Cooper

Just as Jenny leaves to return to the newspaper office to wait for more news, our server brings us our breakfasts. We eat in silence, monitoring the temperature of the room. We’re still getting plenty of odd looks, if not downright hostile stares, but no one else approaches us.

Sam’s awfully quiet, and I don’t blame him. Just as I feared, Stevens focused his ire on Sam, thinking that was the quickest way to get under my skin. Stevens was right.

After we finish eating, Jake settles our bill, and we all head out to the SUV, which is parked a block away from the diner. There’s a handwritten note tucked underneath one of the windshield wiper blades. Jake retrieves it, reads it, then hands it to me.

I’m going to fucking kill you. You should have stayed gone.

Just as I’m about to shove the note into my pocket, Sam grabs it and reads it.

 “Any idea who wrote it?” Jake says, as he unlocks the vehicle doors with the key fob.

“I’m pretty sure I can guess,” I say, taking the note back from Mr. Hot Head and sticking it in my pocket. We might need it for evidence.

I open the rear door and motion for Sam to get in the vehicle. When I join him in the back seat, he gives me a pleased smile. He wouldn’t be so happy, though, if he knew I was seriously thinking about sending him home on a commercial flight. I don’t mind risking my own neck to get justice for Cody, but I sure as hell mind risking his.

I know Sam can take care of himself. He’s a former Army Ranger, for God’s sake. Yes, he’s coming off some pretty serious injuries, but he’s still capable. He’s not Superman, though. He’s not invincible, especially if his opponent is armed and dangerous, which we have to assume that Billy Monroe is. Probably Roger Stevens, too. I’m honestly not sure which one of them is worse—Billy or Roger. Maybe Roger, because the alcohol adds a degree of unpredictability. Roger’s always been an angry drunk, even back in school. But Billy…he’s a snake in the grass.

“Where to?” Jake asks, catching my gaze in the rear-view mirror.

I’m tempted to tell him to take us back to the motel, where we can hunker down and wait this out. I want to know what’s going to happen now that the newspaper has run the story. There’s no statute of limitations on murder. I’m waiting for murder charges to be brought against Billy and Roger. And now, with Judd’s reported death-bed confession, the case against the other two men is bolstered.

“Let’s go to the Sweetwater River Bridge and pay our respects,” Sam says, reaching for my hand and linking our fingers. He tugs on my hand. “Come on. You need closure.”

The thought of returning to that bridge makes me sick. Two young boys were terrorized on that bridge. One of them died there. And I feel guilty for being the one who survived. Maybe Sam’s right. Maybe I do need closure.

Jake’s watching me patiently through the rearview mirror, waiting for some direction. I nod. “We might as well.”

I lay our joined hands on my thigh and look at Sam. His brown eyes are glittering, and he looks ready for a fight. He’s fearless, and that’s what worries me. He’s not invincible, no matter if he thinks he is.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Jake parks the Escalade on the shoulder of the road, just a few yards from the bridge. The three of us get out and walk the small incline onto the two-lane bridge, which spans the broad Sweetwater River. As usual, in early spring, the water is high and fast, rushing past downed trees that line the muddy banks. The river is about a hundred yards wide, and it’s a challenge to swim on a good day. When the river is swollen like this, fair to bursting at the seams, it’s a bear.

We stand at the railing in the middle of the bridge and gaze down at the churning water.

“It’s about a thirty-foot drop,” I say, watching the water rush by.

“How deep is it here?” Sam asks.

“It’s at least twenty feet deep, maybe a little more.”

My throat tightens as the memories come flooding back. I guess it’s inevitable. The last time I was here, I was facing possible death. I knew I could survive the fall, and I knew I could swim that river, but with my hands tied in front of me, it was anyone’s guess.

I knew Cody likely wouldn’t make it. I remember looking over at him, seeing his blank stare as he faced straight ahead, not looking down at the water. I don’t know where he went in his head, but he wasn’t mentally present on that bridge. I think he’d already checked out. Fear can do that to you.

I swallow against the hard knot in my throat, feeling my pulse pick up, along with my breathing. I exhale heavily, trying to rein in the panic and not start hyperventilating. I keep reminding myself I’m not a scared teenager anymore.

“Jesus, Sam! What in the hell do you think you’re doing?”

At the sound of Jake’s incredulous voice, I whip my gaze over to Sam, who’s in the process of stripping down. His boots and socks are lying on the pavement, along with his jacket and gun holster. He pulls his T-shirt over his head and tosses it to the ground.

“What the fuck are you doing, Sam?” I say, my voice sharp.

As his gaze darts to the metal railing, my stomach drops like a stone. I’m afraid I know exactly what he’s planning. “Don’t you dare.”

He lowers the zipper on his jeans and shoves them down and off, leaving him in nothing but his black boxer briefs. “Closure,” he says, heading for the railing. “You need closure.”

“Sam, no!” Panic overtakes me, bringing back hellacious memories. Oh, hell no! Not again.

 I move to intercept him before he can reach the railing, but the sudden, ear-splitting shriek of a police siren distracts me. I glance behind me to see a patrol car heading right for us, its lights flashing. Shit!

When I turn back to Sam, he’s standing on the railing, balancing like an acrobat on a four-inch wide piece of steel as he stares down at the rushing water.

He opens his arms wide and yells, “Fuck this river!”

The same two deputies we saw this morning at the diner exit their vehicle. “Freeze! Don’t you dare jump!”

Sam laughs. “Sorry, I can’t hear you!”

He flips off the cops, then leaps into the air, his arms spread wide. Mid-air, he twists to form a perfect arc as he dives toward the water. I race to the railing and look over just in time to see him curl in on himself, wrapping his arms around his knees, and hitting the water like a cannonball. He disappears beneath the dark surface of the water, and for a second, I can’t breathe. Then I shake myself out of it. “Sam!”

I reach for my left boot, intending to strip and go in after him, but Jake lays a calming hand on my shoulder, stilling me. “It’s okay.” He nods toward the opposite side of the bridge, and I race over there. We all do. And there’s Sam, twenty yards downstream, doing the breast stroke as he swims toward us, fighting against the raging current in a river that has to be cold as ice this time of year. If he doesn’t drown, he’ll surely die of hypothermia.

I shake my head, caught between fury and laughter. Laughter wins out when Sam salutes me from thirty feet below. He’s so damn full of himself, grinning like a fool. “See? It’s just a river,” he yells.

“That little prick,” I murmur, and damn if I don’t love him so much right now I can hardly stand it.

Jake laughs. “Damn. You have to admit, the guy’s got balls.”

The two deputies join us at the railing, looking over the side at Sam.

“Jesus Christ,” one of them says—Deputy Williams. He looks at me and shakes his head. “He’s crazy. Some idiot dies here every year jumping off this damn bridge.”

Sam’s teeth are chattering as he treads water, and I can tell he’s freezing his ass off. The current is strong, and he’s moving farther downstream at an alarming rate of speed.

“All right, that’s enough!” I yell, waving at him to get out of the water. I’m struggling not to laugh, because I don’t want to encourage his impetuous behavior. But God, that was pretty awesome. “Get your ass back up here!”

Jake looks amused as hell—and more than a little impressed—as he watches Sam swim to the bank. Damn. I never thought I would stand on this bridge again and laugh. And that’s why he did it. To give me something else to remember about this bridge. I’ll never forget what happened here forty years ago, but at least now I have another memory to hold onto.

I watch Sam crawl up the bank, slipping and sliding on the wet grass, and then walk up the hill to the road that leads onto the bridge.

He’s limping when he reaches us, clearly favoring his left leg, and his lips are blue. “Damn, that water’s cold,” he says, grinning at me as he shivers uncontrollably. “Why the hell didn’t you warn me?”

For a second, I just drink him in. He’s so damn fearless, I could fall on my knees. Instead, cognizant of our rapt audience, I hand Sam his clothes. “Let’s get you back to the motel to warm you up, before you catch your death.”

When Sam’s dressed, Deputy Williams hands him a slip of paper.

“What’s this?” Sam says, turning it over to read the print on the other side.

Deputy Williams grins. “It’s a ticket, you fool.” He points at a warning sign clearly posted on the bridge. “There’s a hundred dollar fine for jumping off this bridge.”

Sam laughs as he pockets the ticket. “Hell, it was worth every penny. I’d do it again, but my balls are frozen solid.”

* * *

The minute I get him back to our motel room, I march Sam straight into the bathroom and start the shower. “Take off your clothes.”

“Yes, sir,” the cocky son-of-a-bitch says, looking way too pleased with himself.

I cross my arms, trying to look stern, but what I really want to do is grab him and kiss him senseless. “You’re pretty damn proud of yourself, aren’t you?”

He nods as he yanks off his boots and socks, followed by his T-shirt. As he reaches for the fastener on his jeans, I brush his hands aside and unsnap them for him. Then I lower his zipper and tug his jeans down his long legs. I want him so badly that the need is like a knife in my gut. But first, he needs to warm up after his impromptu ice bath.

He removes his briefs and steps into the shower, groaning with pleasure when the warm water hits his ice-cold skin. I close the shower curtain partway, leaving it open just enough that I can stand there and watch him. His nipple piercings glint in the light, and his body is still flushed from the cold.

He leans his head into the spray of hot water and moans, soaking in the heat. “God this feels good. I was serious earlier, when I said my balls were frozen solid. Damn, I couldn’t even feel them.” He reaches down—the smart ass—to cup his big sac, hefting its weight. “Oh, thank God, they’re still attached.”

I laugh. “I should beat your ass for what you did. It was reckless and stupid. You could have gotten hurt.”

He looks at me, suddenly serious. “I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

“Why? What possessed you to do that?”

Sam shrugs as he grabs the bar of soap I brought and lathers up. “I imagined what you must have felt as a kid, standing on that bridge, looking over the railing. Wondering if those were your last minutes on Earth. Wondering if you were going to die. Hell, as a kid I dived from higher heights than that. I used to drive my mom insane. I jumped to show you that it’s just a river, nothing more. It’s not scary, it’s not the bogeyman. What happened to you and Cody was a heinous crime, a damn tragedy. And honestly, it’s a miracle you survived. I kept picturing you, a gawky teen with your hands tied. It gutted me, babe. So I jumped, to show that river it’s not the boss of us.”

He rinses off, and I hold out a towel for him as he steps out of the shower. I wrap it around him and draw him against me. He’s warm and damp in my arms, so strong and sturdy. The heat of him soaks into my T-shirt, and the air in the bathroom is as hot and humid as a sauna. Damn. He takes my breath away.

He also pisses me off to no end, taking a risk like that. I grip his chin and make him look at me, our faces just inches apart. “Don’t you ever take a God-damned chance like that again, do you hear me? You took ten years off my life today, and I don’t have any to waste. Not if I’m going to keep up with you.”

He grins, and I don’t think he’s taking me seriously. I am serious, though, dead serious. But right now, with him in my arms, feeling his firm, muscular body against mine, all I can think about is how much he means to me. I meet his gaze head on. “I love you, Sam.”

He swallows hard, his eyes glittering, so young and cocky and full of life. “I love you, too.”

“Come with me.” I take his hand and lead him to our bed. I’m so choked with emotion right now that I’m afraid to say anything more. I’m afraid I’ll lose it. I pull the towel away from him, leaving him standing butt naked at the foot of the bed, and I drop to my knees to worship him the best way I know how.

He gasps, gripping my shoulders hard as his fingers dig into my muscles. He throws his head back with a guttural cry when I suck his semi-hard dick into my mouth. I stroke him from base to tip, reveling in how quickly he swells in my grip. I lick the swollen, smooth head, and he mutters something completely incomprehensible, which makes me smile. A burst of pre-come hits my tongue, and I groan. His fingers continue to flex on my shoulders, alternately gripping me hard, then gently, until he finally gives up and holds onto me for dear life.

I swallow him deep, taking him all the way to the back of my throat, then smack him on his bare ass, encouraging him to move. He takes my cue and begins to thrust, slowly at first, then faster and faster until he’s fucking my mouth with a fervor and exuberance that tells me we’re both just happy to be alive.

I bring his hands to my head, encouraging him to use me as he wants. Groaning, he clutches my head and holds me in place to receive his thrusts. His cock slams into my mouth, faster and deeper with each thrust, until I’m forced to relax my throat muscles and breathe shallowly through my nose.

I slip a hand between his legs to cradle his sac and find his big balls drawn up high and tight. He’s close to shooting his load, and I want him to give it to me. When he tries to pull out, I grab his ass and hold him in my mouth. With a loud cry, he throws his head back, arching his beautiful, strong neck. His hands clutch my head in desperation as he spews his load down my throat. I swallow pulse after pulse, my tongue gently stroking the underside of his throbbing cock, coaxing him, praising him.

“Oh, Jesus,” he gasps when he finally pulls out of my mouth. “God, Cooper.”

I stand, still fully dressed, and watch him shivering naked before me. He’s still warm from his shower, and after that little workout, I don’t think he’s cold. I think he’s shaken to the core. When I see the glitter of tears forming in his eyes, I know I’m right.

“Get in bed,” I tell him, as I quickly strip off my clothes. It’s only just after noon, and we have things yet to do today, but right now I don’t give a damn. We need some quiet time together, to just hold each other.

I crawl under the blankets with him, drawing him into my arms, and he lays his head on my chest. I rub my hands along his back, down to his hips and ass. He’s boneless in my arms, still reeling from the pleasure of his climax. I can feel his heart hammering against my chest.

When he rises up and reaches for the lube on the nightstand, I stop him and pull him back down to me. “No. That was for you.”

“But you didn’t—”

“That’s okay. Right now, I just want to hold you.”

When I watched Sam jump off that bridge railing, I had flashbacks of Cody going over the edge that horrific night.

It broke my heart when Cody died.

If I lost Sam, it would destroy me.

“Just rest, baby,” I tell him, stroking his back.

My chest feels tight, like it’s being squeezed in a vise. Right now, I need a tangible reminder that Sam’s okay. When he was hit by a speeding car just a few months ago, it shook me to the core watching him lying in a hospital bed connected to a half-dozen beeping monitors.

Today, I was reminded once again that he’s not immortal, even though he sometimes thinks he is.