With This Ring Page 10

  Shortly before two in the afternoon, Matt was at his desk flipping through invoices when the phone rang. He answered it, half hoping it was Vic. Now that his lover’s mind was shut off from his, Matt would have no idea when his lover stopped by the gym. Though Vic was at work, Matt could still get his hopes up. “Yes?”

  “Hey.”

  It wasn’t Vic; it was Roxie. Matt had never been so disappointed to hear her voice before. “What?”

  “Hey!” she said again, wounded this time. “Don’t talk to me like that.”

  With a sigh, Matt said, “I’m sorry. I thought you were—”

  “Vic? No.” Roxie was quick, Matt would give her that. “But it is your doctor. That Indian fellow who called last week?” In a strange, lilting voice, she mimicked the doctor’s accent perfectly. “I wish to speak to Matthew. Will you accept the call?”

  Matt’s heart jumped in his chest. “Patch him through.”

  Roxie grumbled, “You’re welcome.”

  Before he could thank her, the line went dead. Then there was a click, followed by a man clearing his throat. “Dr. Veej?” Matt asked.

  “Matthew, hi. I called to see how you were doing. You’ve used the ring, yes?”

  The doctor’s accent drifted in and out, as if he couldn’t remember to use it all the time. Matt didn’t care—this was just the person he needed to talk to if he hoped to get the telepathy back. “I have a little problem with it,” he admitted.

  Quickly he shared with the doctor his concern about losing the mental bond he had forged with Vic. He passed on Vic’s thoughts about the different powers residing in different spermatozoa, and wondered out loud if they could somehow modify the electrical charge to affect only some of the powers. “Is that possible?”

  “I don’t know,” the doctor admitted. “It is worth a shot. Could you maybe bring the ring by my lab at some point? Let me take a look?”

  Matt glanced at his desk calendar, though there was nothing on it. “Vic works during the week. Maybe Saturday—”

  “Why wait that long?” Dr. Veej asked. “The lab is what, a twenty minute drive for you? I have some time today, if you want to just drop by.”

  Matt wasn’t comfortable doing that—he wanted Vic with him, because this affected them both. But if I get the ring altered today, maybe I can surprise him tomorrow when we have the mental connection back. Besides, he would meet Dr. Veej at the laboratory—they wouldn’t be alone. He could shower before leaving the gym, soap up the ring until it slipped off, and just hand it over to the doctor without having to undress. Hell, he probably wouldn’t be allowed into the lab itself anyway, and he’d have to wait in a reception area while the doctor worked his magic.

  And I’ll have my lover back inside my head tonight.

  That alone made up Matt’s mind. “I’m on my way.”

  Chapter 9

  Vic spent the day in a safety training seminar he would’ve rather done without. The bus drivers had to take the seminar once every quarter, regardless of how long they’d been with the Transit Authority. Four times a year, multiplied by the obscene number of years he’d been employed by the City, left Vic able to recite the damn seminar verbatim in his sleep if he wanted. Which he didn’t. It bored him to tears, learning workplace safety and driving rules that hadn’t changed since the last time he’d had to sit in the makeshift lecture hall at the bus garage. Half the drivers were required to attend the seminar on Monday; the other half, of which Vic was a member, drew the same duty on Tuesday. He only remembered when he clocked in and saw everyone heading to the garage instead of the bus lot. If he’d recalled sooner, he probably would’ve phoned in sick.

  The morning was spent staring at a spot on the wall just past the speaker. When asked a question, Vic took his time dragging his gaze her way, then counted the seconds it took her to realize he wouldn’t respond and move onto someone else. It started when she asked his name; by the time they broke for a catered box lunch, he still hadn’t said a single word.

  He ate in silence, taking two of the boxes because one little half a sandwich wasn’t about to fill him up. Around him, the other drivers goofed off and laughed at their own stupid antics—most thought the seminar’s speaker was a sexy little minx, and the talk turned crude when they began trying to one-up each other as they thought of things they’d like to do to her. Vic kept to himself. As if any of the men he worked with were brave enough to even approach a pretty young woman who wasn’t their wife. If the speaker had been one of their daughters…would they stand for such degrading talk from their friends? Vic wanted to plant that thought in their sordid little minds, make them all feel awkward and uncomfortable, but without Matt’s telepathic gift, he couldn’t. And trying to talk sense into them would only be wasted breath. Snarfing his second sandwich, Vic kept his gaze down and his elbows in, and ignored the rest of the world.

  At quarter to two, just before he had to head back into the seminar, he checked his cell for any calls. He’d left the phone in his locker—personal phones were banned in the lecture hall, probably for good reason. If Vic honestly believed a strategically timed call could pull him from the class, he’d have Matt phone him every half hour or so.

  There were no calls on his cell—he hadn’t thought there would be. For a moment he considered calling Matt, just to say hey, groan at him a little about being in the same damn seminar he’d taken last October, but there wasn’t much time before he had to get back to the class and he didn’t want to be rushed off the phone. With any luck, they would break early and he’d be home before Matt. Maybe he’d take his guy out for dinner, just for something different. Show he still loved him, powers or no—

  “Braunson!”

  The shout came from his boss’s office. With a groan, Vic stuck his cell back in his locker and slammed the metal door shut. Coworkers turned to watch as he made his way through the employee lounge to Morrison’s door. Just as he stepped into the doorway, his boss hollered again, “Braunson!”

  Vic narrowed his eyes at his boss. An older man with thinning hair, Morrison was a big guy—bigger than Vic, though his girth leaned more toward fat than muscle. He was hard of hearing, so everything he said was yelled at top volume. At the moment, he had the receiver of his desk phone cradled on his shoulder as he flipped through employees’ time cards. When he drew in a breath as if to bellow Vic’s name a third time, Vic growled, “I’m right here.”

  “Oh.” Morrison started, surprised at Vic’s sudden appearance, then let the phone slide down his arm to land on the desk. With a nod at the receiver, he said, “Call for you. Make it quick. Second session starts in two minutes.”

  “For me?” Vic asked. He took a step into his boss’s office and stopped. Who would call him at work? Who knew the number? “Who is it?”

  Morrison shrugged, disinterested. “Some chick. Make it fast, will you? Don’t want to miss the seminar.”

  Vic bit back a sarcastic remark and retrieved the receiver. Turning his back to his boss, he placed the phone to his ear and muttered, “Who is this?”

  A familiar voice sighed in his ear. “Next time you’re not going to be driving your route,” Officer Jones told him, “why don’t you tell me before I chase down half the buses in the City looking for you?”

  Before Vic could reply, Morrison asked him, “Personal call?”

  “Police,” Vic said. Let him work that out. Into the phone, he said, “What—”

  Officer Jones interrupted him. “Are you sitting down?”

  “Look,” he tried, “I’m sort of in the middle of something here.”

  Kendra kept talking as if she weren’t even listening to him. “Dr. Vijay Channarayapatra. You left out the ‘raya’ part when you told me his name. Did he look familiar to you?”

  “What?” Vic shook his head—why was she bothering him with this? “No. Just let it go, Kendra. I told you—”

  “Listen to me, Vic. This isn’t about you joining the force any more, okay? Just hear me out.”

>   With a disgruntled sigh, Vic clenched his teeth together. “What?”

  Kendra sounded relieved, and her voice warmed as she took a calming breath. “Dr. Veej, as you called him, was born in Reston, Virginia. Went to school at Virginia Tech and got all three degrees there, bachelor’s, master’s, Ph.D. Has never been out of the country. Even his parents were born in the States.”

  “So he’s faking the accent,” Vic said. “I already knew he was a little off. That doesn’t mean—”

  “He’s an only child,” Kendra told him. She waited for that to sink in, but couldn’t help asking, “Didn’t he say he made the…the ring thingy for his sister’s boyfriend? He has no sister.”

  “So he’s lying,” Vic started.

  Kendra cut him off. “Are you sure you didn’t recognize him, Vic?”

  “Where would I possibly—”

  “Jordan’s civic trial.” Vic didn’t have to be able to read minds to see the self-satisfied smirk on Kendra’s face—he heard it in her voice, loud and clear. “He was one of the jurors. I almost didn’t catch it, but I was looking through the files today wondering what really bothered me about this whole thing, you know? And his name just jumped out at me. Even though it was a little different from the name you gave, I Googled it and damn if he’s not listed on the Armour Labs corporate site as head of R & D.”

  Jordan. Why did everything circle back to that heinous man? The hand holding the phone clenched into an unconscious fist, but for the first time in a long while, Vic didn’t hear an accompanying crack of plastic. The strength was gone. The powers, gone. Because of Dr. Veej.

  Who had been a juror at Jordan’s trial. Which meant he hadn’t just seen the article in the tabloid; he’d known about Matt’s abilities all along.

  Vic let out a low sigh as he felt the weight of the world bear down on him. He needed those powers to keep Matt safe. He had always thought that was their purpose, and yet once again, he’d managed to lose sight of that one directive. Once again, the man he loved was in danger. Maybe not directly, but if Dr. Veej knew of Jordan prior to the news article, if he’d been lying about the sister and made the ring for Matt’s benefit alone, what else did he have up his sleeve?

  Before he could ask, Kendra said softly, “It gets worse.”

  “Worse?” The word felt strangled in Vic’s throat, and he glanced over his shoulder to see his boss frowning at him, hesitant concern in his eyes. “How can it possibly get worse?”

  For a long moment, Kendra didn’t answer. Behind Vic, his boss stopped scribbling on the time cards, waiting for Vic’s reaction to whatever news was coming. They both knew it had to be bad.

  Slowly, evenly, Kendra said, “There is some indication in the prison records that Jordan is currently in contact with Dr. Channarayapatra.”

  Vic felt his blood turn to ice. “What does that mean?”

  “Mail coming into the facility is logged,” Kendra explained. “Over the course of several months, these two men have struck up a…a correspondence of sorts, I guess you’d say. We have no record of what’s in their letters, that’s not noted, but they exchange maybe two or three a month. And most of Jordan’s outgoing calls are made to your Dr. Veej’s home number.”

  Shit.

  * * * *

  When Kendra finally hung up, Vic slammed the receiver down on his boss’s desk. Morrison glanced at him, worried. “Braunson…”

  Vic turned on his heel, ignoring the man, and raced back to his locker. The employee lounge was empty now, his coworkers ensconced in the afternoon session of the safety seminar. His large fingers trembled slightly—it all circled back to Jordan, he thought as he fumbled with the combination lock that kept him from his cell. Taking a deep breath, Vic grabbed the lock with both hands and pulled down on it. A growl of frustration escaped his throat but the metal didn’t twist away as he’d hoped. The lock stayed shut, stubbornly clinging in place. Vic punched the front of his locker with one angry fist. “Fuck!”

  Where were the powers now that he needed them? Taken away…by Jordan, again. The man was turning out to be Vic’s nemesis in this superhero game. Only I’m powerless now, Vic thought, tugging fruitlessly on the lock, so who’s winning here? Sure as hell not me.

  Calm down.

  It was Matty’s voice inside his head, so sure, so loving, so reasonable that Vic took another deep breath, this one to steady himself before he tried the combination again. Slowly, he turned the dial on the lock. He felt each number click into place, left, right, left again, slowly… Click. The lock opened in his hands.

  To the mental image of his lover, he whispered, “Thanks.” The lock fell to the floor as he yanked the locker open to scramble through the pockets of his jacket. Extracting his cell phone, he flipped it open to dial Matt’s number and saw a missed call from his lover’s extension at the gym.

  Damn.

  There was a voicemail message as well, but Vic ignored it and hit the SEND button twice to return the call. The phone rang three times, then switched over to a different ring, one he knew was being routed to the receptionist’s desk. He waited until he heard Roxie’s bored voice answer. “Thank you for calling—”

  “Hey, Roxie,” Vic sighed. “It’s me.”

  “Hey, you,” Roxie said. “Mr. Sexy just slipped out. I might be able to grab him in the parking lot, if you wait a minute.”

  Vic glared around the employee lounge to squint at the time clock on the far wall. It wasn’t even two thirty yet. “What? Where’d he go?”

  Roxie’s chewing gum cracked in Vic’s ear. “Doctor’s appointment, he said. Try his cell, maybe?”

  Doctor’s…no. Vic shook his head, no. Matt wouldn’t have gone to see Dr. Veej without telling him. What for?

  But he knew the answer—to see about maybe changing the frequency on the cock ring. It’d been Vic’s idea, and Matt had latched onto it the night before. Of course he’d call the doctor about it, see if it couldn’t be done.

  And maybe he had told Vic, only Vic hadn’t bothered to listen, because there was a voicemail waiting for him, wasn’t there?

  With a hasty, “Thanks,” he disconnected the call with Roxie and dialed his voicemail. He fumbled through his password twice before his lover’s warm voice filled his ear.

  “Hey, baby. Don’t get mad,” Matt said, the hint of a smile in his voice. “I know you’re trapped in safety hell, so I’m hoping you won’t get this until after class lets out. All day long I’ve been thinking over what we talked about last night, and funnily enough, who should call me but Dr. Veej this afternoon?”

  Funny, indeed. Vic squeezed his phone, pressing it tighter to his ear. He’d like to get his hands around Dr. Veej’s scrawny neck and strangle him the same way.

  “He’s got some free time this afternoon,” Matt was saying—Vic could only imagine how much free time the doctor had for his lover—”so I’m going to see if he can’t tweak this thing a bit, you know? We can try it out when I get home. Love you.”

  The message ended. Vic stood there for a moment, listening to the voicemail prompts reeled off in his ear. To hear the message again, press 1. To forward, press 2. To store in the archives…

  So Matt was heading down to Armour Labs. Alone. In the hopes that Dr. Veej would be able to help him get their mental connection back.

  And he had no idea Dr. Veej knew Jordan.

  Anger rose in Vic, so sudden, so cloying, he couldn’t breathe. Curling his hand into a fist, he flung his cell across the locker room, pissed. Fuck this. He had no powers any more, nothing to help Matt with, no way to save him…from what? He didn’t even know, and couldn’t find out. Was Jordan still hoping to get Matt’s powers for himself? Had he enlisted the doctor’s help to do that?

  Or did he just want to take them away from Vic?

  He had to do something. He had to stop Matt from meeting with the doctor, had to tell him about Jordan’s connection to the man. But when he retrieved his phone from where it had landed on the floor, the casing was cracke
d and the face plate no longer lit up. Vic didn’t know Matt’s cell number off the top of his head. He couldn’t just call him from Morrison’s phone…

  As if he’d heard that thought, his boss stepped out of his office and saw Vic kneeling on the floor by the wall. “Braunson?” he snapped, his loud voice ringing off the tiled walls. “Everything all right?”

  Vic shoved his broken phone into his pocket as he stood. “Fine,” he said, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. He wanted to laugh but was afraid the sound would run away from him. “Just dandy. Fuck.”

  Morrison frowned. “Why’d the police call you?”

  The police… Of course.

  Eying his boss, Vic thought maybe he could use Kendra’s phone call as a way to get out of the rest of the seminar…and hopefully intercept Matt on his way to Armour Labs. “I have to go.”

  Morrison’s frown deepened in concern. “Everything all right at home?”

  “Yeah, I’m…” Vic shrugged, helpless. “I just need to catch up with my friend.”

  He stumbled over the word; from the way one corner of Morrison’s mouth twitched, Vic knew his boss had noticed. Hell, Vic was almost forty years old, unmarried, and brought Matt to any function to which spouses were invited…if Morrison hadn’t clued in by now about his employee’s sexuality, he’d never get it.

  Cautiously, Morrison asked, “He okay?”

  “I don’t know,” Vic admitted.

  For a moment, he thought he’d have to walk out—just turn his back on his boss and hope his job would still be waiting for him once he caught up with Matt. And he had no telepathic ability, no way to mentally coerce his boss into letting him go. But something in Morrison’s hard face softened, and in a gruff voice, he said, “Well, go find out. I reckon you’ve heard all this safety shit enough times before.”