“It’s just the devil’s share. When life evens itself out and every bad guy gets what’s coming to em’ . . . it’s one of the few balancing things life really offers.”
Gabriel Church has done a bad, bad thing . . . and normally that doesn’t bother him too much. But everything changed when he met Christian Maxwell. Chris became his unholy grail. The thing he sought more than any other treasure, yet still a priceless pearl beyond his reach. Nothing he does seems to solidify any prospect of them being able to remain together, to live that happily-ever-after story. Even if he were to make a promise to stop his killing in the name of God, it would still only be a salty futility to wet and tempt his lips.
Christian Maxwell discovered a damaged soul inside Church, with a goodness plumbed somewhere below the visible surface. He saw pain shadowing his killer like some trailing footprint left moist in the sand. But he failed to recognize each victim, or the costs of every action the fugitive took for granted. He simply pushed those faceless victims to the dark recesses of his mind, hiding them from plain view as if they were discarded things, recollections intentionally forgotten.
The one thing Church knows with certainty is the writer is the only person who really knows him, and the only man other than himself who possibly understands where they are both headed. But life is about to get more twisted and dangerous. It begins with a backwards Deputy Sheriff and that same ill-fated chance that always prevented him from slowing down his pace or finding a peaceful place to rest with Chris Maxwell by his side.
Looking at the man from across the room, one would never have imagined how dangerous he actually was. The serial killer was hot and threatening in his own physical way, but there seemed to be a sympathetic kindness scratching below the surface of those mirror-like pupils of his. At times they looked bluish, while other times they appeared to be color of industrial slate. But in that instant, they reminded the deputy of humid childhood summers and seeing a cool slab of concrete in the shade beckoning him to rest upon it.
He had been drawn like a magnet after meeting the man he only knew by the name Carl Whiting. And from the first second they spoke, he found himself wavering under the killer’s impressive build and mischievous crooked smile. He hadn’t known at the time, but the name Carl Whiting was only an alias. Nor did he know that he was meeting a killer who’d claimed a multitude of victims over several years and many miles of this vast country. He only knew there was something unique about his country drawl and those sinful eyes that hinted with sexual tension and risk.
Facing Gabriel Church alone in a room without backup would be intimidating to anyone, to say the least. Even the weight of Deputy Corso’s holstered sidearm didn’t seem to offer him much security. The killer strangely didn’t appear anything but relaxed and surprisingly at peace with himself.
“You know I kinda like the idea of being hunted,” the killer said quietly. “It sort of makes my dick hard, as if you couldn’t tell.”
As he said that, Gabriel readjusted himself in his chair, shifting slightly and opening his legs wider apart. The deputy could see that even concealed under his faded blue Levi’s there was a sizable bulge exposed that indicated he’d been telling the truth. The killer’s smile hadn’t evaporated once since they’d begun talking, and it made the officer think it was intended as his own challenge, daring the deputy to make his move as was expected that he would.
Rodd lives in Dallas, TX and can be reached through his web presence at RODDCLARK.COM.
He is interested in the M/M Mystery, Romance and Thriller genres, but has varied interests and enjoys many different types of books. With a dark and distinctively disturbing voice, he creates characters which are flawed yet intriguing; such as the Main Character of Gabriel Church in his Romantic Fiction “Rubble and the Wreckage” and “Torn and Frayed.”
Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/Rodd-Clark/e/B00KGDSYSQ/
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