A Friend in the Dark - Gregory Ashe Page 0,73

whitish-yellow illumination over the city soon, and it’d be the start of a new day.

Another day.

It always came.

Without fail.

It always came because Rufus had never been able to get over the idea of some poor SOB getting called to Rufus’s self-made crime scene, their night being fucked after having to shovel his blood and guts off the pavement, only to be left unclaimed with the city medical examiner’s office, stuffed into a pine box, and buried with a number instead of a name on Hart Island.

Rufus O’Callaghan didn’t have anything in life but his name.

So he wasn’t going to allow himself to take that one last shred of dignity away. Rooftops were still tempting—hadn’t stopped being tempting. The city twinkling from far away, beautiful like a siren’s song, and the asphalt below the rocks his ship crashed into.

He turned his head on the pillow and studied Sam, still asleep, which frankly surprised Rufus. He had screwed up so hard last night. They’d gone on a real—ok, sort of real—date. And had amazing sex afterward, during which the only sensible thought Rufus had managed to compose was This must be what it’s like to be a prince. Then he obliterated everything built up between them by telling Sam that thing. In retrospect, it probably wasn’t the worst truth locked away in his Pandora’s box, but it sure as fuck was up there in the rankings.

It’d been enough to scare Sam. And that had scared Rufus.

Only this time, Rufus hadn’t cried alone. Sam had stayed with him, held him, kissed him.

Rufus dragged his finger along the mattress, tracing Sam’s body without actually touching him. He was a big guy, a strong guy, a handsome guy.

When Rufus was in sixth grade, he’d gone on a field trip to the Met. His mother had actually paid the fee and everything. It was Rufus’s first time in a museum, and he’d talked nonstop about the experience for at least a week. He still remembered what it had been like to stand in front of a massive statue of Hercules—naked and youthful, holding the pelt of a lion. All those hard planes and muscles. Most definitely the son of a god. That statue had made it all click for Rufus, even at a young age. Sam reminded him of that experience. Sam was the breathing embodiment of powerful, raw masculinity that’d awakened after being entombed in marble for centuries.

What had Aristophanes written in one of his plays? The Clouds, Rufus thought? A glistening chest, broad shoulders, mighty bottom, and a tiny prong. Well, minus the small dick—Rufus never could quite understand the Greek’s preoccupation with that particular aspect—Sam was a study in the ideal male form.

But it wasn’t only the physical that Rufus liked about him.

He trusted Sam like he’d never trusted anyone in his entire life… even Jake. He told Sam secrets he thought he’d take to the grave. And he didn’t think twice about turning his back to Sam, because Rufus knew, instinctively, Sam wouldn’t cut him or cross him—he would only catch him.

Rufus liked Sam’s presence. He felt drunk on it. Sam had those little smiles that made Rufus’s heart rate speed up, dry wit and limited patience that made him laugh, and a softer, more trusting side that made Rufus feel needed again. And it meant something that Sam was comfortable touching Rufus, when he couldn’t bear being physical with anyone else.

Rufus kissed Sam’s shoulder, rolled to the edge of the mattress, found his burner in the back pocket of his jeans on the floor he’d dragged upstairs the night before, and got comfortable again as he began typing in the web browser. He’d been awake for a few hours, and in between the self-studies of his own inadequacy and general trauma, Rufus had been thinking hard on what that pickup had been.

The last thing Jake had given him was Chinese takeout and a tongue-lashing for what he had deemed a dangerous decision on Rufus’s part to get a job done, but it’d put a real piece of shit behind bars and Rufus had been no worse for wear, so he’d shrugged Jake off. And prior, Jake had bought him that book from the Strand.

Rufus remembered the title, of course. 1001 Buildings to See Before You Die. It’d been on the bargain rack for three bucks. Maybe Jake bought it for him because he sensed Rufus needed… a reason. Maybe because he knew Rufus would never get an opportunity to leave the