Malicious Intent (Soulscape #5)

CH 30

Zeke was walking up from the lake when the bronco pulled up and parked. Dennis and Frank sat silently inside the rig, watching the young man. After climbing out of the water, he had slipped into his t-shirt... and nothing else. The thin fabric clung to his wet skin, the hem hanging barely low enough to cover his crotch. Not that it helped much—as the white shirt turned translucent against his drenched body.

Sliding a hand slowly through his wet strands, Zeke glanced at the bronco as the two older men climbed out, his dark eyes smoldering with want. A small smile quirked his lips and he walked on by and up the porch steps, the back of his shirt plastered to his lovely ass cheeks, which were only half covered as it was.

Dennis swallowed a whimper and fought the need to trail the boy inside.

Frank's stare followed Zeke, heat in his eyes... but something else as well. Frank hadn't said much on the drive home and there was no need to guess why. Since the encounter with Leroy Croix, Frank's anxiety kicked up. After the issues with Randall, it was understandable that Frank might become hypervigilant if another threat arose. And now, apparently, Dean was running his mouth to the bikers. God only knew what all he'd told Leroy. Dennis considered having a sheriff-to-deputy talk with him, but he had nothing concrete for which to reprimand him.

It was pure speculation that Dean and Gary were the men in the woods.

Apart from Leroy admitting that Dean had told him about Frank and Zeke—Dennis had nothing there, either. He couldn't know for certain what Dean had said to the kid.

He couldn't come down on Dean over a gut feeling. Things had to be done by the book. And until he saw or heard incriminating evidence against the deputy himself—or an eyewitness came forward—his hands were tied. Dennis didn't like that, because Bradley Dean knew all of this as well and would take care not to incriminate himself to the sheriff. Not until Randall died, did Dennis begin to understand that Dean might be a dangerous wild card.

The two men walked up on the porch and Frank went inside. Ron glanced after him, then asked in a low voice, "Did you tell Frank what you told me?"

Dennis nodded and rested against the rail. "I did."

"What did he say? Did he give you an explanation?"

"No." Dennis quietly cleared his throat. "I could see he was uncomfortable talking about it, so I told him he didn't have to tell me until he was ready."

Ron looked disappointed... and anxious.

"I won't lie," Dennis said. "I'm curious. But I won't pressure him."

"No, I get it." Ron sighed, sliding his hand back and forth across his mouth, his gaze drifting off toward the lake as a distinct furrow pinched his brow.

Dennis forced himself not to question the man about why this was so important to him. Ron had known Frank a hell of a lot longer than Dennis and possessed greater insight into matters concerning Frank. And what Dennis had relayed to the warden clearly caused him stress and anxiety.

And that, in turn, made Dennis a bit edgy. Regardless, he would keep his word and allow Frank to decide when to speak about it.

• • •

"Was I right?" Alec stood at the end of the bed, his back to the door, and peeled off the damp t-shirt.

Frank watched him from the doorway. "Yes."

"What did you tell him?" Alec turned around, fully nude, and sat on the bed. He leaned back on his arms and gazed at Frank invitingly.

Frank stepped into the room and closed the door. "Nothing. He didn't ask me to explain." He approached the young man and Alec sat forward, running his palms up Frank's thighs.