Love and Pain Read online

  Love and Pain

  By W.S. Long

  Published by JMS Books LLC

  Visit jms-books.com for more information.

  Copyright 2015 W.S. Long

  ISBN 9781611528480

  Cover Design: Written Ink Designs | written-ink.com

  Image(s) used under a Standard Royalty-Free License.

  All rights reserved.

  WARNING: This book is not transferable. It is for your own personal use. If it is sold, shared, or given away, it is an infringement of the copyright of this work and violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

  No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review.

  This book is for ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It may contain sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which might be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Published in the United States of America.

  * * * *

  To my fans: who’ve clamored for a follow up to Jake and Xavier’s story. I hope you enjoy! And to my ever supportive husband: thanks for putting up with me!

  * * * *

  Love and Pain

  By W.S. Long

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 1

  The fluorescent light flickered, much to Xavier’s dismay. He’d replace the bulb himself but regulations required that building maintenance put in the lighting. He placed the work order more than a week before but the wheels of progress in the FBI crept like molasses on a frozen lake.

  The bare gray walls added to the monotony of his desk assignment with the lack of any decoration making the office more of jail cell than an analysis room. Here he sat: Xavier Benjamin Gooding. FBI agent. Field operative. Now? Desk jockey.

  He palmed his cell phone, checked the time. Jake should be on the orange line headed home to their condo in Fairfax. That is, if Jake took the train on time and didn’t have to transfer. He would text him to tell him that he would leave the complex in a half hour, but thick concrete walls prevented cell calls out. Plus, cell phone transmissions were banned when he should be analyzing data. Rules required him to turn off the cellular function when he stepped in the secure room.

  He looked at the phone by the computer but he knew it could be monitored. It wasn’t a secure line and calling on the phone was frowned upon for personal use anyway.

  He exhaled. Picking up the office phone shouldn’t be a big deal but he had made a conscious decision to be under the radar in transition in this new job. Everyone in the Tampa office knew he was gay. Since he arrived in Virginia though, he tried to keep his head down and demurred on revealing too much about himself with other agents on the floor in casual conversations. Quantico was just miles down the road and the less scrutiny he got from the multiple division and agency supervisors that floated here and there, the more he could keep a low profile until he get back in the field.

  His thumb cued the photo album app on his cell and he absentmindedly scrolled quickly then stopped at his favorite picture of them: taken a few months ago, standing with the Washington Monument in the background. The lighting flattered their pale features since the picture was taken at dusk. Jake, his brown hair slightly unkempt due to wind, smiled at the camera. Xavier stood, several inches taller, three days of stubble apparent, his arm around Jake with Xavier’s dirty blond hair tucked into a ball cap, his eyes obscured by Wayfarer sunglasses, as the angle flattered his broken nose. They were a cute gay couple in a city full of others like them.

  Xavier put the cell down. His TEMPEST approved computer, designed to prevent any electronic emissions or EMRs being detected, continued to compare lists provided by the NSA, CIA, DIA and his own bureau. Watch lists, terror lists, information on flight manifests, all this data required a human being to observe nothing was overlooked for analysis.

  As usual, his mind drifted while waiting for data to ping for review.

  Since he returned from Dubai almost over a year ago with Jake, his last minute gamble relegated him to pushing papers at a steel desk in a location most agents didn’t know about.

  Still Xavier didn’t regret his actions. Chasing Ivan Petrov, the man who killed Jake’s former boss, Anton Hersch, and Jake’s former lover, Noah, was worth it. Ivan, the scumbag, now sat behind bars in a federal moderate-risk penitentiary somewhere in the Midwest.

  Asking Jake to accompany him to Dubai was something he came up at the last minute. Something he winged because he didn’t want to let Jake go.

  Xavier hoped Jake’s help would lead to finding Ivan’s brother, a suspect in conspiracy to murder, racketeering, and a whole host of federal related crimes. If they had been successful, Xavier’s gamble would have paid off. But they weren’t. Ivan’s brother was still out there. Somewhere.

  Following their return from the United Arab Emirates, Xavier accepted a promotion and left Tampa with Jake following. The move gave Jake a chance to start over.

  Everything went well, but after arriving in Fairfax, FBI Quantico ran a cursory audit, which revealed the lack of the proper paperwork for taking Jake along to Dubai. Xavier got benched to non-field work.

  Still, Xavier wouldn’t have changed the plan.

  Dubai was worth it.

  Xavier closed his eyes and remembered their last night in the Middle East. The full moon on the Persian Gulf cast its light on the waters as Jake and Xavier each held a bottle of Heineken on the hotel balcony. Man-made islands in the shape of palms were lit below them as they talked about their lives. Xavier’s childhood in Minnesota. Jake’s memories of Chelsea, his daughter, being held for the first time in the hospital after her birth.

  In the moonlight, Jake’s blue eyes were obscured but Xavier sensed Jake’s loneliness. They kissed, slowly at first then passionately. He knew then, when his heart raced as they kissed that he never wanted the feeling to end.

  Love.

  What else would explain these crazy thoughts I get when I see him?

  A slight smile formed on Xavier’s lips as he reached down to his leather attaché and his fingers searched for the small box. With his thumb and index finger he opened it and felt the ring inside.

  Anxiety overcame him.

  Shit! What if he says no?

  Xavier exhaled. He looked on the calendar on his cell and tried to determine when he should pop the question. He put out from his mind the fear that caused his throat to tense, his brow to furrow. He knew the exact restaurant in Georgetown where he would propose. Since Valentine’s was two weeks away, he jotted down a note on a Post-it to remind himself to call ahead and make sure there was a quiet, romantic table for two.

  Now if only proposing to Jake would be as easy as planning the dinner.

  * * * *

  Jake looked at his watch as the doors closed and the train picked up speed, hurling towards Fairfax from Alexandria.

  Fuck!

  He hoped to make it for dinner by seven but he got stuck decoding blueprints that were part of a patent application. Since he moved to Virginia to be with Xavier, Jake’s temporary placement with the feds at the Patents and Trademark Office in Alexandria proved predictable. Most days, anyway. In at eight, out by five. Tonight though he stayed over a few. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to apply for the permanent, non-lawyer position but he was hedging his bets so he wanted to put some effort. Most jobs at an examiner position required computer, mechanical or electrical engineering but, luckily, Patents needed a paralegal to make sure all the legal paperwork matched with the applications. He did like the monotony of it. It was safe, predictable and he got paid on time. He didn’t have to track down clients who owed him money, carry malpractice insurance or deal with criminal clients.

  Jake contacted the two legal temp firms he was registered with to see if there was more work for him since the job ended officially a few minutes ago when he clocked out. He knew Patents would take weeks, if not months, to fill the full-time position since the federal employment process was involved and he couldn’t afford to be unemployed for too long.

  He still didn’t know what he wanted to do. He placed his Florida Bar license in inactive status after Noah’s death. Reactivate his Florida Bar license and go back to Florida? That would mean leaving Xavier, who took a promotion—at least in pay—to come here to the great Beltway area. The largest concentration of government jobs in the free world.

  His other option was to press forward and take the Virginia Bar exam. He could have opted for Maryland’s, but many of the private practice jobs were on this side of the Potomac. Since he let his Florida bar status become inactive, the DC bar wouldn’t consider him to be in good standing.

  At least things were better with Elena. Elena remarried; the alimony he owed stopped. He was c
urrent on child support, helped out in large part due to Xavier’s FBI agent salary paying for their rented condo in the nice suburban area of Fairfax. Jake’s earnings at the temp job helped him stay current. Jake paid the electric, cable and phone. Luckily condo rent also included water and gas heat.

  The animus between Elena and Jake lessened since he moved up to Virginia to be with Xavier. The only reason he thought about Florida every day was simple: he missed his daughter Chelsea.

  Skyping once a week, texting once a day and the occasional phone call after school helped ease his guilt. For Christmas almost two months ago, she flew up, spent one whole week with them, and stayed until right before New Year. But, Skyping, texting and talking on the phone wasn’t the same. His daughter was growing up faster than he expected.

  His thoughts jarred, and he dropped the clunky, bulging book bag that he carried since standing in the crowded train made it difficult to hold it with the jerks and turns as the Metro sped through the tunnel.

  He dug out his cell phone and looked at the home screen. Chel smiled in that picture as he peered over her shoulder in the picture. Her hair, as usual, covered part of her eyes. The selfie of the two of them had them both laughing. The picture was blurry but it was the happiest photo of the two of them since Noah’s death.

  Jake looked up as he felt the subway slow to a stop and watched as several passengers got up from their seats and exited. Jake saw a spot, and sat on the edge of the plastic bench before the doors closed again and the train moved to the next station.

  Jake eyed the remaining passengers, noting the diversity in color, age, and dress styles. You could always tell the folks that had government jobs in the Beltway. Dark shoes, long coat, plaid scarf, a folded-up Washington Post tucked underneath an arm or a small thin briefcase held by a gloved hand. The dress code was eerily similar, day in, day out.

  Across from him sat a twenty-something man, crew cut hair, wearing a starched white shirt, and black Dickies pants. He couldn’t tell what he wore underneath the dark blue pea coat but the thick-soled shoes and ear buds stuck in his ear, provided an air of indifference. He smiled at Jake once he realized that Jake took a measure of him. Jake half-smiled in response but turned his attention to the other passengers. An older woman chatted with her friend, holding a grocery bag. Two teenagers their backs towards each other stared at cell phone screens and texted on their phones. Next to his left stood a young man, holding a young girl’s hand while a dark-haired woman seated on the bench, held a baby who she nursed with a baby bottle.

  After seeing the baby, Jake remembered he had to go to the grocery store. He closed his eyes for a second, trying to remember the two or three items he needed from the local Kroger. Soy milk, peanut butter. What else?

  The train turned a slight corner then sped up. Passengers standing towards the end moved towards the door as the LED sign announced the next station stop. One of the men caught Jake’s eye. Tall, lanky with chestnut brown hair, Jake did a double take. For a moment, he froze as the man’s profile came into view.

  Not Noah.

  He exhaled, then his head dropped. He couldn’t deny to himself that he wished Noah stood next to him on this train.

  Man, I still miss him.

  * * * *

  The train slowed as it approached the next station when the subway’s glaring lights shut off. The metro train stopped, the doors jarred open. The station illuminated only by faint emergency lights near the stairwells and every three feet. Jake coughed. Smoke seeped into the car.

  “Oh my God!” screamed a woman. “I can’t see anything!”

  Shouts from different passengers encouraged her to step out.

  “It’s probably an electrical malfunction,” yelled a man standing a few feet to Jake’s right.

  Jake closed his mouth, covering it with his hand and proceeded to the exit with other passengers, some who ran out while others pushed to get through. Jake almost reached the door when he heard a child’s cries.

  “Mommy! Mommy!”

  He expected to hear a woman’s voice, comforting the girl but didn’t so he faced the cries. He took two large steps but he saw her. She sat on the floor, her curly hair long. He guessed her age to be six years of age. He didn’t see the young man that stood next to the child before or the woman feeding the baby.

  He crouched so he could talk to her. “Hey, Princess, your mom’s outside,” he paused. “You want to come help me look for her?” He coughed because of the smoke. In the dim light, he saw the young girl nod her head and lifted her arms to be carried. Jake obliged by hoisting her and then turning towards the door. “Close your eyes and cover your mouth until we are outside, okay?”

  He heard her choke her sob as he double-timed it out of the subway. Good Samaritans stood near the stopped escalators, some using the lighted screen of their phones, others using the flashlight apps to help people take the steps up. People shuffled and voices blended, but he could hear many of the Metro’s passengers encouraging others to take it slow as they left the station. He caught part of the station sign, announcing they were at New Carrollton.

  Shit! I’m barely halfway home.

  As he took the steps up, Jake tried to keep his breathing short. Smoke seemed to be around everywhere. He heard coughing around him and the sound of fans in the background but he couldn’t tell if the fans were moving the air away from them or towards the subway’s passengers. As he climbed, the young girl’s weight shifted in his arms and Jake felt a pull in the muscle in the left arm. His shoulder had healed after being shot by Ivan but the child’s presence put some stress on it.

  “Everything will be okay, don’t worry,” said Jake. He hoped his words reassured her. He thought about Chelsea and held the six-year-old closer to his chest. He coughed. The smoke overwhelmed the top of the landing as he got closer to the exit. He could see streetlights illuminating the top. Finally, as they reached topside, he breathed a sigh of relief. Fresh, cold air filled his nostrils and he took some deep breaths. He saw flashing lights of fire trucks, the red and white emergency lights of DC metro police and two or three television station vans.

  “We’re safe, sweetheart. Can you look and see if you see your mommy?”

  He felt her shift in his arms, her own clutching his neck. He realized for the first time that his neck was wet from her tears. “We’re okay. Do you see her?”

  She gulped her tears and craned her neck. Without saying a word, she shook her head no.

  “What’s your mommy’s name?”

  “Connie. My mom’s name is Connie. She was holding my baby brother, Danny.”

  “Connie! Connie!” he yelled, repeating her name. He paused then repeated.

  When he didn’t hear any response, he moved to the ambulances in the area. “Connie! Connie!” he shouted. He started to face the other direction, toward the police cars when he heard a female shout.

  “Oh my God! Do you have my girl?”

  Jake whipped back to the ambulances and saw the same young woman with dark hair holding an oxygen mask, a wool blanket around her shoulders, and a newborn in her arms, in the back of a van.

  Jake ran toward her. He didn’t need to confirm if the child knew the woman because the six-year old screamed. “Mommy!”

  “Oh, thank God! Timmy said he thought he had you, Lisa. He’s been searching for you.”

  The young girl squirmed from his arms and he put her near the edge of the ambulance. Connie dropped the oxygen she had in her hand and hugged her daughter.

  “There you are!” he heard a man shout behind him.

  “Timmy! This guy brought Lisa here.”

  Jake felt the tap of a hand on his arm. Timmy held out his hand. “Thank you, sir. Somehow with the crush of all of us trying to leave, I thought I had her and when I got to the stairs, I looked, and she was gone. I couldn’t see anything.” Jake shook Timmy’s hand. He heard the relief in his voice. Timmy could be no more than twenty-five and Connie probably was the same age.

  “No worries. I’m glad I could help. I have a daughter too so I thought it was the right thing to do.”

  “Thank you, sir. Thank you,” said Connie, who now was wiping tears from her eyes.

  Jake nodded and then stepped back to allow Timmy to hug Lisa, the young girl he held in his arms a few minutes earlier. He scanned the area and saw more passengers being attended to. As he stood there massaging his neck, an EMT approached him and offered him oxygen. Jake waved it off, but the first responder insisted.