His Saint (Forever Wilde 5)

“In a minute,” Stevie said, oblivious to the fact his man had been addressing the cat. “I’m here for the…” His eyes caught on the vintage gramophone that was playing Van Morrison’s “Into the Mystic.” “What’s with the loud flower?”

“That is an Edison phonograph from 1902,” I explained. Stevie looked at the big petal-shaped bell speaker with a blank stare.

“A record player, sweetheart,” Chief Paige added, slipping an arm around Stevie.

“You mean, like those old CDs? This thing plays those?”

The older man narrowed his eyes at his younger boyfriend. “You damned well know what a record player is. Don’t fuck with me. Remember what happened earlier this morning when you asked if I wanted Metamucil in my coffee?”

Stevie’s face turned bright red. “I, uh, got a spanking.”

“Damned straight you got a spanking. You want to see what happens to that pink ass when you get another one on the same day?”

Now my face turned bright red. I lectured my eyeballs not to even think about turning Saint’s way, but they disobeyed me. Saint’s gaze burned a hole into me and filled my dick in about two seconds. If Saint Wilde laid a hand on my butt, I would probably orgasm instantly. Even the idea of it was doing unsettling things to every single cell in my body.

“Ahem, well, that’s… something,” I managed to squeak out. “But no. This thing plays vinyl records which were the de facto format for playing music for over eighty years. Then there were eight-track tapes, then cassette tapes, then CDs, then MP3, then streaming. This particular record player is over a hundred years old.”

I could see Stevie contemplating whether or not to make another age joke at the chief. All it took was one steaming-hot glance from the fire chief to change Stevie’s mind.

“Hm. Well, it’s pretty at least,” he said instead. “Where’s my dress?”

Stevie had asked me to source a lookalike Marilyn Monroe dress for his Halloween costume and a formal top hat for the chief’s. I wasn’t quite sure how the two of them went together, but it wasn’t my place to ask.

“It’s upstairs. Let me grab it.”

As I passed Saint, he reached out a finger to graze the back of my hand. A flock of feral butterflies banged every which way inside my stomach, and I thought my heart might hammer straight out of my chest. Once I got upstairs to the apartment where I stored some of my overflow items, I took a minute to close my eyes and catch my breath.

When I opened my eyes again, I noticed the wooden chest. Something about it didn’t look right. The lid wasn’t fully seated, and there was a large scrap of fabric hanging out of one side. I would have never left it like that. Fabric snagged against old wood was a pet peeve of mine. And my part-time employee wouldn’t have had any reason to be up here in that part of the space at all.

“Saint!” I yelled downstairs before I had a chance to stop myself. I tried to calm myself down. “Um, Saint?”

The sound of his heavy footfalls taking the stairs two at a time kept me from turning tail and running. He hit the top of the stairs at a dead run and almost ran into me before skidding to a stop. “What is it?”

I pointed to the chest. “Someone’s been in here. That’s not how I left it.”

He looked around and quickly moved to investigate all the potential hiding spots in the room before approaching the chest. Saint knew from my description days before that I’d mentioned this chest to my cousin. He also knew that the chest was full of Melody’s vintage clothes and photo albums, which meant it didn’t have enough space left in it for a person to hide. Had there been room for a body in there, I might have already been passed out in a puddle of my own piss from fear.

Saint lifted the lid. Everything inside the chest had been tossed around. A few books and photos were scattered in heaps and rucked up to one side tangled among sequins and feathers. Somewhere in the mix, I spotted my original copy of the Hot Wheels Collectors Guide. It was a book I’d had for years since Rory had given it to me for my birthday one year. After pulling it from the debris, I was grateful to see it was undamaged. I held the slim volume to my chest.

“It’s him, isn’t it?” I asked in a shaky voice. “Brett.”

Saint’s arm came around my waist as we both peered into the mess. “Looks like it. I’m sorry, Augie.”

“But why? I just don’t understand it. How does he know Grandfather put that USB in there?”

He pulled me around in front of him and held my chin gently between his thumb and forefinger. “I think we should go to Dallas and meet with your grandfather. Find out what’s going on. Until we get to the bottom of this, you’re never going to feel safe.”