Chapter One

Flipping through channels on the flat screen television, Detective Sergeant Kevin Bryson stretched out on his back on the motel bed and tried to get comfortable. James Tucker, his best friend, former partner and probably the love of his life had stopped answering his cell phone, and no one had heard from him in over three weeks.

It had been a long drive the day before from the Gulf coast of Florida to North Carolina, and once he arrived, he’d spent some time going from place to place in the small town of Sylva, even though it was early evening, asking questions in a few of the shops still open and in the small cafés, just like he’d done all day today. He went anywhere he could think of, really, that might get him results. The local sheriff’s department had been his first stop that morning, of course. They looked at his credentials and were polite enough, but claimed never to have heard of any cult operating in the area. When Kevin admitted Tucker left Florida willingly, they told him there was nothing they could do.

Everyone in town, as a matter of fact, claimed never to have heard of any kind of cult, religious or otherwise. They also claimed never to have heard of a former detective from Florida named James Tucker or his lover, a man Kevin knew only as Gavin—but then, he hadn’t really expected to get information so quickly. He was really only hoping to stir things up and get a lead.

Using cell phone records, he’d tracked Tucker to this general area, but that was as close as he could get. If Tucker had fallen victim to a dangerous cult, like Kevin thought he had, he believed there would be other cult members in the area, whether they were willing to admit it or not. If he asked enough questions, nosed around enough, he might be able to attract the attention of the group. He was hoping the cult members would come looking for him and save him further trouble.

He sat up on the side of the bed and stretched. He’d spent the morning in town and most of the afternoon searching on the internet for various churches or religious groups in the area. It was late afternoon now, and he needed to figure something out for dinner.

Levering himself off the bed, he stretched again. Damn, his back was a little stiff from the long drive. At the ripe old age of thirty-four, he shouldn’t have this many aches and pains, should he? Maybe if he actually did more cardio like his trainer told him to when he worked out at his gym, he might be in better shape. Up to this point, he’d been mainly interested in shaping his body and sculpting his muscles so he usually concentrated on the weights. Tucker used to laugh at him and say at least he’d look pretty when he wound up in the hospital with a heart attack someday. Tucker, himself, was a runner.

Tucker—Kevin felt the familiar twinge in his chest that he always got when he thought of him lately. He’d been in love with Tucker for so long, it seemed like a part of him by now. Tucker had never wanted to be involved romantically, claiming it was because they worked together, and saying it would ruin things if a relationship between them went wrong. So Kevin had reluctantly accepted the status quo and remained Tucker’s partner and eventually became his best friend. Of course, he was still in love with Tucker, and always would be. That went without saying. And he wouldn’t forsake him now, if there was any chance this crazy group was holding him against his will. He wanted to talk to him and see for himself, and he wouldn’t be satisfied with anything less.

There had been almost no word from Tucker since he left Florida to travel to Tennessee almost a month before with a man he barely knew, this Gavin. The guy was from somewhere in the state, close to the border of North Carolina, and Tucker said he wanted to go with Gavin to explore his newly discovered family home. Gavin had told Tucker that he was taken from the area as a baby by his grandparents, and his real father was still alive and looking for him. The fact that Tucker was given no proof of any of this, and that he’d been hiding out from Gavin just a few days before, somehow no longer seemed to matter to Tucker, no matter what Kevin tried to tell him. Tucker had told Kevin he suspected Gavin was the leader of some kind of cult. What could have happened to change his mind so radically?

To make things even worse, they’d been right in the middle of a murder investigation, and the chief was so furious when he discovered Tucker’s absence and his refusal to return, he’d fired Tucker on the spot, a not surprising reaction. As it turned out, the man was a homophobic asshole anyway. Tucker had long suspected that about him, and he kept his orientation secret within the department. When Tucker left the way he had, word had inevitably gotten out about him.

At Kevin’s persistent urging, the chief had sent some investigators to check into the situation, and they questioned people at the Nightstick, a bar Tucker frequented, and at the hotel where Gavin had been staying. It hadn’t taken him long to discover Tucker and Gavin were lovers. At that point, the chief closed the investigation, saying Tucker had ‘gone off with his fag boyfriend.’

He’d called Bryson in his office to tell him he was no longer looking into the situation. “I guess he fooled us all with his homo lifestyle, huh? Let him go. Good riddance. And leave it alone, Bryson, or we’ll start to wonder about you too. End of story.”

It wasn’t the end of the fucking story for Kevin. For him, it was only the beginning. The assholes he worked with could wonder about him all they wanted to. If Tucker was in trouble, he wouldn’t turn his back on him to save himself.

Since the day Tucker left with Gavin, Kevin had only heard from him once. He’d called to tell Kevin he was about to go through with some kind of commitment ceremony with the guy, and that he would be staying in Tennessee. Nothing Kevin could say would talk him out of it, and Tucker had actually hung up on Kevin while he was still pleading with him, saying he’d be in touch. That was the last time he’d heard from him, and Kevin was worried sick.

A loud knock on the door startled him for a second. He moved to the door cautiously. It was probably only hotel staff, but this whole thing had made him jumpy. The people in the small town were friendly enough, until he started asking questions. Way too many of them had clammed up after that, and acted, not exactly with hostility, but like he’d definitely worn out his welcome.

Another loud, insistent knock sounded on the door, and he went over to the peephole. Who could be calling so late? He’d learned a long time ago it paid to be careful until he knew exactly what he was dealing with.

At first, Kevin couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Tucker stood in front of the door, his head slightly lowered as he waited, fidgeting a little. Behind him stood a big, dark-haired man Kevin had never seen before. As Kevin watched, this man leaned across Tucker and took hold of the door knob, shaking it impatiently.

Kevin took an involuntary step back. What the hell? Part of him wanted to rip the door open and enfold Tucker in his arms, but another part of him was alarmed. Who was this big guy with Tucker? At the first sight of him, Kevin’s heart had started racing.

Tucker called out, “Bryson, open the door. It’s me, Tucker.”

Kevin’s heart leaped again at the sound of his voice. Whoever the other man was, Kevin didn’t like the look of him. He wished he had his gun on him, but it was all the way across the room and from the way the door was shaking, it wouldn’t last long enough for him to retrieve it. Taking a deep breath, he flung the door open, tensed and jumped back, ready for whatever was about to come through it. Instead of the trouble he was expecting, Tucker stood in the doorway, looking like he always did, a big smile on his handsome face. Relief surged through Kevin, so strongly it made his legs a little weak.

Tucker’s eyes darted nervously around the room as he stepped over the threshold, though. The man, who had been standing protectively behind him, a little too close in Kevin’s opinion, came in with him. This guy was definitely not Gavin. Kevin had seen Gavin a couple of times behind the yellow crime scene tapes in Florida, while investigating the murders which remained unsolved. The last time Kevin had talked to Tucker he’d implied that the case was solved and no longer an issue, though when he’d pressed him for details, pleading with him to think this thing over and come back home for a while, he’d hung up on him. Indeed, there had been no more murders in the area, and the consensus was the perpetrator had been a transient and had moved on.

This was another reason to be wary of the guy who came in with Tucker. The muscular guy was no one he’d ever seen, but the expression on his face told Kevin he wasn’t exactly pleased to meet him. His eyes were scanning the room, as if to discover someone else hidden away, or some as yet unseen threat to them both.

Tucker met Kevin’s gaze and gave him a big smile, as he stepped all the way inside the room. He walked right up to Kevin and into his arms, surprising him. Tucker had never been physically affectionate with him before. Kevin held him close for probably too long, just breathing in his sweet scent with relief and reveling in the feel of the hard body against his. The big guy who had walked in behind him made a noise deep in his throat that sounded suspiciously like a growl, and Kevin reluctantly let Tucker go. Kevin cast a glance at the other man, wondering who the hell he was and what claim he seemed to feel he had on Tucker.

“It’s good to see you, Bryson,” Tucker said, taking a step backward, his cheeks turning pink. “I…uh…got word you were looking for me.”

Kevin couldn’t prevent himself from touching him again, and reached for his arm to draw him over to the bed to sit down. “You got word, huh? But how did you know where to find me? God, I’ve been worried about you, Tucker. You said you’d call, but I haven’t heard anything in weeks. You can’t just disappear like that, man. Your apartment…your car…everything’s waiting for you to come back home. I paid the rent on the apartment for you last month.”

A definite growl came from the throat of the big man hovering near them this time, and Kevin looked up at him in exasperation. He stood between them and the door, like he thought Kevin might snatch Tucker up and make a run for it. Not a bad idea at that…

“I’m so sorry you had to do that, Bryson. I’ll pay you back, of course. And I am home,” Tucker was saying firmly. “I thought you understood I live here now. I’m sorry I haven’t gotten in touch sooner.” He waved one of his hands in that slightly old-fashioned, elegant way of his that should have looked feminine, but didn’t. “I don’t need any of the things I left behind, Bry. In the apartment, I mean. I’ll ask Gavin to send someone to pick up the car though and pay off the lease.” He brushed his dark hair off his forehead. Kevin watched him closely, trying to discern any kind of hidden message he might be trying to send him, and observing him for any changes in his demeanor.

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