I had never seen myself as a rancher growing up. I had spent time with my aunt and uncle, and I’d ridden their horses. My siblings and I played in their lake and fed their goats. But I never imagined myself taking over one day. I suppose I hadn’t thought further than the military. The military had always been my goal. I wanted to have a purpose, to do good, and serve my country. Instead, I left disillusioned and full of hate.
Looking at the clock, I saw that my alarm would be going off in about 30 minutes. There was no sense in attempting to go back to sleep. Instead, I stood up from the edge of the mattress and reached over for a pair of sweatpants. After sliding them on, I headed outside, knowing where I’d find Ry.
I slid open the glass door and stepped out onto the patio that overlooked the backyard. There, surrounded by a tall metal gate and fence made of twisted black iron, was the swimming pool that my aunt had begged my uncle for about ten years ago to replace the above ground one that they’d had since I could remember. My uncle had grumbled about the expense and the work it would take to build the giant pool my aunt dreamed of, but he never hesitated to give her what she wanted. That woman had been his life. Whenever he heard about something she wanted that saw in town, he made sure to get it for her.
I watched the figure gliding through the pool, his strong arms slicing through the water, propelling himself forward. He’d likely already done at least twenty laps in an attempt to outrun the nightmares. Ry was a beautiful man. Tall, slender, muscular. Strength was hidden underneath his slim build.
I met Ryu Nakamura in basic training. At first, we had just been friends. The more time we spent together, the more the feelings grew between us. After we graduated, we moved on to AIT. To our surprise and delight, our advanced individualtraining led us both to the same place again. At the time, I hadn’t been with anybody, male or female. There hadn’t been anyone from my hometown whom I was attracted to or respected enough to want that type of relationship. Ry had already had a couple of girlfriends and had even had a boyfriend once that he kept hidden from his family, knowing that they wouldn’t approve.
When we’d graduated from AIT, I agreed to be there for him so he could finally explain to his family that he was bisexual. By that time, we were in a serious relationship, and he wanted to break the news to them that he was in love with a man. When they first opened the door to us, they had assumed that I was just a friend. Once we sat down in their formal living room and began to explain our relationship, it all devolved from there.
Ryu’s mother began crying hysterically, but his father got violently angry. Any attempt I made to diffuse the situation was met with even more anger. When his father laid his hands on Ryu, I drew the line. I would never stand up to his parents out of respect, but I had no such problems after he had punched my boyfriend. I grabbed Mr. Nakamura by the collar and jerked him off his feet, holding him until we were face-to-face.
“You will never lay a hand on your son again,” I snarled into his face that was red from anger and was slowly turning purple from loss of oxygen. “You’re supposed to love them and protect your children, not treat them like this. And for what?” I demanded. “Because of who he loves?”
Even then, his father had twisted his face in disgust at my words and spat in my face. As I let the saliva roll down my cheek, I let him see the darkness that lived in my soul, the darkness that had always been there. I leaned in and spoke softly so only he could hear. With deadly intent, I said, “This is the last time,” I promised. Louder, I said, “You don’t deserve him, either of you.” I glanced at his mom, who was still standing there with tearsrunning down her face and her hands twisted in worry for her husband, but not for her son.
Ry was already sporting a bruise and a swollen jaw. “Neither one of you,” I reiterated. “We’re done here.” I tossed the smaller man to the ground, not even watching to see as he fell and crumbled onto the floor. I grabbed Ry’s hands and linked our fingers together, and pulled him towards the door with me. We both ignored the threats that rang out behind us. Then his father had declared loudly that Ryu was no longer his son and wasn’t welcome in his home.
I stopped at the doorway and glanced back. I saw Ry look at his mother, waiting for her, for any indication that she would support him instead of his dad, but she remained silent. With tears misting his eyes, he shook his head once, looked down at the floor, and then glanced back up at his parents.
“All right, Mr. and Mrs. Nakamura,” he said softly. “I won’t bother you anymore.” And with those parting words, he closed the door behind us. We stepped out onto the porch together, our hands linked. I was proud of him as I watched Ry square his shoulders and lift his chin.
After that, I took him to my home, where we were greeted in a completely opposite way. I had already told him about my two dads and my mother, but I didn’t think that he quite understood until we sat there together in my parents’ living room. As my mother cried happy tears at seeing that I’d finally found someone who could break down my walls, my dad, Ethan, held her hand. My dad, Brent, had his arm around both of them, holding them together as one unit. There was no denying the love that they all felt for each other and the cohesiveness of their relationship.
Growing up, never once had I ever seen any type of jealousy between the three of them. If my dads spent time alone together, my mother was happy for them, just as they were happy for eachother when they each spent bonding time alone with my mother. There were always the three of them. They would always come back together as one unit and never had any worry that that unit could be broken. A part of me had always wanted that, though I could never see myself finding another person who fit me as well as Ry did.
I opened the pool gate, stepped through, and walked to the edge of the pool. I stood there, staring out over the water, and admired his lithe body, lit up by the underwater lighting. He was swimming naked as he usually did. Just watching the muscles in his back ripple with every stroke of his arms had my cock hardening in my sweats.
It had been a good five minutes that I stood there silently watching, before he slowed, then came to the edge of the pool where I was waiting. “Hey,” he said, swiping back his dripping hair from his eyes. He folded his arms against the edge of the pool and lay his head on them. His face was turned so he could stare up at me. The smirk I loved crossed his lips as he took in the state of my cock. His gaze met mine. “You okay, babe?”
I grunted then squatted, bringing myself closer to the only man who’d ever broken through my walls and managed to sear himself onto my heart. “Yeah, same old shit.” I reached out and swiped the water droplets from his bottom lip. “What about you? How long have you been out here?”
Ry stuck his tongue out and used it to pull my thumb between his plush lips. Drawing deep, he sucked hard, making my breath catch. Once he was satisfied that I was suitably affected, he let go. “I don’t know, long enough for a few laps.” He shrugged.
I snorted and shook my head. “A few. Right.” I stood up and held out my hand. He took it without hesitation, letting me help him out of the warm water. Once he was standing in front of me, I yanked him against my chest. Feeling his hardness rubbingagainst my own had my blood heating. Lowering my mouth to his, I breathed against his lips. “Let’s go take a shower.”
Ry leaned in the last fraction of distance and bit my bottom lip, then let his tongue soothe the small sting. “Only if you wash my… back.” His hand found mine as I chuckled, and I allowed him to pull me through the pool gates and back into the house.
Chapter 2
Parker - 9 years later
Ihad the file open on my desk. The papers were no longer crisp after having been touched, turned, and studied countless times over the years. I read through the report that I could have recited from memory, always searching for something, anything that I might have missed. Something that could help me finally bring my sister’s killer to justice.
I paused before flipping the current page over, the same as I always did. I needed to bolster my courage before I could face what I knew, what I dreaded, and craved with the same breath. Gritting my teeth, I slowly turned the page. I had to blink several times to hold back the moisture that always cropped up. That wasn’t my body’s only reaction. Anyone observant enough would notice how tense I was. How emotional. I had to force my fingers to relax one by one. I quietly practiced the breathing exercises that my therapist had taught me and felt my heart rate slow from the thundering pace inside my aching chest.
I brought my finger up and touched the corner of the photo. Mariposa’s smile beamed up at me from the case file I had made from official reports, adding to it over the short time I had beenin the FBI. The moment I gained access to criminal reports, I had printed off my sister’s. It hadn’t been closed as a cold case yet. The status of the murder had been a hot case from the very beginning. Most serial murder cases were like that. Until the killer was caught, those cases stayed open. As such, Mariposa’s murder was still an ongoing investigation even though it had been nine years. Unfortunately, very little had been added in the last few years.
After the night my family’s world became irrevocably torn to shreds, all three of us had spiraled into despair. My parents, while lost in their own grief, had forgotten they still had a living child. They spent most of their time hating each other, blaming one another for their loss. Neither one had sought any professional help to deal with their pain. Instead, they held it in and consequently, allowed it to destroy not only their marriage, but also our parent-child relationship.
I had thought our house had been tense when Mariposa first disappeared. It had felt as if the very walls were holding their breath as we waited for answers. But after we got the answers that we had suspected were coming but dreaded hearing, the house became a silent tomb. Mom and Dad stopped speaking to each other unless it was to scream accusations. Mom had fallen into a bottle of wine to cope and rarely came up for air. Dad had locked himself away in his office, throwing himself into his work as an accountant, numbers becoming the only thing he cared about.
I became numb, only feeling the smallest spark of life inside my soul when I felt pain.
My school work began to suffer almost immediately. I barely passed the tenth grade, and that was only because the year was just about over anyway. Had there been much time left in the semester, there would have been no way I could have moved on to the next grade.
I started eleventh grade the same way I had ended tenth, with minimal effort, if any. My teachers were sympathetic, but it didn’t take long for their frustration at my lack of caring to settle in. If it wasn’t for Mrs. Caroline Baker, I probably would have spiraled to the point that I just dropped out. I still call her every once in a while just to talk. I shared my accomplishments and goals with her. I owed everything I was today to that woman. If she hadn’t taken me aside and forced me to look at my future, I would have ended up on the very path she’d warned me I was headed down.
