Joel was certain he’d misheard him. “Sir?”

“I said take off your fucking shirt.”

So, Joel thought: this was how they happened, the stories you always hear about on the news. He fumbled at the hem of his shirt. His fingers had gone numb.

Flash.

Grissom shook his head. “No, no. Look like you want it.”

Joel didn’t have to ask the man what he meant. He didn’t hesitate. Joel thought, at that moment, that he would do anything he was asked if it meant he could make it out of this gully alive. He swallowed a retch, poked out his mouth in a pout. He made the face that would later fall out of newspapers all over town.

Flash.

“Better. Now your belt.”

Flash.

“Now the pants. All the way. Over the shoes, goddammit.”

Flash.

“Give me that face again. Perfect.”

Flash.

“Now the briefs.”

“Please, sir—”

“Now.”

Joel pulled down his briefs. A cold breeze ran through his bare legs.

“Pull them loose.” Grissom moved his free hand from his gun to the front of his pants. He squeezed. Flash.

Joel tugged down his frigid balls.

“If you start crying you’re a dead man. Get it hard. Christ, boy, look like you want it.”

Joel wondered if there was something in store for him tonight that might be worse than death. In his head he could still hear Troy’s truck, rumbling away.

“Turn around. Hands on the wall. Bend over.”

Flash. Flash. Flash. Grissom approached and lowered himself on his haunches. Joel could feel the man’s wet breath on the cheeks of his ass. He shuddered when he felt Grissom’s thumb rest, briefly, in their cleft.

“That one’s a beauty,” Grissom said, his voice trembling with something like awe. “Like the button on a navel orange.”

Joel heard something spatter across the leaves between his feet.

Grissom stayed crouched behind him a long time. Joel stood perfectly still. He didn’t dare to breathe.

Finally Grissom cleared his throat, rose, zipped up his fly.

“Hands behind your back, son.”

Joel didn’t move.

“I said give me your fucking hands.”

“Why?”

“Because I have a goldarn arrest to make, that’s why. Lordy, just look at the sight of you.” Grissom laughed. He leaned his bulky frame against Joel’s bare back to grab the boy’s wrists.

“We had a deal!”

“A what?” The cuffs bit Joel’s skin. Grissom gave them a tug. “Let’s get you to the station—are you gonna walk or do I need to drag you?”

Joel stumbled on the way up the stairs—had the ground quaked or had his mind just departed his body?—and nearly fell back into the dark. He couldn’t help it. He was crying so hard he could hardly see.

His tears all but choked him when he was pressed naked into the squad car, when the door was slammed, when Grissom lowered his bulk into the seat ahead of him with a spicy burp. Joel couldn’t stop shaking on the cold vinyl seat. He saw eyes in the trees, watching him with a smile.