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For the Long Run
Chapter 1
The only sound Jay Molloy heard was the echoes of his footfalls off the hard-packed dirt trail he jogged down nearly every morning. The air was sweet and clean, the woods he ran through quiet. This was his favorite part of the day. He didn’t have to pretend he was something he wasn’t. No one wanted something from him, and no one depended upon him. He was free out here.
The path wound around the Great Bear Hunting Lodge and Resort. His parents owned it, but Jay lived on the grounds and was manager. It was his pride and joy, and someday, he hoped, he would be its owner. Not bad for a guy two years out of college. His parents mostly left him alone to run the place, only requiring he join them for certain political events.
Jay knew his parents—well his mother at least—loved him, even if they didn’t understand him. Rather, his father didn’t understand Jay’s life, and some days while Jay wanted to believe his father loved him, he doubted his father liked him very much. His mother honestly didn’t care what his sexual orientation was as long as he was happy. Jay’s mother was accepting, but in general the social strata his parents circled weren’t so much the same. Senators such as his father didn’t have openly gay sons. Something his father reminded him of often and loudly.
Except when they did.
The change from the Montana woods’ dirt path to concrete road jarred Jay for a few paces until he adjusted his steps. Slowing to a cooling-down walk, Jay went up the long, winding drive to his log-cabin home and took the front steps three at a time. He groaned when the door
pushed open as he touched the key to the handle; he’d locked it, and there was only one reason it would be unlocked.
Mom and Dad had come to visit.
Jay sighed and dropped his keys on the table by the door, calling out, “Hey, I’m going to hit the shower.”
His mother, Jeanette, coiffed, stylish even in a dark-gray running suit that had never actually run anywhere, appeared in the kitchen doorway. “I made coffee. Don’t you have real cream? Breakfast will be ready soon. I hope you didn’t eat before your run.”
“In the fridge,” Jay said, kicking off his shoes and stretching.
“Not that flavored stuff. Where’s the real cream?”
Jay sighed, put his hands on his hips and twisted side to side. “I like the flavored stuff.” He slipped through the bathroom door and into the shower. “And you know all I have before I run is a protein drink. I’m starved,” he stuck his head out from behind the curtain and shouted.
Ten minutes later, cleaner and more relaxed, he wandered into his kitchen, kissed his mother’s cheek, and nodded to his father, Stephan.
“I wish you guys would call first. What if I’d had company?” Jay leaned over his mother’s shoulder, inhaling deeply the aromas of her cooking.
“Then they should dress before coming out of the bedroom.” Jeanette turned and did that thing where she kissed his cheek without actually touching him. Jay thought it was sort of funny and endearing in a mom sort of way. It was in direct contrast to the mother who’d taught him to fish and hunt as a child. Some days he was amazed this woman and that one were really the same person. Multilayered, that’s what she liked to be called.
Jay snorted and sat at the table, flipping open the crisp linen napkins his mother insisted he have. “Well, you cooked so I can overlook it. These things are girly.” He flicked with one finger at the napkin.
“They are tea-dyed and classy.”
“And probably way overpriced. You shouldn’t waste your money getting me stuff like this, Mom.” He dug into the omelet.
“You’re my only son, and I want you to have a nice house. I thought gay men were supposed to be super decorators?” Jeanette poured a glass of orange juice and sat between Jay and his father, forever the buffer.
Jay grinned; it was a game he and his mother played. “And I thought society ladies were supposed to fritter away their hours in book clubs and charity luncheons.”
Pointing at him with her fork, Jeanette smiled. “Touché.”
He loved his mother. She was kind, smart, and the most nonjudgmental person he knew. On her own, she would have welcomed any man into Jay’s life he loved, bought him overpriced tea-dyed linen napkins too, and called him her second son.
“We have a press conference and photo ops day after tomorrow, three in the afternoon. Be an hour early and be prompt,” Stephan said.
Jay’s father was a different story altogether from his mother. It wasn’t that he didn’t love his father; he did. It was much harder getting close to him, however. Jay would likely never have the easygoing, banter-slinging relationship with his father he so enjoyed with his mother. There were days Jay even wondered if his father cared for him or felt nothing but contempt for him. The only thing his father seemed to care about was that Jay play the part of the dutiful, obedient son.
“I’ve never been late and I’ve never let you down.”
“You might have Kellie stay here, at least for appearances. There is enough room,” Stephan continued.
“What, and risk the scandal of premarital sex?” Jay sighed and put down his fork. “Look, I agreed to this fake marriage for your public image, and I’ve gone through with everything you’ve asked. I’ve kept the proper appearance, never been arrested. Hell, half the press doesn’t even know my name. In comparison to some other politicians’ siblings and children, I’m pretty damn good. You literally throw this girl at me I don’t even know. I get no explanation how you found her, and I’m supposed to pretend she’s the love of my life. Which I have done, and damn well.”
“She’s a nice girl, Jason. You should try to get to know her more,” Jeanette said.
“You like her so much, Mom, you sleep with her. I’ll hold her hand and put up a good public front, that’s as far as it goes. This is my home. I don’t want to have her here, and I don’t need to explain why. And Dad, next time? Call first.”
Stephan snapped out a harsh, “Jason!” He accompanied it with a hard slap to the tabletop, making Jay jump. His father hadn’t hit him in a good four years, not since he was in college and still an inch or two shorter than his old man. The threat, however, always simmered just below the surface. His father had boxed in school and was still in decent shape. Even now, Jay wasn’t sure he’d be much of a match in a physical confrontation. He never wanted to find out, either.
Jay pulled in a few deep breaths and forced his body to relax. “I do my job, I run this resort, and I keep my nose clean. You’ve got no reason to be angry or constantly ride my ass.”
“Don’t use that fag lingo on me, boy.”
“Dad, I wasn’t.” He pressed his finger and thumb to his forehead and rubbed, turning his head sideways and mouthing “help me” to his mother.
“You boys stop arguing and finish breakfast. I ordered a supply of the same napkins for the resort dining room, and I want to check the shipment myself. The other thing I want to do is stop at that farmer’s market on the way back home. Jay, I’ll make sure Kellie has the details.”
Jay smiled gratefully at his mother. His smile faded when his father’s mouth opened and more words came out.
“I’ve also hired a new head of security. He’s from Cleveland, was a homicide detective with the police department.”
“Ohio or Tennessee? And you hired someone without my input? I’m in charge of staffing. All of it.”
“Ohio, not that it matters. I only took the action you wouldn’t. Three of our clients have—”
“My
clients. I run this place. You don’t know the dining hall from the shooting range,” Jay retorted. He bunched his hand under the table and forced himself not to wince when his father’s hand hit the table again. “I know what’s going on. The police have investigated all the deaths. They can’t find a suspect. What else would you like me to do?”
“You? Nothing. Lord knows you’re not capable of any real defensive action. That’s why I hired a professional, to look into these deaths. We’ll lose business if this keeps up. When I was a boy the same thing happened and this town almost turned into a ghost town because of it.” Somehow Stephan managed to make a simple conversation sound as if Jay was the biggest disappointment on the planet.
Jay’s insides wilted.
“Boys!” Jeanette patted Jay’s arm. “I think what your father is saying is he’s very concerned about more people dying.” She sat back, blocking Jay’s view of his father and aimed a sharp look at Stephan. “All those poor young men were found on our resort, even if it was obvious they didn’t die there. It’s not the same situation.”
“Fine,” Jay sighed. “But I get the final say on this guy, and if I don’t like him, he goes.”
Jeanette smiled and pushed Jay’s coffee mug closer to him. “There, all settled. Jay will give the new employee a chance to wow him, and if not, then he’ll exercise his right as manager to fire the schmuck.”
“It’s not my fault there is some wacko killing people and dumping them here. It’s probably because we have a lot of remote woods and can’t possibly be related to what happened here decades ago.”
“Which reminds me, dear, can’t you do your running on an inside track and not through the woods?” Jeanette asked.
Jay wanted to cut off the tears he knew his mother was working herself up to before they started. “Mom, seriously? I’ve been jogging in those woods since I was what, twelve? All the bodies were taken to the same spot. That the police have established for sure. They’re all killed elsewhere. If I thought it was dangerous, I’d close the resort in a heartbeat and stop running in the woods.”
A few hours later, their meal finished and his mother’s self-imposed little chores around the resort completed, his parents were ready to be on their way. He pulled his mother into a hug, whispering in her ear, “I love you. A lot. Thank you.”
Jeanette patted his cheek, then reached down and took his hand, squeezing. “I’ll e-mail you the details. We’ll see you in a few days. I love you too.” She pecked his other cheek and headed down the front steps and into their car.
Jay went back inside, shut the front door, and leaned against it, letting his head thump on it a few times. He sighed and pushed off the door. There was some freak killing and maiming young men in the area and then dumping them on his resort. So far, all the victims were tourists—that and the fact that they were all men in their twenties were the only similarities. None had been from the same geographic area, none knew one another or were in the same professions. One was married, one a single gay man, and one didn’t appear to have any attachments or preferences. From the reports Jay read, they didn’t even seem to like the same food. The only connection was they’d all been on the resort a day or two before dying. Everyone who worked on the resort had been questioned, re-questioned and, in some cases, watched for a time. As far as Jay knew, no one was a firm suspect.
Rubbing his temples, Jay decided he needed to forget forced marriages and murders for one night. He had a day and a half until the press conference, and he had his favorite watering hole he could go to. That’s exactly what he intended to do after work. If he was really lucky, he could find some other distraction. It was all he could ever hope for. The relationship Jay wanted was out of the question and out of his reach. He’d come to accept that fact.
At least he could relax, have a beer, watch a game, and eat some food.
It was an average bar on the outskirts of Butte he drove to spend the evening in, one that was far enough away no one would likely know or recognize him. Inside it was homey, with a friendly staff and wide-screen televisions playing every game within reception. There was always a good mix in the crowd—gays, straights, men, women, some alone, some with others, and almost all of them into some form of kink. Mostly, all of them were there for the food and, tonight, pro basketball. It was a nice place to get lost in and become one of the crowd and find other birds of the same feather as it were.
Across the street was a clean, decent, small motel in case he found a friend or simply didn’t want to drive back that same night. If he had more than a few beers, it was his habit to wait until the morning to head for home.
Settling at the bar, Jay ordered a beer, preferring local brews to the bigger name brands. While he waited for his drink to show up, he scanned the menu, not sure what he wanted yet. When his beer arrived, he swiveled the bar stool around and leaned back against the bar to watch the start of the game. People filtered in and out, and the barmaid brought him a second beer along with some nachos and cheese.
The door swung open and a gust of cool air hit him. Jay glanced at the man coming through. He was tall, maybe an inch or two taller than Jay, older, with light brown hair and dark brown eyes. His trim waist blossomed to a powerful chest, round, muscled shoulders, and beefy arms. Thick thighs were encased in his well-fitting jeans, giving just enough of a hint of their bulging muscles. Jay liked a man with muscle, and he definitely had a thing for powerful legs. The guy was easily half again as wide as Jay, and he judged him to be early to mid-thirties, making him roughly ten years Jay’s senior.
He was gorgeous and the type of man Jay fantasized about but never really felt he could win. Jay was nice to look at but nothing like this. He considered himself more average. He was in shape, but leaner. He’d never have the sheer bulk and powerful physique gracing this man.
The man settled in a corner, out-of-the-way booth and ordered a beer, gaze skimming the bar before coming to rest on the television and the game. Jay hoped he’d looked away fast enough and wasn’t caught staring at the newcomer.
Too bad Jay was being forced into a marriage he didn’t want, to a woman he barely knew or liked. He knew exactly what he wanted but doubted he’d ever get it, a man who understood him. One who knew what he wanted and went after it, knew how to take without violence. A man who took the time to learn what Jay wanted—needed—and had the smarts to provide it. A man who took control and let Jay simply be himself.
A man like that
one.
Jay’s quick glances in his direction morphed into longer looks until he realized he was staring again.
The man in the corner nodded to him and tipped his beer bottle at Jay when one team scored a basket. Jay hadn’t turned away fast enough and had been caught gazing. Cheeks burning, Jay smiled back and ducked his head, breaking eye contact. A few minutes later, he took a deep breath and turned his head, looking to the side. The man’s gaze at once flicked from the game to Jay, a slow, easy smile spreading over his face.
Jay’s radar tingled. He knew that look. It made his stomach go giddy and his cock get warm and thick. He offered a shy smile back. This man was definitely the right type of man for Jay, on a few levels.
The man tipped his beer at Jay before wrapping his lips around the bottle neck, taking a swig and watching Jay with dark, smoldering, lusty eyes. Jay gulped and looked down again, picking at the material of his jeans where they covered his knee.
Jay waited, wondering what would happen next. Was this man a man who knew what he wanted and how to get it? When the man shifted around, planted both feet on the floor, and leaned forward, gaze moving from the television to Jay and back a few times before he settled on watching him, Jay decided maybe he was indeed a man who saw what he wanted and then took it. The thought of this big man pinning him to a bed or wall, taking him and giving to him, made Jay’s heart race.
Jay was never that lucky.
“Eric.” The man was standing beside Jay a few seconds later, hand extended, warm expression in his eyes and on his face.
Jay shook his hand, returning the smile with a shy one of his own. “Jay.”
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