on?
“Hey,” he says, calmly as possible, “I thought—”
“You thoughtwhat?” Ethan spits at him. “That I wanted my marriage to end? That what happened between us was anything other than being fuck buddies?”
Tears prick Jackson’s eyes. But he shakes his head, whisking them away. “Yeah, well, I thought you really liked me. I thought your marriage was, like, on ice. I thought we could be together, like really—”
“Well, you thoughtwrong.” Ethan’s eyes surf with rage now. Blind, visceral rage.
But Jackson still can’t accept this. Heknowshow it felt being with Ethan. How in sync they were, how hungry their bodies were for each other. Not to mention how much they have in common with their paths, their interests. No, Ethan is just being a coward.
“Look, I get it. It’s scary to be out. I was scared even in a big city like Dallas, and I’m not even saying—or suggesting—that webeout, but I know you have feelings for me, Ethan. I know what I feel with you is real. And you can’t deny it.”
The moon sifts through the trees, spangling Ethan’s face with strained light. His jaw muscles tense, untense, as if he’s working over a problem in his brain. Well, of course he is.
Jackson’s breath is suspended in his throat as he awaits Ethan’s response. He still has the urge to lean into him, to kiss him again. But he suppresses it. Waits.
When he finally speaks, Ethan’s voice is like a circular saw in Jackson’s ear. Loud. Erratic. Biting through wood. “If you ever tell anybody, and I meananyone, what happened between us, Iwillkillyou.” Spit dangles from Ethan’s lips, and his index finger shakes as he waves it in Jackson’s face.
Jackson feels like Ethan just sawed him open. Disemboweled his guts. Ripped out his heart. “But—”
Just uttering that one word prompts Ethan to put both his palms up, to shove Jackson with such force that he falls backward into the creek.
“What the fuck, man? You didn’t have to—” His lower back seizes with pain, but other than that, he’s fine. Except for his mangled feelings, that is. Oh, and he’s now soaking wet.
“You tell a soul,” Ethan warns, now swaying over him, “and you’re dead meat.”
Later
I can’t take my eyes off the body. And yet I can’t turn away.
But I have to.
I have to figure this out, clean this mess up.
If it doesn’t sink, if I can’tgetit to sink, then as soon as the sun comes up, someone will see it.
I need help.
Like right fucking now.
I stagger through the gravel parking lot, almost twisting my ankle in the process. I’m limping a bit, heading through the gravel to go find the only person I can trust to help me get out of this nightmare.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Part 3
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