South America

Sitting on the veranda of a small villa, Bud was totally oblivious to the spectacle view that surrounded him. All his attention was focused on some documents that had just arrived by mail. Reading the papers, he could feel his blood pressure rising.

A month had passed since he had found Exley at the Victory Motel. With the help of Cooper, they had gotten themselves out of LA and eventually out of the country. They all knew that the torture of Ed had been a warning. There was no other option but to flee. Flee or be killed.

Once safely in South America Bud had had plenty of time to reflect while he cared for the other man. The conversation he had with Cooper the day Ed had been tortured at the Victory Motel still nagged at him. The Captain and Ed had been facing each other when he had buried his switchblade in Dudley's calf. So how was it that Smith had been shot in the back?

Bud called Cooper for one last favor and Cooper, happy to oblige because then his indebtedness to the lunatic cop would be over. With his connections Cooper was able to get an eyewitness' account when the cops arrived at the Victory Motel. Both Exley and Smith were found outside the motel with Smith dead on the ground from a gunshot wound to the back. Trying to envision what had happened and only coming up with one answer. Ed hadn't shot Dudley right away. He hadn't cared that the man who just took three bullets for him was lying on the floor dying.

"What came in the mail?" Cautiously coming out the door to step out on the terrace, Exley carefully kept his distance. Since arriving in South America, Bud had become cold and aloof. Ed was conscientiously cared for but with a detachment that confused and saddened him.

"Verification."

"Verification?"

Picking up another piece of paper as Bud had also asked Cooper to look into O'Malley and see if there was any link between him and the death of Ed's partners. "It seems that O'Malley was the one behind your partners' deaths and your. . .torture. In fact Coop says that the atmosphere in LA is tense. No one is happy with the LAPD now. So they're being pressured to explain the deaths of three of their police officers. Looks like their might be a Grand Jury investigation in the works. And O'Malley is the one they're looking at."

"But O'Malley doesn't have enough pull to sweep those officers' deaths under the rug like they were? He can't be working alone. There's got to be more involved, including someone in the upper echelon."

"Popular theory is that the Higher Ups looked the other way because they were not opposed to having you disgraced in some way."

"WHAT! Three of their police officers are murdered and they turn a blind eye? I don't believe. . . ."

"Grow up Exley! The Higher-Ups don't give a damn about the men. They never have and they never will. They only care about their image, public opinion, and currying favor with money and politics. You and I were a danger to them because we knew one of their dirty little secrets. We knew the about Dudley Smith. We knew about their little cover up. We knew. . . ."

"I was the one who figured out the cover up of Dudley Smith." Ed was now sitting on a chair away from where Bud was sitting. He stared down at his hands.

A scornful laugh as Bud stood up. "Yeah Exley. Your first priority has always been to look out for your career."

"All the good it did me." A sad mutter as the former Lieutenant continued to look miserably at his hands. Looking up he met the flinty hard glare of the other man. The air was thick with tension and Ed was at a loss to know the cause.

"Gonna go back to the States." Bud announced his recently made decision.

"We're going back to. . . ?"

"I'm going back. You can do what you what. The villa is paid for and there's. . .there's plenty of money. I would recommend that you stay here. Even if O'Malley ends up being put away, like you said, there are others in on this."

"Bud." Despite all the warning signs that White was giving off, Ed couldn't help but follow him inside.

A hostile figure turned to stare at him causing him to avert his gaze. "Bud. . . ." He didn't even know what he wanted to say. "Bud. . .I'm sorry. . .sorry that you. . .that your life was so. . . ." About to say disrupted but then stopped himself. That didn't exactly seem like the appropriate word.

"Sorry! The golden boy is sorry!" A snort of disgust. "Should mark this day on my fucking calendar." Turning to walk away again before he totally lost control.

"BUD" Ed reached out a hand to touch a shoulder. "Please. What is going on?"

It was the physical contact that did it. Judas' touch. But still one that inflamed Bud's blood. Blood up. Control gone.

The smaller, still convalescing Exley was no match for the bigger, out-of-control White as he was thrown on the floor. "FUCKING TRAITOR!" Clothes easily ripped off as all Ed wore were shorts and a tee shirt. In the privacy of the villa that's all that was needed because of the heat. Instinctively curling himself up in a ball to protect his still healing genital area.

White opened his pants and pulled out an already hardened cock. He was his father's son whether he liked it or not. Violence excited him. Spitting on his hand he stroked himself a few times, before jabbing spit covered fingers into Exley. Running his fingers around the sphincter ring before positioning himself and pushing in. Strong, brutal thrusts as he pulled the slighter man against him.

"Soo Exley. What did you and Captain Smith talk about while I laid on the floor bleeding to death?"

Body jolting from the hard hip drives of the other man, Ed found he couldn't speak, couldn't answer. Pain and pleasure were coursing through him, becoming so entwined that he couldn't tell where the pain ended and the pleasure began.

The physical act of fucking was an outlet for Bud's anger as he began moving faster and harder. Thrusting with a wild abandonment until he felt himself start to spew his seed into the other man. Groaning he clutched Ed to him tighter.

Despite the fact that Bud's actions bordered on rape, Ed couldn't help but moan and push his ass back into the cock that was assaulting him. This was Bud White. Brutal, violent and out of control. And Ed loved him for what he was.

Pumping out the last of his cum, Bud tightened his arms around Ed. Despite his anger, he didn't want to let the other man go. "Cooper mailed me a copy of the official autopsy report for Dudley Smith. He died from a gunshot wound in the back." Speaking quietly into an ear. "You want to tell me what happened?"

An automatic twitch of his sphincter muscle as Bud pulled out of him caused Ed to give a small shout of pain. He was sore back and front now.

"Well?" Hearing Ed's cry of pain, Bud withdrew himself, and checked for blood. None. No real damage done.

Dropping his head to the floor, Ed relived those moments when he and Dudley had faced each other with a seriously wounded Bud on the floor. They were always in his head. They never went away. Causing guilt and shame. "I hesitated. I didn't kill him at first."

Burrowing his face in the back of Ed's neck, Bud still didn't want to let the other man go. And he couldn't understand why. "I had just saved your ass twice. . .no, make that three times. And you HESITATED?"

Shamefaced, Ed confessed. "I was still. . .still thinking about my career. Trying to decide if. . .we heard the sirens and went outside. Dudley told me to hold my badge up so they would know I'm a policeman. He then began walking in front of me, and that's when I made my decision."

"Exley!" A growl as his anger flared again.

"Bud." Twisting his body so that he was laying on his back, Ed wanted eye contact. "I've never forgotten my actions that night. I feel guilt every time I look at you, especially when I see your physical scars. I apologize to you. But what goes around, comes around. Since the Victory Motel, my life has just gone down the toilet."

Letting Ed go Bud rolled over on his back, looking at the ceiling, not saying anything.

Minutes went by. Resigned, Ed now knew why Bud was leaving. "Are you leaving immediately, or in a day or two, or what?" He asked sadly as he started to get up off the floor.

Reaching up and grabbing an arm, Bud pulled Ed back down. "Doesn't matter when I leave, because I'll just come back. Can't ever walk away from you for good. I'm a bad ass fool."

Resting his head on a strong chest, Ed felt a warm sensation spread through him. "I can't undo what was done, but I would like to make it up to you somehow. How can I make amends?"

Stroking his partner's head, Bud contemplated for a moment. "By agreeing to be mine. Promise that you'll stay with me forever."

**

Epilogue

Los Angeles Examiner headline:

Sergeant James O'Malley, 33 was found dead by a self-inflicted bullet wound to the head. Sergeant O'Malley had been a policeman for the Chicago police department before coming to serve with the LAPD.

Internal Affairs of the LAPD had been investigating O'Malley . . . .

"You know what this means, don't you?" Grabbing a towel to dry himself, Bud interrupted Exley who was reading the newspaper. Bud had just gotten back from a three-week trip to the States. Before jumping into the shower to clean off the travel grime, he had handed Ed a two-week-old newspaper. "Means we can go back to the States. O'Malley's dead. Don't have to be looking over our shoulders for him. And the fucking LAPD doesn't care about us either as long as we stay out of California. They're just happy to cover everything up without any shit hitting them."

Looking up at the man drying himself off in the shower, Exley heard a warning bell go off in his head. "We know that O'Malley was not working alone in this operation. He had cohorts. All of them wanting revenge against me for killing Dudley Smith. For cutting off their money supply." The corrupt cops that Dudley Smith had recruited had all been reaping fine financial perks from the operation that the now dead Captain had been running. "They're not dead. They'll still be after me."

"Naww." Rubbing the towel over his face and hair, Bud gave Ed a grin. "I don't think anyone is going to be bothering you anymore."

"What makes you say that?" Standing up, he wondered about Bud's confidence. His certainty in this matter.

"The paper doesn't tell you the 'whole' story, thanks to the LAPD again. Just point the finger at O'Malley and have him die conveniently of suicide. Tied up nice and neat without any of them looking bad."

"Bud! Why did you say that O'Malley died conveniently of suicide? And what whole story isn't the paper telling me? And what is the LAPD covering up?" Suspiciously eyeing White.

Bud looked up from drying his legs. Their eyes met. "O'Malley didn't die of suicide. The LAPD is just saying that because there's no bad press for them if some 'bad' cop decides to end it all. In fact they probably sighed in relief when they found his dead body. No Grand Jury investigation. No dirty details being revealed."

"How do you know that O'Malley didn't commit suicide?"

"Oh. . .he did die from a gunshot to the head, but he also had burn marks all over his body and when his dead carcass was found, there were definitely body parts missing."

Stunned, Ed opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

Grinning wickedly, Bud stepped out of the shower to stand next to Ed. "Trust me when I say that no one will be coming anywhere near you. After seeing O'Malley's body, all of Dudley's sons of bitches are probably pissing in their pants somewhere." Wrapping his rolled up towel around Ed's neck, pulling him closer. "Didn't know who they were fucking with, but they do now."

****

Finis

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