Maxwell: Not Without Guilt (Phoenix Club)

MAXWELL 1

Not Without Guilt

By CJ Bishop

whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief

quotations in a book review. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to

real persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.

For questions and comments about this book, please contact us at Info@RascalHearts.com

Cover Art: Book Cover by Design

Published By: Rascal Hearts

Prologue

“What Came Before”

♦

“We shouldn’t be doing this in the house,” Max insisted, but didn’t have the will to resist the boy’s
hands as they rubbed up his chest, gripped fists of his shirt, and tugged him towards the bed.

Horatio leaned up close until his mouth touched Max’s lips. “My dad isn’t here. No one is going

to catch us.” Though two years younger than Max, the kid was already his height, and he suspected he
might eventually grow a bit taller than him. Horatio grinned and grabbed Max’s lower lip gently
between his teeth. “Don’t be a scaredy cat.”

“You’re a brat,” Max growled but smiled anyway and wrapped his arms around him, kissing him

with undeniable hunger, then fell onto the bed with him.

Chuckling, Horatio’s mahogany eyes glowed. “But a cute, sexy brat, right?” He cocked an

eyebrow. “That is what you meant to say, isn’t it?”

“Shut up and kiss me,” Max groaned and didn’t wait as he grabbed himself another taste of the

young man’s mouth. Horatio moaned and shifted beneath him, working his legs up around Max’s hips.
His hands slipped under the back of his shirt and caressed his warm muscles, then he pushed his
fingertips beneath the waistband of Max’s jeans, teasing the upper swell of his rump.

“I’ll never get tired of this.” Horatio’s voice dropped to a near whisper, the playfulness in his

eyes fading out as warmth and love seeped in to take its place.

Max combed his fingers through the boy’s dark hair. “What?” he murmured and kissed his face.
“This. Us,” he said, “Making love to you.”
“Well,” Max smiled, pulling some of the play back into his voice as his eyes moved over

Horatio’s handsome face slowly, lovingly. His fingers teased the young man’s ebony strands. “Let’s
hope you don’t get tired of it, since...” He hesitated. Was he really ready to say this? Horatio was just
shy of seventeen. Wait till tomorrow. Tell him on his birthday; it’ll be more special, more
memorable. Max smiled and shrugged, saving what he truly wanted to say until the next day. “Since
you’re stuck with me.”

Horatio grinned and kissed him. “I can live with being stuck with you.” His legs tightened, and he

bumped his crotch against Max. “And being stuck by you.”

“Oh god,” Max groaned and laughed. “You are a dirty little boy.”
Rubbing his hands up and down Max’s back beneath his shirt, the corner of Horatio’s mouth

jerked a little. “Would you want me any other way?”

“Never,” Max chuckled and burrowed his face into the kid’s neck, making him squeal with

laughter and pretend to resist.

“I love you, Max.” The words puffed out on a short, soft laugh. It wasn’t the first time Horatio had

spoken them, but every time felt like the first time. A warmth spread through Max’s heart and out to
encompass his body.

He pushed up on his elbows and gazed down into Horatio’s face. “I love you too.”
“How much?” Horatio murmured and continued to caress Max’s back.
“What do you mean how much?” Max smiled. “You know how much I love you.”

“I know.” Horatio let his head sink down into the pillow as he stared up at Max. “When you start

college, you’re not going to stay there, are you?” he asked anxiously. “I mean, in a dorm room and
all?”

Max sighed and kissed him between the eyes. “I already told you I’m not staying in a dorm room.

Although,” he smiled mischievously, “imagine how hot and wild our sex would be when I came home
on the weekends, after being apart all week.”

“No,” Horatio nudged his arm and copped a mock pout. “Our sex is hot and wild enough. I want

you here, all the time. I’d go nuts without you.” Horatio squeezed Max in his arms and pushed his hips
up to him. “My nuts would go nuts without you.”

“Fuck.” Max dropped his forehead against Horatio’s chest and laughed. “You’re a nutcase

already.”

Horatio chuckled and nodded, then kissed Max’s head. “Promise you’ll stay at home and just

drive to college.”

“Yes,” Max raised his head and pecked Horatio on the lips. “It’s not that far away, I can easily

drive.”

“Maybe you could get an apartment,” Horatio suggested, “and I could come live with you. Then

we wouldn’t have to try to dodge my dad.”

The truth was, Max had been considering that very thing. But he just wasn’t sure if Xavier Kaplan

would allow his son to move out while he was still in high school. Horatio’s private school had strict
rules of attendance, and if Horatio began to miss classes, or entire days, he would be turned out. Not
that Horatio would care; he hated that school and the kids in it. Max had entered Kingsley Prep before
Horatio, but because he hadn’t been born into wealth, and had in fact come from a “common” family,
the kids had treated him like white trash. Horatio, on the other hand, had been accepted with open
arms when he’d entered the school, what with him being a Kaplan. He could have soared to the top of
the popularity ladder...had he cut Max loose. But even then, he had loved Max, though that was before
either of them truly understood they were “in love.” Horatio had basically given them the finger, told
them to fuck off, and clung to Max instead.

“I don’t think Xavier would let you move in with me,” Max told him. “You know how strict he is

about your schooling. If he thought you might start sloughing off, he’d never let you out of the house.”

“I would still go to school,” Horatio insisted.
“I know that,” Max smiled, “because I’d make sure your ass was in class every damn day. But I

don’t know that Xavier would trust me to do so.”

“We could ask,” Horatio suggested hopefully.
Max laughed softly and brushed his fingers through the young man’s hair. “I said I would still live

here. We’re not going to be separated.” He kissed his mouth. “Be satisfied.”

“But it would be so cool to have our own place,” he moaned, grinning. He slipped his hands

between them and unfastened Max’s pants, then slid down the zipper. “We could go around naked all
the time.” He kissed Max’s throat and shoved his hand down inside his pants. Max groaned and
shifted, giving him more room. “We could dance naked in our own living room, or bedroom, or on the
fucking kitchen table if we wanted to.” He squeezed Max’s cock and rubbed.

“All that sounds wonderful,” Max panted, “but we both know your dad wouldn’t let you move

out.” Horatio started to say more, and Max crushed his mouth in a passionate kiss, his hands suddenly
coming to life and stripping the younger boy of his shirt.

Horatio moaned loud when Max worked open his pants and began shoving them down in a hurry.

Max latched onto his throat, sucking hard as Horatio’s trousers slipped off his hips. The guy was

instantly burning up with passion and need as he worked erratically at Max’s jeans, pushing them off
his ass.

“Hurry, Max,” he whimpered, breath short and clipped. “Fuck me.”
His own hunger suddenly burning him up, Max dragged Horatio’s pants down his legs and yanked

them off his feet, chucking them away across the room somewhere. He dipped down, taking his hard
member in his mouth, sucking forcefully.

“Uuh!” Horatio grabbed his head and clawed Max’s hair while Max tried to kick his own pants

the rest of the way off. When they caught around his ankles and didn’t want to come loose, he ignored
them and went about stroking Horatio’s cock with his mouth. He squeezed the boy’s firm ass cheeks
and lifted him a little, going at him with more urgency.

“Uh, fuck! Max! Don’t make me come yet! Fuck me first!”
Max brought him to the brink of ejaculation then pulled off before he could burst. He wiped his

mouth, grinning, then turned around and grabbed at his pants, dragging them off his feet.

“You love to fucking torture me,” Horatio panted hard, his member rigid and dripping juice down

the shaft.

“I do,” Max winked. When his pants were gone, he crawled back up over the top of him and

kissed him hard. “But I always make up for it, don’t I?”

“Make up for it now,” Horatio whined and flung his legs up around Max’s body.
“Your wish,” Max kissed him, “is my command.” He coated his stiff cock with saliva and entered

the guy not too slowly; Horatio loved it when he went in rather swiftly.

“Oh fuuuck!” Horatio yelled loudly, and Max clamped a hand over his mouth.
“Your dad might not be here,” he panted, voice low, “but the help is still here.”
Horatio jerked his mouth free and gasped, “I don’t care. Just fuck me.” Horatio’s enthusiasm and

pure need for Max overwhelmed him, but it was the greatest feeling in the world. Horatio made him
feel like the only man alive. From the moment they had first met – when Horatio was just eight years
old and Max was ten – the boy had had eyes only for him. They might not have understood it then, but
Max understood now that they had loved each other at first sight.

“God, baby, I love you so much,” Max groaned and pushed into him deeper, harder. Horatio clung

to  him,  hugging  him  tight,  reminding  Max  of  their  first  time.  The  experience  had  been  so
overwhelming  physically  and  emotionally  that  they  had  both  cried.  It  had  almost  been  too  much  for
their hearts to handle. And from that moment on, they had been like air to each other, barely able to
breathe when they were apart even for a few hours. They had been in school together at that time, and
it had taken every ounce of sheer will not to hold hands, touch, and kiss every chance they got. But
they  kept  their  love  secret,  not  so  much  because  they  were  worried  about  being  made  fun  of,  but
because their love was so special they didn’t want to share it with anyone else. They wanted it all for
themselves. Their beautiful little secret.

When Max had graduated, he found himself waiting anxiously through each day for Horatio to get

home from school, just so he could touch him and kiss him. Nearly every day after school they would
sneak off and make love.

Now, with Horatio’s warm, eager body beneath him, surrounding him, and the boy’s beautiful

face a picture of sweet sexual ecstasy, Max knew that what he wanted to say to him tomorrow – was
right. His heart swelled and threatened to burst at the thought of the look on Horatio’s face when Max
proposed to him. They couldn’t go through with it until Horatio was eighteen, but Max couldn’t wait
that long to ask him.

Horatio’s perfect body writhed beneath Max, conforming to Max’s movements, as the boy moaned

and cried out his love for Max.

Tears welled up, and Max pushed them back, swallowing thickly as he gazed down at the boy

who would forever hold his heart.

Tomorrow couldn’t get there soon enough.

♦

Max knocked once on the office door and when Xavier called him in, he entered. The man didn’t
often schedule one on one talks with Max, unless it involved his schooling. He expected this had to do
with college.

“You wanted to speak with me?”
“Sit down,” Xavier told him. To the untrained ear, one might think the man was unhappy with

Max. But Max had been in the Kaplan house long enough to know that this was Xavier Kaplan’s
typical tone.

Sitting in the leather chair before the man’s desk, Max wasn’t too anxious about the purpose of

this meeting. In fact, he had a hard time even focusing, as Horatio would be home soon and Max
planned to propose to him before his party that night. He fingered the outline of the ring in his pocket,
his heart pounding with excitement; he couldn’t wait to slip it on Horatio’s finger. A smile played at
the corner of his mouth as his eyes grew distant with thoughts of just how he would ask the young man
to be his husband, to just be his forever.

“Max?” Xavier’s crisp voice cut into his reverie. “Are you listening to me?”
“Huh?” Max cleared his throat and scooted up straighter in his chair. “Uh, yes.”
Xavier looked at him doubtfully but went on with what he was saying – whatever that was,

because Max had not been listening. “I want to talk to you about college. I don’t think the University
of Maine is the college for you.”

“Why?” Max frowned.
Standing at the window, Xavier clasped his hands against the small of his back and turned away.

“I was thinking Harvard. You have a lot of potential, Max. Might as well go with the best school.”

Max shifted anxiously. “The University of Maine is fine with me.”
Sighing, Xavier turned around. “You wouldn’t want to go to Harvard?”
A twist of pain knotted Max’s gut. “Harvard is in Massachusetts. I...” Horatio’s face rose in his

mind; he hadn’t even wanted Max to take a dorm room at the Maine University...he would lose it if
Max went farther away. “I was kind of hoping to stay closer to home.”

“Why?” The look Xavier gave him caused Max to squirm. Something behind the man’s eyes made

him increasingly uncomfortable.

“I...” Max stumbled on his words. What excuse could he give? “Well, it’s just, Horatio...”
“I know you two are close,” Xavier said, a sudden strain squeezing his words. “But Horatio has

to understand that you’re an adult now and you’ll be going out on your own, making a life for
yourself.” Xavier returned to his desk. “I’ve made some calls and secured your acceptance. You’ll be
leaving tomorrow morning so you can get there in time to settle in before classes start next week.”

“What?” Max stood up quickly. “Tomorrow?”Hhe shook his head. “I don’t want to go to Harvard,

sir. I want to stay here in Maine. Why can’t I?”

“Because I think you and Horatio need to spend some time apart,” Xavier replied with a sharp

edge to his voice.

Max stiffened. “Why would you say that?” Did he know about them?

Leaning back in his chair, though not really relaxing, Xavier stared at Max dully. “Yours and

Horatio’s relationship isn’t...healthy.”

“What?” Max’s heart pounded furiously. “What do you mean our relationship isn’t healthy?”
“I think the two of you are too close,” Xavier said. “Horatio needs other friends, besides just you.

Outside of school, he spends all his time with you.”

Max just looked at him, unsure how to respond. He sank back down into his chair. What he said

was true; Horatio didn’t hang out with anyone but Max. He didn’t like the kids at school, and he
didn’t have any friends there. But then, Horatio was pretty much the only one in Max’s life as well.
But they didn’t care. They liked being alone, being together – why was that unhealthy?

“You’ve become his crutch, Max.”
Max shook his head, fear needling his heart. “I-I don’t understand, sir. What do you mean his

crutch?”

The man sighed. “You remember how Horatio was when you first came here?” he asked. “His

mother had recently passed away. He was withdrawn, not speaking to anyone. It was as if he’d
locked himself into his own private world that no one else could get inside of.” He lifted his eyes and
looked at Max. “Until you came into our home. Something about you brought him out of that shell, out
of that mental isolation. You were good for him, Max. Then.” He shook his head. “But now, I realize
my mistake in allowing him to cling to you.”

Max stared at him. He didn’t know what the man was getting at, but the dread he was beginning to

feel told him it wasn’t good.

“He came out of his shell, Max,” Xavier said, “but only for you. He has no friends, no one he

associates with. It’s as if you’re the only person he is truly aware of.”

“He goes to school,” Max pointed out. “He has friends there.” Not true, of course.
“Does he?” Xavier leaned forward. “Why doesn’t he mention them? Why doesn’t he ever bring

them home?” He shook his head. “No. He goes to school, but he hasn’t made any friends. He has
become dependent on you, Max. Too dependent. And that’s not all.”

That’s not all? Max’s guts twisted. “What?”
“I think,” Xavier rubbed a slow hand over his mouth. “I think Horatio’s...affection...for you isn’t

normal.”

Max’s heart went into a frenzy. Xavier could see that? He and Horatio tried to be so careful

around the man. But even Max could see the way Horatio looked at him – at all times. The boy
couldn’t keep it out of his eyes. Max had learned to mask his emotions when in the presence of others,
but Horatio didn’t know how to do the same. His love for Max was an unstoppable force, and it
exploded in his eyes like fireworks.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Max lied.
Sliding his thumb across his lower lip thoughtfully, Xavier stared at Max and stated bluntly, “I

think Horatio is infatuated with you...romantically.”

The shock that spread across Max’s face was surely falsely interpreted by the man, as Max was

merely stunned that he had been so forthright about voicing the possibility. “You...” Max frowned,
unsure how to respond. “What?”

“I believe Horatio is gay,” Xavier admitted without blinking. Was he okay with that?
“And you think he’s...” Max felt trapped. Did he admit he knew it to be true? Or did he feign

ignorance in the matter? “You think he’s in love with me? Why?”

“It actually makes sense,” Xavier said without really answering Max’s question. “He was only

eight when he lost his mother, and it traumatized him. You were the first person with whom he felt

close after that, and he clung to you. He didn’t let himself explore other possibilities. Perhaps for fear
of being hurt.”

Other possibilities? Max frowned. “Do you think I’m the reason he’s gay?”
“Don’t misunderstand me, Max,” Xavier said. “I’m not laying blame here. But I do feel that if

Horatio had allowed himself to be open with others, rather than just you, then...”

“Then he might have a girlfriend now?” Max stared at him, a bit incredulously.
The man sighed. “I don’t know. But maybe he needs some time to himself to figure out who he is,

without you.”

The shakes grabbed at Max’s body. “Are you...are you making me leave?”
Xavier drove his hand through his hair. “I took you in, Max,” he said, “because you had no other

place to go. I gave you a good life, everything you could want or need. But you’re an adult now.
Horatio isn’t. And I need to do what I feel is in the best interest of my son.”

Max felt sick. Horatio would lose his mind. Max would lose his mind. This couldn’t be

happening. “Well...” Max swallowed hard, struggling to keep the tears out of his voice. “If I went to
Harvard, I could still come home on the weekends...couldn’t I?”

“Actually I think it would be best, for a while anyway, if you didn’t come around Horatio. These

feelings that he has for you, they need a chance to fade. And I am positive they will, once he realizes
he can be close to others as well.”

Max just stared at the floor.
“You don’t have to worry about money,” Xavier added, as if Max gave a fuck about money right

now. “I’ll pay for your college, as I was planning to do, and then you will have a trust fund to carry
you through as you build a career and a life for yourself. I’m not kicking you out, Max. I just want
what’s best for both you and Horatio.”

This is what’s best? The tears were there, filling his eyes. Xavier fell silent as Max struggled

with his emotions. He tried to blink back the tears, but instead they slipped out and rolled down his
cheeks. His face dropped into his hands and sobs shook him. He realized that his reaction was surely
puzzling to Xavier; he shouldn’t be this upset. But the man didn’t question him, simply stared at him in
thoughtful silence.

Max sniffed and wiped his face, trying to swallow his sobs. He couldn’t just walk out on Horatio

– he needed Horatio as much as Horatio needed him.

A long exhalation of breath seeped out of Xavier, and when he spoke this time, there was a slight

edge to his voice. “I was trying to do this delicately, Max,” he said, “but we’re both adults here, so I
suggest we just cut the shit.”

“What’re you talking about?” Max choked and dragged the back of his hand across his eyes.
“I saw you,” Xavier said bluntly.
“What?” Max stared at him through bleary eyes, heart kicking hard at his ribs. “Saw what?”
Xavier sighed hard, his eyes a storm of troubled emotions. “I saw you kiss Horatio,” he admitted.

“The other day, out back of the house. I saw you kiss him.”

A sudden dryness invaded Max’s throat as it worked silently, whatever words or excuse he might

have spoken sticking against the parched walls.

Releasing another slow, calculated breath, Xavier stared at him, face tight. “Please tell me it

hasn’t gone any further than that.”

He swallowed quickly three times before trying to speak, but still no words came out. Surely his

expression of fear and shock was enough to incriminate him.

“God dammit, Max,” Xavier hissed low and drove his hands through his hair, then gripped his

head as he stared at his desk. “What the fuck were you...” He sighed again and raised his head,
shaking it slowly. “How long?” he asked tightly. “How long has this been going on?”

“A...A few years,” Max whispered.
“A few years?” Xavier exclaimed with disbelief.
Max trembled. “I love him,” he blurted out.
“No,” Xavier stood up fast, a quick shake to his head as he waved his finger back and forth. “No.

You will end this now. Today. And tomorrow,” he shot a stern look at Max. “Tomorrow, you will be
on a plane to Harvard.”

Shaking, Max pushed up out of his chair, throat knotting. “I can’t leave him,” he trembled,

“Please. If you don’t want us together, in your house, then I’ll get an apartment. Horatio can stay with
me. I’ll make sure he still goes to school, that he graduates. I swear. Just please, don’t make me leave
him.”

Xavier was at the window again, hand gripping the back of his neck, head ducked. His entire

body was rigid with tension. “I’m sorry, Max. But we have an image to uphold.”

“What’re you saying?” Max choked. “You’re sending me away because you don’t want people to

know Horatio is gay? Are so fucking selfish that you would destroy your own son just to keep up
appearances?” Max choked on a sob and raked his finger through his hair. “How could you do this?
We love each other. I want to marry him.”

Xavier was in his face at a moment’s notice, brow furrowed with a hard frown, eyes smoldering.

“Get that out of your head,” he hissed, and his fist was suddenly clutching the front of Max’s shirt.
“Do you hear me?”

“No,” Max cried. “I love him. I won’t leave him just because you’re a fucking bigot!”
Xavier’s palm hit his face hard, stinging his eyes with tears. The man’s face was a mask of

desperation. “You will listen to me, dammit! You stay away from Horatio!”

“Why?” Max shouted. “Why do you care if he’s gay? There’s nothing wrong with him! Or me!”
“I don’t give a fuck that he’s gay!” Xavier exploded, and tears welled up suddenly.
Max retreated, staring at the man. Tears streaked Max’s face as streams began to roll down

Xavier’s cheeks. “Then why are you doing this?”

“Don’t push this, Max,” Xavier trembled.
“Tell me!”
“Don’t goddamn push it!” Xavier cried. “Just leave it alone!”
“Tell me!”

♦

“Max!” Horatio ran through the knee-high grass to where Max sat, legs drawn up and staring blankly
out across the pond. Max didn’t respond as he blinked quickly to try and hide his tears, but he could
still feel the wetness in his eyes.

Horatio’s arm caught him around the neck, and the boy tumbled to the ground, laughing, dragging

Max over on top of him. Horatio shifted beneath him and wrapped his arms and legs around Max’s
body, grinning. “Time to make this birthday a very happy birthday, if you know what I mean.” He
pushed his crotch up against Max. He was already hard and aching for Max to make love to him.

“Horatio-”
“Oh, get this,” he chuckled. “Mandy Pratt asked if she could be my date for my party tonight. Can

you believe it?” He laughed. “Fuck, even if I was into chicks, I wouldn’t date her. She’s such a stuck

up bitch.”

“Horatio...”
“I wish Dad wouldn’t throw a party,” Horatio went on. “They aren’t even birthday parties, more

like business parties. And he invites the kids from school. I don’t like any of them, they’re all pricks. I
just want to spend the rest of today alone with you.” He kissed Max. “All naked and sweaty. Sound
good to you?”

Max licked his lips slowly and forced a smile as his throat began to ache. “Yeah, it does.” He

couldn’t disguise the thickness in his voice, though he tried desperately. He had asked Xavier to let
him be the one to talk to Horatio, but now he didn’t know if he could. What the fuck was he supposed
to say?

“What’s wrong?” Horatio frowned as Max pulled out of his arms and sat up again, hugging his

knees. When Max didn’t answer right away, Horatio laughed anxiously. “Come on, man, you’re
freaking me out. What is it?”

His throat working, Max just stared at the water as it began to shimmer and blur. How could he do

this to him on his birthday? His lips pressed between his teeth, and the tears thickened.

“Max?” Horatio whispered, a sudden tremor in his voice. He rubbed Max’s knee then leaned

close and kissed his arm. “Come on, babe, you’re scaring me for real. What’s going on?”

Max looked at him, and tears were already in the boy’s eyes, worry squeezing his brow.

Horatio’s greatest fear was losing Max. Max knew this without him ever having to say it. “Horatio...”
Max touched his face and swallowed hard, tears sliding down his face. Horatio’s own tears
followed, and Max rubbed them away with his thumb.

“Max, stop it,” he choked softly. “You’re scaring me. Why’re you crying?”
“I need...” Max swallowed again, a sob catching in his throat. “I need to tell you something,

Horatio.”

The boy stared at him, real fear in his wet eyes. “It’s my birthday, Max...” His chin trembled.

“Don’t tell me something bad. Yesterday, you said you had something good to tell me today.”
Horatio pulled Max’s legs down and crawled into his lap, hugging his head, holding him tight. “Just
tell me the good thing, Max,” he whispered in his ear, words shaking. “Please.”

Max wrapped his arms around the boy and crushed him against his body, his face buried in his

neck. The ring pressed into his thigh through the thin fabric of his pocket, the metal like a hot coal
burning into his skin, the heat rushing up to sear his heart; it would never touch Horatio’s finger. He
could never know how close Max had come to making that proposal.

I can’t tell you the good thing, Horatio. Not today...not ever.

Chapter 1

“Restless Past”

♦

“Are you feeling okay?” Carl rolled onto his side and slid his hand up Max’s back.

Max sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed his face. “Yeah,” he rasped thickly. “Why?”
“It just seemed you weren’t having a very fitful sleep last night.” He scooted closer and kissed

Max’s lower back, then sat up and kissed the nape of his neck. “Did you have bad dreams?”

The worst, Max thought and leaned on his knees, staring at the carpet. He had woken with an ache

in his heart so painful that he’d wanted to jump out the window – convinced that the sudden, hard stop
at the bottom was the only thing that would eradicate it. But he couldn’t tell Carl that. He couldn’t tell
him about his dreams that weren’t really dreams, but memories. And he couldn’t tell him that, for the
last week, since he’d seen Horatio at the hospital – the guy refused to leave his thoughts. Maybe it
was that “something important” that he had wanted to tell Max which kept him there. Max had heard it
in his voice – it had been important. So much so that he had felt Horatio about to burst with the need
to tell him.

And then suddenly – it wasn’t important anymore? How could something become so unimportant

in such a short period of time?

Like how suddenly the “good thing” you had wanted to tell Horatio on his seventeenth

birthday wasn’t so “good” anymore?

“Max?”
Max licked his lower lip slowly. “No,” he lied. “I didn’t have any bad dreams. At least, none I

can remember. Maybe I was just restless because of the court thing today.”

Carl sighed and lay down on Max’s pillow, caressing the back of his fingers against Max’s bare

hip. “How do you think Abel is going to do?”

“I don’t know,” Max admitted. He pushed thoughts of Horatio away and focused on Abel. “Up

until now, it was all just preparation for the trial. Now he has to get up there on the stand and recount
in detail his experience at the orphanage, what Craig did to him.” He shook his head and released a
breath. “I know he’s over the nightmares, but I just hope this doesn’t bring them back. And Devlin,”
Max’s lips tightened, a different ache creeping in. “He has to sit there and listen to the love of his life
tell that horror story about the man’s own brother. It’s going to be fucking tough, on them both. And
then Savannah...”

“Are they going to put her on the stand too?” Carl scooted up again and looked at Max. “I mean, is

that necessary?”

“It might be,” Max murmured. “She was there. A witness to the things Craig did to Abel.”
“Fuck,” Carl breathed. “The shit some kids have to go through, it’s a miracle they even come out

of it with a sane mind. Thank God kids are a hell of a lot more resilient than people realize.”

Max nodded slowly. “Yeah,” he whispered. “And those two, they’re tough. But I still hate that

they have to dig it all up again. I hope it doesn’t cause adverse effects on Devlin and Abel’s
relationship.”

Leaning close, Carl kissed his neck. “I’m sure they’ll be fine. They love each other, for real.

Nothing is going to pull them apart.”

No love is impenetrable, Max thought sickly, flashes from the past snapping through his head.

Even when one was convinced it was.

“You said Abel has Horatio Kaplan’s attorneys trying his case?”
The mention of Horatio sent Max’s heart into a spin. Those dreams – memories – last night were

so real. He had been right back there again. “Yeah.”

“Is Horatio going to be there?” He asked the question casually, but Max didn’t miss the glitch in

his voice. Carl hadn’t been blind to the way he and Horatio had reacted to each other at the hospital
last week, though nothing had been said about it.

“Uh, yeah. I’m sure he will,” he said thickly. “Abel is real special to him. He would be there for

moral support, if nothing else.” He tried to control his racing heart, keep his breath leveled out. “Abel
needs all the support he can get.”

“I feel for those kids,” Carl murmured, “but I suppose the sooner they get to court, the sooner they

can get this over with and finally put it behind them.”

Max pushed his hands through his hair. “Yeah,” he whispered. He envied the ones who could put

their past to rest and move on. Max wished he could do the same, but it was hard when that “past”
met him at every turn, filled up his dreams. And rather than getting weaker over the course of time, it
seemed to be getting stronger.

He will get over it, and so will you. You will both move on, make good lives for yourselves, find

other  people  to  fall  in  love  with.  Max  stared  at  the  floor.  He  believed  Xavier  Kaplan  had  truly
convinced  himself  that  was  true.  That  with  enough  time  apart,  he  and  Horatio  would  let  go  of  each
other.  Max  wondered  what  the  man  thought  when  Horatio  didn’t  magically  become  “straight”  once
Max was gone. How many nights after Max had left had Xavier listened to his heartbroken son cry
himself to sleep? Every night, when Max had closed his eyes, he had heard Horatio’s cries, felt his
pain in his heart. Or maybe it had just been his own cries and his own pain he had been experiencing.

When Carl’s arms slid around him, he closed his eyes tight and covered the man’s hands with his

own. Just let it go, he told himself. Horatio has someone in his life now, and so do you. Just let the
past finally rest.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Carl whispered and kissed the curve of his neck. Fear tainted his

voice.

“Yeah,” Max rasped then cleared his throat. He twisted his head and kissed Carl on the mouth.

“I’m fine.” He stood up and swept his hand through his hair again. “I’m going to take a shower, then
get ready for court. I called in Riley to take your place at the club.” He looked at Carl as the man
leaned back on his elbows against the pillows, his beautiful nude body barely covered by the sheet. “I
would like for you to be there too.”

“Of course,” Carl nodded.
Max gazed at him a moment, nodded, then turned towards the bedroom door. He paused and

looked at Carl again, then smiled. “You want to wash my back?”

A slow smile curved Carl’s lips, and he left the bed. “I thought you’d never ask.”

♦

Horatio stared at his reflection as he fastened the tie without thinking about it. He looked through his
image, seeing Max’s face staring back at him rather than his own. He had tried to throw away the
documents and knew it was what he needed to do. But they were back in his safe. His fingers slowed

until he stood motionless, body tense. The merciless ache that had crawled into his heart the moment
he’d laid eyes on those papers now throbbed and pulsed at the thought of seeing Max today. He knew
he needed to get out of the country, away from Max before he lost what little strength of will he had
and went to the man, telling him everything. But he couldn’t leave yet. He had to be here for Abel.

“Do you think everything will go all right?” Seth appeared in the mirror behind him, dressed in a

navy blue suit Horatio had purchased for him while overseas. His black hair was combed with a
stylish wave, his green eyes holding Horatio’s stare. For a quick moment, he saw Max, and that ache
veined around his heart. The night before Max had left, the night of Horatio’s seventeenth birthday
party – he remembered like yesterday. Max had been upset all day, and that night, when Horatio had
tried to kiss him...Max had turned him away. Sent him away.

Tears started to burn, and Horatio swallowed thickly, blinking quickly. “I have some of the best

attorneys representing Abel.” He turned around. “Everything should go fine.” He absently
straightened the lapels of Seth’s suit. “You look very handsome.”

Seth smiled, but the uncertainty from the night at the hospital remained in his lovely eyes. “You

too.”

Horatio kissed him then rubbed his thumb across his cheek. “I’m glad you’re coming with me. It

won’t be easy having to watch Abel on the stand. He went through some real bad shit.” Horatio had
been honest with Seth about his time spent with Abel. The boy knew that Abel would always hold a
part of his heart. But it wasn’t Abel who put that fear in Seth’s eyes.

“Anyone who matters to you,” Seth said softly, “matters to me too.”
Kissing him warmly, Horatio murmured, “You’re too good for me, you know that?”
Seth fingered Horatio’s tie. “Are you suggesting I cut you loose and look elsewhere?” He smiled

and to some degree was just playing, but there was a note of seriousness behind his words.

“Oh, hell no,” Horatio chuckled low then kissed him again. “Don’t you dare.”
With a wavering smile on his lips, Seth slipped his arms up around Horatio’s neck and hugged

him. “As long as I’m what you want,” he whispered, “I’ll stay.”

Horatio wrapped his arms around the young man and pulled him tight against his body, kissing his

ear. “You are.”

Seth didn’t reply and held him tighter.

Chapter 2

“Dreaded Task”

♦

“Are you sure you’re up for this?” Cole asked doubtfully. Gabe’s movements were slow, sticky, as he
buttoned his shirt, and Cole took over. “Let me do this.” His fingers worked more smoothly, slipping
each tiny white button through the appropriate hole. He met Gabe’s stare; the man had only been out
of the hospital a couple days and was ordered by Doctor Michaels, as well as Devlin, to get plenty of
rest and take it easy. “You don’t have to go. Abel doesn’t expect you to be there, not after what
you’ve been through.”

“Fuck that.” Gabe held his eyes. “There’s no way in hell I’m not going to be there for him. I’m

fine. I’m just going be sitting on a bench anyway.”

“I know,” Cole murmured as he finished buttoning the shirt, then brushed his hands down the front,

straightening the garment. “I just don’t want you to overdo it so soon out of the hospital.”

Gabe snaked his arms around Cole’s waist and tugged him closer. “I’m in more danger of

overdoing it here in the apartment with you.”

“Mm-hm,” Cole smiled then kissed him. “But that isn’t going to happen.” His rubbed his hands

down over his rear and squeezed lightly. “Not for a while yet, anyway.” He grinned and slipped his
tongue into Gabe’s mouth, kissing him with repressed passion that longed to run wild.

Gabe panted when he broke away. “You keep doing that,” he groaned, “and injured or not, I’ll be

attacking your ass.” He chuckled. “Literally.”

Cole shook his head and grinned. “Well then, I guess I’ll have to stop doing that, huh?”
“Not on your life,” Gabe growled and kissed him.
Not on your life. Cole had caught himself just staring at Gabe from time to time since he’d come

home, thanking God every second of every day that Quint’s bullet hadn’t struck a centimeter lower. In
his own head, he’d been certain Gabe was gone as he’d held him in his arms on the floor of the club,
Gabe’s blood slicking his hands. And now, just a few days later, here he stood, almost as good as
new.

And when he thought of the things he had been doing while Gabe was being abused and tortured –

it still gouged at his heart, filled him with guilt and remorse, and at times...a bit of self-hatred. When
Gabe had needed him the most, he had turned his back on the man. It didn’t matter that Gabe
understood, that Cole had had every right to think the things he had. All he could see was that he
hadn’t been there; he hadn’t had Gabe’s back.

“Don’t do that,” Gabe murmured. He leaned forward and touched his head to Cole’s brow. “I hate

it when you get that look in your eyes. It’s over, Cole. You’re not at fault, so stop blaming yourself.”
He cupped Cole’s face and kissed his mouth, then pulled him into his arms.

Cole held him tight. “I almost lost you,” he whispered. “I don’t think I can ever stop blaming

myself for that.”

“Cole...” Gabe rubbed his back soothingly. “You will get over it when you realize there was

nothing you could have done. You would have been the one to get hurt had you tried to help me.” He
kissed his ear. “And I wasn’t about to risk that. I would suffer a thousand times over to keep you

safe.”

His throat tight, Cole asked thickly, “And this is supposed to make me feel less to blame?” He

drew back and smiled.

“Yes,” Gabe nodded and kissed him. “Now finish getting dressed. We don’t want to be late.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I like that,” Gabe smirked. “Are you gonna call me ‘sir’ after we’re married?”
Cole winked, “Only if it will get me sexual favors.”
“Oh, indeed,” Gabe assured.
After we’re married. Cole smiled as his heart fluttered against his ribs. He hadn’t been certain

whether what Gabe had said to him in the hospital had qualified as a proposal, and they hadn’t said
much else about it afterwards. But the way Gabe was looking at him now, he knew it was for real;
Gabe had every intention of making Cole his husband.

The thought overwhelmed him with love for the man, but also brought with it an anxious dread;

Cole had fucked Faron Ryland without any protection. He had thought it was over, everything
between him and Gabe, and he hadn’t given a shit about anything at that point in time. But now...now
it mattered. He thought about Savannah, the sickness within her. What if her fate became his own?
What would that do to him and Gabe?

♦

The aroma of fresh coffee and strawberry waffles reached Abel down the hall before he set foot in
the kitchen. When he entered the room, Savannah sat with a plate in front of her, taking mini bites of
her waffles, eyes distant as she stared blankly at the table.

“Morning, beautiful.” Abel smiled at her when she glanced up. She was dreading this day even

more than him, if that were possible.

“Morning,” she murmured. Her soft, sea green eyes gazed at him with a shadow of sorrow; she

knew what he had to do today, and her heart was breaking.

Abel walked over and leaned down, kissing her hair. “It’s going to be okay,” he whispered, and

was thankful he sounded much more confident than he felt. Outwardly, he was doing his best to put on
a brave front, but inside – he wanted to stuff his head in the toilet and puke his guts out.

“How are you doing?” Devlin asked when he approached the counter where the man was cooking

breakfast. He might be able to pretend for others, but Devlin could see right through him. Just last
night he had confided in him that just the thought of getting up there and recounting the events at the
orphanage made him lightheaded and sick to his stomach.

“I’m...” He shrugged and murmured, “Coping.”
“We’ll get through today.” Devlin touched his face and kissed him softly. “And then that part will

be behind us.” That part. But Devlin would have to take his turn, and Savannah. Abel was more
concerned with how his detailed testimony would affect Devlin than he was with what it would do to
himself. Even Savannah didn’t know everything. She had been present a few times, but for the most
part Abel had been alone with Craig. And though Devlin knew what Craig had done to him, in the
abstract – Abel had never gone into detail. How would Devlin react to hearing it all?

“Yeah.” Abel nodded and hugged him, laying his head on his shoulder.
“You’re going to do fine,” Devlin whispered and rubbed his hand up his back. “We’ll all be there

for you.”

“I know.” Abel swallowed hard and blinked back his tears.

Devlin kissed his neck. “Want me to fix you a plate?”
Shaking his head, Abel stepped back. “I can’t eat. I don’t think it would stay down.”
“It’s going to be a long day, babe,” Devlin pointed out. “You should try to eat something.”
Abel nodded slowly, though the thought of eating anything made his stomach revolt. “Maybe just

some toast then.”

“Toast it is.” Devlin dropped two slices into the toaster and popped them down.
Glancing at Savannah, looking so solemn as she picked at her breakfast, Abel asked quietly,

“Does she have to be in the courtroom when I give my testimony?”

“I don’t know,” Devlin murmured. “I don’t see why she should have to be. Ask Taylor about it

when we get there. See what he has to say.”

Jensen Taylor was the supervising attorney of the legal team Kaplan had assigned to his case, and

the  one  they  had  been  working  most  closely  with  to  prepare  for  court.  He  was  a  no-nonsense  man
with a stare just intimidating enough  to  make  even  the  most  innocent  man  quiver  in  the  knees. Abel
was thankful he was his attorney and not the prosecutor. He would hate to face Taylor from opposing
sides.  But  the  guy  was  a  good  man,  and  underneath  his  steel  shell  was  a  heart  of  compassion  and
patience  and  understanding. Abel  should  have  known  this  even  before  getting  to  know  him;  Kaplan
would  have  never  assigned  someone  to  his  case  who  couldn’t  sympathize  with  what  he  had  gone
through.

♦

Angel leaned against the door frame, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his slacks. “You don’t have to
go.”

Maddy didn’t reply immediately as he buttoned his light blue shirt then tucked it into his new

black jeans. He glanced at Angel. “You don’t have to try and protect me,” he said quietly. “I’ve
already seen the worst of the worst. I’ll be okay.”

In some ways, it was as if the boy had grown up overnight. When Angel looked at him now, he

didn’t see the vulnerable ten-year-old boy Maddy had been when Wade and Axel had taken over their
lives.  He’d  had  a  hard  time  thinking  of  Maddy  as  almost  an  adult  when  everything Angel  had  gone
through  had  been  to  protect  him.  But  it  was  different  now.  Maddy  wasn’t  vulnerable  anymore,  and
like  any  good  “man,”  he  was  quick  to  step  up  and  be  strong  for  those  he  cared  for.  In  this  case  –
Savannah.

Angel smiled and nodded. “I know, Maddy.” It was no secret to either Angel or Dane that

Maddy’s prime purpose for attending the trial was for Savannah’s sake. Maddy understood the hell
she and Abel had gone through, and how much it would hurt having it all dredged back up. A rush of
pride swept over Angel, bringing tears to his eyes. The “straight” world was damn lucky to have a
young man like Maddy in their ranks. Whether because of what he had endured, or simply because of
who he was inside – or both – Maddy was a natural protector, a guardian.

“What?” Maddy was looking him uncertainly.
Angel cleared his throat, then smiled. “Nothing. You look good. Very...grown up.”
“I’m almost sixteen.”
Laughing softly, Angel nodded. “Yes, I know.” He pressed his lips tight and gazed at his little

brother. “You really like her, don’t you?”

“Who?” Maddy murmured absently as he looked at himself in the mirror, messing with his shirt.
“Who do you think?” Angel chuckled, “The only ‘her’ in our very gay family.”

Maddy laughed low, then shrugged. “She’s cool.”
“Cool?” Angel smirked. “Apparently cool enough to get all spiffed up for.”
His brow arched, Maddy looked at him. “You’re spiffed up too.”
“True,” Angel grinned. “But even so...”
“Even so what?” Dane stepped up behind Angel and wrapped his arms around him, kissing his

neck.

“Nothing,” Maddy groaned and rolled his eyes.
“Ah I see,” Dane grinned,. “You were talking about a certain, special young lady.”
“You two just...leave me alone,” Maddy grumbled, though a smile played at the corner of his

mouth.

“Never,” Dane smiled darkly and nibbled Angel’s earlobe. “Where’s the fun in that?”
Groaning again, Maddy just shook his head then walked over and very slowly closed the door,

pushing Angel and Dane out into the hall. “Go away.” The door closed and the lock clicked.

Angel laughed. “Guess our wit isn’t welcome.”
“Who would’ve thought?” Dane kissed him, then walked with him to the kitchen. “Are you sure

you want to be there today?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”
Dane wrapped him in his arms and gazed down at him. “The things Abel has to talk about, it could

bring up bad memories for you as well.”

Leaning against him, Angel sighed, “The memories are there either way. Not facing them doesn’t

make them go away. And besides,” he drew back and looked up at Dane. “Abel is my family now too.
And real families support each other, no matter what. Before too long, I’m going to be in Abel’s
place. I’m going to have to walk into the courtroom and face Wade and Byrd again, and tell what they
did to me.” He hugged Dane’s strong body, taking comfort in it. “Hiding from the memories now will
only make it that much more difficult then.”

Dane smiled and kissed his head. “I believe I snagged me a very wise young man.”
Angel nuzzled his neck. “For your information, I snagged you.”

Chapter 3

“Practiced Lies”

♦

Caleb and Samuel were lingering in the large corridor outside the courtroom when Max and Carl
arrived. “Caleb.” Max hugged the young man. “I’m glad you’re here.” He looked at Samuel, then
hugged him as well. “Both of you.”

“We figured Abel could use all the backup he could get,” Caleb said, then shook Carl’s hand,

greeting the man.

“Are the others here yet?”
Samuel replied, “Dane and Angel and Maddy are inside.”
“Cole and Gabe haven’t shown up?” Max asked.
“Not yet,” Caleb said.
“Well, I guess we can wait for them inside.” Max nodded towards the courtroom and opened one

of the double doors, holding it as Caleb and Samuel entered. Carl started to walk through, when the
elevator at the end of the corridor dinged and Horatio and Seth stepped out. Max’s grip on the door
handle tightened, causing an ache to swim up his forearm. After his vivid “dream” last night,
memories of the past events were bubbling far too close to the surface. His heart pounded louder and
harder as Horatio and Seth approached. And the look in the other man’s eyes as he came closer sent
Max’s heart and mind reeling. There was “something” there, something more than usual. The same
“something” he had seen in Horatio’s eyes last week at the hospital.

“Max,” Horatio nodded, then glanced at Carl. “Carl.”
Max swallowed hard, lips rubbing together anxiously. “It’s good that you came,” he told Horatio.

“Abel would want you here.” He looked at the young man lingering at Horatio’s side. “It’s nice to see
you again, Seth.”

“Nice to see you too.” Seth spoke low, soft. He looked at Max as if searching for something in the

man’s face, his eyes. There was a veiled anguish behind his gaze that tugged at Max’s heart; the boy
was clearly eager to love Horatio, but he was no fool, nor was he blind to the way Horatio still
looked at Max.

And the way you still look at him.
“Do you think I could speak to you a moment?” Max asked Horatio, then glanced quickly at Seth

and Carl. “Alone? Just for a minute?”

Horatio turned to Seth. “Do you mind?” he asked quietly.
“No, of course not,” Seth murmured, though there was a reluctance in leaving Horatio’s side as he

moved towards the door that Max continued to hold open.

“I’ll be there in a moment,” Max told Carl. The man merely nodded and entered the courtroom

without protest, and Max closed the door behind them.

“Is everything all right?” Horatio asked.
“Yeah,” Max nodded slowly without meeting the man’s gaze head on. “I just...”
“What?” Horatio frowned when Max faltered and failed to continue. He stepped forward and

cupped the side of Max’s neck. “Are you okay, Max?”

The man’s touch was warm, comforting, and still much too “familiar” after all this time. He

stepped back slowly, drawing away from his hand gently. “Yeah.” But what exactly had he been
meaning to say? Why had he asked to speak to him alone? He was compelled to ask Horatio again
what he had wanted to tell him at the hospital, not really sure why he felt the intense need to know.
But this was hardly the time to get into that. The trial would be getting underway in less than fifteen
minutes.

Max cleared his throat, then rubbed the nape of his neck. “Your attorneys,” he said quietly.

“They’re the best?” He met Horatio’s gaze, then wished he hadn’t. Baby, stop looking at me that
way. Don’t you know that it kills me? Max averted his eyes. “There’s no danger of Abel being
convicted, is there?”

“My guys are the best,” Horatio assured. “I wouldn’t have supported any of this if I hadn’t been

one hundred percent certain Abel would be cleared of all charges. Abel means everything to me,
Max. I would never gamble with his life.”

“I know,” Max murmured, his eyes pulled back to the man’s face. For a quiet moment, they just

looked at one another. After twenty years, Max could still see the pain in the man’s eyes. The pain
Max had caused when he’d walked out on him with only a note left behind to say goodbye. Whether
or not the fault was truly his own, Max blamed himself for Horatio’s promiscuous lifestyle. The man
was trying desperately to fill the void Max had left in his life, his heart...though no one else seemed to
quite “fit” just right. Maybe Seth would finally be the one.

“Was there something more?” Horatio wondered, a clear note of hopefulness in his tone.
Why was the past pushing in on him so hard all of a sudden? Pulling everything back to the

surface? That fucking dream, it had dredged up all the pain, making it hurt so much worse than it had
already been.

♦

Max ducked his head and blinked quickly. “I, uh...” He cleared his throat. “No, I guess not.”

He hadn’t jerked away from Horatio’s touch, but rather withdrawn with a measure of reluctance.

Don’t go there. It’s too late to try and go back to where you used to be. It was over a long time
ago...regardless of what you now know. The information had come to him too little too late. His
throat hurt and he wanted to throw his arms around Max, and something in the way the man was
acting, the way he kept looking at him, told Horatio he wouldn’t resist, wouldn’t fight him.

But there was Seth to think about. And Carl.
Why does life have to be such a fucking twisted joke?
“Are you sure?” Horatio murmured, knowing that what he needed to do was turn around and walk

away, go into the courtroom and be with Seth. But his feet wouldn’t move as he just stood looking at
Max. The man was displaying a strong exterior as always, but behind his eyes he was breaking down.

What the hell do I do, Max? I want to tell you so fucking bad. I want to be the one to make all

the pain go away. This isn’t fair!

Max’s gaze was on the floor as tears began to pool and sting in Horatio’s eyes. He looked away.

“We should go inside,” he murmured, afraid to raise his voice any louder, as the knot in his throat
threatened to crush his words.

“Yeah.” Max swallowed thickly and swept a quick hand over his mouth. A solid wet sheen glazed

his eyes.

God, I can’t fucking do this . Horatio touched Max’s arm as the man took a step towards the door

to the courtroom. “Max.” Max hesitated but seemed unwilling to meet his eyes. His head raised when
the elevator doors opened and Cole and Gabe stepped out into the corridor.

Horatio caught Max’s stare briefly, his heart pounding, then withdrew his hand.
“Are we late?” Cole asked when they walked up. Gabe’s movements were stiff, his stride slower

than usual.

Max cleared his throat and shook his head. “No. It’s just about to start now.” He looked at Gabe.

“You should really be at home resting.”

Shrugging, Gabe smirked, “When have I ever done what I should?”
“Good point,” Max murmured with a smile. Horatio’s gaze was caught by that smile; it brought

with it too many memories of better days. His eyes lingered on Max’s lips, recalling too vividly the
very first time he had tasted Max’s kiss.

* *

“Race you to the tree,” Max grinned. The tall grass hissed against their pant legs, tiny burs
catching and clinging to the fabric of the slacks. They weren’t supposed to be out here in their
school uniforms; it was a house rule to change their clothes as soon as they got home. But today
they had taken a detour before ever reaching the large house.

Horatio grinned and shoved Max’s shoulder. “You can’t beat me.”
“I’m taller than you,” Max pointed out. “I can run faster.”
“Like an inch taller. Big deal,” Horatio laughed. “I can still leave you in my dust.”
“Prove it,” Max challenged, then suddenly broke into a run and took off across the wide

expanse of grass towards the pond – their favorite place.

Horatio stared after him a moment. “Hey! No fair!” He raced after the older boy. “You didn’t

say go!”

“Too bad, speedy Gonzales!” Max shouted and laughed. “Catch me if you can!”
Pushing himself to run faster, Horatio caught up to him before Max reached the edge of the

pond, then surpassed him. “Hey!” Max shouted and grinned, then tackled him to the ground,
scrambled to his feet and took off again, whooping and hollering.

“Cheater!” Horatio jumped up and sprinted forward, but Max was already at the pond’s edge,

doing a little victory dance.

Max jabbed a finger at him and laughed. “You can’t beat me!”
“You cheated, jerk off,” Horatio scowled, then jumped on him, dragging him to the ground,

wrestling. “You knew you couldn’t beat me fair and square.”

“Ha!” Max grinned darkly as he managed to pin Horatio to the ground. “I can beat you at

everything. I’m older. Those are the rules.”

“Whatever,” Horatio bucked beneath him, laughing. “Age doesn’t matter. You can only win by

cheating. I can so run faster than you.”

Max looked thoughtful, then shrugged. “Maybe,” he relented, “but I’m stronger. And strength

is better than speed.”

“You’re not stronger.” Horatio’s face twisted as he struggled to get loose. Max was stronger,

but he wasn’t going to admit it to the smartass.

“Really?” Max cocked an eyebrow and grinned. “Then get up.” He sat on Horatio’s stomach,

hands gripping the younger boy’s upper arms, holding them in place. Horatio wriggled and
squirmed but couldn’t budge him.

“Get off me!” he laughed. Max hovered over him, staring down into his face, his green eyes

sparkling with amusement and satisfaction.

Max leaned down closer. “Make me, strong man.”
All of a sudden, Horatio’s heart was pounding hard against his ribs, and he didn’t know why. A

startling sizzling sensation zinged through his stomach and into his groin, causing an unexpected
erection. He grew still, breath puffing from his lips as he stared up at Max. There was a sudden
change in the other boy as well, as his laughter faded and his smile wavered. When he shifted a
little, Horatio felt the hardness between Max’s legs pushing against his stomach.

A dryness invaded his throat, and he started to speak – when Max kissed him. Horatio went

deathly still, shocked by the kid’s bold move, and then in a heartbeat, they were wrapped around
each other, kissing like crazy. Horatio’s body exploded with a multitude of sensations he wasn’t
really used to, and it seemed his heart would burst inside his chest.

Max pulled away with a suddenness that left them both breathless and dropped back on the

ground on his butt, eyes wide. “What...what the hell was that?”

Horatio couldn’t move and lay motionless on the ground, barely able to breathe. “You kissed

me first.”

“But...” Max dragged a shaky hand over his mouth. “Why...why would I do that?” He seemed

genuinely perplexed by his own actions or motives.

Because it was amazing, Horatio thought and realized it was true; nothing had ever felt better

than that kiss. He sat up slowly and smiled, “Maybe we’re gay.”

Max frowned, smiled uncertainly, then shook his head. “Whatever. We’re not...” He stared at

Horatio, then leaned forward real quick and kissed him again – as if testing Horatio’s theory. This
kiss was quicker, but still oh so good. He sat back and licked his lips slowly, thoughtfully. Max
had always been a thinker, puzzling things out rather than just taking them as is as Horatio tended
to do.

“Well?” Horatio stared at him, a half grin on his face. “What is your deduction?”
“I’m thinking,” Max murmured.
Crawling over to sit beside him, Horatio suggested, “Maybe you need to conduct more tests.”
Max twisted his head and looked at him, then smiled. “That would be the proper scientific

method.” He dipped in and brushed his lips across Horatio’s mouth, hesitated, then deepened the
kiss. Horatio moaned softly and grabbed him, pulling him down on the ground, eager to
experiment.

A short gasp puffed from Max when he broke the kiss and stared down into Horatio’s eyes. I

love you, Max. The thought hit Horatio so hard he almost jumped, but it felt right, and so true. And
the way Max was looking at him...he knew the other boy was feeling it too.

“I thought you hated science.” Max’s voice trembled a little as his body pressed down

comfortably on Horatio.

Horatio smiled. “I never had a teacher like you before.” They both laughed and dove into

another kiss.

* *

“Horatio?” Max’s brow pinched as the other man just stared at him distantly, lost somewhere in his
thoughts. “Are you okay?”

Horatio blinked. “Huh?” He glanced at Max, then quickly at Cole and Gabe, then shifted his eyes

to the floor as he rubbed his face. “Uh, yeah.”

You were never a good liar , Max thought as Horatio shifted anxiously, his gaze darting around

and avoiding any direct eye contact.

“We’re going to go inside,” Cole murmured slowly, glancing between the two men. He touched

Gabe’s arm, and they entered the courtroom.

Max let the door close a little and looked at Horatio. “Are you sure?” Just moments ago, Horatio

had been asking him the same thing.

The man’s gaze skipped across Max’s eyes and caught, and in that look was the warning – Don’t

ask unless you really want to know.

“I’m fine.” Horatio whispered the practiced lie, though not so convincingly. When Max just stared

at him, he added, with a quiet strain to his voice, “Are you okay?”

Max swallowed. “Fine.”
Did either of them really think they were fooling the other? Neither he nor Horatio had been

“okay” or “fine” in two fucking decades.

Chapter 4

“Quiet Fears”

♦

Abel gasped when Cole squeezed him in his arms, then kissed his neck. “You’re going to do fine,
babe.”

There was great comfort to be found in Cole’s arms and his words. Abel felt safer, more secure,

with all of his family there with him. He was having a difficult time shaking the fear that something
might go wrong and the jury would ultimately turn against him. The prospect of prison terrified him.
Besides the common knowledge of what happened in prisons, Abel had heard the story of Caleb’s
brother, Nick, and his boyfriend, Christian...what had nearly happened to Christian. If he ended up in
a place like that – he would have no one to look out for him, watch his back. And he wasn’t exactly
built tough, not tough enough to fight back, anyway.

Encased in Cole’s strong, warm arms, he found himself wanting to burrow in deeper and hide

from the task ahead. He could feel himself shaking but couldn’t stop. Cole tightened his embrace.
“Don’t be scared, baby,” he whispered in his ear. “Even if things went bad – which they won’t – I
would never let you go in there alone.” He kissed his ear and told him, “I would punch the fucking
judge and go in with you. There’s no way in hell I’ll ever let anyone hurt you ever again, not in this
lifetime.”

The truth behind Cole’s declaration afforded Abel an unexpected rush of relief. Cole meant

exactly what he said. If Abel was convicted – he would do something to get thrown into prison as
well, just to protect him. And, he had no doubt, Gabe would be his willing accomplice.

Tears stung as he pressed his face to the man’s shoulder. Gabe reached over and slid his fingers

through Abel’s hair, then kissed his head. “We’re right here, babe. We’re not going to let anything
happen to you.”

Abel blinked quickly and nodded. When Cole finally released him, Abel hugged Gabe, trying to

be careful, but the guy wouldn’t settle for anything less than a full blown crushing embrace.

“Don’t squeeze all the air out of him, Gabe,” Max smiled, approaching with Horatio a step or two

behind him.

“Can’t help it,” Gabe chuckled and kissed Abel’s cheek. “He’s so damn huggable.”
Max laughed softly and nodded, taking his turn. “How you doing, kid?”
“The truth?” Abel looked at him, an unsteady smile on his lips.
“You’re going to do great.”
“So they keep telling me,” Abel murmured doubtfully.
Max stepped back and allowed room for Horatio. His arms slipped around Abel, and he hugged

him close, his embrace retaining the same deep love and affection that Abel remembered. The man
drew back and cupped the sides of Abel’s neck, his thumbs caressing the curve of his jaw. “My guys
will take good care of you,” he said softly, his eyes warm as he gazed at him. “I promise. Don’t
worry about a thing, okay? Jensen has assured me that all the odds are in your favor. Most likely, this
will be a short trial.”

“I hope so,” Abel whispered thickly, then hugged him again. “Thank you. For everything.”

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, baby,” he murmured and kissed his cheek.
“I’m trying to be a supportive boyfriend and all,” Devlin interjected, smiling, “but I’m starting to

get a little jealous.”

Cole laughed and slipped his arm around the doctor, then kissed his face. “No worries, doc. Abel

would take you over the lot of us any day of the week.” He winked.

“Well, to be on the safe side,” Devlin grinned and looked at Abel, “I’ll not force him to choose.”
Abel laughed softly and stepped over, wrapping his arms around Devlin. He was a lucky man any

way  he  looked  at  it.  When  it  had  just  been  him  and  Savannah  in  their  cold,  uncaring  home,  at  the
orphanage,  out  on  the  streets  – Abel  had  thought  God  didn’t  care  about  them,  possibly  even  hated
them.  He’d  had  no  idea  that  the  tragic  events  of  their  lives  would  be  what  led  them  straight  to  the
people who would love and cherish them the most. Apparently sometimes the path to heaven had to
cut through hell first.

When Jensen Taylor motioned for him to come to the front of the room, the others followed and

took the two benches just behind the short barrier. Devlin embraced him, then kissed him deeply.
“When you’re up there,” he murmured, “just remember, baby...those past events, they’re done and
over with. None of it can hurt you anymore. You’re safe here with all of us.”

Abel nodded, struggling to put on a brave face. “I still wish Savannah didn’t have to be in here.”

Taylor had suggested she stay, as it was important for her to hear Abel’s testimony and know exactly
what  he  said,  because  in  her  own  cross-examination,  bits  of  his  statements  would  come  up  in  the
questioning.  He  glanced  at  his  sister.  She  sat  in  the  first  row  with  Dane, Angel,  and  Maddy  on  one
side,  and  Cole  and  Gabe  on  the  other,  all  of  them  like  guardian  angels  hovering  around  her  –  with
Maddy the closest. Max, Horatio, and the others took the second row bench. Behind them, a few of
the  other  boys  from  the  club  were  there  as  well,  including  Ricky,  who  winked  and  gave  him  an
encouraging nod.

For a quick moment, Abel forgot about the trial and just stared at Savannah and Maddy. Neither

Angel nor Maddy knew about Savannah’s condition; it was Savannah’s decision when to tell Maddy.
The boy didn’t seem the type to run from such a thing, but there were no guarantees. And Savannah
seemed aware of that as well. Abel didn’t think she would allow herself to get too close to
Maddy...not until she told him everything.

“It’s time,” Jensen motioned to him. Abel liked the man’s tough-as-nails exterior and suspected

Horatio had meticulously hand-picked Taylor for this case. He couldn’t imagine anyone getting the
best of him.

He cast one last glance at Savannah and Maddy, letting his eyes caress the faces of all his family

as they gazed back with encouragement.

You’re gonna be okay. Just get through today, like Devlin said, and that will be just one more

thing behind you. You can do this. You can.

Devlin kissed him again before he stepped through the gate and took a seat with Taylor and his

two assistant attorneys, Sanders and Thomas. Devlin sat down in the first row, next to Gabe.

Resting his hand on Abel’s shoulder, Jenson said, “We’ve gone over this multiple times. You’ve

told me in detail all that happened. You just have to tell it one more time to the jury, and then it will
be over. Okay?”

Abel nodded, his guts churning. It had been different when he’d rehearsed all this. There hadn’t

been anyone else present but his attorneys. Now...Devlin would have to listen to the fine details of
Craig’s abuse and assault on him. And Savannah would hear it, too.

“I’ll take you through it exactly as we rehearsed,” Jensen said, “and then you will be cross-

Chapter 5

“Doubts and Uncertainty”

♦

When Seth had initially entered the courtroom with Carl, the man had walked over to the group from
the club and lingered, speaking with them, encouraging Abel. Seth didn’t know any of them and was
here because it was important to Horatio, because Abel was important to him. Horatio had told him
that he was glad Seth was coming with him today, but when the man had lingered out in the hall with
Max, Seth had found himself questioning the depth of truth in that.

Having taken a seat at the far end of the second row bench, Seth had watched Carl conversing

with  his  friends  but  hadn’t  missed  the  repeated  flick  of  his  eyes  to  the  door. You  know  you  can’t
compete with Horatio, don’t you?  Seth had thought. Just as I’ll never be able to compete with Max.
He’d  thought  about  the  Xeroxed  papers  stuffed  in  the  bottom  of  his  sports  bag...and  the  originals
tucked securely inside Horatio’s safe. At least Seth assumed that’s where they were, since they were
no  longer  in  the  waste  basket  –  though  the  other  paper  trash  remained.  Horatio  hadn’t  been  able  to
throw them away.

Before Max and Horatio had ventured into the courtroom, Carl had come over to the bench and sat

down about halfway between Seth and the aisle end. He’d seemed anxious at first, as if he hadn’t
been sure what to say, leaning forward on his knees, staring at the floor. He had actually startled Seth
when he’d suddenly turned to him, leaned over, and thrust out his hand. “We haven’t been formally
introduced.” His voice had had a slight glitch to it. “I’m Carl. The bartender at the club.”

Seth had shaken his hand, and brief casual words had passed between them before they had both

fallen silent again, each lost in his own thoughts. Though neither had voiced it aloud, the same
understanding had floated in both men’s eyes: We’re fucked. We don’t stand a chance.

Again, Seth had considered the documents back at the penthouse suite. Carl had no idea how

“fucked” they truly were.

After speaking with Abel, Horatio had come over and sat with Seth at the end of the bench, his

arm around his shoulder. But it had seemed an effort for the man to keep his eyes off Max. And when
his  gaze  had  jumped  in  that  direction,  even  lingered  a  time  or  two,  Seth  knew  it  hadn’t  been
intentional. Horatio was trying hard to just “be” with Seth and convince himself that if he moved far
enough away, he could let Max go and move on. In Seth’s heart, he ached for that to be true. But in his
head,  he  knew  it  would  never  happen.  Already,  Seth  was  slowly  and  systematically  trying  to
condition himself to let Horatio go. But it was so hard to do when the man was still clinging to him,
insisting that Seth was who he wanted. And Horatio’s touch wasn’t a touch to be denied. How Max
had  managed  to  hold  Horatio  at  a  distance  for  twenty  years  was  something  Seth  would  never
understand, even in light of their situation. Right or wrong, Seth couldn’t have done it.

When Max had come over to sit with Carl, Samuel and Caleb had followed. Moving down to

make room, Max had taken the spot next to Horatio. Seth had felt him tense instantly, even sworn he
could feel the man’s heartbeat quicken in his chest.

And even now, as they waited for Abel to take the stand, Horatio retained a measure of tension.

He sat with his back partially towards Max as his arm remained around Seth’s shoulder, and he

leaned close now and then to murmur something to him. But there was no mistaking his full awareness
of Max sitting right next to him. Seth allowed himself to rest against Horatio and memorize the feel of
his body.

Too soon, he feared – memories would be all that he had left of the man.

♦

Samuel waited for Abel to take the stand and glanced at Caleb. He had yet to tell him that there was
talk of Brock Coulson withdrawing his plea of guilty and waging a court battle. Samuel was
distressed by the news, but not entirely surprised. Brock himself was an aggressive attorney and not
used to losing. And if he was going to prison anyway, the man wouldn’t go quietly. His initial offer to
plead guilty had been right after his assault; he’d been in extreme pain and vulnerable. But now that
he had come back to his “senses,” his ego was regaining control. And even if the man had no real
chance of coming out of a court battle without prison time – he would drag Caleb through hell before
he was done.

He combed his fingers through Caleb’s hair at the back of his neck, and the young man glanced at

him and smiled. “You okay?” he asked quietly.

Samuel nodded, and Caleb turned his attention forward again. Before Brock had offered to plead

guilty, Caleb had expressed his anxiety about having the videos Brock recorded shown in court. But if
Brock chose to face off with them, the videos would be their greatest asset. Brock couldn’t have them
deemed inadmissible because he had taken the videos himself and had been fully aware he was being
recorded. Without the videos, it would have been Caleb’s word against Brock’s. And considering
who Brock Coulson was – and Caleb’s profession at the time – they would have been up shit creek
without a paddle.

But nothing was concrete as of yet. Brock could still plead guilty without a fight. Until Samuel

knew one way or the other for certain, he would not mention it to Caleb. The guy had been through
enough; he didn’t need to stress about what might never even come about. In the meantime, Samuel
and Nolan Emery were quietly building Caleb’s case in the event that things took a turn for the worst
and they had to go toe to toe with Brock and his attorneys.

Samuel didn’t want to go there. He didn’t want Caleb to have to endure as brutal a court battle as

that one would surely turn into. He had suffered enough at the hands of Brock Coulson.

♦

Why had he opted to sit next to Horatio? Max realized he should have kept Carl between him and the
other man. Though he tried not to let their bodies touch, it was inevitable as the bench became more
crowded. His thigh and hip were pressed snuggly against Horatio, and he could feel the tension in the
other man as their skin seemed to burn into each other through their clothes.

Just focus on Abel. Don’t think about Horatio . But as the judge had yet to enter the courtroom

and  get  things  underway,  the  heat  of  Horatio’s  body  began  to  consume  him.  Max  stretched  his  arm
across  the  back  of  the  bench  behind  Carl  and  rested  his  hand  on  the  younger  man’s  shoulder.  Carl
seemed  distracted  himself,  and  Max  was  pretty  sure  he  knew  why. You  can’t  do  this  to  him.  You
can’t give him the green light to fall for you – then become consumed by Horatio all over again
the moment he steps into view.

Max leaned close to Carl and kissed his ear. “I’m really glad you came with me today,” he

whispered.

Carl nodded and smiled, but there was a strain to it. He cast a quick glance past Max, then

murmured low, “Where did Horatio say he met Seth?”

“Cancun.”
“How long has he known him?”
Max shook his head. “Not long.”
“Do you think it’s serious?”
His lips tight, Max nodded slowly. “Yeah, I think so.”
Carl looked at him. “Are you okay with that?” he whispered.
Max smiled and slid his fingers through Carl’s hair as he leaned closer. “I have you,” he said

softly. “Why wouldn’t I be okay with it?”

“And if you didn’t have me,” Carl wondered, “would you still be okay with it?”
Lifting an eyebrow, Max asked with mock wariness, “Why? Are you planning on dumping me so

soon?”

Carl chuckled low. “No, of course not.”
Max brushed his lips across Carl’s ear. “Trust me, I’m used to Horatio being with other men.

He’s rarely not with another man at some time or another. It’s nothing new to me.” Guilt pressed at
his heart; Max was the only man Horatio truly wanted to be with. Max had always known this. And he
didn’t like wording things in such a way that passed Horatio off as a player, or someone who was just
out for as much sex as he could get. Had they been together from the start, Max knew without a doubt
that Horatio would have never strayed, never even looked at another man. But how could he tell Carl
that the only reason Horatio jumped from one man to another – was his attempt to fill the void inside
him that Max had left behind?

Horatio shifted beside him, and the man seemed to be having a difficult time figuring out where to

rest his right arm without openly touching Max.

Just stop touching me! The words from their long ago past slammed into Max’s mind suddenly

and without warning. The previous night’s dream rushed back in, and Max trembled beneath a wave
of pain that washed over him at the memory of the last night he’d spoken to Horatio before he’d
walked away.

Run away – wasn’t that what he had really done? Fled from the feelings he had for Horatio, from

the love he was no longer allowed to acknowledge?

* *

“Did you tell him?’

Max sat on the edge of his bed, head in his hands. He looked up slowly when Xavier stepped in

the door and shook his head.

“Max...”
“Tell me what?” Horatio appeared in the doorway behind his father, his eyes still troubled

from earlier. He glanced from his dad to Max, then entered the room and walked to the bed. “Tell
me what?” His voice was strained.

Shifting his feet, Xavier rubbed the back of his neck. “Horatio...” He glanced at Max, and Max

pleaded with him not to do it, not on this day. Xavier cleared his throat. “I just...” he shrugged
and smiled. “I just wanted to make sure Max didn’t tell you what your surprise gift was.”

“Why would he tell me?” Horatio glanced at Max. “He never does.”

“Well,” Xavier said, a waver to his voice. “This one is extra-special, so I was just double

checking.” He looked at Max, then at Horatio. He stepped forward, cupped the back of Horatio’s
neck, and kissed his head. “Try to have a good time tonight, son.”

“I hate the kids from school, Dad.”
“Give them a chance,” Xavier said. “I’m sure they’re not as bad as you think.”
“Yeah,” Horatio mumbled sourly.
Xavier nodded slowly, then stepped to the door. “Don’t be too long. You are the man of the

hour.”

“Sure, Dad,” Horatio whispered. “I’ll be right down.”
When Max glanced up, Xavier cast him one last look before leaving the room.
“Thanks for deserting me,” Horatio dropped down on the bed next to Max. “You’re going to

come back down, right?”

“I don’t feel very good,” Max whispered thickly.
Silence dropped down on them, and the heat of Horatio’s body brushing against Max burned

into him. He ached to hold him, to lay him down on the bed and make love to him again.

“Max...” Horatio murmured, “what’s wrong? Why were you so upset earlier?” He ducked his

head and looked at Max uncertainly. “Are you mad at me about something? If I did something
wrong-”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Horatio.” Max choked and stood up, brushing his hand

through his hair, his back to the boy. “I’m not...” His throat clenched so tight he could barely
breathe. “I’m not mad at you.”

“Then what is it?” Horatio left the bed. “Why won’t you talk to me?”
“I will,” Max whispered. “Just...not tonight. I told you, I don’t feel good.”
He flinched when Horatio touched his back then stepped around in front of him and wrapped

his arms around his waist. “I could stay up here with you,” Horatio suggested and hugged him,
kissing his neck. “I might know a thing or two that would make you feel better.” He brushed his
lips against Max’s ear. “I promise to be quiet this time, so my dad won’t hear.”

Max stared blankly over his shoulder. “It doesn’t matter,” he murmured dully. “He knows

about us.”

“What?” Horatio jerked back. “He...” A frown pinched his forehead. “How...?”
“He saw me kiss you the other day,” Max told him, avoiding his stare.
“He told you that?”
Max nodded.
“What...what did he say?” Horatio swallowed thickly. “Is that why you’re upset? Did he get

mad at you?”

Max shook his head. “I don’t want to talk about it right now.” He finally met Horatio’s

troubled eyes. “You should go back to your party.”

“I’d rather stay up here with you.” Horatio went to kiss him, but Max turned away. “Max...”
“I said I was sick,” Max whispered unsteadily. “I don’t want you to get sick too.”
“Fuck that. Like I care.” Max pulled away when he tried to kiss him again. “What the fuck,

Max?” he choked. “Why won’t you kiss me?”

“Go back to your party, Horatio.” Max trembled.
“Did...did my dad tell you that we couldn’t be together?” he asked. “Is that why you’re acting

this way?” He stepped closer and touched Max. “I don’t care what he thinks, he can’t keep us
apart.” He rubbed his hand up Max’s arm and over his shoulder. “He can’t-”

“Just stop touching me!” Max cried suddenly and pushed him away. “Go back to your fucking

party and leave me alone!”

Horatio stared at him in shock, tears rising fast. “Max...what the hell is going on?”
Turning his back to the guy, Max hugged himself and squeezed his eyes shut, tears rushing out.

“Just leave, Horatio.”

“Max...” Horatio was crying, but Max refused to face him. If he saw his tears, saw the pain in

his eyes – he would break completely.

“Just go.”
And he did, but not back to the party. He ran from the bedroom, and Max could hear his

footfalls as he raced down the rear stairs, and moments later, the back door slammed as he rushed
out into the night.

Max couldn’t move. His body shook with sobs. Somehow he ended up on the bed but didn’t

remember lying down. He grabbed his pillow and shoved his face into the softness and screamed
until his throat was raw and exhaustion dragged him into a troubled sleep.

* *

“Max? Are you okay?” Carl was speaking to him, low and with concern.

Max swallowed hard and felt the dampness in his eyes, the tightness in his throat. He blinked back

the tears and nodded. “Yeah,” he rasped. The heat of Horatio’s body touching his was searing him.
He wanted to leave the courtroom and crawl into a hole and cry himself into oblivion. He’d hurt
Horatio so bad that night...but even more so the next day, when he’d left while Horatio was at school.

The need to turn around and pull Horatio into his arms and beg his forgiveness was so strong; in

twenty years, he had never really apologized to the man for leaving the way he had. Maybe it was too
late  to  apologize,  after  all  this  time. Or  maybe  it’s  just  too  dangerous .  What  would  happen  if  he
admitted  to  Horatio  that  he  hadn’t  wanted  to  leave  that  way?  That  it  was  Horatio’s  dad  who  had
pushed  him  to  go  while  Horatio  was  at  school?  What  would  Horatio  say  if  he  knew  that  –  for  one
quick moment – Max had considered overlooking reality, had contemplated staying with Horatio? If
Xavier Kaplan hadn’t been there to push him in the other direction...would he have stayed?

He wasn’t forced to answer his own question, as the judge emerged from his quarters and all

thoughts of the past were temporarily buried, his sole focus now Abel.

Chapter 6

“About a Boy”

♦

One  arm  wrapped  around  Savannah’s  shoulder  securely  when  the  prosecutor,  Bronson  Tate,
addressed the jury with his opening statement. When he began to paint a picture of Abel that depicted
the  boy  as  “troubled,”  “unstable,”  “bitter,”  “angry,”  and  “without  remorse”  –  Cole’s  nails  dug  into
Gabe’s palm as he squeezed his hand, eyes burning as he longed to vault over the short wall and beat
the  fuck  out  of  the  man.  Gabe’s  fingers  closed  tightly  around  his  hand  –  whether  to  calm  Cole  or
simply  anchor  himself,  Cole  couldn’t  be  certain.  But  Gabe  grew  rigid  with  tension  and  fury  right
along with Cole when the prosecutor shifted focus to Craig Grant and told the story of a generous man
who gave of his time and his heart to help the “lost children” of our country.

Generous with his fucking cock, Cole fumed inwardly.
“Here we have a man,” Bronson Tate spoke with emotion, gesturing to the jurors, enrapturing

them in his fabricated tale of a man who had never existed. “A rare man these days, who made it his
life goal to help orphaned and abandoned children, provide guidance to troubled teens. A man with a
heart of compassion and love. An asset to the youth of this great nation, shining forth as lamp unto
their feet and a light unto their path.”

Was he fucking serious? Quoting scripture in defense of that sick fuck? Just strike him dead,

God, right here. A nice hot bolt of lightning up his ass.

“And then we have a troubled young man. Jesse Evers.” He motioned towards Abel. “A.K.A. –

Abel  Sims.”  His  voice  softened,  as  if  he  possessed  a  shred  of  sympathy  for Abel.  “Now,  I  know
Jesse Evers came from a broken home. I understand and sympathize with the situation he was in. And
I  have  taken  all  of  that  into  consideration,  as  well  as  his  age  when  the  crime  was  committed.  But
neither  will  I  allow  those  facts  to  obstruct  my  view.  Jesse  Evers  was  fourteen  years  old  when  he
made the choice to take a man’s life. Fourteen.” He paused as he looked at each of the jurors. “He
was not a child. He was old enough to understand what he was doing. And I will prove to you that
this  violent  act  on  the  part  of  this  young  adult  was  not,  in  fact,  an  act  of  self-defense  for  alleged
sexual abuse. But rather the irrational and unnecessary actions of an angry, troubled young man acting
out against a figure of authority.”

Cole didn’t miss how Tate was careful to emphasize the words “young adult” and “young man”

rather than referring to Abel as a kid. He didn’t want the jurors to see Abel’s fourteen-year-old self
as a child, but was leading them to view him as an “almost” adult.

“If he doesn’t fucking shut up soon,” Cole leaned close to Gabe, “I’ll be going to prison with or

without Abel.”

Nodding slowly, Gabe’s facial muscles flexed and popped, his eyes burning into the man. “You

won’t go alone,” he murmured tightly.

When Devlin leaned forward, elbows grinding into his thighs, hands clasped, and damp, troubled

eyes on the prosecutor, Cole pitied the doctor. The man Tate was describing Craig to be – was the
man Devlin had thought he was all his life. Bronson Tate’s speech was convincing – if one didn’t
know any better – and Cole prayed that it didn’t somehow begin to cause doubt in Devlin about his

brother’s guilt.

That’s fucking crazy and you know it. Devlin remembers now the things Craig did to ‘him.’

And then there was Devlin’s childhood friend, Brandon. And others that the private investigator had
found.

We’re good, Cole assured himself. This bastard might give a cozy speech about a

compassionate, generous man – but the evidence we have will blow that fucking illusion out of the
water. And despite Cole’s “first impression” of Horatio Kaplan, he now knew the man to be
trustworthy. He wouldn’t have suggested Abel confess to his crimes and go to court if he hadn’t been
fully convinced his guys could win the case hands down. And the fact that Jensen Taylor remained
calm, without a hint of visible tension, afforded Cole a hell of a lot of comfort.

“Why is he saying those things about Abel?” Savannah squeezed her hands into fists in her lap,

tears watering her eyes. “It was self-defense.” The girl seemed ready to lay into the prosecutor right
along with Cole and Gabe.

“Of course it was,” Cole said and hugged her closer. “It’s his job to try and make Abel look

guilty. But don’t worry, Abel is in good hands.”

In what appeared to be an absent movement – though Cole was fairly certain it was quite

calculated – Maddy took hold of Savannah’s left hand. When he spoke, his question was directed to
Cole. “Why do the witnesses have to swear to tell the truth, but that guy gets to stand up there and lie
his ass off?”

Cole glanced at Angel and Dane, and smiled; the kid made a hell of a good point. “I don’t know,”

Cole admitted. “Sure as hell don’t seem fair.”

“It isn’t right.” Savannah didn’t withdraw her hand from Maddy’s but held onto him tighter. “Abel

isn’t any of the things he says he is. And Craig wasn’t a good guy.” She faltered abruptly and glanced
towards Devlin, as if her words might have wounded him.

Devlin leaned on his knees and shook his head. “You’re right, sweetheart,” he murmured, staring

at the floor. “He wasn’t a good guy.”

♦

Upon hearing the fear and anger in Savannah’s voice, Max leaned forward and touched her shoulder.
“Ignore the man, honey,” he said quietly. “Like Cole said, it’s his job to bring accusations against
Abel. But your brother is innocent of those charges. And Horatio’s attorneys will prove it. They’re
the best.” He glanced at Horatio, who was watching him. “Isn’t that right?”

“Absolutely.” Horatio scooted forward and leaned on the back of the front bench next to Max.

“Jensen Taylor won’t let anything happen to Abel,” he told the young girl. “So don’t you worry.
Abel’s case is iron clad.”

Savannah nodded and seemed to relax somewhat, leaning a bit towards Maddy. Max looked at

them a moment, warm envy coursing through him. Whether or not this would turn out to be a first love
for them both remained to be seen, but there was nothing quite like that feeling of falling in love that
very first time. When he had first known he was in love with Horatio, it was the most amazing thing
he had ever experienced-

He shoved the thought away quickly, forcefully, as he was suddenly too aware of Horatio right

beside him, still leaning forward against the bench. He cleared his throat and glanced at the man.
“Thank you, for...” He nodded towards Savannah.

A faint, hesitant smile touched the edges of Horatio’s mouth. “My pleasure. I don’t want her to

worry.”

It hurt Max that the man seemed uncertain if he should even smile at Max. There was a time when

Horatio’s smile had lit up his life, and he had lived and breathed just to see it and know it was all for
him.

Stop it! Fuck. Just stop thinking about it.
He realized he was staring at Horatio, and looked away, then slid back next to Carl. But when

Horatio sat back as well, his body brushing against Max, his senses went wild. Carl took his hand and
he didn’t resist, though he felt like shit that while he was holding Carl’s hand – his heart was beating
wildly at the unbidden memories of another time and another place with Horatio.

Bronson Tate was finishing up his opening statement with another spiel about a compassionate,

charitable young man whose violent, premature death had been a great loss to the youth of our nation.
Max  gave  rein  to  his  inner  fury  at  the  man’s  words  and  let  it  distract  him  from  all  things  Horatio.
Jensen Taylor was up next and would soon deliver his opening statement as well.  It better be damn
good, Max thought anxiously. The jurors seemed to have fallen under Tate’s spell – and it didn’t hurt
him any that he was easy on the eyes and could spew forth charm. Half the women in the jury were
practically  swooning  over  him  as  it  was.  But  this  wasn’t  a  beauty  contest.  Jensen  might  not  have
Tate’s classic good looks, but he had what was important – the knowledge and skill to win this thing.
He would win over the jury, Max had no doubts.

When Tate sat down, the judge told Jensen he could begin. The attorney leaned over and spoke

with Abel and the other two men at the table. Max’s gut tightened when the man requested a brief,
five-minute recess. Was there something wrong? Had Tate said something Jensen hadn’t been
prepared for?

Max glanced at Horatio. “Do you think everything’s all right?”
“I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about,” Horatio murmured, but his eyes were on Jensen and

Abel. A moment later, he stood up and stepped past Max and Carl, making his way to the aisle. He
went to the front and motioned to Jensen.

♦

“What’s going on?” Horatio asked the attorney. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” Jensen assured. “Tate gave a good speech, and he knows it. By calling a brief recess and

conferring with my client,” an uncharacteristic smile twitched his lips, “he will think he threw me a
curve ball. But I assure you, I anticipated such a speech.” He gripped Horatio’s shoulder. “Abel will
be just fine.”

Horatio released a slow breath and nodded.
Jensen’s elusive smile peered out again with a slight more prominence. “Trust me.”
“I do.” Horatio returned to his seat and sank down between Max and Seth. “Don’t worry,” he told

Max and the others as they glanced at him. “He’s just psyching out the other team. Letting them think
he’s squirming a little.” Horatio shrugged and smiled. “He does that.”

“As long as he wins,” Max spoke low, “I don’t give a fuck how he goes about it.”
Instinctively, Horatio squeezed his forearm. “He’ll win.” He pulled his hand back quick, berating

himself. He shifted uneasily, his body too close to Max’s.

“How does the jury look?” Samuel leaned forward on his knees and addressed Horatio. “I’m

guessing Tate at least made the attempt to pack it with folk who might have a problem with
homosexuality. That might not be the issue of this trial, but there are always those who make it an

issue. If he has homophobic jurors on the panel, it could taint their view of Abel and anyone else who
speaks on his behalf. And people are human; their own personal beliefs or prejudices will influence
their opinion.”

Horatio nodded. “I understand what you’re saying. But Jensen would have done his best to weed

out the anti-gay prospects. He’s been at this a while, he knows the tricks of his opponents.”

“Good,” Samuel murmured. “Because it would be a damn shame if Abel was convicted because

he was gay.”

Seth offered input for the first time. He looked at Samuel. “Are people really that petty...that they

would find someone guilty just because they disapproved of their sexual preference?”

Where have you been, babe? Horatio thought.
Samuel shook his head. “There are everyday folk out there who think gays should be rounded up

and shot. So yeah, they are fully capable of bringing a guilty verdict against him simply because he
isn’t straight. Of course, they wouldn’t admit that was the reason.”

“Fuck,” Seth mumbled. “People are whacked.”
Horatio chuffed, “You said it, babe.” Seth must have run with a much more tolerant crowd most of

his life, if he wasn’t fully aware of the persecution the LGBT community was still suffering. Horatio
hadn’t given the gay issue any thought until that day Max had kissed him for the first time and he
realized he was crazy in love with the guy. And the first time they had made love – there was no
turning back. Back then, Horatio had had no idea if gays could become straight, but whereas other gay
kids had surely been praying for God to make them straight – Horatio had been praying and begging
God to let him remain gay, because there was nothing in the world like the feeling of being one with
Max.

Suddenly conscious of Seth’s eyes on him, Horatio slid his tongue across his lower lip, his throat

dry. He glanced forward, then looked at Seth. “I’m going to step out for a minute and grab a bottle of
water from the vending machine.” He stood up. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

In the corridor, Horatio sought out the machine, retrieved a bottle of ice cold water, and chugged

half of it in one shot. He leaned against the wall and wiped a slow hand across his mouth, staring at
the doors to the courtroom. He’d come here for Abel, and he needed to get his head right. But he
couldn’t have Max sitting right next to him and his emotions not surge to the surface. When he looked
at Max now, it wasn’t with the same anguish as before. There had never been a “possibility” before,
and now there was. And as hard as he tried to ignore it and let it all go – it wouldn’t let him go.

“Fuck, Max,” he choked and rubbed his eyes, unnerved to find them damp. “How do I just turn it

the hell off?” He tried picturing Max and Carl on the bar again, hoping the memory would kill this
need to tell Max everything. But it didn’t work this time, because in his mind now...he just kept seeing
him and Max making love, all the way back to that very first time.

Chapter 7

“Love Me True”

♦

“What the hell are you doing?” Horatio lay on the grass, propped on his elbows. A comfortably
cool draft wafted off the pond and played with the tips of his hair. The full moon illuminated the
surface of the water, as well as Max’s face as he gyrated slowly in the moonlight, his body
twisting and swaying. Horatio shifted, his ankles crossed and thighs squeezing against his
hardening manhood.

“Come on,” Max grinned. “Dance with me.”
Horatio cocked an eyebrow and snorted, “Dance?”
“Yeah.” Max wriggled his eyebrows and began to slowly caress his hands over his body,

slipping them under his shirt and shoving it up just enough to afford Horatio a glimpse of his hard
stomach, the moonlight shadowing the crevices of his developing muscles.

Fuck. Horatio shifted again, his balls beginning to ache and member stiffening radically.
“You’re not scared to dance with me, are ya?” Max smirked, his green eyes reflecting the

moonlight with a mischievous glint.

“I’m not scared,” Horatio insisted. “I just don’t want to.”
“I understand,” Max smiled as he turned away, his ass dipping a little. “You know you can’t

keep up with me and don’t want to be embarrassed.” He glanced over his shoulder and winked at
him.

Horatio groaned; it should be illegal for anyone to be that sexy. He scoffed, “I could so keep

up.”

“All I hear is a lot of talk, baby,” Max murmured as he continued to rub all over his body, his

hands snaking back to slide down  over  his  ass  and  squeeze  his  own  cheeks  through  his  pants.  It
had  been  almost  a  year  since  Max  had  first  kissed  him,  and  they  had  been  feeling  out  their
relationship  ever  since.  But  nothing  had  really  gone  much  further  than  the  kissing,  and  a  little
groping. Horatio didn’t know if Max was uneasy about going further or if he didn’t think Horatio
was ready, being only fourteen. But the truth was – he would’ve made love to Max that very day he
kissed him. They had both wanted to – Horatio knew this without Max telling him – but neither had
been too knowledgeable in the ways of gay sex, and he thought maybe Max was afraid of hurting
him if he didn’t do it right. But he thought Max might have been “studying” up on it since then. He
sure seemed to be more open lately about them getting up close and personal. Like now.

Not moving a muscle, Horatio just watched him, wanting to get up and dance with him, but a

little nervous about where it might lead. He’d had a ton of daydreams and sleep dreams about
making love to Max – had even had a few wet dreams. He had no doubt he would enjoy it, but what
if Max decided he didn’t like doing it that way? What if it turned him off guys? Horatio would go
crazy if Max stopped being gay and didn’t want to be his boyfriend anymore.

“So? You gonna dance with me or what?” Max moved towards him, body curving to a tune

only he could hear. Horatio grinned when he stepped over the top of him, straddling his body, and
began to descend and ascend, dropping his hips down and nearly grazing Horatio’s crotch before

rising up again, his body so beautiful in the moonlight. Max peeled off his shirt in a very sexy
manner and let it drop down on Horatio’s face.

Laughing, Horatio grabbed it and tossed it aside, then grew still when Max fingered the snap

of his pants. “What’re you doing?” Horatio breathed, a short laugh puffing out.

Max just gazed down at him, a half smile on his gorgeous face. “Dance with me.” There was

shift to his tone that grabbed at Horatio’s heart. “Please?”

“Okay,” Horatio groaned, his pulse quickening. Max stepped away and let him crawl to his

feet. He fidgeted anxiously. “Shouldn’t we have music or something?”

Max gripped his waist and pulled him against him. “We can make our own music,” he grinned

and nuzzled his neck. His fingers squeezed Horatio’s skin, and he began to move the younger boy’s
body along with his own.

“I feel kind of stupid,” Horatio smirked but didn’t try to pull away or make him stop.
“Just close your eyes,” Max said. “Think of a song and feel the music, then just let yourself

go.”

Horatio frowned. “Since when can you dance, anyway? I’ve never seen you do it before.”
“Maybe I practice in my dreams,” Max grinned.
Rubbing his hands up Max’s arms, Horatio rolled his eyes. “Right.”
They fell silent as the frogs and crickets around the pond created their own natural symphony

that Horatio found oddly romantic and titillating. He flattened his palms against Max’s warm
chest, then dragged his fingertips down over his hard stomach before rubbing his hands back up to
his chest again. Max slipped his arms around his waist, and his hands went under Horatio’s shirt,
caressing his back sensually. Horatio pressed closer, amazed at how his body moved with Max’s.
The guy felt so good as he flattened his hands on Horatio’s lower back and held his hips against
him as they began to rock together, hips rolling smoothly, crotches rubbing and massaging.

Horatio’s breath caught and staggered, his head going light as he heated up from his hairline

down to the tip of his toes. His short nails dug into Max’s biceps, and his breath quickened. Max
held him tighter, hands slowly venturing down over his rear, gripping firmly as their hips glided
and rolled together.

“Max...” Horatio shuddered.
Hot breath puffed into his hair as Max brushed his lips across Horatio’s ear. “I love you,

Horatio,” he whispered, a slight tremor to his voice. “I’ll always love you. Nothing could ever
make me stop loving you.” Horatio began to tremble as Max drew back just enough to kiss his
mouth; they had never said “I love you” to each other before. They both had known they were in
love, but they had never said it aloud. Horatio drank in his kiss, then gasped softly when it ended.
“Do you love me too, Horatio?” Max kissed him again, softly, “Please say you do.”

His throat working but producing no words, Horatio nodded then finally managed – “Yes.” His

heart threatened to implode, and he wrapped his arms tight around Max’s neck and hugged him
hard. “I love you too, Max.” He shoved his face against his neck, and Max’s pulse pumped hard
against his lips. Tears rose up without warning. “I’m crazy in love with you.”

Max squeezed him in his arms, clinging to him. “I want to be with you, Horatio,” he choked

out softly, emotion breaking his words. “I want to be with you tonight.”

Be with him? Horatio frowned. He was already with...
Horatio’s heart began to thump and pound as he realized what Max was saying; he wanted to

make love to him. Horatio tensed inside Max’s embrace. It was what he had been dreaming of
since Max’s first kiss, but now that the moment was really here – he was scared.

“Max, I...” he rubbed his hands slowly down Max’s bare arms. His skin beneath his fingertips

felt so good, every ripple of his steadily developing muscles causing tingles to rush through his
body.

“We don’t have to, Horatio,” Max whispered. “I just wanted you to know that when you’re

ready, I am too. But I’ll wait, for as long as you need me to.” He kissed the corner of Horatio’s
mouth. “You’re the only one I ever want to be with, for the rest of my life.”

The tears burning hotter, Horatio trembled, “Do you really mean that?”
“I do,” Max confirmed without hesitation. “It’ll always be us, Horatio. Just you and me.

Forever.”

Horatio kissed him then hugged him fiercely, choking on a quiet sob. “I want to be with you

too, Max,” he whispered thickly, heart racing. “Tonight.”

Max tensed a little. “Are you sure?”
“I am.” Horatio nodded and cupped the back of Max’s head, pushing his forehead to Max’s

brow. “I want it, Max. So much.”

Withdrawing his arms from around him, Max cupped his face and kissed him. “I love you so

much,  Horatio,”  he  moaned  softly.  His  hands  dropped,  and  he  slowly  pulled  Horatio’s  shirt  up
over  his  head  and  dropped  it  on  the  ground,  then  caressed  his  bare  chest.  His  nipples  pebbled
beneath  Max’s  thumbs  as  they  massaged  him  gently.  When  Max  urged  him  down  on  the  grass,
Horatio didn’t resist. He’d held Max on top of him before, but it had never felt like this, never had
this promise of so much more.

Horatio trembled as Max dropped kisses all over his neck and chest and stomach, and then his

heart stalled briefly when Max popped loose the snap of his pants. They had never even gone as
far  as  oral  sex  up  until  now.  At  the  most,  they  had  fondled  each  other  through  their  pants,  but
hadn’t  actually  touched  flesh.  Horatio’s  senses  went  wild  as  Max  tugged  down  the  zipper  and
began  to  kiss  the  lowest  part  of  his  stomach,  where  his  pubic  hair  began.  A  fierce  ache  shot
through  his  groin,  and  he  moaned  loudly  without  meaning  to.  But  Max  seemed  to  like  it  and
carefully slid his pants off his hips and down enough to expose his throbbing erection.

His fingers gouged the ground, body tense as he could feel Max’s mouth so close to his

hardness. He stared up at the full moon as tears slipped from the corners of his eyes, his heart
bursting with love for Max. He gasped when Max rubbed his hand up Horatio’s stiff shaft, then
massaged the tip with his thumb. His chest hitched and hips jerked, then his whole body reacted to
Max’s warm, slick tongue licking him.

“Fuck!” Horatio bucked a little and dug his fingers deeper into the earth. He cried out again,

much louder, when Max took him in his mouth. “Oh my god! Uuh! Max!” It was good that they
hadn’t tried to do this secretly in one of their bedrooms, because there was no way he could have
kept quiet. Horatio would have awakened the entire house. Releasing the ground, Horatio grabbed
fists of Max’s hair, panting hard. “Oh god...oh fuck...Max...Ahhh!”

Max stroked up and down on him until Horatio was sure he would go blind.
A soft groan rolled up Max’s throat, and he pulled off him, then wiped his fingertips across his

lips and smiled. “You taste really good.”

Horatio’s head dropped back against the grass as a half laugh, half cry burst out of him. “That

was...it felt so...fucking amazing.”

“So you liked it?”
Laughing, Horatio yelled, “Yes!”
“Good,” Max murmured. “Because I liked doing it.” He pulled Horatio’s pants the rest of the

way off, then sat back on his heels and unfastened his own pants. Horatio watched him, his heart
pounding and sticking in his chest. Max stood up and shoved his pants down his legs, then kicked
them off his feet. He stared down at Horatio, his beautiful body awash in moonlight, his green eyes
slightly shadowed but still catching glints of light.

Sitting forward, Horatio shifted onto his knees and rubbed his hands up Max’s legs. The boy

smiled softly and slid his fingers through Horatio’s hair. “You’re the best thing that ever
happened to me, Horatio,” he whispered. He cupped Horatio’s face and leaned down, kissing his
lips. “Please don’t ever stop loving me.”

“Never,” Horatio moaned against his mouth. “I’ll love you forever, Max.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.” Before he could pleasure Max as Max had done to him, he was on his back again

on the cool grass, Max on top of him, kissing and caressing him. Their naked bodies wrapped
around each other – then Horatio was on his stomach, the scent of the fresh grass filling up his
nostrils. Max rubbed and massaged the back of his thighs and up over his butt cheeks, then he was
kissing him all over. He coated his fingers with saliva then began working them inside Horatio one
at a time. “Shit!” Horatio shoved his head against the ground, then cried out shrilly as Max
reached in deeper and found a place that exploded Horatio with mind-shattering ecstasy. “Fuck!
Max!”

After working in a couple more fingers carefully and gently, Max stroked him until he was

nearly crying with the need to come. But before he could go over that edge, Max withdrew his
fingers. Horatio panted against the blades of grass, his whole body tingling and sporting an
erection like he’d never had in his life.

“Are you okay?” Max’s voice shook, and he kissed Horatio’s soft rear, then the small of his

back.

Horatio nodded, breath ragged. “Uh huh.”
“Do you still want to make love?”
Oh God, yes! Horatio nodded again. “Yes...please, Max.”
Max drew back and slicked his cock with spit, and let more saliva drip down between

Horatio’s cheeks. Then he was hovering over the top of him and very slowly pushed inside.

“Uh!” Horatio tensed instantly as, at first, it hurt more than felt good.
Max wrapped his arms around him and held him tight, taking his time until Horatio began to

relax and he was able to enter him all the way. It didn’t take long for the pain to subside and the
ecstasy to return as Max began to stroke deep inside him, finding that “spot” again. They found
their rhythm, and their bodies began to move together in perfect sync.

Pants and cries filled the night. Exclamations of love burst out into the moonlight. Max turned

Horatio onto his back and made love to him face to face, crushing him in his arms, kissing him
with desperation as their passion swelled until they both cried out in final release, tears streaking
their faces as sobs broke them and they held each other tight, clinging together for dear life.

“You promised,” Max pressed his head to Horatio’s brow, tears running freely. “You promised

to love me forever.” His hands shoved through Horatio’s hair, and he choked on a sob and kissed
the boy. “You have to keep that promise. I can’t live without you. I couldn’t breathe if you stopped
loving me.” He dropped his face against Horatio’s neck and cried harder. “I love you so much,
Horatio. So much it hurts.”

Horatio cried against his shoulder, hugging him so tight. He understood what Max meant; his

love for the other boy clutched at his heart, tearing it apart and at the same time holding it

together. And it did hurt. But it was a good hurt. One that Horatio prayed would never let go of
either of them.

* *

Horatio came back from his tortured memories rather suddenly when the courtroom door opened. He
wiped quickly at his face, struggling to erase the evidence of his tears, his pain. He rubbed the sleeve
of his suit across his eyes and cleared his throat. But it was all in vain when Max stepped out and that
memory of their first time overwhelmed him once more. He turned his back to Max and walked away
a few feet. He needed to regain his composure, not allow Max to see again how much he was dying
inside. He hated himself, because back inside the courtroom Seth was waiting for him, trusting him at
his word that everything was over between him and Max and that he wouldn’t try to go back to the
man. But he wanted to. God, he wanted to – so fucking bad!

“Horatio?” Max spoke uncertainly. “Jensen is about to make his opening statement.”
The carpet blurred and swam. “I’ll be there in a minute,” he whispered, voice thick with tears.
Max lingered. “Is something wrong?” Uncertainty strained his words. “Did Jensen tell you

something that you didn’t tell us?”

His eyes closed, squeezed tight, and he fought for control. You have to go back in there, and you

can’t let Seth see how upset you are. Get a grip . “Oh, no.” He cleared his throat and took a deep
breath. “No, everything is fine with Abel.”

“Then what is it?” Max’s voice lowered, softened.
Horatio shook his head slowly. “Nothing,” he whispered.
“You were never a good liar,” Max murmured.
Horatio absently massaged the palm of his right hand with his left thumb. “I’m moving away,

Max.” He didn’t know why he was telling him this right now. It was hardly the time.

“What?”
Drawing in a deep breath, Horatio turned around. “I’m moving away from the city. Overseas.” He

stared at Max and resisted the urge to throw himself into the man’s arm. Their time was over. Had
been for a very long while now. “Thinking maybe the French Riviera. Seth and I.” His gaze flitted
away from Max’s face as the man just looked at him. “Sell the penthouse and...and leave for good.”

“And never come back?” Max whispered, a slight glitch to his voice.
Shifting his eyes back to Max’s troubled stare, he murmured, “That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”

His throat squeezed and tears threatened. “For me to go away, make a life for myself elsewhere? Not
come around anymore.” His lips tightened, and he lowered his eyes as they began to fill. He
swallowed hard. “Leave you alone so you can get on with your life.” He looked up slowly, tears
brimming. “I’ll always do whatever you ask me to, Max.”

I never stopped loving you. I kept that promise. But you stopped wanting me to.

Chapter 8

“The Edge of Goodbye”

♦

Horatio was leaving – for good?

Max stared at him, the hurt and anguish in the younger man’s eyes too much to bear. “Horatio, I

didn’t mean...” He pressed his lips tight, throat thick. “I didn’t mean I never wanted to see you again.
Or that you should leave the city.”

“I know.” Horatio pulled his tears back, blinking them away. “But I have to leave.”
“With Seth?” Max murmured.
“Yes.”
Closing his eyes briefly, tears dampened his lashes as he asked quietly, “Do you love him?”
Horatio hesitated. “I care about him very much,” he said. “But it could become love.”
Extend your best wishes and leave it at that. Let him go. But Horatio’s confession that he could

possibly fall in love with Seth punched hard at Max’s heart. Horatio had been with a lot of men, but
never once had he been serious, or even come close to claiming “love” for any of them – other than
Abel. And though Max knew he should be happy for him, that there was actually someone else he
could see himself making a life with, he couldn’t find the joy in it. Rather, it hurt like hell. From the
moment they’d met, Horatio had had eyes only for him; his heart had beat for Max. And now, the
thought of someone taking that away...

You are a selfish bastard, Maxwell Raines. You push him away for twenty years – and now you

want to begrudge him finding someone who will let him love them? Even if you could have him,
you don’t fucking deserve him.

“That’s good,” Max forced out. “That he means that much to you.”
The tears were back in Horatio’s eyes. “Do you love Carl?”
“We just started dating,” Max whispered.
The look that crept into Horatio’s eyes ripped at Max’s heart. “Do you still love me?”
Had he actually asked that? “Horatio...”
“Do you, Max?”
Max squeezed the back of his neck and looked at the floor. “Why are you doing this, Horatio?”
“I just want to know.” The shadow of desperation in his voice pulled Max’s eyes back to his face.
“Why?” he asked thickly, heart aching. “What does it matter anymore?”
Horatio’s brow pinched. “It matters,” he whispered unsteadily, “to me. It used to matter to you,

too. Don’t you remember...any of it?”

I remember, God dammit! I remember too fucking well! I wish I didn’t! Tears knotted Max’s

throat. “That was another lifetime, Horatio,” he said thickly. “Things were different. We can’t be held
accountable for what we said...promises we made...back then.”

Horatio nodded slowly, a vacant look creeping into his eyes. “Right,” he murmured. “Of course

not.” He took a deep breath and somehow pulled himself back together – outwardly, anyway. “After
Abel’s trial, I’ll be leaving for good. I wish you and Carl the best.”

He walked back to the courtroom before Max could reply. A numbness spread through Max’s

body, permeating his heart. It’s best if he leaves. All you do is add to the hurt you started twenty
years ago when you walked out on him. He died that day.

Tears rose and slid down Max’s face. He stared blankly down the corridor. “I died too.”

* *

“Are you packed?”

Max stared at the sports bag sitting on the bed. His throat hurt when he spoke. “You didn’t

have to say anything,” he whispered, tears burning. “You could have just let us be together. We
didn’t have to know.”

“I couldn’t do that, Max.”
“Why?” Max choked and looked at him. “You’re the only one who knew.”
Xavier just shook his head slowly.
Max gripped the edges of the sports bag, face tight. “How can you make me leave like this?”

He swallowed thickly. “Just let me tell him goodbye.”

“You know how he would react to you leaving,” Xavier said. “No, it’s better this way. I’ll tell

him everything once you’re gone. But I think it’s best if you’re not here when I do.”

Max closed his eyes, the hurt coursing through him; when Horatio came home and found him

gone...

“Horatio will never have a clear head in this matter, Max,” Xavier said. “You have to be the

one to think rationally. To face the reality of the situation. It will always have to be you. Horatio
will never see past his love for you.” The man entered the room. “Horatio has always looked up to
you, Max. He trusts you to look out for him, and right now – whether he understands it or not – he
needs you to do what’s best for him...and walk away from this. You’ve always been the stronger
one.”

I’m not strong. I want to die. Tears formed thick in his eyes. “What if we just-”
“No,” Xavier spoke firmly and gripped Max’s shoulder. “You do what’s right, Max. Do it for

Horatio, and do it for yourself.” He shook his head. “I don’t want to have to say this, but I will. If
you try to be with Horatio...I will cut him off, remove him from my will. Right now, he is set for
life. The world at his fingertips. Once he graduates, he can do anything he wants, be anything he
wants to be. The sky is the limit, and his future is bright. But whether it remains that way – is up to
you, Max.”

Max looked at him, throat tight. “You would...disown him?”
“This isn’t right, Max,” Xavier said. “And you know it. Horatio isn’t capable of making the

right decision. You have to be the one to make it for him. If you really love him, and I know you
do...then do what’s right. He will be upset at first, that’s to be expected. But he will get it over,
and so will you. You will both move on, make good lives for yourselves, find other people to fall in
love with. But it all starts right here, with you.” He squeezed Max’s shoulder gently. “More than
ever before, Horatio needs you to be strong for him now. Finish packing, get on that plane, and go
to Harvard. Start your future.” He squeezed his shoulder again, and Max had the urge to slap his
hand away. “It’s time for Horatio to stand on his own two feet. He will be okay, Max.”

No he won’t. You don’t know him like I do. He won’t be okay.
“I’ll leave,” Max whispered thickly and jerked closed the zipper on the bag. “But I’m not

going to Harvard. I’m just...going.”

“Max,” Xavier shook his head. “Don’t throw away your future over this. I’m offering you the

world as well.”

“No,” Max choked and shouldered the bag then looked at the man through a wall of tears.

“You just took it away.”

* *

A slight tremor shook Max’s hand when he reached up and wiped the tears from his face. What the
hell was happening to him? He’d managed to make it this far in life without those memories crushing
him. Why were they weighing on him so heavily now? Why couldn’t he resist them anymore, refuse to
think about them? He turned, his eyes bleary with tears, and stopped short. Carl stood outside the
courtroom door. The man just stared at him, a myriad of emotions in his eyes.

“Carl...” he faltered. “I...I was just on my way back in.”
Shaking his head slowly, Carl murmured, “It’s okay. I get it.”
“Carl...” Max’s throat knotted tighter. “It isn’t what it looks like.” Who exactly was he trying to

convince? Carl? Or himself?

Hurt and sadness darkened his gaze, but he said nothing as he opened the door to the courtroom.
Max walked towards him. “Carl...Horatio and I, we’re not...”
“We can talk about it later,” Carl murmured, then glanced towards the courtroom. “The

proceedings are about to get underway again.”

Max nodded and followed Carl back inside, all the while wondering how he had become “that”

man, the one who always ended up hurting those who cared for him the most.

♦

“Don’t let Bronson Tate’s opening statement bother you,” Jensen told Abel. “Nothing he said is going
to matter if he can’t back it up with evidence. And all he has are a few character witnesses from the
places where Craig Grant volunteered. People who only thought they knew him. Offenders like Craig
hide from friends and family all the time, creating a clever disguise. This is actually very common.
But we,” he touched Abel’s shoulder. “We are going to rip off that mask. Are you with me?” A
shadow of a smile touched his lips.

Abel nodded. “Yeah,” he whispered. Something about this man gave him total confidence that

they could win this with their hands tied behind their backs.

“All right then,” Jensen said. “Let me go debunk his fabricated tale, then we’ll get this day done

and over with.”

“Sounds good to me,” Abel murmured, so ready for it to be over.
Jensen Taylor stood up, his very presence demanding the full and undivided attention of every

person in the room. Abel glanced at Bronson Tate. The man sat comfortably at his table, yet his eyes
locked onto Jensen, watching him warily as prey watches a predator. Abel was certain that Jensen
Taylor’s reputation preceded him; Horatio Kaplan would have none but the very best representing
him.

Approaching the jury box, Jensen took care to meet the eyes of each and every juror. He rested his

hands on the polished wood rail and ducked his head a moment, as if contemplating what he would
say. But he knew exactly what to say, Abel was aware of that much. Abel didn’t know the specifics of
what his speech would be, though. Jensen hadn’t recited it to him beforehand.

“Before I talk about Jesse Evers or Craig Grant,” Jensen raised his head, “I want to tell you about

another man. Aiden Drover. Some of you may remember his story. Aidan was an upstanding young
man in his community. Most who knew him described him as warm and generous. Some called him a
good friend. Others, the perfect neighbor. The women found him charming, even sweet. He was
always there to lend a helping hand. He never caused trouble for anyone. He was the perfect citizen,”
Jensen began to pop up one finger at a time, “The perfect neighbor, the perfect friend, even the perfect
boyfriend according to some of the ladies.” He looked at each of the jurors. “He was the perfect man
in the eyes of his small hometown community.”

Tension held Abel still in his chair as he listened intently, heart pounding.
“The perfect boy next door.” Jensen spoke low, but still loud enough for everyone to hear. He

looked down and gripped the wood railing, shaking his head slowly. “Until he brutally raped and
murdered eleven-year-old Steven Shaw.” Jensen looked up slowly. “A young boy who looked up to
Aiden and trusted him. And only then did the folks of his community understand that they had a
monster in their midst. And the deeper they peered into this perfect young man’s life...the more dark
secrets they found. Steven wasn’t his first victim.”

Abel’s arms curled around his waist as his back pressed against the chair. It made him feel sick to

know there were so many monsters like Craig still loose in the world.

“Aiden Drover,” Jensen said, “hid in plain sight. He took great care to create an image that would

protect  him  from  suspicion.  He  burrowed  into  the  heart  of  his  community...and  took  their  children
right out from under their noses. And no one once thought to look his way, because no one wants to
believe that some monsters wear the mask of a beloved friend, or colleague, or spouse. They want to
believe that all the monsters out there are easy to spot, and wouldn’t dare venture into their safe little
communities  because  they  would  be  seen  for  what  they  are.  It scares  folks  to  know  that  not  all  the
monsters lurk in the dark, but in fact walk around in the light of day and look like everyone else.” He
paused  and  took  a  moment  to  look  into  each  face  of  each  person  who  would  take  part  in  deciding
Abel’s fate. “And folks don’t like to be scared. They don’t like to feel vulnerable. And sometimes it’s
just easier, and safer, to find reasons  not to believe the monster exists. To embrace a stereotype that
is more comfortable, and less threatening.”

Jensen turned slowly and looked at Abel, his back to the jurors. Abel stared at him.
“And for those who knew Craig Grant...” Jensen spoke evenly. “Jesse Evers was that stereotype.

A troubled kid from a broken home. It made sense that he would lash out against a figure of authority,
it wasn’t uncommon. It made much more sense that he should be the culprit – than their beloved Craig
Grant. But,” he turned and faced the jurors once more. “But, like Aiden Drover, Craig Grant was the
monster hiding in plain sight. Building the façade of a generous, loving young man who cared deeply
for our lost children. Burrowing into trusting hearts, and then stealing away the innocence of our
youth.”

Chapter 9

“The Innocent”

♦

“That was a smart move.” Though his eyes were facing forward, Devlin’s ears shifted focus to what
Samuel was telling the others in the row behind him. “The Aiden Drover case was big deal. Getting
the jurors to associate Craig Grant with Aiden Drover will put them in the right mindset to see Craig
for what he was. And once that seed is planted, it can’t be uprooted. So now, even if Tate tries to
play on Craig’s reputation, the jurors will be more consciously aware that Aiden Drover had an
excellent reputation as well and that those around him knew nothing of what he was.”

Devlin rubbed his hand over his mouth. His elbows ground into his legs as he leaned forward.

Samuel continued to speak quietly to those sitting with him. Whether it was his imagination or not,
Devlin felt as if they were trying to keep him from hearing their words. He felt far too conspicuous in
the courtroom, being the brother of the murdered child rapist. All of his friends seemed hesitant to say
anything to him directly about Craig, as if he might take offense or feel they were somehow
transferring the guilt onto him. He shifted his eyes from Jensen to Abel, the love of his life – whom
Craig had raped for two years.

Jensen was right about Craig – he had hidden in plain sight. Carefully inserted himself into the

very walk of life that would offer him kids for the taking. And troubled kids, at that. Even if they had
tried to tell what was being done to them, who would have taken their word over Craig’s? Devlin’s
throat knotted; he hadn’t. He had called Abel a liar. And not just a “liar” but a lying whore. Tears
rose as he stared at Abel; what if the jury saw him the same way? The boy was scared. He knew –
like everyone else – that one’s innocence didn’t always guarantee a “not guilty” verdict. It was all in
how the jurors interpreted the evidence. Something could go wrong, and Abel could be put away.

His head lowered into his hands. Craig had destroyed enough of Abel’s life. He prayed he

wouldn’t continue to do so from the grave.

A hand gripped his shoulder then rubbed his back gently. He swallowed thickly and raised his

head. Gabe slid his arm around his shoulder, and it felt good, comforting. “Hang in there, doc,” he
murmured. “We’re gonna get through this. Abel is going to be just fine.”

Devlin nodded slowly. “I know.” But it still hurt so much, even now, the way he had defended

Craig and had turned on Abel. No one blamed him, Abel least of all. But Devlin blamed himself. He
had nearly destroyed Abel.

“None of what your brother did reflects on you,” Gabe told him quietly, sincerely. “I know it hurts

to hear these things, but Craig’s guilt is his own, not yours.”

“I knew what he was,” Devlin choked out in a whisper. “I mean, I knew it, inside. And I just...”

He shook his head. “If I’d just faced it, maybe...” He looked at Abel again. “Maybe I could’ve
stopped him before he’d gotten to Abel.” He ducked his head and drove his hands into his hair. “But I
just closed my eyes to it and didn’t warn anyone. I mean, fuck – he did it to my own best friend. How
the fuck could I just...”

“Hey.” Gabe tightened his arm around him and hugged him closer. “Easy, doc. You were a kid,

trying to protect yourself. You looked up to your brother, and you didn’t want to believe he could be

that way. Our minds play tricks on us to try and protect us from the things that hurt too much. You’re
not to blame, in any way. Craig’s sins are his own – and no one else’s.”

They both focused their attention forward again as Jensen continued.
“And let me tell you about this troubled young man, as Mr. Tate labeled him. Jesse Evers and his

little  sister  Kimberly  –  now  known  as  Savannah  –  were  the  children  of  addict  parents,  severely
neglected.  Often,  Jesse  had  to  go  begging  to  the  neighbors  for  food  to  feed  his  sister,  going  hungry
himself on more than one occasion when there wasn’t enough food for them both. Jesse looked after
his little sister, took care of her...protected her.” He gazed at the jurors. “And the love that drove him
to keep her safe remained when they came to the orphanage. And when Craig Grant,” he smacked his
hands down on the railing, “took it upon himself to rape ten-year-old Kimberly, Jesse intervened. He
took the abuse in his sister’s place. Not once. Not twice. But multiple times over the course of two
years. Two years. ” He straightened up, face tight with real  emotion,  authentic  indignation.  “For two
years, Craig Grant sexually assaulted Jesse Evers, threatening the boy that if he told – then the abuse
would be turned onto his little sister.”

Tears ran down Devlin’s face as his eyes rested on Abel. The young man sat stone still, his arms

hugging his waist, face wet. I’m sorry, baby, Devlin cried silently. I shouldn’t have pretended it
wasn’t happening; I should have told. I should have stopped him long before he hurt you.

♦

“Jesse Evers was not a young adult during his years of being assaulted by Craig Grant – but a boy. A
child. And I will prove to you that Jesse’s course of action was an act of self-defense, rather than an
act of unnecessary, irrational violence on the part of a troubled kid. Jesse Evers was not troubled.
He was a victim of severe sexual abuse...with only one option to make it stop.” He looked around at
the jurors, his voice lowering, softening even. “And he made it stop.”

Sitting directly behind Abel, Cole could see the tremor in the young man’s body. He wanted to

lean over the short barrier and wrap the boy in his arms, hold him tight, but he couldn’t do that. Not
yet, anyway.

Jensen returned to the table and sat down, then leaned over and spoke quietly with Abel, his hand

resting gently on his shoulder. For the man’s stern appearance, Jensen Taylor had a heart the size of
Texas – for which Cole was grateful. Abel didn’t need a callous, all-business attorney who
possessed no trace of human emotion. But then, Cole couldn’t imagine Horatio pairing Abel with
someone like that. In his own way, Horatio Kaplan loved Abel as well.

While they waited for Jensen to call Abel to the stand, Gabe stepped out for a quick bathroom

break. Cole withdrew his arm from Savannah’s shoulder as she talked quietly with Maddy and slid
down closer to Devlin. He clasped the doctor’s shoulder. “You doing okay, doc?”

Devlin nodded but didn’t look so “okay.”
Cole glanced back at the doors, then leaned forward on his knees. He didn’t really want to bring

this up right now, with the trial going on, but he needed to talk to Devlin while Gabe was out. “Are
you working tonight?” Cole asked him quietly.

“Just one shift,” Devlin said. “Why?”
“I can’t talk about it right now,” Cole told him, “but do you think I could come to the hospital

later, talk to you then?”

Licking his lips slowly, Devlin nodded. “Of course.” He frowned, concerned. “Is everything all

right? Is it about Gabe?”

“No,” he assured. “No, Gabe is doing fine. This is...” His lips tightened. “It’s about something

else. What time does your shift start?”

Devlin told him, “Eight o’clock.”
“Okay. I’ll come down around eight or eight-thirty.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “And don’t

say anything to Gabe, okay? It’s something I need to take care of myself. I’ll talk to him about it later.”

“Of course,” Devlin nodded. “Whatever you want. I won’t say a word.”
Cole squeezed his shoulder. “Thanks.” He glanced at Abel. “It’ll be over soon. Then you two can

relax. Until tomorrow, anyway.” Tomorrow it would be Devlin’s turn on the stand.

♦

Why the hell did you ask him if he still loved you?

The question beat at Horatio’s mind until it was bruised and his head began to ache. Being around

Max, it was tearing him apart at the seams. And allowing himself to delve back into that memory of
their first time making love – that had been a huge mistake. Everything was still too vivid: Max’s
pleas for Horatio to say he loved him, to promise he would always love him, his insistence that he
couldn’t live without Horatio, couldn’t breathe without him.

Horatio closed his eyes. A lump formed thick in his throat. He wanted to cry and despised himself

for it. Please, God, don’t let me break down. Not here, not now . But he felt dangerously close to
doing just that. The warmth of Max’s body brushing against him only weakened him all the more. It
hadn’t been so long since he’d been in Max’s bed, in his arms, savoring the man’s passion for him.
And he didn’t know how not to want it again.

He shuddered when Seth slipped his hand into Horatio’s and squeezed gently. Oh God, Seth, I

don’t deserve you, baby. You should have turned me down when I asked you to come with me
again. You should have run far away from me. I am so fucked up.

Horatio responded and wrapped his fingers around Seth’s hand, then leaned over and pressed his

face into Seth’s hair. “When we get back to the penthouse,” Horatio whispered, his voice thick,
strained, “I want to make love to you all night long.”

Lifting his head, Seth looked at him. There was a quiet anguish in his beautiful eyes. He wanted

Horatio  to  love  him  for him...and  not  because  he  reminded  him  of  a  younger  Max.  But  Horatio  had
already confessed to him that that was what had drawn him in the first place, his resemblance to the
“Max”  who  had  loved  him  openly.  Seth  had  even  allowed  him  to  call  him  Max  while  they’d  made
love,  and  Horatio  had  done  so.  But  that  was  before  he  and  Seth  had  decided  there  was  something
more between them. Now all of that was coming back on them, no doubt crashing in on Seth as he saw
the way Horatio still looked at Max, the longing and desire in him for the other man.

But Seth voiced none of it as he leaned against Horatio, laying his head on his shoulder,

confessing quietly, “I want that too.”

Horatio kissed his hair and let his lips linger, his vision blurring. Why was it the innocent ones

who always seemed to suffer the most?

Chapter 10

“Truth of the Matter”

♦

His mind went numb the moment he was called to the stand. His own voice sounded far away when
he swore to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth – so help me, God. Abel’s hands
shook and squeezed into fists in his lap behind the witness stand. He was thankful he didn’t have to
try and stand on his feet while he gave his testimony; he didn’t think he could have managed that.
Nausea churned his guts, and he wondered if he would make it through this without vomiting.

Devlin caught his eye and held his stare for a moment. The love and support emanating out from

the man calmed him somewhat. His greatest fear about today wasn’t in having to tell what had
happened to him, but in having Devlin and Savannah hear it. But Devlin knew what to expect, and he
now knew what his brother had been. He was there for Abel; he was on Abel’s side. He wasn’t in the
courtroom today to challenge the truth of Abel’s testimony, but to support it and back it up.

I love you, baby, Abel told him silently, his throat aching. I’m so sorry you have to hear this.
When his gaze slid over to Gabe and Cole, another wave of calm settled over him, his guardian

angels – who would break into prison if they had to, just to be with him, protect him. His eyes rested
on Gabe for a moment; they had used Abel to torture him, making him believe that he was helpless to
save the boy he loved. And for a man like Gabe – that kind of psychological torture was worse than
any physical pain. The man gazed back at him, his love for Abel easily visible in his eyes even from
across the courtroom. If things hadn’t worked out with Devlin...would Cole and Gabe have taken him
for their own? As he stared at the two men, the answer was obvious and left no room for doubt or
wondering.

Jensen approached the stand, drawing Abel’s focus back to the task at hand. “Abel,” he said, “I

want you to tell the court, in your own words, about the day you met Craig Grant for the first time.”

Drawing a shaky breath, Abel’s lips tightened and he nodded slowly. “My sister and I had only

been at the orphanage a couple weeks when Craig began volunteering there. Missus Keller, one of the
counsellors, introduced me to Craig. Said he was from a Christian outreach center and was there to
help, and said I could talk to him if anything was bothering me or I just felt the need to talk about
things.”

“Did you like Craig when you first met him?” Jensen asked.
Abel bit his lower lip and shook his head. “No,” he murmured.
“Why is that?”
“He...” Abel’s gaze jumped quickly to Devlin then back to Jensen. “Something in the way he

looked at me, it made me uncomfortable.”

“How so?”
“I don’t know...” Abel frowned. “I just felt queasy and scared.”
“Did he say or do anything to make you feel that way?”
Abel shook his head. “No. It was just something in his eyes. I didn’t...I didn’t feel safe with him.”
Nodding slowly, Jensen cleared his throat. “And after that first meeting, what kind of interaction

did you have with him?”

“Not much,” Abel admitted. “I mean, I tried not to, anyway. He would come into the rec room,

hang out with the other kids. But he was always watching me and Savannah.”

“Watching you how?” Jensen asked. “In a big brother, concerned manner?”
“No,” Abel answered quickly, shaking his head, remembering how Craig’s stare used to make

him feel exposed – naked. “It was a look of lust.”

“How old were you then?”
“Almost thirteen.”
“Did you even understand what lust was?” Jensen asked. “Are you sure that’s how he was looking

at you and your little sister?”

“I knew,” Abel said quietly. “Sometimes my parents would have company over, other users. I

saw that look in both my mom and my dad’s eyes when they wanted to...to have sex with someone
other than each other. I saw it all the time.”

“I see,” Jensen murmured. “And you say that Craig wasn’t just watching you...but your sister as

well?”

Abel’s stomach twisted painfully at the memories. “Yes.”
“How old was your sister at the time?”
“Ten.”
“Did Craig ever approach you or your sister directly?”
Abel nodded. “A couple times. He tried to get us to play games with him in the rec room. But I

would just tell him we didn’t like games, and take Savannah to another part of the room, away from
him. After a while, he stopped trying to interact with us. But he continued to watch us.”

“Is the rec room the only place you ever saw Craig?”
Hugging his gut, Abel shook his head. “No. He came to my room once, during the day. I was

having a bad day, one of the other older kids had been pushing me around, calling me a faggot. I was
on my bed, crying. Craig came in and said that the other boy had been reprimanded.”

“Did Craig do anything while he was in your room?”
“He sat on the bed and started rubbing my back, telling me he was my friend, that I could come to

him and tell him anytime someone bothered me.” Abel tightened his arm around his waist. “Then he
told me it was okay if I was gay, he said he liked boys too. Then he...”

“What?” Jensen prodded gently when Abel faltered.
Abel glanced at Devlin again. Though the hurt in the man resonated across the courtroom, he

nodded at Abel to continue. Abel looked away. “He started...touching me. Rubbing his hand on
my...on my rear.”

“What did you do?”
“I moved away from him real quick and sat in the corner of my bed against the wall. I told him to

leave me alone.”

“Did he leave you alone?”
Abel nodded. “He said okay and went to the door, then looked at me and said he liked girls too,

then he left. I didn’t know what he was talking about when he said that.”

“What was he talking about?”
“Savannah,” Abel said thickly.
“Objection.” Tate stood up. “Speculation. Jesse Evers was not a mind reader.”
“Sustained.” The judge looked at Jensen Taylor. “Re-word your question or move on.”
Jensen nodded, un-phased by the objection. “Why do you think he was referring to Savannah?”
Abel trembled, tears forming as he looked at Savannah, tucked beneath Cole’s protective arm,

Maddy next to her, holding her hand. He bit his lip to keep his chin from quavering. “Because that
night...” Abel shuddered, “Craig tried to rape her.”

♦

Squeezing his eyes shut, Devlin battled the nausea rising up fast. He didn’t know if he could stop
himself from vomiting and thought it might be a good idea to run to the restroom. But if he left now,
what would Abel think? He knew why Abel was so uneasy about taking the stand. He didn’t want
Devlin to have to hear the details of his brother’s transgressions. Abel felt guilty about forcing him to
listen to it all.

Devlin ducked his head, tears burning. It hurt so bad that Abel would feel any level of guilt about

anything concerning Craig. Abel was the victim.

“You say he tried,” Jensen said. “What stopped him?”
He could see the tremors in Abel from where he sat. A strained look tightened Abel’s face. “I

did.”

“Can you describe to the court the events of that night?”
Abel nodded and swallowed hard, his eyes catching Devlin’s stare. It’s okay, baby, I know now

the monster that he was. You don’t have to be afraid to say it . But after Devlin’s initial reaction to
Abel’s revelation about Craig...he wondered if he had forever damaged something in Abel that kept
the boy from fully trusting him to be on his side. Please, God, don’t let that be so. Please assure him
that I’m on his side all the way.

“I was asleep in my room,” Abel’s voice shook. “Across the hall from my sister’s room. She had

been sharing it with another girl, but the girl had been adopted, and at the time, she was sleeping in
there alone.” He swallowed thickly and glanced at his family then jumped away. “I woke up to the
sound of her cries. They weren’t real loud, but enough to wake me up. I ran over to her room and...”
His eyes filled, and he stared down into his lap.

Devlin’s chest tightened until it felt like it would crush in on itself. He knew what Abel had found

inside that room.

“What did you see?” Jensen asked.
“Craig,” Abel trembled, then his voice cracked a bit. “He was...he was on top of my sister, trying

to...” The boy looked as sick as Devlin felt. A tear slid down Abel’s cheek as he looked at Savannah,
who had turned and buried her face in Cole’s shoulder. “He was trying to pry open her legs and get
his hands under her night gown.”

Jensen clearly wasn’t enjoying having to make Abel recite these details. “What did he do when

you came into the room?”

“He told me to get out,” Abel said. “But I didn’t. I attacked him. Punching, kicking, screaming at

him to leave her alone.” More tears ran down his face as his voice thickened.

“And what did he do then?”
Abel took on a distant look. “He hit me. Then he grabbed me and told me to leave or take her

place.”

“What choice did you make?”
“I couldn’t let him hurt her,” Abel choked on a sob. “I wouldn’t let him.”
Jensen rubbed his hand slowly over his mouth, his lips tight as he asked, “And then what

happened?”

Abel stared at Savannah as the girl clung to Cole and cried quietly. His eyes slowly shifted to

Devlin’s wet face as he spoke with an empty tone – “He raped me.”

♦

The young girl trembled in his arms, and Cole held her tighter, his lips pressed to her head, tears
dripping into her hair. It was a fucking good thing for Craig Grant that he was already dead. Cole’s
heart squeezed and clenched and he hugged Savannah closer, whispering softly to her. Then Gabe’s
arm was around his shoulder, his other arm wrapping around both Cole and Savannah. Having had a
bullet recently go through him, this couldn’t be very comfortable for him, but still he held onto them,
his face pressed against Cole’s neck.

God, I love this man.
When Jensen continued, Cole and Gabe faced forward again, though Savannah kept her face

buried against Cole.

“Was that the only time that Craig sexually assaulted you?”
Abel shook his head slowly, throat working. The despair, and even fear, on his face crushed

Cole’s heart, and he had to fight the urge to run to him, hold him, and make all his pain go away.

“No,” Abel said. “He...he did it many times over.” His head ducked, and he shook with a sob.
Jensen looked at him. “I know this is hard to talk about, Abel,” he said with gentleness. “But I

need you to tell the court what, exactly, he did to you.”

“Everything,” Abel shuddered.
“Did he make you do things to him as well?”
Nodding, Abel looked down. Tears dripped off his face. “He made me perform oral sex on him.”
“Did he perform oral sex on you as well?”
“Yes,” Abel choked. “He wanted me to...” He looked at Jensen, a silent plea in his eyes to not

make him say anymore, but still he went on. “He wanted me to have an erection when he raped me. It
excited him, as if it made him think I liked it or something.”

Cole shifted on the bench. “Why is this necessary?” he asked tightly, thickly. “Why the fuck does

he have to detail every fucking thing that was done to him? The motherfucker raped him, what else do
they fucking need to know?”

“I don’t know,” Gabe murmured. His arm remained around Cole’s shoulder, fingers absently

stroking the back of his head. “But everything Jensen is doing is for the purpose of winning this case
for Abel. We just have to trust him.”

“I get that,” Cole swallowed hard. “I just can’t fucking take it, seeing Abel have to sit up there

and talk about this shit. Look at him.”

“I hate it too,” Gabe said, notable emotion in his voice. He glanced at Devlin. The man’s head

was in his hands, body trembling with quiet sobs. “We’re not the only ones.” He withdrew from Cole
and leaned over, sliding his arm around Devlin. “It’ll be over soon, doc,” he whispered and rubbed
his hand over the back of the man’s head. “Just hang in there. We gotta stay strong, for Abel.” Devlin
nodded but didn’t raise his head, as if merely looking at Abel up there would break him apart.

Chapter 11

“Barely Holding On”

♦

I can’t do this . Abel couldn’t stop the shakes as he told how he had begged Craig repeatedly to stop
what he was doing, that he didn’t want to do it anymore, and how Craig had insisted it didn’t matter
what he wanted. The tears gushed when he described how excited Craig became whenever Abel
cried out in pain, and got off on hurting him.

But what hurt most of all was watching Devlin fall beneath his words, crumble under the weight

of  his  brother’s  unforgivable  sins.  And  Savannah,  having  shared  in  some  but  not  all  of  Abel’s
nightmare, breaking down as she came to the full understanding of what Abel had really gone through
during their time at the orphanage. Being forced to hear her brother tell how he used to fantasize about
killing  himself,  just  wanting  the  pain  and  abuse  to  stop  –  but  that  it  was  because  of  her  that  he  had
forced  himself  to  endure,  to  keep  suffering  so  that  she  wouldn’t  be  left  there  alone  to  be  raped  and
abused herself.

He was a mess when the judge took pity on him and called for a two hour recess.
His legs shook and nearly buckled beneath him when he stepped down off the witness stand.

Tears continued to run down his face, and his head felt light, dizzy. Jensen took his arm gently and
walked him back to the gate. As soon as he stepped through, arms encircled him. At first he didn’t
know which of his family was holding him, and then Devlin’s light cologne filled his senses, and he
clung to him, breaking down, telling him again and again that he was sorry. Devlin crushed him in his
embrace and cried against his neck.

Nausea hit him suddenly, and he pulled back quickly. “I’m gonna be sick.” He trembled and his

head went light again. More hands grabbed him and moved him hurriedly towards the back of the
courtroom, then the corridor and into the nearest restroom, where he vomited into the toilet. A hand
rubbed his back soothingly as he forced out the remnants of the toast he’d eaten that morning, but there
was nothing else to come up, though his body tried to push out what wasn’t there. He coughed and
clutched the toilet seat, sweat slicking his face, tears dripping into the mess in the toilet bowl.

The toilet flushed, and then he was being stood up and moved to the sink. The cold water turned

on and paper towels were dampened. Someone was behind him, their arms around him, holding him
secure as the second person washed his face with the cool towels. When the dizziness abated and his
eyes focused, he was staring into Cole’s concerned eyes as he continued to press the damp towels to
his cheeks and brow. In the mirror, he saw Gabe behind him. The love and worry in the men’s faces
broke him, and Cole drew him forward into his arms as well, enveloping him between both their
bodies. His face pressed firm against Cole’s chest as more tears soaked into the man’s shirt.

Cole cupped the back of his head and kissed his hair as Gabe’s lips touched his neck, his shoulder

in soft, affectionate kisses. “This is fucking bullshit,” Cole shuddered, tears thick in his voice. He
was speaking to Gabe, low and pissed. “They can’t put him back on the stand for that fucker Tate to
try and tear apart his testimony. How fucking blind does he have to be to see he isn’t making this shit
up?”

Gabe kissed Abel’s head then Cole’s mouth. “We have a couple hours,” he murmured. “We can

talk to Jensen Taylor, see if Abel will even be expected to go back on the stand.”

Hugging Abel tighter, Cole whispered dangerously, “Maybe I should have a little talk with

Bronson Tate before he goes back into the courtroom.”

“You can’t do that, Cole,” Gabe said quietly, a warning tone in his voice. “As much as I would

love to tell you to go for it, you can’t. It won’t help Abel.”

A tremor ran through Cole’s body, and Abel hugged him harder, loving him so much for his

desperate need to keep him safe. Next to Max, Cole was the first one to take Abel under his wing and
show such a fierce protective spirit over him. And Gabe was a close second.

When Abel shifted, they loosened their hold and gave him room to move. Cole grabbed a paper

cup from the dispenser by the sink, filled it with cold water, and handed it to Abel. He drank it down.
It tasted good but didn’t get rid of the burning in his throat. Cole rubbed his thumb over Abel’s wet,
flushed cheek. “You gonna be okay, babe?”

Abel didn’t think so, but he nodded anyway. “Yeah,” he said thickly. He sniffed and wiped at his

face. Cole handed him a paper towel to blow his nose and another to dry his eyes. Gabe’s hands were
still resting on his waist, as if the man were ready at any moment to grab hold of him again if he
needed the safety of his arms.

♦

“I don’t know if Abel can take this.” Horatio shoved his hands through his hair and leaned against the
wall outside the courtroom. Max lingered as the others filtered out into the corridor. “Maybe this was
a mistake, having him go to court.” It hurt like hell to see Abel breaking down.

“No,” Max murmured, his hands shoved in his pockets. He stared at the floor, merely casting

Horatio fleeting looks. “This needs to be taken care of, once and for all.”

“You saw him, Max.” Horatio spoke low, an ache in his voice. “What if he can’t take any more?

He’s been through hell once, why does he have to relive it?”

“He’s going to get through this,” Max insisted softly.
Horatio stared at him, though the man refused to really look at him. Ask me to stay, Max. The

thought hit him unexpected and unbidden. What was he thinking? He couldn’t stay. He had Seth and a
whole new life waiting for him overseas. But the downcast look on Max’s face tore at him. Was all
of it because of Abel? Or did he not really want Horatio to move away? The things he saw in Max’s
eyes, and what came out of the man’s mouth – were polar opposites. He would never admit how he
really felt as long as he believed that nothing had changed.

You’re wrong to keep this from him. He has a right to know. He has a right to make his own

decisions  based  on  the  truth.  Horatio  understood  the  truth  in  that  thought;  Max  did  have  a  right  to
know.  But  once  he  said  the  words  out  loud,  once  Max knew...Horatio  wouldn’t  be  able  to  stop
himself from pursuing Max. Even at the expense of others’ hearts. And he didn’t like that little bit of
revelation  about  himself. As  long  as  Max  didn’t  know,  then  he  would  stay  with  Carl. And  Horatio
wouldn’t break Seth’s heart.

♦

“I may throw up before this is all over as well,” Angel mumbled, feeling real nausea grind at his gut.
His heart broke for Abel, Devlin, and Savannah. He understood too well the horrors of life, and how
it could become just one long nightmare.

Dane wrapped his arm around his shoulder and kissed his head. “I know what you mean. I’m not

feeling so great myself.” He touched Maddy’s back with his free hand. The boy stood at their side, but
his full attention was on Savannah as she hugged Devlin, still in tears. Maddy clearly wanted to
comfort her but seemed at a loss as to how to go about it.

“Why does she have to be in there?” Maddy asked, hurt in his voice – as well as a tint of anger.

“Why does she have to hear all that stuff about her brother?” The was a defensiveness in his tone, and
again Angel felt a swell of pride for his little brother and the boy’s desire to protect Savannah.

“I don’t know,” Angel admitted. “It doesn’t seem necessary. But maybe it is.”
A light film of tears glazed Maddy’s eyes as he stared at the young girl. “It seems like bullshit to

me,” he muttered. “Why does Abel even have to be on trial? The guy raped him – he was just
defending himself. The bastard deserved to die.”

Angel was well aware that this “vehemence” in Maddy stemmed from their own experiences with

Wade and Byrd. Maddy wouldn’t have blinked an eye if Angel had taken either Wade or Byrd’s life
to protect himself and Maddy. The boy was doing well now that they were out of that situation, but in
circumstances such as this one with Abel, anger and indignation were quick to surface in the young
man. Angel suspected it might always be that way. And he wasn’t sure it was such a bad thing. Maddy
had a strong sense of right and wrong when it came to how people were treated by others, and their
experience had instilled a powerfully protective spirit in the boy.

Squeezing Maddy’s shoulder with affection, Dane told him, “I suppose it has to be determined if

his actions were justified, or if he could have taken another course of action. Also, I guess they’re
trying to prove whether or not he was actually assaulted in the first place.”

“So him breaking down and...and vomiting, is just an act?” Maddy asked sharply.
“It’s the legal process, Maddy,” Dane explained gently. “It runs on facts and evidence, not

emotions. But even so, the jurors are real people, and they saw the effect Abel’s testimony had on
him. That will surely work in Abel’s favor.”

The restroom door opened from down the hall, and Abel emerged with Cole and Gabe, the men

on either side of him, hands on his back. Abel was pale and looked terminally ill. Savannah rushed to
him and threw her arms around him, sobbing. Abel hugged her tight and whispered softly in her ear.
Then Devlin joined them, holding them both.

Cole’s face was tight as he approached Angel and Dane. The man looked truly pissed. Angle

hoped to never be on the wrong side of Cole – and that look on his face.

“This is fucking tearing him apart.” Cole’s voice boiled with anger and pain. He loved Abel, that

was easy to see. He and Gabe both did.

“He just has to get through the cross-examination.” Max came over and joined their little group,

followed by Carl, Caleb, and Samuel. “Then he’ll be done.”

“I don’t know if he can handle any more time on the stand,” Cole said.
Angel wondered the same thing. Would he himself do any better when it came his turn to face

Wade and Byrd in court – especially if his past concerning Dane was dug up? He just wanted that left
alone and forgotten.

“Jensen knows his stuff,” Samuel offered. “He isn’t going to let Tate badger Abel on the stand.

Though he will have to allow the man to ask certain questions.”

Gabe shook his head and rubbed his hand up Cole’s back. “I’ll just be glad when this whole

fucking thing is over.”

“Are they gonna make Savannah testify?” Maddy asked, brow tight.
Horatio approached with Seth, overhearing Maddy’s question. “Unfortunately, it is necessary,” he

Chapter 12

“Unselfish”

♦

When the group left the courthouse and gathered at a small restaurant across the street, Horatio
remained behind to speak with Jensen. Seth stayed with him, feeling out of place among the others,
especially with Max as the “head” of their party.

Seth opted to wait outside on the courthouse steps while Horatio conversed with the attorney

about Abel’s case and what was coming up next in the trial. From where he sat on the concrete steps,
in the shadows of a large pillar, he could see the others inside the restaurant, having taken a table by
one of the plate glass windows. They were a close-knit family. Much closer than most of the
traditional families Seth had encountered – including his own. Not that he had a problem with his
family. They just weren’t this bonded. And Horatio was a part of that family – or could be if he so
chose.

There was a deep emptiness in Horatio that Seth had sensed right from the start. And whenever

the man talked about Max, it was easy to see that he was the source. And now Horatio had a chance to
fill that emptiness, but he held back.

“It’s because of you, and you know it,” Seth whispered, his tone dull. He watched Max through

the restaurant window, and even from the courthouse steps he didn’t miss the man’s occasional glance
towards the large municipal structure. Seth lowered his eyes, his heart aching. For a brief moment, on
that beach by the villa, he had honestly believed he had a fighting chance for Horatio’s love. But it
had all been a dream, from which he was now awaking. Horatio belonged to Max, and he always
would.

He swallowed thickly and blinked away rising tears, then slid his fingers through his hair as he

stared down at the concrete steps. He closed his eyes; he knew what he needed to do. He just didn’t
know if he had the strength to do it.

It seemed only moments had passed when someone spoke, startling him. “Seth?”
His head jerked up to see Max climbing the steps towards him. He hadn’t been aware of the man

leaving the restaurant. Max paused a couple steps down. Seth nodded and licked his lips slowly,
anxiously; he’d never been alone with Max until this moment. “Horatio is inside, speaking with
Abel’s attorney,” he said quietly.

Max nodded but made no move to enter the courthouse. “I didn’t come over here to talk to

Horatio,” he said.

Seth stared at him, unsure how to respond.
“May I?” Max motioned towards the step that Seth was sitting on.
Lips tight, Seth nodded.
Max sat down and leaned his elbows on his knees, gazing across the street at the restaurant. “You

know, you can join us. You don’t have to sit over here alone just because Horatio isn’t there with us.”

“Thanks,” Seth mumbled, then shrugged. “I don’t really know anyone.”
“Well, you’re not going to get to know them by keeping your distance.” Max smiled warmly, and

Seth understood right then why Horatio loved him so much. The man could have just as easily given

Seth the cold shoulder, done his damnedest to make him feel uncomfortable and unwelcome, but
rather he had chosen to show himself friendly and invite Seth into their circle.

“Yeah, I suppose not,” Seth whispered, an unexpected knot tightening his throat.
Max cleared his throat and stared down at the steps. “Horatio mentioned that you and him were

moving overseas.” A slight hesitation, then, “For good.”

Nodding slowly, Seth murmured, “That’s the plan.” He felt Max’s eyes on him.
“You really care about him.” He wasn’t asking, but rather stating the obvious.
“I do.” Seth looked at him. The man stared blankly at his hands. “So do you.”
Max’s lips tightened. “Yeah,” he whispered, then met Seth’s gaze. “I do.”
“Was it hard?”
“What?” Max lowered his eyes to his hands once more.
Seth gazed at him a moment, then replied softly, “Walking away from Horatio?”
A slight tension stiffened the man’s body. He remained silent for a moment before whispering,

“The hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.” His voice was strained, and it was apparent that the
memories – and the hurt – were still as fresh for Max as they were for Horatio. “Did he tell you why I
left?”

“Yes,” Seth murmured.
Max looked at him, a forced smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Then you know you don’t

have anything to worry about. Horatio and I...” He shook his head and glanced away. “There will
never be anything there.”

Though the man tried to minimize the level of pain that had shown through, Seth felt it as

powerfully as he did in Horatio. “Do you wish there could be?”

Shaking his head slowly, Max smiled solemnly. “Seth, I’ll tell you something I’ve learned during

my time on this earth.” He looked at the younger man. “You don’t wish for the impossible. It will end
up tearing you apart. When something is gone, and you know it’s gone...then you let it go. Otherwise,
you’re just holding onto a ghost, and I guarantee you – it will haunt you all the days of your life.”

♦

“If you could go back,” Seth asked quietly, with hesitation, “knowing what you know now, would you
change things?”

Max sighed. “Do you mean would I try not to fall in love with Horatio?”
“Yeah.”
Though the answer was right there, he didn’t voice it immediately. He laced his fingers and rested

forward on his knees as the past memories of those few “free” years with Horatio swept through his
mind. They were the best years of his life.

“I would change things,” Max whispered, throat tight. “In so many ways, Horatio is a very

sensitive soul. When we were young, he eagerly gave me his heart. He didn’t hesitate.” Max shook
his head slowly, vision swimming. “And I hurt him, Seth. In a way that he never recovered from.” He
wiped his mouth and cleared his throat. “So yes, if I could go back and stop it from ever happening, I
would.”

“But you would have to give up all the good memories, too.”
“If it would prevent him from suffering for the next two decades,” Max whispered, “I would give

them up. I would rather he never loved me, and be happy in his life. Than to love me and suffer for it
every day of his life.”

Seth replied softly, “I think this world would be a much better place if more people thought like

you do, Max.” A shimmer of tears glistened his eyes. “There’s too much...selfishness in people, when
it comes to love.”

Don’t be fooled, kid. I can be as selfish as the next guy.
Seth lowered his eyes, voice dropping to a whisper. “When you want something so bad, it’s easy

to forget that you’re not always the only one who matters.”

Max sensed an underlying meaning to the young man’s words but didn’t know enough about him to

figure it out. “Well, love is the strongest force out there, Seth,” Max murmured. “It can become a real
battle doing what’s right – when it goes against what your heart wants.” A heavy smile weighed on
his lips, and he shrugged. “Trust me on that one.”

“Is this a private pow-wow? Or can anyone join?”
Max and Seth jumped when Horatio spoke from behind them. They both stood.
“It’s an open forum,” Max smiled but felt it waver as Horatio carefully avoided prolonged eye

contact. “What did Jensen have to say?”

“When the trial reconvenes, Abel will be cross-examined. And...” He sighed. “He’s considering

getting Savannah’s testimony done and over with as well.”

“Today?” Max stared at him.
“Yeah.”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Max said. “She’s as much of a mess as Abel. Wouldn’t it be

better to wait? At least until tomorrow?”

Horatio shrugged. “He thinks it might be more beneficial for the case if it was today.”
“More beneficial?” Max frowned. “Does he want to put her on the stand today because she’s in

such an emotional state? He intends to exploit her emotions?” Anger simmered in Max. “I know
Jensen is the best, but don’t you think that’s a bit harsh?”

“Abel’s life is hanging in the balance, Max,” Horatio reminded. “Jensen wins his cases because

he doesn’t take anything for granted and he plays his cards as necessary. He isn’t happy about making
this move. He’d intended to leave her testimony for later. But Abel’s recount of the events has the
jurors in a heightened, emotional state of mind. Now is the time to get Savannah to speak.”

Exhaling hard, Max squeezed the back of his neck. “I get what you’re saying. I do. It’s just...” He

shook his head. “Abel isn’t going to like this. And neither is Cole or Gabe. And I can’t imagine
Savannah will be much more favorable.”

“Ultimately,” Horatio said, “it’s up to Savannah. If she refuses to go on the stand, no one can

make her. Jensen strongly encourages it, but he won’t pressure her or make her feel like she’s letting
Abel down by not taking the stand. But he will explain to her how it could help Abel’s case. In the
end, she will be the one to decide.”

Max clamped his hands on his hips and looked across the street at the restaurant, eyes troubled.

“Do we tell them?” he murmured, then looked at Horatio. “Or leave that to Jensen?”

“That’s up to you,” Horatio said. His gaze slid over to Seth and lingered as the young man stood

with his hands stuffed in his pockets, eyes on the steps. “Right now, I need to run back to the
penthouse.” He looked at Max. “I’ll be back before the trial starts again.”

Max nodded as Horatio moved towards Seth and touched his back. He thought about Seth

implying that he was unselfish, but Max was at least honest enough with himself to admit that wasn’t
entirely true.

♦

“What did Max have to say?” Horatio asked once he and Seth were settled in the limo and headed
through the city to the penthouse.

Seth stared out the side window and shrugged, “Not a lot,” he murmured. “He just came over to

invite me to join them at the restaurant.” His gaze shifted from the window to his lap. “I like him.”

“Max is a good man,” Horatio nodded.
“After meeting him,” Seth looked up, “I feel honored that I remind you of him so much.”
Running his fingers through the young man’s hair, Horatio leaned over and kissed his neck, then

said softly, “You do remind me of him. But you’re still your own man, Seth. Maybe initially it was
your resemblance to Max that drew me to you.” He raised his head and kissed his mouth. “But now, I
just see you.” That wasn’t entirely true – for at times, when Horatio would catch a quick glimpse of
Seth, he would see Max as clear as day. But he wasn’t lying about Seth being his own man. Horatio
was with him now because of who Seth was, not because he was caught in some fantasy wherein Seth
represented Max.

“That’s nice to know,” Seth smiled, but Horatio wasn’t certain the young man completely

believed him.

When they entered the apartment less than fifteen minutes later, Seth crossed the sky blue carpet in

the living room then glanced back at Horatio. “What did you need to come back here for?”

Horatio slipped off his jacket and dropped it on the leather sofa then slowly tugged loose his tie

and stripped it off, winding it absently around his hand as he approached Seth. He let the tie fall to the
floor and squeezed Seth’s waist gently. “For this.” He kissed him deeply and wrapped his arms
around his body, then gasped softly when he drew back. “This day is too much,” he whispered
unsteadily, “I need to escape it, if only for a short while.”

Seth’s arms went around his neck and he initiated the next kiss, a quiet desperation in him.
They held onto each other as they made their way to the bedroom and fell onto the large bed

together. The passion took over and their clothes came off without hesitation, then Horatio was on his
back, Seth on top of him, fucking him with wild abandon. Horatio grabbed his hips and fucked him
back, their pants and cries twisting up together, exploding throughout the bedroom.

“Oh god!” Seth gasped hard, his body working on Horatio’s cock with fierce urgency and need.

“Oh fuck! Horatio! Uhh!”

“Fuck me, baby,” Horatio pleaded loud and unsteady, rocking with his hurried rhythm. “Oh fuck,

Seth! Harder!” He leaned forward and wrapped the kid in his arms and squeezed his body furiously
as they lost control. Seth’s dull nails gouged into Horatio’s back, gripped and clawed as the young
man cried out and rode his cock hard.

Horatio spun them around, dropping on top of Seth, mouth crushing the boy’s as he went at him

desperately, driving into him deep and hard. He broke out of the intense kiss and grabbed his neck,
biting.

“UH!” Seth yelled and clung to him tighter. “Fuck me, Horatio! Oh god! Fuck me harder! I want it!

I want you!”

You’re the only one I ever want to be with, for the rest of my life . Max’s voice exploded through

his head and he squeezed his eyes shut, struggling to force it out. It’ll always be us, Horatio. Just you
and me. A sob caught in his chest as his arms tightened around Seth, their passion and hunger spinning
his head. He panted against the young man’s neck, eyes tightly closed, tears trying to force out as the
past and the present began to merge, flow and ebb together. You’re the best thing that ever happened
to me, Horatio. Please don’t ever stop loving me.

A strangled cry wrenched out of Horatio as he shoved himself into his lover with more urgency

Chapter 13

“Broken and Spilled Out”

♦

“What is it?” Cole asked. “What did Horatio say?” He looked at Max uneasily. The man had been
oddly quiet since he’d returned to the restaurant.

Rather than answer Cole’s question, Max dug out his wallet, withdrew some bills, and handed

them to Maddy. “Why don’t you and Savannah go play some video games in the back, listen to some
music. You don’t need to be sitting here thinking about the trial. Try to relax for a little bit.”

Maddy took the money tentatively, then looked at Savannah. “Do you want to?” He nodded

towards the back of the restaurant where the video games and jukebox were located.

Savannah nodded silently, her sweet face still drawn with tension, a light sheen to her eyes that

warned that the tears remained close to the surface. When they left the table, Maddy rested his hand
lightly on her back as they walked away.

“He’s really good with her,” Abel whispered, his own tears still present. “I think it helps her a lot

that he’s here.”

“Maddy’s a good kid,” Max said softly and smiled warmly at Angel. “But then, he had a great

brother for an example.”

“Indeed.” Dane rubbed his hand down the back of Angel’s head then kissed his hair.
Cole smiled then pressed his lips tight as he looked at Max. “So why did you want them away

from the table? What’s going on?”

Releasing a slow breath, Max told them what Horatio said about Jensen wanting to put Savannah

on the stand that day.

“What?” Abel trembled. “No. She can’t do it today.”
Cole frowned. “I agree. She’s not ready.”
The others joined in unanimously that it was a bad idea.
“I’m not exactly in favor of it myself,” Max admitted. “But Jensen seems to think it would be

beneficial to Abel’s case.”

Shaking his head, Abel resisted the idea. “No. I don’t care. I don’t want her up there today.”
“No one is going to force her,” Max assured. “Jensen will leave it up to her whether or not she

wants to do it.”

“No,” Abel said tightly. “She’s still underage. She’s only sixteen. I’ll decide. And she isn’t doing

it.”

Devlin wrapped his arm around Abel. “Maybe we should talk to Savannah first.”
“No,” Abel choked, tears forming. “I don’t want her up there today.”
“Easy, babe.” Cole sat on the other side of him and touched his back. “We’ll figure all this out.”
Abel swallowed thickly and wiped at his eyes. “There’s nothing to figure out.”

♦

Savannah leaned against the wall and watched Maddy feed the dollar bills into the coin machine,

receiving quarters back in return. Her arms curled around her waist, and she glanced towards the
front of the restaurant, but couldn’t see their table from the back room.

“Do you want to play a game?” Maddy asked quietly, with hesitation. He dumped the quarters in

the front pocket of his jeans.

“I don’t know how to play any of these games,” Savannah whispered. “Could we just...listen to

music?”

“Yeah. Sure.” Maddy went to the jukebox then glanced over at her. “What do you want to listen

to?”

She shrugged. “I don’t care. Anything. Whatever you like.”
“Would you think I’m a hick if I played country music?”
Savannah smiled. “No. I like country music.”
“Phew. Good.” He made a mock swipe of his hand across his brow and grinned.
She ducked her head and laughed softly, then lifted her eyes a bit and watched him make the

selections, a smile lingering on his lips. Her heartbeat quickened. Though he was almost a year
younger than her, he seemed older. When he caught her watching him, his smile stretched a little. This
was the first time in her life she’d really had a chance to think about boys with more than a random
thought. It almost felt like fate that Maddy had become part of their “family.” Sometimes she wished
he hadn’t. Wished she’d never met him. When he was around, it was too easy to forget that she was
“damaged goods.” Or maybe she just wanted to forget, so she didn’t have to face the truth – that she
and Maddy could never be more than just friends.

“You okay?” Maddy asked uncertainly when he came back over to where she was leaning against

the wall.

Her throat felt thick and tears were trying to rise. She blinked them back and nodded. “Why do

you think they wanted us to leave the table?” she asked quietly. “Do you think something is wrong?”

“What do you mean?”
“Adults always make kids leave when they want to talk about important things.”
Maddy shrugged. “I don’t know,” he murmured, then offered encouragingly, “I’m sure everything

is fine.”

“Yeah,” Savannah whispered thickly, hugging herself tighter.
Maddy absently messed with the controls of one of the video games, his eyes down. “I’m sorry,”

he said softly, emotion thick in his voice. “About what happened to your brother.” He licked his lips
then pressed them tight and whispered, “A lot of bad things happened to Angel too.”

“I know,” Savannah said quietly. “I’m sorry too.” She glanced towards the front of the restaurant.

“I didn’t know everything, until today. He never told me everything that...” her chin trembled. “That
Craig did that to him, or that he’d thought about...about suicide.” Tears slid down her face, and she
ducked her head.

Maddy touched her arm hesitantly, then embraced her, holding her tight.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder. “It hurts,” she choked.

“It was because of me. He was trying to protect me.”

Maddy held her tighter and trembled. “I know,” he said thickly. “Angel protected me too.” His

tears seeped into her hair. A hard shudder swept through him. “My stepbrother Wade...he made me
watch one time when they...” He hugged Savannah and cried quietly. “Why are people so evil?”

“Not all of them are bad,” she whispered. “Not our family.” Her fingertips slipped through the

slightly long strands of hair at the back of his head, and she turned her face against his neck. “Not
you.”

Maddy drew back slowly, his warm, damp cheek rubbing gently across Savannah’s until his lips

were right there, so close to hers. She could feel it...he wanted to kiss her. The first time they had met,
she knew he’d wanted to kiss her then. Don’t, Maddy. Don’t like me that way. Don’t make me like
you that way. I’m broken and nothing can fix me.

Tears grew thicker as she forced herself to turn away from his lips. She laid her head on his

shoulder and squeezed her eyes shut, the warmth and strength of his arms feeling like some kind of
cruel joke being played on her.

In some ways, she felt like she was already dead. How long would it be before she really was?

♦

Horatio lifted off Seth and turned away, sitting up on the edge of the bed. His head dropped into his
hands. “Seth...” Fuck! How could he do that? “I’m...I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to...” His fingers slid up
into his hair and squeezed as a pressure swelled in his chest.

Shifting on the bed, Seth whispered, “It’s okay.”
“No.” Horatio trembled. “It isn’t.” He sniffed and swallowed hard, tears building. “I wasn’t...I

wasn’t pretending that you were him. I wasn’t...”

Seth touched his back as he sat up behind him, then kissed his shoulder. “I know.”
“I’m sorry.” Horatio clutched his hair in fists.
“It’s been a long, difficult morning,” Seth murmured and pressed his lips to the nape of his neck.

“I know all of this is hard on you.”

Horatio looked at the carpet, vision blurred. Was he speaking of the trial? Or Max? “Seth...”
“You should shower.” Seth spoke softly against his damp skin. “And get back down there. It

won’t be too long before the trial starts up again.”

Tensing, Horatio frowned. “You’re not coming back with me?” He twisted around and looked at

the young man. Seth leaned back on the pillows.

“I was thinking I would just wait here,” he said quietly, his gaze unsteady. Seth may not admit it,

but Horatio had hurt him. And why shouldn’t it hurt? He might as well have slapped him in the face.

“You don’t have to.”
“I should call Grid,” he murmured. “See if he will pack up my stuff for me.” He looked at

Horatio. “I mean, if you still want to go...”

“Of course I do.” Horatio leaned in and kissed him softly, then buried his face in his neck. “I want

you with me, Seth. I’m so sorry for what I said.”

Seth slid his fingers through Horatio’s hair and kissed his head. “I’m not mad,” he whispered

thickly.

I know you’re not mad, baby...but you’re hurt, and that’s worse.
Lifting his head, Horatio asked, “Are you sure you don’t want to come back down there with me?”
He looked away. “I don’t really bring anything to it.”
“You do for me.” Horatio touched his face, drawing his eyes back. But the look he saw there told

him that Seth didn’t entirely believe that – and why would he? Horatio had been distracted by Max
the moment they had arrived at the courthouse that morning. Even before.

“Thank you,” Seth whispered and kissed his palm. “But I should really get a hold of Grid and let

him know what’s going on, have him gather up my things. That way, we just have to stop by and grab
them and won’t have to take the extra time packing.” He sat forward and hugged Horatio, kissing his
ear. “We can just go.” The kid’s arms tightened fiercely, and Horatio embraced him as powerfully.

“All right,” Horatio said quietly. “Makes sense.” He drew back and kissed Seth on the lips. “I

wish we were going today. I’m so ready to just be...” he shook his head, throat knotting. “Just be done
with all of this.”

♦

Max didn’t say a word to disrupt the moment. He stood quietly, watching Maddy hold Savannah.
There was such an innocence in them, though both had experienced the ugliest side of life. But there
was just something “pure” about a first love. It was like life didn’t really start until that moment when
one’s heart began to beat with that special kind of love.

But when that love was born out of time, it could kill life as well.

* *

“Max?” The knocking was soft but insistent. “Please open the door. Please, Max. Tell me what’s
wrong?”

Max laid on his back and stared blankly at the ceiling, tears streaming down into his hair.

“Just go to school, Horatio,” he choked.

“Why won’t you let me in, Max?” Horatio cried. “What did I do? Why are you mad at me?”
Pain shot through Max’s chest as his chin began to tremble, and a stronger rush of tears

pushed out. “I’m not mad,” he shuddered.

“Then what’s wrong?”
“You’re gonna be late for school.” Max bit his lip and curled his arm over his eyes. “Just go.”
Silence lingered on the other side of the door, but he could feel Horatio still standing there.

“Can we talk when I get home?” His voice shook with quiet sobs. Max didn’t answer. “Please?
You’re scaring me, Max.” He choked on a soft cry. “I love you, Max.”

Max rolled onto his stomach and shoved his face in his pillow, crying.
“Max,” Horatio began to cry openly. “Do you still love me?”
Sobs twisted his body as he clutched the pillow to his face, his chest clenching until he

couldn’t breathe.

Please don’t ask me that, Horatio. I can’t tell you what you want to hear, not ever again.

* *

Max released a hard breath as the vision of Maddy and Savannah blurred and distorted through his
tears. He blinked them away quickly, but they remained much too close to the surface. Horatio had run
out of the house that morning, hurting from Max’s silence. But the hurt was nothing compared to what
he had experienced when he’d come that afternoon and found Max gone, and discovered that he’d lost
him...in every sense of the word.

Chapter 14

“Yesterday’s Promise”

♦

“What’re you doing?” Carl approached Max from behind and slid his arms around his neck, kissing
his hair. He followed Max’s gaze to the two kids holding each other and whispering softly, oblivious
of their observers.

“They look so innocent, don’t they?” Max whispered. There was a notable thickness to his voice,

and Carl had a pretty good idea where – and to whom – his thoughts had wandered. Max was trying
desperately to convince himself, and Carl, that he was letting go and moving on, but in truth – the man
was still crumbling beneath his love for Horatio Kaplan.

A great love never dies...nor can it be replaced . He’d heard that somewhere once, and now he

was seeing it in action. It seemed unfair – cruel, even – that two people in Max and Horatio’s
situation should share such great love between them. Because it left them with nowhere to go, no one
to go to. Max was trying to love him, but though there was deep affection and care in his heart for
Carl...he could never really “love” him. That reality hurt, but Carl couldn’t blame the man; his heart
was not his own.

“They’re sweet,” Carl murmured. When Max didn’t say anything else, Carl kissed his ear softly.

“Is something wrong, Max?”

Max remained silent a moment, just watching Maddy and Savannah. “Horatio is moving away,”

he said thickly, a lost tone to his voice. “For good. Overseas.” A slight shudder ran through him.
“Him and Seth.” He swallowed, his throat working against Carl’s forearm. “He isn’t coming back.”

Unsure what to say, Carl just pressed his lips to the man’s head.
“He thinks I want him to go away.”
Carl held him a fraction tighter. “Do you?” he whispered.
“I should,” Max said quietly, unsteady.
“But do you?”
“It’s best for everyone.” He turned and faced Carl and slipped his arms around his waist. “I’m

sorry if I seem...unstable,” he murmured, eyes wet with tears. “But once this trial is over,
once...Horatio is gone, then everything will be better.” He hugged Carl and rubbed his back gently,
affectionately, and kissed his throat. “I promise. And we can focus on us.” He drew back and kissed
his mouth. “I want this, Carl. I do. I’m sorry if...” He touched his head to Carl’s brow. “If my actions
around Horatio have hurt you. But I promise you, there’s nothing between us.”

Carl kissed him softly. “You don’t have to apologize.”
Max hugged him tighter and kissed his neck. “You’re a good man, Carl,” he whispered thickly.
“So are you.”
Laying his head on Carl’s shoulder, Max trembled. “I’m not so sure about that.”
Carl held him close and caressed his back tenderly. “I am.”

♦

The urge to throw up again was rising fast as the time ticked away, drawing them closer and closer
towards their return to the courtroom. Abel had been encouraged by everyone to try and eat
something, but all he had managed were a few bites of some sliced fruit, his sandwich remaining
untouched.

When Maddy and Savannah returned to the table to eat their lunch, it was left up to Abel whether

or not to mention to his sister Jensen’s suggestion. She was about as enthusiastic about her food as he
was, though she at least ate half of her sandwich. He waited for her to be finished before he decided
to bring up the subject of her testimony.

“Savannah,” he murmured, “Jensen might want you to give your testimony today.” He added on

quickly, “But you don’t have to, if you don’t want to.”

“Today?” Savannah looked at him. Her thick lashes retained dampness from earlier. “I thought I

didn’t have to do it until tomorrow?” Her face paled a little as a sick look crept into her eyes.

“It’s your choice, hun,” Max told her. “If you really don’t feel like you can do it today, then you

don’t have to.”

Savannah glanced around the table. Abel held her hand. She asked, “Why does he want me to

testify today?”

Max answered, “He feels that, under the circumstances of Abel’s testimony, that...” He looked at

Abel then shifted his gaze back to the young girl. “Maybe the jury will be more receptive of your
testimony if you give it now.”

“It...it will help Abel’s case?”
“No one can know that for sure,” Abel told her. “You don’t have to do this.”
“But it might help?”
“Yes,” Max said.
Abel shook his head. “Savannah.” He looked at her, and she still seemed so much younger than

her sixteen years, so fragile and vulnerable. He knew he wasn’t giving her the credit she deserved.
She was strong; she had proved that in how she’d been dealing with her condition. But his need to
protect her remained steadfast. “It isn’t easy being up there on the stand. And Tate, he won’t be nice.
He’ll try to twist everything you say and use it against me.”

The girl didn’t look in favor of taking that scrutiny today, yet she pointed out rationally, “I’ll still

have to do it tomorrow anyway.” She leaned against Abel and curled an arm around his back. “I’ll do
anything to help you.”

Abel’s throat tightened. “Savannah...”
She hugged him tighter. “I’ll do it. I don’t care if it’s hard.” Tears thickened her voice, as well as

a hint of anger. “You’re innocent. Craig wasn’t a good man, and he got what he deserved.”

Abel wrapped his arms around her. He had protected her all her life, and now she was ready to

step up and protect him, too. Devlin touched his back then kissed his shoulder.

“She’s right,” he whispered.
“Are you sure about this, sweetheart?” Cole asked with concern.
She nodded. “Yes.”
Gabe suggested, “Maybe you should wait until after Abel’s cross-examination before you decide.

See how you feel then.”

“I think he’s right,” Abel said, his nausea welling up at the idea of being under Tate’s attack.
A shaky breath escaped the girl as she continued to hold onto Abel. “I’m still going to do it.”

♦

Caleb and Samuel walked with Dane and Angel back to the courthouse, lingering behind the others.
“This is some rough shit,” Caleb murmured and squeezed Samuel’s hand. “I’m so glad my court thing
is an open and shut case. I don’t know if I could deal with a full on court battle with Coulson.”

Reaching over, Dane slipped an arm around his shoulder and hugged him briefly, then released

him. “I think that fucker got the message not to mess with our boys.”

“Yeah,” Caleb chuffed and shook his head. “That was harsh.” He smiled. “Fucker deserved every

bit  of  it  too.”  Caleb  wasn’t  oblivious  to  the  fact  that  Dane,  Cole,  and  Gabe  had  had  a  hand  in
Coulson’s  punishment,  though  no  one  openly  “confessed”  to  anything.  He  hadn’t  been  with  the  club
more than a couple weeks or more when all that shit had gone down with Coulson, and still they had
come  to  his  rescue,  treating  him  like  one  of  their  own  right  from  the  start.  That  told  him  all  he’d
needed to know about the kind of men the Phoenix Club produced. It made him feel safe, even now, to
be part of that family.

When they reached the front of the courthouse, Dane and Angel went on inside, but Caleb drew

Samuel aside. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” Samuel frowned. “Why?”
“It just seemed like you got all quiet when we mentioned Brock.”
Samuel shook his head and rested his hands on Caleb’s waist. “No, babe. Nothing’s wrong. I just

don’t have anything to say about that prick.”

Caleb wrapped his arms around Samuel’s neck. The guy still hurt over the way he had treated

Caleb,  the  things  he’d  said  to  him  after  discovering  the  videos  of  Caleb  and  Brock.  It  had  broken
Samuel’s heart when he’d learned what Brock had done to Caleb, and the healing process was a slow
one. Caleb had some moments of  his  own,  usually  at  night  after  Samuel  had  fallen  asleep,  when  he
would  suffer  sudden  panic,  fear  swarming  over  him.  But  it  always  passed,  and  he  would  be  okay
again.  He  had  never  told  Samuel  about  those  little  episodes.  They  were  coming  on  less  frequently,
and Caleb hoped they would just fade out altogether.

“All this tension,” Samuel murmured in his ear. “I might need some major release later this

evening.”

Caleb smiled and kissed his neck. “I think I might be able to help with that.”
“I’m counting on it,” Samuel whispered and pulled back a little, kissing his lips. Heat and tingles

swept through Caleb’s body, as always happened whenever Samuel kissed him or touched him. Right
from the start, Samuel had been the “thunderbolt” that had struck his heart and stolen his breath. And
the effect had yet to wear off.

♦

Horatio sat in the limo out in front of the courthouse. The trial would resume in fifteen minutes, but he
was having a hard time making his body move and leave the car. He thought about Seth, their plans to
move away. But just what had he been proposing when he’d asked Seth to move with him overseas?
What was Seth supposed to think? Did you ask someone to take such a huge step with you – if you
weren’t planning to spend your life with them? Did he mean to ask the young man to marry him?

His head touched the tinted glass of the window, his heart heavy. From the moment Max had first

kissed him, he knew he had wanted to marry him. He couldn’t imagine his life without Max in it.

Can you now?
He closed his eyes, chin trembling. He knew the answer to that question, but it hurt too much to

admit.

We can’t be held accountable for the things we said and did back then.
“Why can’t we?” Horatio choked softly. “Why?” He pushed his forehead against the cool glass,

sobs catching in his chest. “You promised to marry me.”

* *

“You should be a professional stripper.” Horatio loved to watch Max dance, especially at night –
and in the nude. He laid on his back in the grass, his own clothes discarded somewhere off to the
side, eyes following Max’s every move. A small portable radio played a slightly upbeat song that
seemed to flow through Max’s body.

“You think so?” Max grinned, his hands caressing his bare skin and following the contours of

his lean frame. He danced closer to Horatio, the moonlight revealing his strong arousal.

Horatio smiled and tucked his arms under his head, just enjoying the “show” and the view

from below. “Yeah.” His heart pounded as Max danced all around him, occasionally straddling
his body and teasing him with a few dips of his hips, brushing down against Horatio’s hardened
member. “We should open a strip club. That would be so cool. We could be partners and have our
own flock of gay boys.”

Max laughed. “Flock of gay boys? Sounds rather...fowl.”
“I’m serious,” Horatio laughed. “It would be, like...so perfect.” He propped himself up on his

elbows. “Of course, you wouldn’t be allowed to dance for anyone but me.”

“Oh really?” Max grinned darkly and straddled him again, this time sinking down to his knees

on the grass, though his hips continued to sway and rock.

“Yes,” Horatio insisted and rubbed his hands up his legs, then wrapped Max’s erection in his

fists. Max moaned and laced his fingers behind his head, moving with the rhythm of Horatio’s
hand strokes. His head tilted up towards the night sky, eyes closing softly as he pushed himself
through Horatio’s hands, his breath quickening.

“You have amazing hands, baby,” he moaned.
Horatio gazed up at his beautiful face, so serene and content. Max was just one year away

from eighteen...from graduation. A sick feeling crept into Horatio’s heart at the thought of Max
leaving home, going away to college. What if met someone else? Someone older than Horatio? He
swallowed thickly and released Max, then rubbed his hands up his hips. “Max?”

“Hmm?” Max slowly opened his eyes and let his hands drop. He caressed Horatio’s arms then

lay down on top of him, resting on his elbows as he combed his fingertips through the younger
boy’s hair.

“Promise me you’ll marry me some day.”
“What?” Max laughed softly. “Where did that come from?”
Horatio licked his lips and rubbed his hands up the sides of Max’s neck. “I’ve always wanted

to marry you,” he whispered sincerely. “I mean, when we’re older. Do you...want to marry me
too?”

Smiling softly, Max kissed his lips. “No, I just made you promise to love me forever the first

time we made love,” he kissed him again. “For the fun of it.” When Horatio just looked at him,
Max groaned and laughed, “Hell yes, I want to marry you one day, crazy boy.”

“Promise?”
“Like there’s any doubt?” Max smiled and laid another kiss on his lips.
“Say it,” Horatio whispered.

“I promise you, Horatio Kaplan, that I will marry you. You and no other.” He sank down

closer, shoving his hands beneath Horatio’s body. “Right here, right now...I swear my undying
love to you, for life or longer.” He kissed him softly, deeply. “I love you, Horatio. You don’t have
to worry, I’m not going to grow out of you, or go away and leave you behind. I’m not setting foot
outside our house until I can take you with me.”

The sincerity and truth behind his words brought tears to Horatio’s eyes, and he hugged him

tight. “You’re my whole world, Max.”

“And you’re mine.” He kissed his neck, then slowly on up to the curve of his jaw and over to

his ear. “Should we make love? You know...to seal all these promises?”

Horatio curled his legs up around Max’s body and clung to him, his face against his
warm shoulder. “Yes.”

* *

Tears  rolled  down  his  face  as  he  pushed  the  memory  away  before  he  could  experience  again  how
amazing  and  intense  their  lovemaking  had  been.  It  was  always  good,  but  that  time  had  been  extra
special.  Horatio’s  fears  that  Max  might  leave  him  behind  –  were  banished  that  night.  Only  to  be
realized two years later.

“Fuck,” Horatio choked and covered his eyes with his hand, body trembling.
He raised his head and looked at the courthouse. His heart felt unstable, unprepared to encounter

Max yet again that day. But he had no choice; he had to go inside.

Still, the limo door remained closed. Seth’s face rose in his mind, the hurt he had caused him by

crying out Max’s name in the heat of passion. Was that the real reason he hadn’t wanted to come back
to the trial? He didn’t want to watch the way Horatio’s eyes continually found Max and lingered with
deep longing in their depths? Did it hurt less to just not be there to see?

I’m sorry, Seth. But I’ll make it up to you. Once we’re away from here, everything will be

better. I’ll let Max go for real. I will.

Chapter 15

“Moral Judgment”

♦

“Are you ever coming back to school?” Grid asked as soon as he knew it was Seth calling. “Or you
going to spend the rest of your days flying the friendly skies with your hot millionaire?”

“I think he might be a billionaire,” Seth murmured. “Or damn close.”
“So...what?” Grid wondered. “You just dumping school?”
Seth sighed and slipped his hand through his hair. “No. But I might be taking classes somewhere

else, though.”

“Where?”
Drawing a deep breath, Seth released it slow. “France.” He swallowed anxiously. “Horatio

asked me if I would consider moving with him to the French Riviera.”

A long silence followed his news.
“Grid?”
“You’re not seriously going to go?”
“Actually,” Seth let go another sigh. “I think I might.” He waited. Grid had been his best friend

since freshman college, and he knew him well enough by now to anticipate his reaction.

“Look, I like the guy and all,” Grid said. “He seems pretty cool. But fuck, Seth, you don’t really

know him. And now you’re talking about moving halfway around the world with him? What’s going
on? You were always the sensible one. I was the one who did the stupid shit.”

Seth’s lips tightened as he sat on the edge of the bed. “I don’t know, man. I just...” He shook his

head. “I just really like him. I mean, a lot. And...” Seth gazed distantly at the wall. “I think he really
needs me right now. He’s going through some rough shit, trying to figure stuff out. And I think he
needs someone he can talk to and just be with.”

“I get it,” Grid’s tone softened. “I mean, I knew you were gone on him the first time I saw you two

together. But this is a huge step to take just to be there for moral support. What happens after he
figures everything out? Is he going to dump you?”

“No,” Seth said. “He isn’t like that.” He stood up and paced the bedroom. “Look, I called to see if

you could pack my stuff for me. And see if Jamie can get my thesis from Professor Brighton. We’re in
the same class.”

“This is insane, you know that, right?”
“Yeah,” Seth admitted. “But...”
“But you’re falling in love with him.” He couldn’t quite interpret Grid’s tone, whether or not the

guy was in favor or not.

Seth bit his lip, throat knotting. “Yeah,” he whispered, “I am.”
“You know,” Grid said. “This is going to totally break Jamie’s heart.”
“Jamie?” Seth frowned. “What’re you talking about? Jamie isn’t into me.”
Grid chuckled low, and Seth could imagine him shaking his head. “Man, for such a smart guy –

you’re kind of dumb.”

“I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

“Like I said – dumb.”
“Whatever,” Seth groaned, rubbing his neck. “Can you gather up my stuff? I’m not sure exactly

when I’ll be by to get it, but it shouldn’t be too long.”

Grid sighed. “All right. If this is really what you want to do. But this time – at least say goodbye

to Jamie, okay? Give him that much.”

“You’re out of your mind.”
“Just wait and see the look on his face when you tell him you’re moving overseas with your sugar

daddy,” Grid said. “Then you’ll believe me.”

A hard breath rushed up Seth’s throat. “Fine. I guess I’ll see when the time comes. Until then,

you’re nuts in my book.”

“Fuck,” Grid smirked. “I’m nuts in everyone’s book.”

♦

“Hey.” Grid rapped on the open door, startling the young man sitting at his desk, hovering over an
open book. He looked up, then pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose with his index finger.

“Oh, hey, Grid.” A lock of light brown hair dropped across his forehead, and he swiped it away.
“Seth called,” Grid told him. “He asked if you could get his thesis from your English professor.”
Jamie’s dark eyes flitted anxiously back and forth across Grid’s face. “Is he...is he coming back to

school?”

Grid leaned against the door frame, hands slipping into the front pockets of his jeans. “I don’t

know. He’s talking about leaving.”

“Oh,” Jamie stared down at his book. He looked like a lost, abandoned puppy.
“But,” Grid stepped into the room. “He will have to come back to get his stuff.” Jamie nodded but

didn’t look at him. “One last chance to tell him you’re crazy about him?”

“What?” He glanced up quick. “I’m not...”
Grid cocked an eyebrow and smiled. “Yes, you are. So why don’t you tell him?”
“He doesn’t even know I’m alive,” Jamie whispered.
“What’re you talking about?” Grid laughed. “You’re friends.”
The guy shook his head and fidgeted with his pencil. “But he doesn’t see me that way.”
“Well, maybe that’s your fault.”
“What do you mean?” Jamie met his stare and held it.
Grid approached the desk. “Well, you practically make yourself invisible. You don’t ever say

much or initiate conversation with him. You got to put yourself out there.”

Dropping his gaze, Jamie murmured despondently, “I can’t compete with his rich boyfriend.”
“How do you know?” Grid posed. “Unless you try? If you like the guy, fight for him.”
“With what?”
Grid frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I saw the pictures you guys brought back from your vacation,” he said. “And...that guy was in

some of them. Everything about him is perfect. I can’t compete with that.” He shrugged. “I’m just an
ugly geek.”

Grid gazed at him. The guy might not be jock status, and he was a little on the skinny side, but he

still had an appeal to him. Being straight, Grid couldn’t say for sure, but he could see how another gay
guy might find Jamie to be cute. His soft features and long lashes that framed shy eyes...if he were a
girl, Grid would find him attractive.

“You’re not ugly,” Grid assured. “And so you’re a bit of a geek, who cares? Nothing wrong with

that.” He smirked. “Seth can be a little nerdy himself at times.”

His face scrunching a little, Jamie looked at him. “You’re not gay. How would you know whether

or not I’m ugly to other gay guys?”

Grid chuckled. “Look. I’m secure enough in my masculinity to admit when another guy is good

looking. And you are. You just hide your handsome face behind glasses.” He ruffled Jamie’s hair.
“And that mop of hair.”

“Quit,” Jamie laughed and jerked away.
Smiling, Grid said, “My suggestion is, get a haircut and maybe trade in the glasses for contacts.

And,” He looked him over. “Don’t wear such loose-fitting clothes. You have a decent build, but your
baggy clothes make you look skinnier than you are. And get it done before Seth comes back,” Grid
winked. “Show him what he’s missing.”

Jamie looked doubtful. “None of that is going to make me as handsome as the other guy.”
“So?” Grid said, then chuckled. “Fuck, none of us is as handsome as that guy. Don’t try to be

someone else. Just be yourself. You’re good enough as you. And if Seth can’t see that, it’s his loss.”

♦

When Horatio entered the courtroom alone, a strained look on his face, a sliver of guilt jabbed Max.
Had  he  inadvertently  said  something  to  Seth  to  make  him  feel  unwelcome?  He  hadn’t  meant  to.
Despite how much it hurt to see Horatio with someone else, he did want the man to be happy, to have
someone he could freely love and make a life with. Max had been trying to let Seth know he wasn’t an
outsider.  But  maybe  the  kid  had  read  something  else  into  his  words.  After  all,  Max  had  openly
admitted  to  caring  for  Horatio  and  hadn’t  lied  about  how  much  it  had  hurt  to  walk  away  from  him.
Maybe you should have just kept your mouth shut and left well enough alone.

Horatio approached the front of the courtroom slowly, a hesitation in his step. He glanced at Max

but didn’t speak to him as he made his way forward to speak with Jensen and Abel.

“Didn’t Seth come back with him?” Carl asked.
“Doesn’t look that way,” Max murmured.
Carl clucked his tongue. “All right, what did you say to him?”
“What?” Max stared at him. “Nothing. I was nice.”
“Uh huh.” Carl gazed at him skeptically, then chuckled and kissed the corner of his mouth. “I

know you were nice.”

Max smiled and shook his head, then gave him a warning look. “Don’t be messing with me, boy.

I’ll have to whip you good.”

A grin spread across Carl’s face. “Looking forward to it.”
Max shook his head and laughed softly. “You’re bad.”
When they took their seats, Horatio didn’t join them as before, but sat on the aisle end of the third

bench, one row behind Max and Carl. The tense look on his face remained, and he seemed to be
having a hard time focusing on the proceedings at hand. Max knew that distant look in his eyes, was
well aware of where it took the man. It took Max to the same place.

Carl glanced at Horatio then leaned close to Max. “Is he all right?”
Casting him one more look, Max shook his head. “I don’t know,” he admitted quietly.
“Maybe you should go talk to him.”
Max leaned forward and shook his head. “I don’t think he wants to talk to me right now.”

Carl started to say something more, when the court was called to order, and soon after, Abel

returned to the stand. Max shoved away all thoughts of Horatio and focused on Abel. The boy
retained a pale, sick look to him. In the row ahead, he could feel the tension wafting off both Cole and
Gabe. Max’s gaze jumped to Bronson Tate as the man stood up and approached the witness stand.

You’d better be careful, asshole. These two boys won’t hesitate to rip your fucking head off if

you hurt their baby.

♦

The man approached him like a predator sizing up his prey. Abel sat stiff and anxious. It had been bad
enough having to talk about this in front of everyone with Jensen asking the questions. Jensen, who
had his best interests in mind. Tate’s mission was to discredit him.

“What is your current occupation?” Tate asked. Abel hadn’t expected this to be his first question.
“I’m taking business management courses at the moment,” he said, uncertain of the relevance of

the question.

“Any specific reason you chose business management?”
“Yes,” Abel answered slowly. “My boyfriend plans to open his own practice eventually, and I

want to be able to help him run it.”

“Your boyfriend,” Tate nodded. “And what is your boyfriend’s name?”
Abel licked his lips slowly. “Doctor Devlin Grant.”
“Devlin Grant.” Tate mulled the name over. “Would he be any relation to Craig Grant?”
Anxiety tied up Abel’s guts. The man was trying to trap him somehow, yet he had no choice but to

answer. “His brother.”

“So, let me get this straight.” He held up one finger pointedly. “You are now dating the brother of

the man whose life you took five years ago?”

“Yes,” Abel murmured.
“I see.” Tate went silent a moment, then asked, “And how did Devlin Grant react when he learned

that you were his brother’s killer?”

The emphasis he put on “killer” jarred Abel. He had always viewed his actions as self-defense.

The words “kill” and “murder” rarely came to mind. But hearing them spoken aloud by the prosecutor
filled him with a sick dread; he had killed a man. Taken a human life.

“He...” Abel glanced at Devlin, the memory of that day hitting him full force. You’re a fucking

liar, Abel! My brother was good! You think I’m going to take the word of some fucking little whore
over my own brother! Fuck you!

Tears burned and Devlin’s face swam before him as the man slowly ducked his head as he too

clearly recalled that awful day.

“Please answer the question,” Tate said.
“He didn’t take it well,” Abel admitted.
“Can you elaborate?”
Abel lowered his eyes. Devlin still hurt from the things he’d said to Abel. He hated having to

throw it back in his face now, before everyone. “He...he accused me of lying, when I told him what
Craig had done to me.”

“What did he say exactly?”
“He said...” Abel swallowed thickly, “He said his brother was a good man, and that...” His eyes

filled. “And that he wasn’t going to take the word of a whore over his own brother.” He closed his

eyes as tears gathered on his lashes. He was wounding Devlin with every word he spoke.

Tate released a slow breath. “Why would he call you a whore?”
Abel looked up, pulse quickening. Devlin had said it in reference to him selling himself to

Horatio Kaplan. Did he have to say that? It was bad enough having to drag Devlin into this, but would
he have to incriminate Horatio as well?

“I was working as a stripper at the time,” he murmured, praying the man wouldn’t push for more.
“Mm-hm.” Tate looked at him. “And how old are you?”
“Nineteen.”
“And how long were you a stripper?”
“A year,” Abel said.
“And you found this to be an honorable profession?” Tate wondered. “Taking your clothes off for

strange men?”

Abel’s gaze jumped to Max and the others from the club. “It was a job,” he said quietly. “And I

needed the money.”

“And there were no other jobs to be found?”
The man was backing him into a corner. Did he admit that the reason he hadn’t looked for a

regular job was because he had been hiding from the law?

“I didn’t look.”
“Why?” Tate pushed. “Did you like the idea of dancing nearly nude for the entertainment of lustful

men?”

“It was a job,” Abel repeated, voice tight. “I needed money to take care of my sister. I really

didn’t care what I had to do.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he wondered if he’d made
a mistake.

Tate nodded slowly. “I believe you.” A faint smile mocked Abel from the corners of the man’s

mouth. “What else did you do for this money you were in such desperate need of?”

“Private dances for individual customers brought in more pay,” Abel admitted.
“Did you have sex with these customers?”
“No,” Abel frowned. “I just danced.”
A thoughtful look crossed the man’s face. “And the money you made dancing,” he said. “That was

enough to take care of your sister? As well as pay rent, lights, utilities?”

Abel shifted. “I didn’t have to pay those things. I was supplied an apartment by my boss.”
“I see. And did all the young men who worked at the club receive free room and board?”
“No.”
“What made you so special?”
The anxiety twisted him up tighter. “Nothing. Max was just trying to help us out. We didn’t have a

place to stay, or money. And he had an empty apartment.”

“How convenient,” Tate murmured. “And you didn’t find it odd that the owner of a gay strip club

would just set you up in your own place, gratis?”

Abel just stared at him.
“Gratis means free of charge.”
“I know what it means,” Abel said quietly. “And no, I didn’t find it odd. Max is a good man.”
Tate looked unconvinced. “I have to say, I personally wouldn’t put much stock in the morality of a

strip club owner exploiting young, barely legal boys. Did he require any compensation for setting you
up in the apartment?”

“Compensation?” Abel frowned.

“Did you perform sexual favors in return for the use of the apartment?” Tate asked bluntly.
Abel stared at him in shock. “No.”
“So, he just did it all out of the goodness of his heart?”
“Yes,” Abel insisted.
“And was it out of the goodness of his heart that he introduced you to Horatio Kaplan?”
Jensen stood up. “Objection. Relevance?”
Tate addressed the judge. “I am establishing the character of the defendant, and his predominant

attraction to a sexual lifestyle.”

“My client’s career choice five years after the fact has no bearing on this case,” Jensen stated

firmly.

“The character and inclinations of the defendant are indeed relevant,” Tate insisted with barely

veiled vehemence.

“Jesse Evers – Abel – was barely thirteen years old when Craig Grant sexually assaulted him,”

Jensen’s voice rose a few notches. “No inclinations instigated his rape.”

“Objection overruled,” the judge stated, then looked at Tate. “Counselor, if you have a relevant

point to make, then make it.”

Chapter 16

“Dazed and Confused”

♦

“Where the fuck is he going with all this?” Cole muttered from the front row.

Max rubbed his eyes. He knew what the man was trying to do. If he could get the jury to see Abel

and all the rest of them as immoral “whores,” then their testimonies would carry little weight as
character witnesses.

“What did your business dealings with Horatio Kaplan consist of?” Tate asked Abel.
His lips tight, Abel looked nervous, uneasy. “I-I don’t know what exactly you’re asking.”
“What were you being paid for?” he stated stiffly.
Max wasn’t certain how Tate knew about any of this, but somehow attorneys always seemed to

manage to dig up the dirt.

“He paid me to be his travel companion.”
Nice answer, Max thought. Surely Jensen had anticipated this line of questioning.
“So you weren’t hired as a prostitute?”
“I told you,” Abel murmured. “I was hired as a travel companion.”
Tate nodded. “Well that sounds all nice and innocent. But do you honestly expect the court to

believe a multi-millionaire would hire a stripper to merely pal around the world with him, without
expecting more?” Abel didn’t reply. Tate then asked point blank, “Did you have sex with him on any
of these jaunts around the globe?”

Abel’s gaze darted to Horatio. Max glanced at the man as he just stared back at Abel, unaffected

by Tate’s questions.

“We...we developed a close relationship,” Abel told him.
“An intimate relationship?”
“Yes.”
“But you weren’t being paid for the sex?”
Abel looked uncertain.
“Keep in mind that you are under oath,” Tate reminded, “and lying on the witness stand is an act

of perjury. So I’ll ask you again – were you being paid for sex?”

Rubbing his lips together, Abel murmured, “He paid me for my company.”
“Of course he did,” Tate mused and Max would have loved to punch him just then. “And how

much did he pay you to be his...travel buddy?”

“Five thousand per weekend,” Abel whispered.
“What was that?” Tate asked. “Please speak up.”
Abel pursed his lips. “Five thousand per weekend.”
Tate’s brow shot up. “Five thousand dollars? For a weekend? Wow. You must have been one

amazing...companion.” Abel stared at him but said nothing. “What did you need that much money
for?”

There was clear hesitation in Abel as he looked at Savannah; she had yet to tell Maddy about her

condition, and it was obvious Abel didn’t want to make it known right here, like this.

“My sister,” he said softly. “She got sick. I needed the money for her medical bills.”
“She wasn’t eligible for state medical?” Tate asked.
“I...I wanted to take care of it myself,” Abel offered weakly.
“I see,” Tate’s brow pinched. “So you would rather sell your companionship services than

simply put your sister on medical?” He gave a single shake of his head. “Seems rather odd to me.”

“She was my responsibility,” Abel murmured.
Tate smiled, but it lacked warmth. “Wasn’t the real reason you didn’t want to apply for medical –

because you and your sister had taken on false identities? And you were flying below the radar, trying
to keep out of sight of the authorities? Why else would you change yours and your sister’s names?
When exactly did you assume new identities? Wasn’t it right after you ran away from the orphanage?
After you murdered Craig Grant?” He looked at Abel, expecting an answer.

Abel nodded slowly. “Yes,” he said quietly.
“You claimed that you killed Craig Grant in self-defense because he refused to stop assaulting

you. Isn’t that what you told the court?”

“Yes.”
Tate nodded and exhaled low. “Why didn’t you tell someone what he was doing?”
“He threatened me,” Abel spoke low, and Max could see him growing upset again now that they

were back to speaking of Craig. “He threatened to hurt my sister. And he said no one would believe
me if I did tell.”

“But there were good people working at the orphanage, weren’t there?”
“Yes.”
“And in two years, you didn’t once try to talk to any of them, tell them you were being abused?”
Abel lowered his eyes. “No.”
“Well, I would think that these good people, who worked daily with troubled and even abused

kids – could have spotted that something was wrong.” He paused a moment, then added slowly, “If,
indeed, something was wrong.”

Lifting his eyes, Abel frowned, puzzled by the man’s implications. Max leaned forward on his

knees and glanced at Samuel, whose brow was knit tight as he watched Tate.

“When did you know you were gay?” Tate asked almost casually.
Able shrugged. “Uh...I guess...” He licked his lips slowly. “When I was almost twelve.”
“Just before you were sent to the orphanage?”
“Yes.”
“You were going on thirteen when you arrived at the orphanage,” Tate said. “Entering puberty.

Did you experience any desires for other boys?”

Abel shifted uneasily. “I suppose,” he murmured.
“And isn’t it possible that you perhaps felt just a little special when Craig Grant began to show

you attention?”

“What?”
“Are you sure that Craig Grant wasn’t just trying to do his job and help you? And coming from a

home of neglect, as well as being consumed with new sexual desires – isn’t it possible you misread
Craig’s level of interest? An interest that you craved, that you needed? You just wanted to be loved,
didn’t you? And you got it in your head that Craig Grant loved you, because of the care he showed
you? And isn’t it more probable that in your troubled state of mind, you took his life because he
refused to engage in intimate relations with you – rather than because he forced himself on you?”

“No,” Abel trembled, face pinching as tears welled and spilled down his cheeks.

“It’s understandable,” Tate went on, a level of compassion in his voice. “You just wanted to be

loved, for once in your life. Your parents didn’t love you; you had never known the security and love
of an adult figure. And then Craig comes along, shows you that he cares, that he’s there for you...and
in your fractured mind, you take it for love. But then he rejects you as well – when you try to take your
relationship beyond friendship. And that hurt, didn’t it? To be cast away yet again. And that kind of
hurt easily transfers to anger. You were angry with him, weren’t you? Perhaps he passed you off to a
different counselor and started showing another kid special attention. That had to hurt. You wanted to
make him pay, didn’t you? To hurt him as bad he had hurt you?”

Abel hugged himself, crying, shaking his head.
“It’s okay. You were lonely, scared, neglected. Life had dealt you an unfair hand and you were

just playing it the best you could. Anyone can understand that. And when you finally broke and took
Craig’s life – you took your sister and you ran. You ran because you knew you were guilty of
murder...not self-defense.”

“No!” Abel cried. “That isn’t how it happened!”
“Isn’t it, Jesse?” Tate murmured. “Isn’t it possible that you couldn’t handle the reality that you

took an innocent man’s life, and you built up this image of a monster in your head? Convinced
yourself that he hurt you and you had no choice but to do what you did? And you told yourself this for
so long that you began to believe it? That your memories began to shift and coincide with the
fabrication? Isn’t it possible that that is how it happened?”

Abel stared at the man, wide-eyed, tears running down his cheeks – and uncertainty etched across

his face.

♦

No, baby, Devlin thought. Don’t let him fuck with your head like that. His heart broke as he stared at
Abel – suddenly at a loss, doubting the authenticity of his own memories. Put me on the stand. I’ll
set that fucker straight.

Tate wasn’t finished. The false emotion he pushed into his voice boiled Devlin’s blood – as if the

man gave a fuck.

“And isn’t it possible,” Tate went on. “That this need to be loved, to be accepted and desired, is

what led you to the very type of job in which you solicited the lust and desire of men? This craving
that was in you from the beginning? All the way back to Craig Grant? And the very fact that you are
now dating Craig Grant’s brother...is this really a coincidence? Or is it possible that you
subconsciously sought him out? Perhaps out of guilt? Or possibly because there is still some part of
you that desires Craig’s affections, and his brother is the closest you can get to the real thing, to make
amends for your crime?”

Abel ducked his head, crying softly, arms squeezing his body.
“That motherfucker,” Cole hissed.
His hand shaking, Devlin wiped the tears from his face as he wished to God he could turn Cole

loose on the bastard.

Jensen stood up. “Objection. This is all speculation. Mr. Tate is an attorney not a psychiatrist.

There is no evidence to support his theories.”

“Just one more question,” Tate told the judge. “And then I will be through.”
The judge looked skeptical, but nodded. “Go ahead.”
Tate turned to Abel, his voice softened. “All that I’ve suggested here today, Jesse. Isn’t it at least

possible that that is how it really happened?”

Abel’s brow pinched hard in confusion as he stared at his lap, tears coursing down his face.
No, baby, no. You’re not confused. You’re right – he was a monster.
Trembling, Abel choked out brokenly, “I don’t know.”
Tate stepped back and nodded. “No further questions.” He walked back to his table with a look of

satisfaction.

“Do you have any added questions, Mr. Taylor?” The judge asked.
Jensen shook his head. “No, your honor.”
The judge looked at Abel. “You can step down.”
Abel left the witness stand, arms still wrapped around himself, his walk unsteady as he returned

to the table. Cole was on his feet and reached across the barrier, wrapping the boy in his arms. He
kissed his hair, whispered something to him that Devlin couldn’t hear, then released him and sat down
again as Abel took his seat as well. Jensen spoke to Abel, then straightened up when the judge told
him to call his next witness. Jensen stood. “I’d like to request a ten minute recess to prepare my
witness, Savannah Sims.”

The judge looked at the young girl, in tears and huddled against Cole. He nodded. “Granted.”

♦

Jensen would blast the bastard out of the water, Horatio knew that for a fact. But it still hurt having to
watch Abel go through this shit, to question his own memories of past events. The confusion would
surely be short lived, as there were enough witnesses to substantiate Craig’s sexual preference for
young boys. But Tate would likely play his mind games on as many of them as possible, including
Savannah and even Devlin, in an attempt to create reasonable doubt with the jurors. But Jensen was
experienced with such tactics.

When Horatio realized his gaze was lingering on Max, he looked away, then stood and left the

courtroom. His head was so fucked up. If he could just board his jet and get the hell away from here,
maybe it would clear. If he could be alone with Seth, on the other side of the world, actually start a
new life...then maybe, finally, the memories of Max would recede. But as long as he kept the
documents, they would tie him to Max, to what could have been if they had just known the truth. But
the truth had come to them too late. Other hearts were involved now. Innocent hearts. It was just time
to accept that, despite everything he now knew, his time with Max was over long ago.

He walked out to the front of the building and sat on the same step Seth and Max had been sitting

on earlier. His eyes filled as the street and passing cars blurred and distorted, and he took out his
phone and called Seth. When the young man answered, he hesitated, then said thickly, “I need you to
do something for me. There’s some papers in my safe, in an envelope.” He faltered, his throat
working as tears drained down his face. “I need you to take them and...and shred them for me.” After
relaying the combination to his safe, he closed his phone and dropped his head in his hands, crying
softly.

He had overheard Max’s words to Seth. Maybe he was just a ghost, haunting Max’s life.
Maybe he had died for real the day Max left him.

Epilogue

“Sins of a Father”

♦

Nerves twisted Horatio’s guts up tight, hurting his stomach. When he’d left for school that morning, he
had stopped by Max’s room, but his door had been locked. He’d knocked, but Max hadn’t let him in.
Horatio had left the house in tears and considered skipping school. But if all this was because his dad
was mad at them, then he didn’t want to make him any angrier by ditching classes.

All day, he’d felt sick to his stomach, and had to run to the restroom between classes once to

throw up. He hadn’t been able to eat lunch or concentrate on anything but Max. He just wanted to get
home, make Max tell him what was wrong, and they would make love, and everything would be good
again – as it always was when they made love.

He ran up the front steps and burst through door, tossing his school bag on the floor in the foyer,

then raced for the stairs.

“Horatio!” His dad came out of his study about the time Horatio’s foot hit the first step. “Horatio,

I need to speak to you.”

“I have to talk to Max!” Horatio ignored his father when the man hollered after him, telling him to

come back, and bounded up the wide staircase. The hard soles of his dress shoes hit dully against the
thick hall carpet as he ran to Max’s bedroom and threw open the door.

“Max!” Horatio was already in the room when he came to a dead stop, heart pounding. The room

was empty. Empty. All Max’s things – gone. “Max...” Horatio trembled, then rushed forward and
pulled open the doors to the walk-in closet. Some of his clothes remained – but too many were
missing. He turned around, heart beating wildly, in a panic.

All the little personal things were gone.
Horatio’s breath came quick, rushing in and out of his lungs too fast, dizziness overwhelming him.

“Max?” His legs were weak as he went to the hall. One arm curled around his waist as the sobs
began to swell. He half ran, half stumbled to the head of the staircase. “Max!”

He ran down the stairs and burst into his dad’s study. “Where is he?” he cried, tears streaming.
“Horatio, sit down,” Xavier said. “We need to talk-”
“Where is he?” he screamed, then choked on a rush of sobs. “You did this! You made him leave,

didn’t you? Didn’t you?”

“Horatio, calm down.”
“Where is he?” he cried. “Where did he go? I’m not staying here with you! I want to go with Max!

Where is he?” When his dad just looked at him, his brow knit in sympathy, Horatio jerked away and
went for the door.

His dad caught hold of his arm before he made it out of the room and pulled him back, closing the

door. Horatio fought his grip.

“Let me go! I have to find Max! He can’t leave me here! He wouldn’t do that!” Horatio stumbled

back from his dad, crying. “You told him to leave, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” Xavier admitted sharply. “I had to, Horatio.”
“Bullshit!” Horatio cried. “You just don’t want us to be together! Well, I don’t give a fuck what

you want! I’m going to find him!”

Xavier had another grip on him before he could make a move. “Sit down, Horatio.”
“No!”
“You can’t go after him! You can’t be with him!”
“Yes I can!” he screamed at him. “Let me go, you fuck!”
“Sit down!” his dad shouted and shoved him into the chair before his desk and held him there.

“You will sit here and you will listen, do you hear me?”

Horatio shook with sobs, but finally nodded. His dad drew back and leaned against the edge of

the desk and shoved his hands through his hair. “I’m sorry, Horatio,” he whispered. “I am. I know
how much Max means to you. But...”

“I don’t care what you say,” Horatio looked up, face tight, eyes brimming. “I’m going to find him,

and I’m going to be with him.”

Xavier sighed and gripped the front of the desk. “You’re going to listen, Horatio,” he said with an

air of authority. “And then you’re going to go on with your life. You will be upset for a while, and
that’s understandable. But you will move on.”

“No,” Horatio choked softly and dropped his head in his hands. “I won’t.” He squeezed his eyes

shut and cried quietly.

Xavier moved to the other side of his desk and sat down, leaning on his elbows. Horatio felt his

eyes on him but refused to look at the man. He made Max leave – Horatio never wanted to look at him
ever again. He didn’t care what he had to say; it wouldn’t change anything. He would find Max, and
everything would be okay. They would be away from his dad, and everything would be okay. It had to
be. It had to.

“Horatio,” Xavier started slowly, “I need to tell you something that I had hoped I would never

have to tell anyone.” His voice lowered. “Especially you and Max.”

His eyes on the floor, Horatio’s fingernails gouged his scalp as he watched the tears drip off his

face  and  drop  onto  the  carpet,  darkening  the  fine  threads  before  seeping  in  and  fading.  Maybe  Max
would come back. He wouldn’t really leave like this – he had promised he would never leave him
behind,  that  he  would  take  him  with  him  when  he  left.  His  tears  thickened  and  dripped  out  more
quickly  as  he  thought  about  last  night,  about  Max  telling  him  not  to  touch  him,  pushing  him  away.
Never in his life had Max pushed him away. His hands slipped down over his face as the sobs shook
him harder.

“Son,” There was a strain of emotion in Xavier’s voice. “Horatio, you have to listen. This is

important.”

Horatio choked on a cry and shook his head. “Max is the only thing that’s important to me. And

you made him leave. Why should I give a damn what you have to say?”

The man sighed hard and went on without attempting to answer his question. “When I was in my

early twenties,” he said quietly, “my mom – your grandmother – died in a car accident. My dad...”
Xavier faded off for a moment before resuming. “He wasn’t the kind of man who did well on his own.
Within a year, he remarried. To a very young woman, barely twenty-one years old. She was...” He
shook his head slowly and whispered, “She was beautiful, glamorous. Like a movie star. I’d never
met a woman like her before.”

I don’t fucking care! Horatio bit back the words. He wanted to go look for Max. Maybe he just

went into town but didn’t actually leave. What if he was waiting somewhere for Horatio to come find
him? They could just get in his car and drive away and never be apart again. His heart began to pound
with a glimmer of hope; maybe he had just pretended to leave, made Horatio’s dad think he was

leaving, but he wasn’t really gone. Would he sneak back in tonight and have Horatio go with him? He
would come back for him...he had to. He loves you, he won’t just leave without a word. He won’t.

“I became enamored with the woman,” Xavier went on, as if he actually believed Horatio were

listening. “I couldn’t help myself.”

What the hell did this have to do with him? Horatio wondered, anxious to get out of there. Max

would be back, and he needed to be ready to go when he showed up. Horatio wasn’t in the habit of
speaking disrespectfully to his father, but it seemed the man was speaking random garble.

“Can you get to the point?” Horatio mumbled, still staring at the floor, his throat hurting. He didn’t

give a fuck what “the point” was, but the sooner his dad made it, the sooner he could leave.

“I am getting to the point, Horatio,” Xavier said stiffly, his eyes troubled. He shifted in his chair

and  continued.  “As  I  said,  I  became  enamored  with  her.  But  the  longer  I  was  around  her...”  He
swallowed  hard  and  slid  his  tongue  over  his  lower  lip,  a  distant,  uneasy  look  on  his  face.  “She
became  my  obsession.”  He  shook  his  head.  “I  tried  not  to  think  about  her,  view  her  as  my  father’s
wife.  But  there  was  no  way  I  could  see  her  as  my stepmother.  She  was  younger  than  myself,  for
crying out loud.” His fingers slid slowly through his hair as his eyes began to gloss over. “One night,
after  a  dinner  party  she  and  my  father  had  thrown  for  some  business  colleagues,  I’d  had  too  much
wine, and I...” He halted abruptly, just staring at his desk.

Horatio looked up slowly, warm tears seeping down his cheeks.
“I went to her room.” He dragged his hand over his mouth. The glow of the lamp on his desk

glimmered off the film of tears in his eyes. “My father had driven one of the guests home, because
he’d had too much to drink. It was just her and me in the house.”

Why his dad was telling him this, he hadn’t a clue. But he was pretty sure where he knew what the

man was about to say.

“She told me to leave, to get out of her room, but,” he shook his head. “I wouldn’t go. I confessed

my love for her, my desires, and then...” His eyes closed, and he lowered his head. “I...forced myself
on her.”

Swallowing thickly, Horatio’s brow pinched hard. “You...you raped her?”
Obviously the man hadn’t been willing to use that word, but that’s what he was saying.
Xavier looked up, tears thick. “I hated myself for it, and I couldn’t face what I’d done.” He

sniffed and wiped at his eyes. “When she told my dad, I tried to deny it, but he knew I was lying. He
disowned me right then and there and eradicated me from his life. I’ll never understand why, but...he
never cut me off from the family fortune. But I never saw him again. A short while later, I met your
mother and fell in love – for real. I never told her any of what happened before. I never told anyone.”
He looked at Horatio. “Until yesterday...when I told Max.”

What the hell was the point of this story? Horatio stared at him. “Why...why would you tell Max?”

he whispered. “Or me?”

Xavier released a slow breath. “Because that woman, Lillian...” his throat worked, eyes wavering

from Horatio’s stare. “She was Max’s mother.”

Horatio’s breath quickened, his mind fragmented by Max’s sudden departure and unable to put the

pieces together properly. “I-I don’t understand. What’re you trying to say?”

“Horatio...” Xavier’s lips tightened, pain in his eyes. “When Lillian and my dad left...she was

pregnant.”

Shaking his head slowly, Horatio frowned. “What? So-” He caught himself and just stared at his

dad.

“She was Max’s mother, Horatio,” he said slowly, pointedly. “And she was pregnant with Max.”

Horatio’s mind tried to evade the reality of what he was saying, but as his father just looked at

him, the meaning of his words began to punch at his heart. Fresh tears rose up. “You’re saying that
you...that you’re Max’s...” He couldn’t get the word out. This couldn’t be true. It couldn’t!

“Honestly,” Xavier murmured, “I don’t know for sure. Lillian never knew if Max was mine or my

father’s. And that’s the only thing that prevented her from having an abortion. She loved my father
very much, and she couldn’t take the chance that he wasn’t his. But either way, son...” He gazed at
Horatio, letting the full reality sink in.

Either way...Max is related by blood.
Shaking his head, Horatio stumbled out of his chair. “No,” he choked. “You’re lying. You’re

making this up. You would have told us, when Max first came here. You would’ve told us that we
were...” Tears rushed down his face.

“I should have,” Xavier whispered. “I’m sorry. I never forgave myself for what I did. I was

ashamed, Horatio. And when I saw Max, it made it even worse. So I told you his mom was just a
friend of the family. Maybe that’s what I wanted to believe, that she wasn’t the same woman I had...”

“That you raped!” Horatio cried. “This is your fault! All of it! Max is gone because of you! I hate

you!  You  motherfucker!  You  can’t  take  him  away  from  me  like  this!”   Horatio  backed  towards  the
door, shaking, hands squeezed into fists and jaw clenched. “I don’t care what you say! I don’t care
about  any  of  this!  I  love  him! This  isn’t  fair!”  he  screamed.  “We  shouldn’t  have  to  pay  for  your
fucking  sins!”  He  grabbed  the  door  and  jerked  it  open.  “I’m  going  to  find  him,”  he  choked  on  his
cries. “He loves me! None of this will matter!”

“It does matter, Horatio!” Xavier was on his feet but remained behind his desk. “It matters to

Max.”

“No!” Horatio shook his head, crying. “He loves me! He’ll let us be together – he will! He’ll

come back for me!”

Horatio ran from the room, his father’s fatal words on his heels. “Max isn’t coming back!”
The knee-high grass slapped against his slacks as he ran for the pond. He’ll be there. He will.

Just like every day. He wouldn’t leave me. He wouldn’t! He promised!

Tears blurred his vision and he swiped at his eyes, nearly stumbling as the grass tried to twist

around his feet. The pond came into view, and he ran harder, sobs breaking in his throat. His chest
felt like it would explode as his heart pounded against his ribs. Be here. Please be here. Please,
Max.

His feet slowed as he neared the pond. He searched all around frantically, then raced to the large

sycamore at the edge of the pond, where he and Max would climb up on the limbs and just watch the
sun or the moonlight sparkle on the water. But Max wasn’t up there waiting for him. He wasn’t
anywhere.

“Max!” he cried. “Max!” He dropped to his knees on the bed of grass where they always made

love, where they laid under the stars and talked about the future, about all the things they would do
together, where Max had promised to love him for life or longer.

Where he had promised to marry him one day.
Horatio lay down and buried his face in his arms, crying, his heart coming apart piece by piece.
“Max...I love you...don’t leave me...you promised...you promised.”

~~~

THE PHOENIX CLUB SERIES:

ABEL

It Can’t Be You

Hearts In Chaos

Shattered

CALEB

When Worlds Collide

Torn In Two

Unbroken

ANGEL

When Angels Cry

When Angels Fall

Angels and Demons

GABRIEL

Hostage Hearts

Ransomed Love

Heroes and Villains

MAXWELL (July 2014)

Not Without Guilt

Trial by Fire

Love’s Conviction

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Born and raised in scenic Coos County, Oregon, CJ enjoys the small town atmosphere and down-to-
earth country folk who populate the area. She is a single mother and lives with her 18-year-old
daughter, 1 horse, 4 dogs and 6 cats deep in the country woodlands which gives her plenty of time to
write.

She is a Christian and a strong supporter of the LGBT community and favors gay erotic romance

when it comes to writing. She hopes that her stories of love and acceptance will help further
compassion and understanding for LGBT people who she feels is greatly misunderstood and
persecuted – in a large party by the Christian community.

Most of all, she is hopeful that her stories will bring comfort to those who have been told that

God hates them because they are different. It is her strong belief that God loves everyone and His
love covers all.

Connect with CJ online:

Facebook.com/AuthorCJBishop

Document Outline