Free Reaper by Edward Kendrick Page B

Nine
     
     
     
    Sunday morning, Zack and Dallas slept in as usual. When the bright sunlight hitting the bed finally woke them, they made slow love, Zack savoring the fact that they could. Then they dressed and went downstairs to eat lunch.
    Zack studied Dallas as they ate. He knew something was on his lover’s mind. Something that, he thought, had to do with the fact that Dallas would be working days starting tomorrow.
    It wasn’t until they were rinsing dishes and putting them in the dishwasher that Zack finally asked, “Do you want to talk?”
    “Yes,” Dallas replied. “But not here. Let’s take a walk along the trail.”
    Zack smiled a bit. “That bad?”
    “Not bad. At least, I don’t think so.” Dallas dried his hands then went to get their jackets, handing Zack his when he got back.
    They left the yard through the back gate, locking and arming the security box on it. The day was warm but there was a cool breeze, presaging the arrival of fall in a few weeks. After walking for a quarter of a mile, greeting a few of their neighbors who were also taking advantage of the trail for a Sunday walk or jog, Dallas veered off onto a side path that led to a small pond.
    When they got there, he picked up a stone, skipping it across the water. “Still got it,” he crowed softly.
    “Dallas…” Zack said, coming up beside him. “You’re avoiding whatever the subject is.”
    “Not really. I’m just trying to find the best way to approach it.”
    “Try directly?”
    Dallas nodded, turning to look at him. “I want to help, when you’re out as Reaper.”
    “No way. First off—”
    “If you say it’s not safe, remember I’m a cop. I’m probably better able to protect myself than you are, which is saying something.”
    “That wasn’t what I was going to say. I know you can. It’s the fact that you are a cop that presents a problem. People in the Uptown district know you, including some of the SOBs I hunt down. It’s the same reason I didn’t want you involved looking for the johns who are trying to abduct the kids out there selling themselves. What if someone we go after recognizes you? Your career will go down the tubes.”
    “People are used to seeing me in uniform.” Dallas smiled wryly. “Hell, I walk into a store in street clothes and all I get is this ‘I think I know him from somewhere but…’ look most of the time.”
    “That doesn’t negate my argument,” Zack told him.
    “They don’t recognize you.”
    “I don’t work in the Uptown. Besides which, even if I did, they’d see me in a suit and tie and… Okay, I’m sort of defeating my argument, saying that.”
    Dallas grinned. “Yeah, you are.” He rested his hands on Zack’s hips. “So what do you think?”
    “I think it’s a stupid idea. But, I guess there’s some merit to it.”
    “It can’t be both,” Dallas said.
    “Oh? It’s stupid because you’d be endangering yourself. It has merit since with two of us out there we could scare the shit out of an attacker when we find one and hopefully he’d run rather than facing both of us. And if there’s more than one…”
    “We’re one-on-one with them instead of the way you do it, trying to take one out before the other one can get to you. That way”—he tapped Zack’s shoulder—“there’s less of a chance of you getting hurt again. Next time a punk’s knife might do a lot more damage, or they could have a gun.”
    “ That I’ve never run into.”
    “Doesn’t mean it won’t happen.”
    “You’re not to carry,” Zack said firmly.
    “I’ll have a knife, the way you do.”
    “All right.” Zack suddenly smiled, realizing Dallas had talked him into letting him come along. “You’re good.”
    Dallas gave him an innocent look. “It’s my Irish charm.”
    Zack snorted. “You’re about as Irish as I am.”
    “I’ll have you know me great-grandfather came over from the auld country,” he replied with a very fake Irish lilt.
    “And mine came from…