He circled the Culbreth in search of a parking place, annoyed by every moment that delayed him further. It had been a stressful day, and he longed for home. He longed for Colin. He longed for the peace and happiness that enveloped him within those sturdy walls, wrapped in Colin’s embrace.
On the far side of the theater, seeing nothing else available, he pulled into the Culbreth Road Parking Garage and maneuvered his Accord into a space. He climbed out of his car, then leaned back in to grab Nate’s jacket before closing the door.
He left the garage and crossed Culbreth Road, then began to walk down the sidewalk leading to the theater’s entrance. The outer wall of the theater was unadorned by windows. Streetlights were sparse, and several were burned out. Turning, he peered down the sidewalk. It was nearly full dark. The streetlights cast an irregular glow over the empty stretch of concrete before of him, and for a moment Joshua found the image unsettling. The lights seemed to beckon, urging him toward a dark and sinister destination. He shivered and moved down the sidewalk, thinking as he did how happy he’d be when he arrived at home.
* * *
Colin– 6:15 p.m.
Colin turned off the lights and locked the door behind him. He was the last attorney to leave the office. All the others had disappeared at the stroke of five like air leaving a balloon. He rather enjoyed being alone in the Commonwealth’s Attorney’s office. There was a musty, bookish smell that permeated the area where the attorneys worked. The scent of something that Colin associated with service and dedication. The people who worked there weren’t perfect, but each and every one of them was committed to serving justice.
He glanced at his watch as he strode to the parking lot, and his brows drew together in a scowl. His last contact with Joshua was the text saying he’d gotten a last-minute patient and would be late getting home. Colin climbed into his car, muttering. “I’ll call him after I get home.”
For a moment he considered stopping by the clinic to check on him, then dismissed this notion as a bad idea. He was with a patient, and Colin’s interruption might disrupt the therapy session. It was after the clinic’s scheduled hours, and he hoped that Joshua had remembered to lock the building’s main entrance. Thoughts of Dale Alensworth haunted his mind, making him uneasy anytime Joshua’s work hours stretched into the evening when darkness had begun to fall.
It was six thirty-two by the time he arrived at their home on the Rivanna river. He pulled into the driveway and sat for a moment, staring. The house was dark, and the sight of its black windows gave Colin a chill. Under normal circumstances the house windows would be aglow with light, and Joshua, who usually arrived home ahead of Colin, would be busy making dinner.
Colin sighed and mentally kicked himself in the ass.Stop your goddamned whining!he thought as he moved up the porch steps and into the living room.He’s hardly ever late and he’s a doctor! He can’t ignore a patient.
He blew out a breath as he walked through the living room, turning on lights as he went, then he glanced at his watch again. “Damn!” He quickly called Joshua’s cell phone but got no answer. On a whim he also called Josh’s office phone which instantly went to voicemail. He smiled and stood for a moment listening to his husband’s calm, relaxed voice: “This is Doctor Joshua Campbell-Abrams. I’m sorry I can’t get to the phone right now, but leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible. If it’s an emergency, call 911”
Colin scoffed out a self-disgusted breath. “God, I’m hopeless sap,” he muttered. He removed his suit jacket and tossed it over a dining room chair, then wandered to the couch and stretched out.He’s still with his patient,he thought.I hope it’s nothing too serious.He felt himself drifting toward sleep but it had been a long, tiring day so he made no attempt to stay awake.He’ll wake me when he gets home.
* * *
Joshua - 6:50 p.m.
It began as a smell. A whiff of something not quite dead, but not quite living. Then came the shuffling sound, as if a starved and ravenous animal had skulked closer, hunting him, stalking him. He heard his breath hitch in fear and felt an electric tremor of shocked realization shudder through his body, halting him in his tracks.This is real!
Before he could react further, he was blind and suffocating from the scent of leather. And though his conscious mind had yet to fully grasp what was happening to him, his instincts struck out. The full weight of his body forced an elbow back into the ribs of whatever beast had attacked him from behind and he heard it grunt in pain.
Now, through the odor of the leather garment being forced over his head, he caught the sickly-sweet scent of decay. Of mold, urine, and human sweat. The odor stung his eyes and he gagged, while at the same time a voice screamed in his head, sudden and jarring, a shotgun blast in his mind. The voice was Colin’s and the word he screamed wasFIGHT!
An electric shock of adrenaline gushed through his veins, and he reached back with both hands to claw at his captor’s face, using the surge of energy to empower his attack. “Let me GO!” he called out, digging his fingernails deep into the flesh beneath his fingers. He heard the man cry out in pain and Joshua dug in even deeper. “HELP!” he shouted, yelling at the top of his lungs, hoping against hope that there would be someone—anyone —to hear his frenzied cries. He grabbed his attacker’s hair with one hand, yanking and pulling, continuing to call for help as loudly as he could.
But his abductor was strong. Fingers fisted in Joshua’s long hair grabbing it through the leather covering which had been forced over his head. Grunting with exertion, his attacker yanked, dragging Joshua backwards. At the same time an explosion of pain hit Joshua’s face. He stumbled to one side as his captor dragged him backwards with one hand and pounded on his face with the other. Barely conscious, Joshua staggered and began to sink to the ground.
“HELP!” Joshua cried again, but his voice had grown weaker. Again and again, the fisted hand crashed down onto his face. Joshua fought with all his strength, gouging and flailing, struggling to free himself, the only noise the sound of harsh, labored breathing.
Joshua struck out with an elbow and his captor grunted in pain. He heard a whoosh of sound and felt something hard and unyielding slam the ridge of his jaw. Stunned, he collapsed in a twisted heap onto a rocky hard surface feeling white-hot pain erupt in his arm and knee. He tasted blood, and felt himself sliding toward oblivion.
For another moment he struggled against the blackness falling like a shroud over his mind, then something hard as a sledgehammer smashed his ribcage, taking his breath in yet another explosion of pain. “Colin,” he choked out, sure at this moment that he would never see his husband again. “Colin, I love—”and he slid into unconsciousness.
* * *
Colin– 7:33 p.m.
Colin snapped to full wakefulness and shot a quick glance at his watch. He frowned when he saw that it was after seven-thirty. “Josh!” he called, though he already knew from the empty feeling in his gut that Joshua wasn’t there. He sat up and grabbed his phone but got no answer on either Joshua’s cell or his office phone. “Now that’s weird,” Colin muttered. He felt a slow, sick fear tighten in the center of his chest like a clenched fist. “I don’t like this!”
He tried both of Joshua’s phones again and hissed out a frustrated breath when there was no answer. “I’m going down there,” he muttered, surging to his feet. “I don’t care if he’s with a patient or not. I have to know he’s OK.”
He grabbed his keys and trotted to his car, feeling fear expand with every step he took. This kind of behavior was the exact opposite of Joshua. He wouldneverbe out this late without reaching out to him. Never.
“Something’swrong,” he ground out through clenched teeth. He could hear his voice grow tight with fear, and his heart hammered against his chest. He bolted to his car and climbed inside. After pulling out of their driveway, he punched the accelerator to the floor, sending his Mazda hurtling down the gravel road at fifty miles per hour, then sixty. “Josh,” he whispered, staring ahead into the dark night. “Baby, what’s happened! My God, Josh, whereareyou?”
* * *
Joshua– 6:55 p.m.
