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“This time, I’m with the hottest kid in school,” I whispered back. “Not sure I’d have been able to stay in the closet much longer after being alone with you back then.”

Kev’s cheeks reddened. “You wouldn’t have looked twice at me.”

“You’re right.” Kev’s smile began to fade until I pressed his glasses up his nose with my pointer finger and let my rapidly hardening cock ride against his thigh. “I would have looked three, four, five, twelve times. And then I would have touched.”

As I spoke, Kev’s face reddened even more, and his eyes went wide behind those glasses. Champ’s voice hissed in my ears. “Initiating distraction sequence.”

Kev muttered under his breath about uselessly formal language. “Why can’t he just say, ‘Let’s go,’ or something?”

“Darling, I told you Jeremy isn’t in this school building!” Riggs exclaimed in a loud, worried voice from the corridor on the other side of the door. “His friend said he was being held captive in a room in the basement of the… what was it called? The big Johnson building!”

Kev snorted, and I shot him a wink. “Pretty sure it’s just called the Johnson building,” I admitted. “But Riggs has been living in the Thicket for a few months now. The puns become a way of life after a while.”

“For God’s sake, stop whining,” Champ demanded in the voice of a man who had no patience for his partner’s whining, let alone his puns. “Did you take your supplements this morning, Benedict? You know how cranky you get when you’re undernourished.”

Riggs gasped. “Percival, how could you?”

If Riggs’s use of a pun hadn’t been enough to get under Champ’s skin, using his hated first name was a sure way to do it. Score one for Riggs. Their fight would turn extra authentic now.

“What did you just call me?” Champ growled.

Riggs let out a high-pitched shriek. “Oh, stop, Percy! You know how that mean face you make scares me! Our precious baby boy is being held in a dungeon somewhere on this godforsaken campus, and you are lecturing me about using my pet name for you? Focus, dearest. Jezzy needs us!”

I heard the rapid footsteps of several people coming out of school rooms along the hallway. Muffled voices demanded to know what was going on, and Riggs did us proud.

“What’s going on? What’s going on? I demand answers!” he raged in a mournful voice, as if someone was pulling out his hair one follicle at a time. “I demand action! That’s what’s going on! Someone, find me my baby! You there, in the polo! Find me my Jeremy! I can feel in my very bones that he’s not well. Jeremy!” he shouted. “Jezzy, baby, call for Daddy! Daddy will come find you!”

Kev was laughing so hard tears were streaming down his face. I had to reach out to cover his mouth to keep him quiet.

Champ joined the verbal fray in his even louder voice. “Jeremy? Bang the walls if you can hear us. Bang once to tell us you’re hurt and twice if you’re alright. Bang for us, son!”

Kev’s eyes were so alive I wanted to pull my hand away from his mouth and kiss him stupid. Instead, I leaned in and pressed a hard kiss to his temple before pulling back and keying my microphone to Jordan. “Status.”

“Thirty seconds…”

I keyed the mic to Champ. “Give us another minute and a half,” I said.

Champ’s voice boomed through the thin door of the storage closet. “Get your hands off me, sir! I will not be treated in this manner. I want to see my son. You cannot keep him from me. Why are you all standing around in this useless manner? Where is Jeremy! We pay thousands of dollars to send our son here, and I will not be silenced!”

Muffled teacher voices talked over each other with questions and assurances while Riggs wailed in the background. “He’s gone! Gone forever! Probably dead by now! They said he was being held in a room with another boy, but now he’s been murdered by the school, just like in that episode of The FBI Files!” He paused. “Or was it Blood, Lies & Alibis?”

“I think it was Cold Case Files,” Champ said thoughtfully. “Blood, Lies, and Alibis had that episode about the Poughkeepsie killer, and you got so upset you wouldn’t rest until we liberated your mother from her retirement community, remember?”

“I think you might be right,” Riggs agreed. Then, after another pause, “But either way, dead! Our boy has been murdered!” he sobbed. “Oh God. How will we go on?”

Kev shook silently, tears streaming down his face as he giggled madly against my palm.

Jordan’s voice came over comms. “Clear.”

A new voice came on the scene, louder and more outraged than Riggs’s. “I’m Principal Halloran. What is your son’s name, sir?” he demanded.

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