Malicious Intent (Soulscape #5)

CH 26

Bradley Dean woke to remnants of a disturbing dream involving Randall Scott dominating the deputy in an extremely sexually aggressive manner. That wasn't the only thing he woke up to. Sticky wetness smeared his thighs and the sheets. He threw back the soiled covering.

You had a fucking wet dream—about Randall?!

Bullshit.

Bull-fucking-shit.

That little faggot put that shit in his head about Randall—that's why he had the fucked-up dream.

"Fuck," Dean muttered and crawled out of bed. He took a shower then stripped his sheets from the bed and threw them in the washing machine. "You're gonna pay for this, you fucking queer." His smoldering thoughts conjured Zeke Matthew's face. "You think that was funny, did you? You won't be laughing when I get through with you." He slammed the washer lid and cranked the knob on the ancient machine, starting the wash cycle, then walked into the kitchen.

A weird sensation tickled the backside of his belly button, making his stomach quiver as his mind darted back to the dream.

Stop fucking thinking about it! That dream didn't come from you.

Dean wasn't a faggot—and he'd certainly never thought about fucking his best friend. It was ludicrous and fucking disgusting.

Yet, it nagged him; the dream and Zeke Matthew's insistence that he'd been jealous of not only the hitchhiker—but Benny as well! The faggot was fucked up.

He's going to be fucked up, Dean fumed, this Friday night.

He filled a travel mug with coffee, dumped in a shot of bourbon, and headed to work. It was early and his shift didn't start for another hour, but he didn't want to hang around the house... thinking about things.

Marcy had just arrived at the courthouse when Dean pulled up. She glanced his way as he climbed out of the car. "You're here early." Her comment was toneless, and she headed up the steps without waiting for him to reply.

Dean caught up to her. "Maybe I couldn't wait to see you."

"Yeah." Marcy chuffed. "I don't think so."

"Why do you say that?" He kept pace with her. "Did it ever occur to you that maybe I'm genuinely interested in you?"

Marcy laughed short. "No. Because you're not."

"How do you know?"

"Because you only go out with women for one reason."

Dean shrugged. "In the past, sure. But even a guy like me can get bit by the love bug."

"The love bug?" Marcy snorted and grabbed the handle of the entrance door, pausing to look at him. "I don't think so. I know exactly why you want to go out with me and it isn't going to happen. Why is it so difficult for guys like you to take no for an answer? Hounding a woman who doesn't want to date you won't get you any closer to that goal. In fact, it makes you all the more unappealing." She pulled open the door and entered the building.

Dean stood outside as the door closed behind her. Cunt. He thought about his conversation with Gary—and the two of them going at her at the same time. Maybe he and Gary should just show up at her house some night and invite themselves in... start a little party of their own. He'd seriously consider it if he could get Gary on board.

Of course, if Gary was that kind of friend, he'd invite him along Friday night to help take care of the faggot. But Gary was no Randall, and, despite his talk, the man may not be agreeable to rape. If he ever popped that cherry, he would never look back. But trying to convince Gary to take the plunge could result in unpleasant consequences.