It's The Weekend. Time To Dive Into A Good Book!

6/20/2025

Forge pointed to a flashing light on the floor at Blair’s feet. “Hand me that.”

“Can I do it? Please. There has to be some perks for being the soulmate of a real detective.”

Blowing out a breath, Forge pushed the car to a faster speed. “Fine. Just this once, you turn it—”

“Got it,” Blair said. He rolled down the window and flipped the switch as the light adhered to the car roof with a magnet.

“Here.” Forge twisted the computer screen to face Blair. “Make yourself useful and give me directions. That red dot is where we’re headed.”

Blair barely had a chance to glance at the map on the screen when he realized they were a few car lengths from a side road that was a short cut. “Here, right. Turn right. Now.”

Forge swore and spun the steering wheel, and Blair looked behind them when the car’s tires squealed. A cloud of dust and debris billowed out in their wake. Forge glared at Blair.

“What? It’s my first time. Cut me some slack.” Blair pointed to a short road. “That’s the one.”

Forge fished his phone out and handed it to Blair while he parked. “You see anything… anything that looks suspicious, hit one. That’s Stewie’s direct line. And keep the doors locked.” Then he spoke into the radio, saying that an ambulance was needed, this victim wasn’t dead.

In the next instant, Forge was out of the car, slamming the door shut and moving at hyper speed across the short span of sandy ground and sparse grass to what looked like a young man. He was lying on the ground a few yards from a cliff that dropped to the lake. His arms twitched, his head lolled to the side, and white foam drooled from his mouth while his legs jerked spastically. His feet were pushing along the ground with enough force to leave marks.

Forge slid onto the ground beside the man. The first thing he did was grab the guy’s hand and hold on. He leaned over slightly, brushed his other hand over the man’s forehead, and Blair saw his lips move. He realized the car must be soundproofed, because they were close enough that Blair should have been able to hear Forge’s words.

An awful feeling of despair, followed by compassion and helplessness, slammed into Blair with enough power to make him struggle for deep breaths. He scooted across the seat to the driver’s side, transfixed by the scene unfolding.

Something moved near the edge of the cliff, drawing Blair’s attention. Forge’s head snapped up and turned in that direction. He’d seen it too. Blair’s breathing nearly stopped when it hit him. It was the man who’d followed him earlier that day, and he was running straight at Forge’s car. He was fast enough that Blair got the idea a human might not see more than a darkened portion of the surrounding air as it whooshed past.

Blair fumbled for the phone and at the same time restarted the car, silently thanking Forge for leaving the keys in the ignition. He dropped the phone when the man was close enough to pound on the passenger window. Blair got the car in gear and pulled away, circled around, and stopped next to Forge.

Forge was on his feet in a flash, and Blair swore he looked as if he’d suddenly bulked up. Blair put the car in park and shoved the door open, immediately hearing sirens. The man bolted away.

“That’s the guy!” Blair shouted, pointing.

“That’s not how you described him. That’s the man I…. Shit.” Forge dropped down beside the wounded man again when he made gurgling sounds and began gasping. “Hey, hey, it’s okay, we’ll get you help. They’re coming. Hold on.” He was holding the man’s hand again and pressing his other hand to the man’s shoulder.

The man’s back arched; his eyes went wide, then rolled back into his head. His entire body jerked and more foam, this time pink-tinged, bubbled from his nose and mouth.

“No, don’t… crap.” Forge sat back on his heels when the man went completely still. He let go of him, sighed, and dropped his chin to his chest for a few seconds. Forge massaged the back of his neck, then looked up at Blair. “Would you give me the radio?” He leaned close enough to take the radio when Blair stretched the cord as far as it would go. “Send Dr. Coate’s team,” was all he said, and then he reached in and replaced the radio. He eyed Blair, his expression turning critical. “You all right?”

“I… he… I’ve never… is he dead?” Blair’s voice cracked, and he looked away, embarrassed.

The ambulance was just coming into sight even though Blair had been able to hear it since he’d opened the car door. Forge stood up, blocking Blair’s view of the body and reaching into the car; he brushed one hand over Blair’s head and fitted his fingers around the back of Blair’s neck.
Forge pressed a gentle kiss to Blair’s forehead and said in a low voice, “Yes. I’m sorry.”

“You deal with this stuff a lot?” Blair asked and tried to relax. Forge nodded, and Blair had to ask another question, “How?”