Page 55 of Point of Contact

Without any hesitation Riley flung himself off the top of the large plastic “rock” into Trevor’s arms. Trevor swung him around, covering his chubby little cheeks with kisses.

“See? Daddy caught you. Daddy will always catch you.”

An image came unbidden, of a bullet slamming into vulnerable flesh, blood gushing—legs collapsing, a body hitting the dirt.

“I didn’t catch you, Riles,” Trevor moaned. “Oh, God, I didn’t catch you.”

Trevor slid down the wall. Inside the restaurant he could hear applause as someone took the microphone at the lectern. Hot tears overflowed, snot ran. Trevor wiped it all on his suit sleeve, pressing his fist to his mouth to try and hold back the sobs.

As he pulled his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, his phone fell from his pocket and hit the ground with a clatter. Trevor scrabbled for it, opening his contacts and stabbing his trembling finger on the newest entry, listening to the hollow ring.

* * *

Yeah, baby. I am gonna score tonight.

Jesse looked around the room with satisfaction. Table set, steaks marinating and ready for the grill, wine chosen. He wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans, walking over to glance into the bedroom. Clean sheets on the bed, condoms and lube within easy reach...check.

Everything was ready, and now all he needed was for his date to arrive.

Date. Jesse raked one hand through his hair, feeling like he was going to jump out of his skin with nerves and anticipation. He actually had a date.

Brandon was a dark-haired, green-eyed hottie who’d been hanging out at Jelly’s lately, his interest in Jesse obvious. Old habits died hard, but eventually Jesse let himself respond to Brandon’s flirtation, which led to a couple of stolen kisses in the club’s bathroom. He’d finished his shift that night with a huge grin on his face, enduring some gentle ribbing from coworkers who enjoyed busting his balls, but other than that, no one batted an eyelash over it. They had their own lives to live; no one cared what he did.

What an amazing feeling.

Eventually he’d worked up the nerve to ask Brandon to dinner, and they’d celebrated his acceptance with more hot kisses and furtive hand jobs in the front seat of Jesse’s truck during his break. Meshing their schedules took some time, but finally date night had arrived. Steaks, salad and wine, and then the main event. Jesse looked at his watch. Half-hour to go.

As he headed back into the kitchen, intending to open the wine and let it breathe, his phone buzzed from the coffee table. He snatched it up, frowning at the unfamiliar number. Tempted to let it go to voice mail, he finally hit the Talk button, answering with a wary hello.

“J—Jesse?”

“Yeah. Who’s this?”

“It’s Trevor.”

Jesse’s adrenaline spiked. “Trevor? What’s wrong?”

“Can you come pick me up? Please, Jesse.” Trevor’s voice was raw, and he sounded congested. “Please.”

Thoughts of Brandon and bed forgotten, Jesse said swiftly, “Of course. Where are you?”

“Cheyenne Mountain Zoo.”

What?

“On my way. Twenty minutes tops.”

They hung up, and Jesse grabbed his hoodie, dialing Brandon’s number as he hurried to the parking lot, hoping to catch him before he left.

Fifteen minutes later Jesse pulled up to the entrance to the zoo. A man slumped on a bench just outside the main gate. He powered down the passenger window. “Trevor?” he called, and the man rose.

Jesse caught his breath. Trevor was dressed in a blue suit, tie askew, his hair mussed like he’d been dragging his hands through it. When he pulled the passenger door open and the dome light flashed over his face, Jesse could see swollen, red eyes and tear tracks on his cheeks.

What the hell happened?

Jesse didn’t ask any questions, just gunned the accelerator and got Trevor out of there. He concentrated on the twists and turns of the hilly descent into the Broadmoor area, and when the road leveled out, Jesse glanced at Trevor, who sat quietly, his hands clenched together in his lap.

“Do you want me to take you home—” Jesse began, breaking off when Trevor gave an emphatic shake of his head.