C21 Box Set

Chapter 1-3

It wasn’t until Dylan got back to his apartment that the true impact of what he’d done hit him. Until then he’d been running on adrenaline—and fear, if he was going to be honest with himself.

He had worked hard to get where he was at the hotel—assistant-manager with the expectation of being promoted to full manager when his boss retired in another year. If Tommy had followed through with his threat, Dylan would have been out on his ear. He knew he was taking chances when he invited a willing guest up to the room. A room the hotel kept vacant for emergencies—such as when a regular guest decided to show up without making a reservation first, with a woman who wasn’t his wife by his side.

Dylan had begun using the room during the last few weeks before breaking up with Tommy, and had continued afterward. It was, in his opinion, a better option than meeting some stranger at a club to take home with him. At least the hotel guests who frequented its bar were ones he could check up on first, since he had access to their information on the hotel’s computers.

Throwing his jacket on one of the chairs in the living room, Dylan headed to the bedroom, stripped, and went to take a shower. All the while, the only thing he could think of was how he’d killed Tommy. It had been pure accident, nothing more. He was not a vicious man. Far from it. But when Tommy had threatened him, his immediate reaction was to try to stop him before he carried through with it—by proving he wasn’t the wimp Tommy thought he was. He knew Tommy well enough to know arguing or pleading with him would be useless. Tommy had been stubborn if nothing else. What he wanted, he did his best to get—one way or another. Dylan was certain his leaving Tommy had been a blow to his ex’s ego on many levels.

I guess I don’t have to worry about it anymore. He smiled morosely, stepping under the shower, the water so hot it burned. That was what he needed right now—something to take his mind off what he’d done and maybe help him relax, if that was possible.

“Damn it, Tommy…Why did you make me kill you? Why didn’t you walk away when you saw me in the bar?” He often talked to himself. It helped him make sense of things by hearing them said out loud. Now, listening to his words he added, “Why the hell didn’t I say no when he asked me to go home with him? Not that it would have done any good.” He frowned when a thought occurred to him. Why did he wait until then to try to blackmail me? He knows…knew where I live, and where I work.

“I suppose I’ll never get an answer to that question,” he muttered. He stood under the water until it began to cool, then washed quickly, got out and after drying off, went to get ready for the day. It was Sunday, one of his days off, so he put on jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt before starting to clean house and gather up laundry. He realized as he worked that he was waiting for the buzzer announcing the police were here to talk with him.

I wonder how long before someone finds his body? Maybe not until after he doesn’t show up for work tomorrow?

His gut clenched as guilt inched its way into his conscience. I could have done something else. Agreed to do what he wanted then…Then searched for where he stashed the negatives. I should have. But I was scared. Not an excuse and I know it. God, what have I done? He dropped down on the sofa, burying his face in his hands as a wave of anguish washed over him. “I thought I loved you once, Tommy,” he whispered. “Before…Before everything changed. Before you decided you had the right to rule my life.”

Dylan knew he was trying to excuse what he’d done. Still, it was the truth. Tommy had wanted to control every aspect of Dylan’s life that didn’t involve his job. He’d have tried that too, if he could have figured out how to. Like a fool, I let him, at first. Until I caught on to what was happening.

“Even now he’s in control. I let my emotions override my common sense. It only took a moment of fear and anger and…”

He breathed deeply, trying to regain some composure. I have to act as if nothing happened. I have to be convincing if…no, when the police come by to talk to me. I have to be shocked, dismayed, upset, and I need to make it believable. He got up, muttering to himself, “And I need to do the damned laundry. Thank God I didn’t beat him to death.” He smiled dryly. “And doubly thank God I’m a bottom, not a top. At least I didn’t leave that kind of evidence behind since I flushed the condom. Although I suppose it wouldn’t matter. If they figure out I was there, and with my luck they will, how we screwed will be the least of their worries.”

Going back into the bedroom, he finished collecting his dirty clothes and went down the hall to the laundry room to finish the last of his Sunday chores.