With Or Without Him Part 21

"Had you seen what was coming?"

"No." Tyler shook his head. "Dad took us for a meal and told us we were going on holiday. He made us happy for the last time. He did that deliberately, aware of what he was going to do. That night, after we got back, the first thing he did was kill our two dogs. He shot Noel and Claire in their bedrooms. He probably looked for me in my room, I heard him call me, but I'd snuck down to see why the dogs had made a strange noise. When I came back into the house, I went upstairs to tell my mum that Bruno and Matty were...dead, and she grabbed me and put her hand over my mouth, whispered for me to be quiet."

Don't tell him all this. Don't... But the words poured out.

"I heard my dad calling me and calling me, and Mum pulled me into a guest room. She was all...wet. I didn't...I didn't realize what... She wrapped her dressing gown tie around my mouth because I never shut up. She knew I never shut up. I had to keep quiet. She kept whispering that I had to keep quiet no matter what anyone said. 'Keep quiet, baby. Keep quiet.'"

Haris stared at him without blinking.

"She pushed me into the bed and covered me with cushions and pillows. I heard him come into the room. Mum begged him not to hurt her, pleaded with him, and he said, 'I'm sorry' and shot her again."

"Tyler," Haris whispered. "I'm so sorry."

He took a shaky breath. "She fell on me and I couldn't move. But I knew I wasn't supposed to move. I wasn't supposed to speak so I lay still and waited. I heard him banging around, looking for me, shouting and I was getting wetter and wetter and I couldn't figure out why. I knew...the moment she died. She...breathed out for too long and she didn't breathe in again. Eventually, I heard another shot. There was no more noise after that. But I still didn't move, not even when the police came. I found out later that I lay under her body for twelve hours. They only discovered me when they lifted her up to take her away. I was red from head to toe with my mother's blood."

"Oh G.o.d," Haris murmured.

"So now I have a problem with blood and with being gagged. Well, I have a lot more issues than those but they're the big ones."

"Why the h.e.l.l did he do it?"

"Pride." He released a bitter laugh. "As a little boy, I didn't understand, and in a way, I still don't. That pride could make him kill his family? He was in debt and about to lose the house, his business, everything. He was faced with having to take us out of our private schools. Bailiffs were coming to seize the contents of the house. We had no relatives to go and live with. No friends my father could face. I was told by my counselor that my father had been trying to spare his family the distress and grief that he was experiencing. What a f.u.c.king pile of s.h.i.t."

Tyler turned to him, the tension in his jaw making it hard to speak. "He was a selfish w.a.n.ker and he should have killed himself and no one else. Noel had nearly died of cancer and we'd all been so f.u.c.king happy when the chemo worked. He had his life back and our father took it away again."

He shook his head. "I don't allow myself to think about this. I hadn't even remembered about Noel's cancer until tonight." He turned a bleak gaze on Haris. "I don't want to think about it anymore." He slid his hand onto Haris's crotch.

Haris gripped his wrist. "Tyler," he whispered.

"Let me."

Tyler pushed the b.u.t.ton free on his pants, carefully unzipped him and pulled his c.o.c.k out with both hands.

"Tyler, no," Haris muttered.

"Please." I can do this. I'm good at this. I can make myself forget, make you forget I told you.

He slid his thumbs up the side of Haris's c.o.c.k and Haris shuddered and threaded the fingers of one hand in Tyler's hair. He loved the way Haris's shaft hardened in his hand, swelling with blood, the veins snaking the length growing more prominent. Tyler dragged his finger across the slit and brought a pearl of silky pre-come to his lips. Staring into Haris's face, he slowly licked his finger.

Haris reached for the intercom b.u.t.ton. "Wilson. Don't go straight home. Take us a roundabout route." He slumped back on the seat, his gaze still fixed on Tyler.

Tyler laughed. "How long do you think this is going to take?"

"As long as you want, I suspect."

Tyler bent his head and sucked him all the way into his throat.

"Jesus Christ," Haris muttered and his body stiffened.

Saliva leaked out of Tyler's mouth as he let the shaft slide back and forth between his lips. As Haris tightened his hold on his hair, Tyler sucked hard and hummed around him. He played the c.o.c.k like a musical instrument, fluttering, twisting and teasing with his tongue until Haris panted and groaned. He tasted good, sort of sharp and flat at the same time and he kept getting bigger. And doing this stopped Tyler thinking.

Haris pushed down on his head, gripping his hair with both hands now, and Tyler let him control the tempo. He kept his lips tight around him, maintaining the pressure and he didn't stop humming because he knew how good the vibration felt.

"Oh, oh, ah, fu...Je...oh..." The sounds that burst from Haris's mouth were cries of wonder, and Tyler felt a thrill of delight that he could bring this cla.s.sy guy to incoherency.

He brought his thumb to Haris's b.a.l.l.s and rubbed gently down the seam of his sac. His nuts were hard and swollen and he thought of all the little sperm swimming around in there. Four hundred million ejected every time a guy came. Fourteen gallons over a lifetime.

"Tyler," Haris whispered.

Haris was coming. Tyler could feel it in his body, hear it in his voice, taste it in his c.o.c.k. He sucked harder, moved his mouth faster and a spurt of salty-sweet s.e.m.e.n hit the back of his throat. Haris shuddered as he emptied himself into Tyler's mouth. Tyler didn't let his c.o.c.k free until he'd swallowed every drop.

Haris yanked him back up onto the seat and wrapped his arms around him. "What are you smiling about?"

"I just swallowed four hundred million potential Haris's. Oh no, half might be female."

Haris laughed.

"I wonder what sperm think when they reach the stomach," Tyler said. "Are they programmed to look for an egg to fertilize even there?"

"As far as I remember from my s.e.x ed cla.s.ses, sperm have no sense of direction. Eggs send a chemical lure to guide them and only one in five swim the right way anyway. Hence the joke about men never taking directions from women."

"Hey, do you think our sperm are gay?"

Haris chuckled. "Probably. I know which direction yours are about to go."

Tyler groaned as Haris unb.u.t.toned his pants.

Chapter Thirteen.

When Stan Deeds put a brown envelope on the coffee table in front of him, Haris's heart began to race.

"He's changed his name," Stan said. "Used to be Tyler Griffith."

"He told me about his family."

Stan raised his eyebrows. "Yeah? Well, I remember the case. I was in the police then. Not my district but the idea that all those people coming and going at the crime scene could miss a kid hiding in the bed? Shocking."

And it had left Tyler scarred. f.u.c.king understatement of the year.

"Anything else of significance?"

"Generally, he seems like your average student, up to his ears in debt. Though he's been reducing that over the last few months. On three out of four Mondays, he makes a cash deposit of five hundred pounds into his account. Last week he put five hundred in on Thursday as well. Details are in the envelope. Needless to say, you did not get this from me. If you want me to find out where he's getting the money, he'll need to be followed."

Did he want to know? Yes and no. "Not at the moment," Haris said. "But inform me if he deposits any cash today."

"Fine. Now, the other matter. You are being followed. You were tailed to the Natural History Museum and back again last night. You need to have a word with your chauffeur. Driving in random circles isn't going to throw anyone off."

Haris let out a strangled laugh. "So it's a white Fiat?"

"Not last night. It was a black Peugeot. I checked the license plate. A rental car picked up in Hackney. If it had been one of the big companies, I could have got a name, but it's a two-bit business and I didn't want to set bells ringing. Unless you want me to? Any reason to think you're in danger?"

He shook his head and then nodded. "Maybe. There was an incident on Sat.u.r.day night. Tyler and I were pushed under the wheels of bus at Hyde Park Corner."

Stan's eyes widened. "Pushed? Not an accident?"

"Someone shoved me and I knocked Tyler down. It felt deliberate and no one hung around to apologize. The tailing of my car and the bus incident might not be connected..."

"But you think they are?"

"I honestly don't know."

Stan leaned forward. "If you want my help, you need to tell me who would want to cause you trouble, maybe even kill you."

"If I knew, I'd tell you."

Haris didn't like the way Stan looked at him. But he was an ex-cop. He guessed Haris was lying.

"Any business deals gone bad recently that someone might have taken personally?"

"I'm always putting someone's nose out of joint, but then people p.i.s.s me off too and I don't go around following their car or pushing them under buses."

"Someone from your past?"

Ah, there's the rub. What did Stan know? Haris thought he kept his secrets well hidden, but Stan had proved adept at uncovering information for him that lay well below normal levels of accessibility, so it was likely he'd also uncovered information about him.

"It's possible," Haris admitted. "How about we confront whoever's following my car. I'll get Wilson to take a predetermined route and you can have people waiting to box him-them in."

"Do we need to be armed?"

Haris gulped. "I have no idea. I wouldn't think so, but..."

"Okay. It'll take me a couple of days to set up. What about Thursday night?"

"That's fine. And I've had second thoughts about Tyler. Until I know what this is about, follow him. Make sure he stays safe. Whoever is after me started this before I'd even met him. I don't want him trawled up in it."

Haris sat thinking in his office long after Stan had left. The PI had made the a.s.sumption that the driver of the Fiat and Peugeot were the same. If the Peugeot hadn't been a rental car, Haris might have thought it was the man who raped Tyler's friend but the man didn't know that Tyler would be there last night. What reason would he have to rent a car? Am I being followed? Why has n.o.body approached me? Trying to unnerve me? Well, it was working. He was officially unnerved. Maybe it was time he made some enquiries of his own.

It took him a few minutes on the Internet to find the number. Even after he'd tapped it into his phone, he hesitated. While he was still brooding about it, he transferred the ten thousand he'd promised into Tyler's bank account. Then he cancelled the call. Better not to be tempted.

The envelope Stan had brought still sat on the coffee table. There seemed no point in not opening it. Photocopies of press cuttings about the murder of Tyler's family fluttered onto his desk. Haris picked up the report and began to read.

The members of Tyler's band stared at him in a mixture of astonishment and disbelief after he'd given them the news about the journalist from Spot magazine.

"You are f.u.c.king joking," said Des, the ba.s.s player.

"Nope." Tyler grinned.

"Oh s.h.i.t," mumbled Col, the other guitarist.

"We're not ready," said Newt, the drummer.

Tyler shrugged. "We'll never be completely ready. There's always going to be ways we can improve. But we need to rehea.r.s.e tonight as well as tomorrow before the gig." He looked round at each of them for agreement.

"You sure he'll come?" Col asked.

"He said he would."

"I still can't believe it," Newt said. "Spot magazine? Oh G.o.d and I've got the biggest zit ever on my chin."

They all laughed.

Newt glared. "Hey, it's not funny."

"You want me to go all the way home and get my guitar?" Col asked.

Tyler gaped at him. "This is our chance. The one we thought we'd never get."

"Yeah, dork." Des flicked Col's head with his finger and thumb.

"Ouch. Well, we need to decide what to play-"

"The running order we've already agreed is fine," Tyler said.

"Will he want to interview us or what?" Newt asked. "You know, find out how we started and what our influences are?"

"Like Playboy?" Des reared back as Newt's fist flew out.

"I don't know," Tyler said. "Probably not if he thinks we're c.r.a.p."

A worm of unease slithered through his gut. What if this was it? The start of their path to stardom? Was his baggage going to drag them down? One of Prescott's parties he could have excused, but he'd gone for months. And the movies... He gulped. The only way to deal with this was to bring it out into the open, and then there was no way he could be blackmailed.

"What's up, T?" Col asked.

"Nothing. I've a lecture so I have to go, but we'll meet in room seventeen as soon after five as you can, okay?"

As he hurried down the corridor, he took out his phone to text Haris and saw he had a message from Jeremy. Tyler clicked on that first.

Not bin 2 wk. Thnk Gerald watching flat. Pleez come. XX He groaned. Tyler a.s.sumed wk meant work at Harrods or Starbucks. He slid into the lecture hall and climbed to the seats at the rear where he could use his phone unseen. He texted Can't come b4 10 and switched the phone off. Gerald? It wasn't impossible. He might have followed Jeremy after his scoot down the drainpipe. Or he might already know where Tyler lived courtesy of Prescott. Or maybe he followed me.

Chills ran up and down his spine, icy fingers that made him shudder. He and Haris had almost ended up under a bus. Haris suspected someone was following the car. Jeremy had been raped and it was all because of him. Gerald was f.u.c.king insane. He thought about asking Haris if Jeremy could move in with them. Yeah, well, he could just imagine the way that conversation would go.

He wished he'd ignored Jeremy at the party, he wished he'd never gone back to his place, but he had. Tyler didn't want to feel responsible for Jeremy's problems, but he did. He'd head out and see him after the rehearsal and try to persuade him to stay somewhere else. If the guy insisted on still attending the parties, maybe he ought to appeal to Prescott and tell him what Gerald had done.