Part 1


The clock in Justin’s silver BMW turned quickly and read 3:30 a.m. as he parked his vehicle in the drive. He was just returning home from a murder scene, the killer he was profiling had struck once again. The phone call had come in around 11:30 p.m. the night before. He remembered the anguished look on JC’s face even though the older man told him he understood.

After Justin hung the phone back in its carriage, he crawled painstakingly out of bed to begin the tedious search for appropriate clothing, but before he could make it completely off, JC grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him back toward him whispering into Justin’s ear, “Don’t go. Just ignore them. I need you here. You’re never here.”

“Baby, I’ve gotta go. It’s my job. The killer is still out there and we’ve only have some idea who he is and what he is like. Once I determine his profile they won’t really need me anymore.” He reached his hand forward cupping the brunette’s cheek. His azure eyes searched steel blue, while his thumb softly stroked full lips.

JC placed his hand on top of Justin’s and leaned into it, shutting his eyes. “Come, back to me, baby. Don’t die.”

“Oh baby. You know I will. Nothing will stop me from coming back to you.”

“I know,” his eyes fluttered open, “I just… just can’t help but think something bad is gonna happen.”

“It won’t. I promise. Everything will be all right. Trust me.” As Justin finished his sentence he leaned forward and tenderly licked JC’s lips, waiting for permission. The brunette gratefully accepted and Justin pulled his lover into a passion filled kiss. Justin slowly moved back and away from JC, “I’ve gotta go. I’ll be back soon, okay.”

JC still had his eyes closed from the soulful kiss, wishing desperately for the blonde’s lips to return. He unhurriedly moved his hand off of Justin’s and trailed his slender fingers over his moist mouth. “Okay,” he whimpered.

Those were the last word spoken between the two before Justin left their house and hurried to the scene nearly twenty-eight hours ago.

Now, however, he was back and looking forward to curling up within the warm and comforting embrace of his lover.

As the young detective strolled up the walk toward the large carved door of their townhouse, Justin’s mind wandered to what he would find once inside. He would see JC lying naked on his stomach in the middle of their king size bed, sparsely covered by beige silk sheets. His knee would have a soft casual bend, foot almost touching his other leg. The lover’s lean muscular back would be exposed, captured only by the moonlight that penetrated the room. JC’s angelic face would be nestled in the feather plush pillow; lips sweetly parted, with one arm resting on top of the pillow, the other snuggled underneath it. Justin’s body was reacting just thinking about the scene his mind conjured up.

When Justin reached for the doorknob a familiar sensation rippled through his body. His mind progressively began distorting the pleasant and arousing images into something more horrifying.

As the visions were becoming more and more disorienting, the young blond placed a trembling hand hard at his temple. No not now, he thought, not another victim already He cautiously opened the front door. A wave of violent images assailed Justin as he walked inside their home. The faces in the vision were blurred, but the scenario was identical to the rest of the victims. He slowly made his way toward the staircase. As he was about to take the first step a recognizable face reared itself into his head. JC? he thought. “Oh, God, no.”

The abnormal feeling began spreading through him like an undying plague, indicating the victim was just taken and could potentially be still alive. He shook his head attempting to stifle and rid himself of the images, but to no avail. The blond silently prayed that JC was in the room and sound asleep and not the next victim. As he placed his foot on the first step and his hand on the banister his head snapped up looking directly up the stairs, eyes shocked and mouth wide. The images running through his head were now clear.

“JC,” he whispered. Eyes tearing, he rushed up the carpeted stairs; hoping frantically that he isn’t to late. Justin repeated JC’s name with each step, gradually getting louder and louder until he reached the top. Everything now seemed slower as he turned his head and then his entire body, facing in the direction of their bedroom door. He noticed right away that the door was slightly ajar. As long as he and JC have shared the same bed, he has never known JC to leave the door open. His body tensed up, fear radiating off of him. He quickly navigated the narrow hallway. The closer he was to the door the stronger the vision. Justin could feel a faint breeze caress his skin, confirming the situation, something was definitely wrong, something terrible; JC never left the balcony door open. Justin pushed through the door and stopped dead in his tracks. The tears now flowed freely from his azure eyes as his gaze took in the room.

The moon-shadowed room was empty; JC was gone. Justin lifted his weary gaze and tried his best to repress his tears. He shook his head over and over disbelieving the scene before him. The bed coverings were disheveled, partly on the floor and partly on the bed. The lamp on the nightstand nearest the bed was tipped over and in many different pieces. The alarm clock was lying on the ground sideways revealing the approximate time of the struggle. The face of the alarm clock was blinking numbers that were nearly an hour off. Only an hour ago JC was taken and hope filled the crying man’s heart. Until his eyes viewed the wall above the bed, he fell to his knees almost sobbing. There, written in crimson, was a message to him. He, who laughs last, laughs best. He’s next.

“Noooo…. no. Not my baby. Please…. no…” hands rushed his face as he cradled his head into them pulling desperately at his blond curls. He blinked trying to compose himself for what he needed to accomplish next. He needed to investigate the area, but if he did that without the police and the other detectives there, would he disrupt the evidence and potentially loose JC forever. This isn’t happening he thought. This can’t be happening to us. Justin sat down in the middle of the room, took three deep breaths and reached into his coat pocket pulling out his cell phone. He determined his best course of action was calling his co-workers and getting them out here and on the scene. Shaking hands and trembling fingers dialed the emergency number he needed. He waited impatiently for the dispatcher to answer.

“Hello, is this an emergency,” the nasally voice asked.

“He’s…he’s… he’s ga…ga..gone.”

“Sir, who’s gone.”

“J…J..JC.”

“Who’s JC?”

“Mmmmy boyfriend.”

“Are you sure this is an emergency? Or is this some sort of lover’s quarrel.”

“Wh…what? No…some…someone has him. We need to find him fast. He’s next, he’s next.”

“Sir, you need to calm down. I don’t understand what the problem is here. What do you mean he’s next?”

“La…look I don’t don’t have time for this,” Justin was calming down slightly as he became more and more angry with the operator. “Who is this?”

“Mister, I don’t think you knowing my name is important nor is it gonna help you. You know that it’s against federal law to prank an emergency number.”

“Damn it. Where’s Britney? I want to talk to dispatch. Get me Britney.”

“Look…”

“I’m Detective Timberlake. Now get me Britney.”

“Oh I’m sorry sir. I didn’t recognize your voice.”

“I don’t give a shi…. just get me Britney.”

“Transferring.” The phone went silent for only a brief moment before a soft almost southern voice came acrossed it.

“Hey, sweetie what to you need?”

“Britney, thank god. Look I need you to send a squad out to my place. Something…something has happened to JC. I think that son of a bitch has him. Britney I can’t lose him. Tell the squad to get out here as soon as possible. I….I don’t think he’s been gone long.”

“Oh no. I’ll call one right away for you. I’ll also call Detective Fatone and Kirkpatrick for you. I’m sure they’ll wanna help.”

“Thanks Britney,” he sniffed. The harsh dial tone was resounding in Justin’s ear indicating the call was finished and it would only be a matter of time before the squad car and his friends arrived. He stood up and slowly backed up until he felt the solid surface of the wall come in contact with his back. He slid down the wall, pulling his knees against his chest. He threw the phone across the room and wept.



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