TRIAL BY FIRE

Maxwell, Part 2

Phoenix Club Series Book 14

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.

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Table of Contents

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17

AUTHOR’S NOTE

For the purposes of this story,

the trial that would have typically been held in Chicago,

takes place in New York.

Chapter 1

“Broken Memories”

Max hesitated in the shadows of the concrete pillars. Horatio sat on the steps where Max and Seth
had been sitting earlier, head in his hands, still and quiet. He looked beaten. Defeated. It wasn’t often
that Horatio Kaplan allowed his vulnerabilities to surface for the world to see. And when they did
reach through and become visible to the naked eye – it was then that Max knew to be concerned.

He took a step forward then halted when Horatio slowly raised his head. His hand came up and

wiped at his face as he inhaled wetly. “Fuck, Max...”

Tension stiffened Max; was Horatio talking to him? Did he know he was there? He waited,

unmoving. Horatio gave no indication that he was aware of his presence. The man drove his hand
through his hair then cleared his throat. This was the second time today that Max had come upon
Horatio in tears.

Do you still love me? Earlier in the corridor outside the courtroom hadn’t been the first time

Horatio had asked that. The morning after Horatio’s seventeenth birthday, he’d stood outside Max’s
door and begged Max to talk to him. Max hadn’t replied with an ‘I love you, too’ when Horatio had
said he’d loved him. He hadn’t answered when Horatio had asked if Max still loved him. Just as he
hadn’t answered the same question a short while ago inside the courthouse.

He watched Horatio on the steps, listened to the quiet sounds of him struggling to control his

emotions, his tears. What was going on? Why was the man taking all of this so hard now? Max
realized that Horatio had never taken it “well”, but for a lot of years he had at least put on a front,
rarely allowing Max to see how much it was hurting him. And Max had been grateful. He didn’t want
to see the hurt in Horatio when there was nothing he could do to fix it.

But now, it was as if the man’s resolve had crumbled and everything was coming to the surface at

once. And it wasn’t only Horatio breaking down. After twenty years, Max had broken his own rule
and slept with Horatio. And not just once. Had that been the final breaking point for Horatio? Making
love to Max again after all that time? Was he unable to go back to living without him? If Max were to
be honest with himself, he would have to admit he was having a hell of a time trying to get back to
where he had been before.

All his talk of them moving on, making a life with other people...had he really believed it to be

possible? Horatio had always been “the one”, right from the start. And right or wrong, making love to
him recently had felt more right than anything else had in two decades. Maybe his mind couldn’t
accept it, couldn’t allow him to just let go and be with Horatio – but his heart and his body was
clearly ready and willing to throw the facts aside and just love the man.

Max considered returning inside, just leaving Horatio to himself. Surely the man didn’t want to

have to explain his show of emotions. Not again. But Max couldn’t move, couldn’t walk away from
the sight of Horatio crumbling beneath the mountain of pain Max had dumped on him when he’d
walked out all those years ago. Despite what he’d told Xavier, Max had tried to convince himself that
Horatio would be okay, in time. That he would let Max go, move on, fall in love again. But he hadn’t.
He had never been “okay” without Max. And even now, when Max looked at him, he still saw that
seventeen-year-old boy staring back at him, his love for Max exploding in his eyes. Horatio had
loved him with such an innocent, pure love. In some ways it had seemed almost fragile. Maybe that

was why Max had been able to tell himself it would break and release Horatio, allow him to move in
another direction.

But watching Horatio now, Max came to the heartbreaking realization that it was the pure and

innocent love that held on the tightest, that refused to let go even when the odds were stacked against
it, always believing, hoping, and praying for that miracle that would right the wrong.

There is no miracle for us, Horatio. Nothing can undo this. Our fate was set in stone a long

time ago.

When Max had left that day, he had been on the run. But before he’d disappeared for good, he had

taken one last walk out to the pond, had allowed himself one final remembrance of the short time he
had loved Horatio so freely.

***

The early afternoon sun sparkled across the surface of the pond. Max gazed at the water. Xavier
surely thought he was long gone by now. Max had driven away in his car, but hadn’t made it more
than a couple of miles before he’d circled back and come here to their special place. He’d parked
at the far end of the large pond and walked the path that led around the perimeter. When he’d left,
he hadn’t intended to come back, but the hurt and tears in Horatio’s voice that morning as he’d
stood outside Max’s door...it was tearing Max apart. Could he really just leave this way?

His gaze shifted from the water to the grass. He had promised Horatio he wouldn’t set foot

outside their house until he could take him with him. He had sworn he wouldn’t leave him behind.
Maybe he hadn’t known the facts when he had made those promises...but they were still promises
made not to be broken. And Horatio would keep them close to his heart, regardless of reality.
Horatio wouldn’t care about the “facts”, his love for Max reached too far and too deep for
anything to deter it.

Sinking down to the ground, Max drew up his legs and hugged them against his chest then

pushed his face against his knees, crying softly. Maybe he could just wait here. Horatio would
come to the pond looking for him, he knew he would. They could just get in his car and leave. No
one else but Xavier knew about them. No one else had to know...did they?

‘He’s your own flesh and blood, Max. It will never be right. Maybe Horatio can ignore reality,

but you can’t. You know you can’t. It will slowly tear you apart inside if you try to be with him.’

Xavier’s wisdom.
Max hated the man right now. Hated every syllable that had fallen from his lips, every word

that widened the chasm between Max and Horatio, with no way to bridge it. But as much as he
hated him and his fatal words...the man was right. Horatio could easily scale that hurdle...but Max
would stumble every time. His mind would never be able to overlook the truth about himself and
Horatio.

Still, he didn’t move from the spot where the greatest moments of his life had taken place. He

could hear every word Horatio had ever said to him, feel every touch he’d received from his
amazing hands, and taste his heavenly kisses, given so freely, too many to count.

The strength left his body and he laid down on the grass, his face turned towards the pond.

Tears dripped onto the ground even after he closed his eyes. Pain coiled in his chest and tightened
until he was sucking for air, his breath staggered and broken. “I’m sorry, Horatio...I’m so sorry,
baby...”

His head told him to get up and leave. Just put it all behind him. But his body wouldn’t budge,

feeling like dead weight. Maybe he was dead. But if so, how could everything still hurt so fucking
bad?

His cheek pressed against the cool grass as he choked on his sobs. It wasn’t until he heard

Horatio’s cries that he realized he had fallen asleep and slept the afternoon away. Though still a
distance away, he could hear Horatio racing through the grass towards the pond, Max’s name on
his lips.

A sudden rush of cries erupted out of Max and he scrambled to his feet. ‘You can’t let him find

you here! You can’t be here! You know you can’t!’

His legs felt weak, unsteady, as he ran for the path, tears streaking his face, throat tight and

choking him with sobs. He stumbled and fell as he rounded a curve in the path, and remained there
on the ground. If Horatio decided to come that way, he would find him, because Max couldn’t
move. And if Horatio found him...Max wouldn’t leave him. Face to face with the boy’s pain, there
would be no way he could just walk away. That was why he hadn’t opened his door that morning.
If he had, he could have never made the choice to leave.

“Max!”
Horatio’s cries exploded through his head, shattering his mind and ripping a huge gash down

through his heart. Max covered his ears and shut his eyes, body shaking with sobs. But nothing
could hold back Horatio’s screams of anguish, or the devastation it caused inside of Max.

***

I took his life. Max knew it was true, as surely as if he’d put a gun to Horatio’s head and pulled the
trigger. Horatio had died that day. They both had.

Tears rolled down his face and he hurriedly wiped them away. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, too

low for Horatio to hear.

Or so he thought.
Horatio was on his feet in an instant, facing him. A startled look widened his damp, reddened

eyes; he hadn’t known Max was there. Max knew that the evidence of his own tears was stark,
obvious.

“What did you say?” Horatio asked with a thickness to his voice. He was barely holding it

together.

In that moment, Max wished he could take it all back. Every ounce of pain he had caused Horatio.

But some things couldn’t be undone. Nothing had changed. The facts remained.

He wasn’t equipped to heal the hurt inside Horatio.

Chapter 2

“Without You In My Life”

I’m Sorry. Max’s lightly whispered words, so soft, had packed the punch of a heavyweight boxer.
Horatio stared at him, taking in the wetness of the man’s eyes, the utter look of distress emanating
forth. He looked as Horatio felt – broken.

Max shifted uneasily at Horatio’s question. “Nothing,” he murmured.
He was a damn frustrating man and Horatio wanted to grab him and shake him and insist he give

him a straight answer. But Max never would, not really. The closest he’d come was that day in his
office at the club, when Max had admitted how much it hurt to remember the past. But then he’d
closed back up again.

“Right,” Horatio whispered and lowered his gaze. Being in Max’s presence caused a lead ball of

tension and pain to settle in the center of his chest, making it hard to breathe.

When he was sure Max would simply turn and walk back inside, the man stepped forward

instead. “Horatio...” he hesitated as if he were about to cross into unforbidden territory, and wasn’t
certain he wanted to go there. He ventured forward with a cautious air. “We’re still friends. If
something is wrong, you can talk to me about it. You’ve been upset all day, and I can’t help but feel it
has to do with more than the trial, more than...than you moving away. What’s really wrong?”

Why the fuck do you ask questions you know the answers to? “It doesn’t matter,” Horatio

mumbled, “I’ll deal with it.”

“With what?”
Horatio slowly stepped up on the main level with Max. “It doesn’t matter,” he said thickly. “And

you don’t have to pretend that we’re friends, or that...” His eyes misted heavily. “Or that you even
really care.”

“What the hell are you talking about, Horatio?” Hurt tainted Max’s voice, shadowing his eyes.

“I’m not pretending. And I do care. You know damn well that I do.”

Horatio looked away; Max was right. He wasn’t being fair to the man. “I’m sorry.”
“Horatio, you can talk to me.”
“No, Max. I can’t,” he whispered. “Not about this.”
Max dropped his head and stared at the ground. “What happened?” he murmured. “We were doing

fine, until...”

Horatio stared at him. “Until you let me into your bed,” he finished for him.
A long exhale of breath slipped out of Max and he raised his head. “Yeah. Until then.”
“Do you wish you could go back and undo that as well?”
“As well?” Max frowned, uncertain.
Horatio shifted and glanced away. “I heard what you told Seth,” he said quietly. “How you would

go back and change things if you could, that you wouldn’t want me to love you.”

“Horatio,” Max stepped forward hesitantly. “I only said that because it would have spared you

twenty years of heartache if you’d never fallen in love with me. If not for me, you could’ve had a full
life, had a family. Fuck,” Max said thickly, “you could’ve been happy.”

“I don’t want to be happy without you.” The words came out in a rush of hurt and bitterness, and

Horatio realized his mistake too late. But he couldn’t take them back now.

The startled look in Max’s eyes gave warning to his next words. “And what about Seth?” Max

asked quietly. “You don’t want to be happy with him?”

“I just meant...” Horatio sighed; What? What had he “just” meant?
“Seth is a good guy, Horatio,” Max said. “And he cares about you a lot. Don’t mess up something

good...because of me. Over something that can never happen. Just because we enter relationships with
other people, it doesn’t mean we’re leaving each other behind. We’ll always be a part of one
another’s lives.”

A stab of pain cut through Horatio and he turned away. You’ve been leaving me behind for the

last twenty years, Max. He closed his eyes, clenching his jaw to force back his emotions. He had
never really found Max again after he had left...not the Max who used to love him so openly. A part of
Horatio had believed if he presented these new “facts” to the man, then it would resurrect that boy
who had looked at him like he was his whole world. But maybe it was too late for that. Maybe that
Max was gone for good.

Annihilated by the revelation of Xavier Kaplan’s sins.
Perhaps all the signs had been there that day he’d located Max after five years of searching...but

he just hadn’t wanted to see them.

***

It was a long shot, and his expectations of finding the Max he was looking for were fading fast, yet
he still stepped up to the door with a tiny glimmer of hope that refused to extinguish, though its
flame was dim and weak. If this proved to be another dead end...would it snuff out? Would he be
left with no choice but to go home and, like a good little obedient son, follow the path his father
had laid out for him? Of course, his dad knew nothing of his secret search for Max, or that it had
been going on since he’d turned eighteen.

Every call he’d made, every door that he’d knocked on – only to be met with a stranger’s voice

or face, it had been another dagger to his heart. He didn’t have much heart muscle left. This would
be the last. If he was wrong again, his heart would be done. It really wouldn’t matter which course
his life took then, because he wouldn’t really be “alive” to feel the joy of success or the
disappointment of failure. Max was his life. That had never changed. And the year between his
seventeenth and eighteenth birthday, while he’d waited to be of legal age to do as he pleased had
been a year of hell for Horatio. At first, he had held onto the belief that Max would eventually
come back for him, that he would see that their love was enough to conquer anything. But his dad
had been right – Max wasn’t coming back.

And so Horatio had gone looking for him. He had thought it would be a simple task, until he

realized Max must have changed his last name, at least, if not his first name as well. That in itself
should have told him that the guy didn’t want to be found, not by Horatio. But he couldn’t let him
go. He had to find him, talk to him, and make him understand that none of what his dad had said
mattered. They had a right to love each other if they damn well wanted to. They wouldn’t be
hurting anyone. It wasn’t as if they were brother and sister, and children were a possibility. What
was the harm? Really?

Standing outside this final door, Horatio tried to convince himself that his argument would

make Max see things his way, even though the knot in his gut insisted otherwise. He raised his fist
to knock, and faltered. His pulse thumped at the base of his throat.

Please let it be Max. Please, God...

Horatio knocked once and he immediately grew light-headed, a funny sensation running down

through his legs, causing them to tremble. For a split second, he thought he might faint as cold
sweats gripped him and a slight nausea welled. His hand shook as he knocked a second time.

“Excuse me?” That voice. Right behind him. “Can I help you?”
Horatio flinched then froze. His fist slowly opened and flattened against the door, supporting

himself as his head began to spin, heart racing. Max. After six years, he sounded exactly the same.

“Hello?”
Swallowing hard, Horatio turned slowly. Max started to speak then went dead silent, eyes

widening. The grocery bag he held in his hand slipped loose as his arm went lax, and hit the hard
floor. Something glass shattered and Horatio instantly caught the scent of wine. Max barely
noticed that the bag had fallen from his grasp as he stared at Horatio in shock.

“Max,” Horatio trembled, his voice barely audible. The man had matured in appearance, but

Horatio still saw the nineteen-year-old boy he had been six years before. Tears rushed up and
Max’s face blurred. Without stopping to think whether or not he should, he threw his arms around
the man and crushed him in a desperate embrace. “I found you,” he choked, hugging him fiercely,
face shoved against his neck. He breathed in his scent, and for the first time in six years – he felt
alive again.

Max was rigid inside his arms, touching him tentatively but not hugging him back. “Horatio?”

He remained stunned, disbelieving.

Forcing his arms to release the man, Horatio drew back, tears on his face. “Max.” He touched

Max’s face as if it were the Holy Grail; and it was. For Horatio, it was.

“Horatio, what...” Max stepped back a little, away from Horatio’s touch. “What are you doing

here?”

Please, Max. Don’t do this, Horatio wanted to cry as he saw the wall go up in the man’s eyes,

shutting him out. “I’ve...I’ve been searching for you, Max,” he whispered unsteadily, “for a long
time.”

Max’s lips tightened, his eyes pinching with uncertainty, even fear. “Does Xavier know you’re

here?”

“No,” Horatio shook his head. “I didn’t tell him I was looking for you. I don’t...I don’t even

talk to him that much anymore. I haven’t since...”

As if suddenly realizing he’d dropped the bag, Max sank to his heels and gathered the

contents, carefully picking up the pieces of the broken wine bottle. “You can’t be here, Horatio,”
he said quietly, keeping his focus on the floor. “If Xavier found out, he would...”

“What, Max?” Horatio asked thickly. “What would he do? What could he do? We’re not kids.”
The contents of the bag balancing precariously in his arms, the broken bottle wrapped in the

torn and soiled bag itself, Max stood and moved around Horatio and managed to unlock the door
to his apartment. He entered and went to the kitchen as Horatio followed without an invitation.
Max dumped the broken bottle in the trash and set the other items on the counter and stood
motionless, not looking at Horatio. “You have to leave, Horatio. You shouldn’t be here.”

Horatio shook his head. “I’m not leaving, Max.” His chin trembled. “I’ve been looking for you

for five years.”

Max closed his eyes and ducked his head. “Don’t waste your life on me, Horatio,” he

whispered. “You need to just...to just forget everything – forget me – and get on with your life.”

“You are my life, Max,” Horatio choked. “Without you...I’m nothing. Life is nothing.”
“Stop it,” Max bit his lip, his throat working. He opened his eyes slowly and a thick sheen of

tears glazed his eyes but still he wouldn’t look at Horatio. “Horatio...there’s nothing for you here.
You have to know that.”

“I don’t care about any of it, Max,” Horatio whispered, voice shaking. He stepped towards

Max, needing him back in his arms. “I love you. I promised I would never stop loving you, and I
didn’t. Not for one second. There hasn’t been anyone else. I don’t want anyone else, Max. I just
want you.” Tears rolled down his cheeks. “Please, Max, don’t send me away. I need to be with
you. We can go away somewhere, far away, to another country. I have the money, Max. We can go
anywhere you want. We can have anything we want. We can be together.”

“Stop it, Horatio!” Max cried, startling Horatio. “Just fucking stop, okay? We can’t be

together. God, what is wrong with you? We’re fucking...brothers, for Christ’s sake! Or...close
enough. Why the hell can’t you see that there’s never going to be anything between us? How can
you even want it? Fuck!” He shoved his hand through his hair and turned his back to Horatio,
choking on a sob.

Fresh, hot tears rose up and coursed down Horatio’s face. “If you think it’s so wrong,” he

cried softly, “why do you still want it?”

“I don’t.”
“I don’t believe you, Max,” Horatio whispered. “I saw the way you looked at me, just for a

moment. It’s the way you used to look at me before.”

Max laced his fingers behind his neck and shook his head. “No,” he trembled. “I don’t still

want it. Just leave, Horatio.”

“No,” Horatio said. “I’m not leaving. I spent five fucking years looking for you, Max. The

least you can do is fucking talk to me.”

Max’s head ducked lower and one hand slipped loose from his neck, covering his face as he

began to shake with sobs. “Please, Horatio. I can’t do this. I can’t...”

Moving forward, Horatio curled his arms around Max’s neck from behind and laid his head on

his shoulder. “I died when you left me, Max,” he cried quietly. “Please...don’t send me away now.
I can’t be in this life without you. I don’t want to be alive without you. Please let me be with
you...please...”

Chapter 3

“Flight Of The Phoenix”

“I’m not going mess anything up with Seth,” Horatio whispered. He shifted his focus to the courthouse
entrance doors. The wet gloss in his eyes remained prominent but strength was seeping back into his
voice. “As I said, when the trial is over, we will be leaving.”

Max stared at him. Though it would surely be best for everyone if he and Horatio were oceans

apart, it still hurt to think of the man going away and not coming back, at least not for a long time.
Since that first night just a few short weeks ago when he had taken Horatio to his bed after a twenty
year hiatus, his mind and body had been playing a violent and painful game of tug-o-war with his
heart, and it was tearing his heart apart. So even though he knew the rational recourse would be to bid
Horatio farewell and wish him and Seth the best of life and love – a part of him wanted to cling to
Horatio, beg him not to leave.

But in the end, Max would let him go. He would turn his affections to Carl and let the man help

him forget what he wasn’t capable of forgetting on his own. There was a space in his life when he had
believed that time and distance from Horatio would eradicate the guy from his mind and heart.

Their first year apart had been hell on earth for Max. Every night, he awoke from troubled

dreams, hearing Horatio’s cries, feeling his pain and loss. It had been a sheer physical battle to keep
himself from going back. He’d never felt so sick in all his life as he had that first year away from
Horatio. The stress and anguish had rendered him physically ill. For a time, he thought he might
actually die of a broken heart. And the for the most part, had prayed for death.

But he’d made it through, and then things had gotten a little better. With each passing year, it had

become easier to function. He had thought less and less about Horatio, refusing to let his mind take
him anywhere near the man. By year six, he had been fully convinced he was over Horatio.

Until Horatio had shown up at his door that day out of the blue and proven to him nothing had

been erased. That it was all still there. He had carefully buried it, convinced himself it was dead and
gone. But the grave had been shallow; the “body” still breathing.

Looking at the man now, Max understood that true love was forever – whether it was acceptable

or not. Love didn’t play by the rules, it didn’t strike only those who were free to embrace it.
Sometimes it seemed Cupid was shooting blind, rather than taking careful aim. Maybe in reality he
was just some sadistic little bastard who took pleasure in watching others suffer.

“The trial will be starting again,” Horatio mumbled and walked away, not waiting for Max’s

reply or to see if he would follow him back inside.

Max stood where he was and watched Horatio disappear through the double doors. The man had

grown in stature, but inside – he was still the same boy from all those years ago. Max had known he
always would be when he had looked into Horatio’s eyes that first time after six years. It was then
that he had realized they would both always be those two young lovers who had held onto one another
so tight, loved each other so purely and openly.

They could play “pretend” and build their lives apart, with other people, but under the surface it

still wouldn’t change who they were to one another.

Max often wondered how different their lives would have been, had Horatio not come looking for

him. If he had truly let Max go.

Do you really want to know the answer to that? Try as he might, to this day he couldn’t deny the

sudden rush of joy that had swept through him when he’d found Horatio at his door that day. He’d
fought it, insisted to Horatio that he couldn’t be there, that he shouldn’t be there. But all the while, his
heart was screaming for him to let Horatio back into his life and never again let him go.

***

Please let me be with you.

Max fell apart inside as the younger man clung to him, begged him not to abandon him again.

All this time he had convinced himself that Horatio was doing fine, that he had eventually let go of
Max and moved on, went to college, started a life for himself...maybe even found someone to love.
But none of it was true. All these years...Horatio had been searching for him?

When Max had left, he’d changed his last name – not to prevent Horatio from finding him

should he look, but simply because he didn’t want to be “himself” anymore. He didn’t want to be
the boy ‘related’ to Horatio. Maybe deep down, he thought if he was someone different, then his
memories of him and Horatio wouldn’t be tainted, and that he could look back on them without
feeling the guilt and shame of the ugly truth.

It hadn’t worked. And so he’d shut down those memories, locked them away and refused to look

at them. But that was no longer possible – not with Horatio right here, his arms around him, the
hurt and tears in his voice as he begged him to take him back. Right or wrong, his heart still ached
for the young man, his body still yearned for his touch. And the memories crashed back in on him;
the feel of Horatio’s naked body beneath his hands, his sweet intoxicating kiss, and the heavenly
sensation of being inside him, making love to him, consumed by his love and passion.

Had Horatio not released him two seconds later, Max would have grabbed onto him, taken him

to his bed and never let go of him again for as long as he lived. But Horatio stepped back – and
reality took hold again.

Max cleared his throat and chanced a look at the younger man. He stood back and wiped the

tears from his face. But when he met Max’s stare, the plea remained for Max to keep him.
“Horatio.” His voice trembled and he tried to stabilize it. “You have to be rational about this.
Whatever we...thought we had,” he shook his head slowly, his heart breaking all over again. “It
ended six years ago. You should...you should be over it by now.”

Horatio rubbed his lips together slowly, new tears wavering. “Are you, Max?” he choked

softly. “Are you over it? Are you over...me?”

The true answer was not something Max could give Horatio. Not right then. If he told the truth,

they would end up in bed together; Max knew this for certain. And though it was what he
wanted...it wasn’t what he could have. Horatio was no longer his to love and desire as he had
before. He was the forbidden fruit of paradise.

“I have to be,” he whispered. Horatio’s eyes rested on him like a weight, trying to push him

down to his knees. And oh god, he longed to be on his knees before Horatio – worshipping him,
pleasuring him, loving him.

“What does that even mean, Max?” Horatio shook his head, his hand shaking as he ran it

across his mouth. “You can’t make yourself be over it if you’re not. It doesn’t work like that.”

Max swallowed thickly. “I have to make it work that way,” he said quietly. “We both do.”
“No,” Horatio stepped toward him. “I don’t want to make it work like that. I don’t want to be

over you, Max. Fuck,” he raked his fingers through his hair. “I love you, Max. And I like how that

feels. I don’t want it to stop.”

“Well maybe I do!” Max cried. His jaw clenched as he fought the sobs. “Why would you want

to keep loving me, Horatio? Why? There’s nothing here for you. For either of us. It’s never going
to happen! Why can’t you get that through your head? Fuck!”

“It can happen if we want it to,” Horatio insisted, desperation in his eyes, his voice.
“No, it can’t.” Max shook his head. “It isn’t right, Horatio. It isn’t...natural.”
Horatio looked at him, his hurt wafting off him in waves. “That’s what people say about being

gay. That it isn’t natural for two people of the same sex to be together. But they’re wrong about
that, so why can’t they be wrong about this too?”

“It isn’t the same thing, Horatio,” Max whispered.
“We’re not hurting anyone, Max.” The plea in his voice punched at Max’s heart. “It isn’t like

we’re having kids. Who is it fucking hurting?”

Max rubbed his eyes, tears wetting his fingertips. “Please don’t do this.”
“Just answer me,” Horatio pressed, “Who would we be hurting? It isn’t anyone’s business

anyway.”

“I know it isn’t,” Max murmured thickly. “But I can’t...I can’t wrap my mind around it. I’m

sorry. I just can’t.” He met Horatio’s hurt stare. “I don’t want to have to make you leave, Horatio.
I don’t. But for you to stay, you have to accept that we can’t be what we were before. We can’t be
more than friends, Horatio. And if that isn’t something you can deal with, then...then you will have
to leave.”

A visible struggle broke out within the man, but Max knew before Horatio spoke a word that he

would stay and try to just be Max’s friend. He hadn’t spent all those years looking for him, just to
turn around now and walk away. He would stay. And he would do his damnedest not to let his
feelings show. And ultimately...he would fail. In the end, he would leave on his own. And Max
would have to let him go.

“Fine,” Horatio whispered. “If that’s how you want it.”
It isn’t how I want it, Max cried silently, it isn’t how I “want” it at all. But it’s how it has to

be.

Max simply nodded, not trusting himself to speak just then.
“What was the wine for?” Horatio asked thickly.
Casting a quick glance at the trash, Max shrugged and turned his attention to the groceries on

the counter. “Nothing special. I like to have wine with dinner.” It was a lie. He had been planning
to call up a friend from work and ask him out. He knew the man liked him, and he seemed decent
enough, attractive enough, and Max had decided that it was finally time for him to take that step
and start dating. In six years, he hadn’t once been with another man, though he had refused to
admit that it had anything to do with Horatio. But with the man standing here in his kitchen now,
he couldn’t deny that it had had everything to do with him.

What were the odds that the day he finally decided to start seeing other men that Horatio

would show up suddenly and without warning? If that was fate, then fate had a fucking twisted
sense of humor.

“So...what kind of work do you do?” Horatio asked quietly.
“Bartending.”
Horatio nodded slowly. “Where?”
“A gay club downtown.”
“Hmm.” They hadn’t been so long apart that Max had forgotten how Horatio went quiet and

unresponsive when something was bugging him.

“Something wrong with that?” Max looked at him.
Horatio shrugged. “No.” But Max could see it in his eyes; he didn’t like the idea of Max being

in the constant company of other gay men.

Changing the subject a little, Max started putting away the groceries. “I’ve actually been

thinking about opening a club of my own. I even found the perfect building to lease, have been
working on a business plan and such.”

“Yeah?” Horatio’s tone lightened somewhat with real interest.
“Yeah,” Max smiled.
Horatio sat on a stool at the counter. “Like a dance club?”
“Something like that,” Max murmured, then smiled again. “I was thinking maybe a...strip

club.”

Horatio stared at him. “Like I suggested before?”
“Yes.”
Nodding slowly, Horatio shifted his gaze to the countertop. “I think that’s a great idea,” he

said quietly, sincerely. “What’s stopping you from putting it in motion?”

“Well,” Max went to the fridge, took out two beers and brought them back to the counter. He

handed one to Horatio then opened his own and took a drink. “Once I get my marketing plan
written up, I’ll have to see if I can get a loan from the bank.” He shrugged and took another drink.
“But I don’t know if I make enough at the club for them approve it. Guess I’ll wait and see.”

“Mm-hmm.” Horatio opened his beer and took a small drink then set it aside before digging

into his jacket pocket. He withdrew a checkbook, opened it and scribbled out a check.

“What’re you doing?” Max asked slowly, frowning.
Horatio didn’t answer as he signed the check then ripped it loose and slid it across the counter

to Max. “Is that enough to get you going?”

“Horatio...” Max shook his head as he glanced down at the check – and nearly choked on his

beer. One hundred thousand dollars. “Horatio...no, that’s...”

Horatio pressed one fingertip against the check and slid it closer to Max. “That’s my vote of

confidence. You’re going to be great. And your club will be phenomenal.”

His throat working, Max looked at him. “How do you know?”
Horatio smiled, an ocean of love and adoration in his beautiful eyes. “Because you are.”

***

His dream of the club hadn’t truly become real to Max, he realized, until the moment he had told
Horatio about it. The money Horatio gave him might have set his dream in motion, but it was sharing
it with Horatio that had breathed life into it, and given it wings. And sitting there in his kitchen with
Horatio, the two of them once again talking about their dreams as if they had never parted – it had felt
to Max like rising up out of the ashes and taking flight. Like the mythical Phoenix.

And right then and there with Horatio – because of Horatio – the Phoenix Club had been born.

Chapter 4

“For The Love Of A Boy”

“Just relax, sweetheart,” Cole took Savannah aside and hugged her. “If that guy makes you cry, Gabe
and I...” He looked at Gabe who stood next to him. “We’ll make him cry,” he winked. “Promise.”
Savannah smiled anxiously, but in her soft eyes he saw that she understood he was dead serious.

“We’ve mastered the art of making bad men cry,” Gabe assured her, then kissed her head gently.
The girl nodded then glanced at Maddy with nervous eyes. The boy was standing with Angel and

Dane but watching Savannah.

“Is something wrong?” Cole asked softly.
She looked at him. “He doesn’t know,” Savannah spoke low, soft, a break to her voice.
“Doesn’t know what?” Cole glanced at Gabe then back to Savannah.
“About me,” she whispered. “That I’m...sick.” Tears formed in her eyes. “What if the other

attorney tells everyone? I don’t want him to hear it.”

Cole hugged her again. “You are planning to tell him, though,” he murmured, “right?”
Her arms felt fragile as she wrapped them around his body. “I don’t want him to know.”
“Sweetheart,” Gabe rubbed his hand over her hair, “you’re gonna have to tell him sometime.”
“He won’t like me anymore,” she whispered with tears in her voice.
“What are you talking about?” Cole drew back and touched her cheek. “Maddy isn’t like that. Of

course he would still like you.” He smiled, “We all still like you. In fact, we love you to pieces.”

She shook her head. “It isn’t the same.”
“You like him as more than a friend,” Gabe nodded slowly. “And you think he won’t like you that

way if he knows about your condition?”

Her lips tightened and eyes filled up a little more. “I know I have to tell him eventually, but...”

She bit her lower lip. “I just wanted to know how it felt to be...to be liked that way...for just a little
while.” She hugged Cole again, trembling. “I don’t want to give him up yet.”

“Oh babe,” Cole squeezed her gently in his arms. “I don’t think you’re giving Maddy enough

credit.” He pressed his lips to her soft hair and looked at Gabe; he understood her pain, her fear of
losing the love and affection of someone special to her. Nothing in life hurt worse than that.

“Do you think Angel or...or Dane would take him somewhere else?” she whispered thickly. “I

don’t want him in here.”

Cole sighed and kissed her hair then stepped back out of her arms. “I can ask them.”
“Do you think Maddy will be mad that I don’t want him here?”
Touching her shoulder, Gabe told her, “I think Maddy will understand how hard all of this is for

you.”

“Savannah?” Jensen motioned to her.
Cole gave her another quick hug. “We’ll talk to Dane and Angel.”
“Thank you,” she sniffed and wiped at her eyes.
“You’re going to be okay up there,” Gabe assured. When she walked back over to speak with

Jensen and Abel, Gabe looked at Cole. “That fucker better not harass her on the stand,” he said
tightly. “I do have Clint’s number on speed dial.”

Cole smiled and kissed him. “God, I love you.”

“You better,” Gabe kissed him back. “If you know what’s good for you.”
Cole chuckled, “Oh I know what’s good for me.” As the sexual innuendo left his lips, that sinking

feeling crept back into his gut. Even if Gabe was up for sex, Cole was afraid to go there just yet. He
didn’t really see Faron Ryland as someone who would be careless in his sexual endeavors, but he
had fucked Cole without a condom – who else had he fucked without protection? Cole ached to be
with Gabe again, but they had always made love without condoms because they knew that with each
other it was safe, and they loved the feel of raw flesh against flesh. Gabe would ask questions if Cole
suddenly suggested using protection.

He shoved the thoughts away; this wasn’t the time to be worrying about such things. He caught

Dane’s eye and motioned him over.

“Is everything okay?” Dane asked when he approached them.
Cole explained to him Savannah’s fears and her request that Maddy not be in the courtroom during

her testimony. “She doesn’t want Maddy to find out this way.”

Nodding slowly, Dane glanced back towards Maddy and Angel. Angel was watching them. “I

understand,” he said quietly. “I’ll talk to them.”

Horatio Kaplan walked past them and went to the front to speak with Jensen. The three men

looked at him then turned their attention to the courtroom doors when Max entered a few moments
later. The man looked distraught as he approached them.

“Max?” Dane frowned, concerned. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” There was a rasp to Max’s voice that betrayed his emotions. His gaze followed

Horatio to the front of the courtroom. “How is Savannah? I’m worried about her being up there.”

“Me too,” Cole murmured. “But maybe Tate will go easy. I mean, he has to know he’ll lose points

with the jury if he harasses a young girl on the stand. And there’s just something about Savannah that
makes everyone fall in love with her. I think the jurors would frown on any harsh questioning.
Especially after Abel’s testimony.”

“I hope you’re right,” Max said quietly.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Dane looked at their boss, unconvinced. Cole was fully aware of the

intimacy that had been shared between Dane and Max. The two men had bonded on a deep level.
Cole suspected that Max had told Dane things that the rest of them weren’t privy to. Possibly things
about himself and Horatio Kaplan. The two men obviously had history, and troubled history at that.
But the details remained a mystery to Cole. And at the club, one’s past was private and not to be
intruded upon without invitation.

***

Dane walked with Max back to the row where Carl, Caleb and Samuel were seated, but stopped him
just before they were in hearing distance of the three men. “Talk to me, Max,” Dane spoke low, “I can
see that everything isn’t all right.” He glanced toward Horatio. “Are you and Horatio having
problems?”

Though Dane admired both men for making the attempt to lay the past to rest and start new lives

for themselves, he also knew they would fail in their endeavors. What they had, the love they shared –
it would never be laid to rest. He understood Max’s resistance to his own feelings for Horatio, and
why he would fight it so hard. Maybe Dane was just a hopeless romantic and believed that love was
more important than anything else, but had it been him in Max’s place – and Angel he was related to –
there would have been no way in hell he could have held him at arm’s length for two decades. He

didn’t know if that made him immoral, or even sick on some level, but he was honest enough with
himself to admit he would have said “fuck it” and loved the boy anyway.

“Horatio is moving away,” Max said thickly.
“Moving away?” Dane frowned.
“Away. Overseas,” Max explained. “And he’s not coming back.”
“Why would he do that?”
Max shook his head slowly, his eyes on Horatio. “I think he tells himself it’s for him and Seth, to

give them a chance to start a real life together. But...” he swallowed thickly. “I think that...he thinks I
want him to leave, though I told him I didn’t.” He inhaled deep then released slow. “But I guess I
don’t blame him for thinking that. Back at the club a few days ago, when he was there and we had that
argument in my office...I pretty much told him we needed to move on from each other. Why wouldn’t
he think that I just wanted him gone?”

Looking at the man, Dane had his suspicions that there was more troubling Max than just the

prospect of Horatio moving away. “Is there something else, Max?”

Horatio shifted and glanced back at Max. Their eyes held for a second then they both looked

away. “No,” Max whispered, “there isn’t anything else.”

Dane stood still as the man took his seat on the bench next to Carl. There isn’t anything else .

There was a sense of defeat to his words. Or was it simply final “surrender”?

He would talk to Max later, when they had more privacy. Right now, he had others things to deal

with. Dane walked back over to Angel and Maddy. The boy had wanted to be here today for
Savannah. How would he take it when he learned that Savannah didn’t want him in the courtroom
while she gave her testimony? He wouldn’t be mad, that just wasn’t Maddy. But would it hurt him?

“Hey,” Dane said softly and cleared his throat. “Could I talk to you both, out in the hall?”
Maddy glanced anxiously toward Savannah. “But Savannah is going on any time.”
“I know, but...,” Dane sighed. “It’s important.”
“What’s wrong?” Angel asked, instantly on edge. The young man had been through so much

recently that it didn’t take a lot to cause him to worry.

Dane slid his arm around Angel’s shoulder and kissed his head. “Nothing is wrong, babe,” he

assured. “But we do need to talk.” He touched Maddy’s back with his free hand. “Now.”

In the corridor, Angel stepped from beneath his arm and faced him. “What is it?” An uneasy look

pinched Maddy’s face.

“It’s about Savannah,” Dane started slowly, shifting his focus to Maddy. “There are things that she

will be questioned about that, well, make her feel very uncomfortable.” His lips tightened. “She
asked for you not to be in there, Maddy.” When uncertainty darkened the boy’s eyes, Dane added,
“not because she doesn’t want you here, but because she doesn’t want you to hear some of the things
she will have to say.”

Maddy frowned, confused. “But I don’t care. I mean, I know she went through hell. Nothing she

says is going to make me think bad about her.”

“I know that, bud,” Dane squeezed his shoulder gently. “And I’m sure she knows that, too. But

sometimes, there are things you just don’t want the boy you’re crushing on to hear.”

His brow pinching, Maddy cocked his head. “Crushing on?”
Dane had added that for “distraction” and for the moment it seemed to be working. “Don’t tell me

you haven’t noticed?” One eyebrow raised slowly. “Or were you too busy crushing back to notice?”

A slight pinkish hue warmed Maddy’s cheeks and he glanced away. “You’re nuts, dude,” he

mumbled.

Dane chuckled. “Am I now? I believe I recall you getting all spiffed up this morning, and holding

her hand in the courtroom.”

“We’re just friends,” Maddy evaded Dane’s gaze, though a smile tugged the boy’s lips.
“Hmm. Does Savannah know you’re just friends?”
Maddy finally shot him an exasperated look. “You can be annoying.”
Laughing softly, Angel nodded, “Indeed, he can be.”
“Hey,” Dane feigned hurt. “No fair ganging up on me.” He winked at Angel who gazed back with

warm love in his eyes. But behind that love, the young man knew there was more going on here.

“We can go back over to the restaurant for a little while,” Angel said. Maddy sobered and it was

clear the boy still wasn’t in favor of leaving the trial.

Dane wrapped his arm around Angel again. “I’ll come with you. Cole and Gabe are standing

point in case that asshole gets out of line.”

The three men walked across the street to the restaurant, taking their previous table by the

window. Maddy walked ahead and went straight into the back. Once he was gone, Angel asked, “So
what’s really going on? Why doesn’t Savannah want him there?”

Dane rubbed his mouth slowly. He had never told Angel everything about Savannah. He didn’t

know whether or not it was his place to reveal to Angel the details of her condition, but Angel was
perceptive enough to know that Dane was keeping something from him. Dane glanced towards the
back of the restaurant, then looked at Angel and lowered his voice. “There’s something you need to
know about Savannah. But you have to promise me you will not tell Maddy.” He sighed and added,
“It’s something Savannah needs to tell him herself.”

Uncertainty tightened Angel’s brow. “What is it?” he asked cautiously.
Dane took his hand and kissed it softly, his throat knotting up at the cold reality of his revelation.

“Savannah...has HIV.”

Chapter 5

“Suffer The Children”

The tension that grabbed hold of Abel when Savannah was led up to the stand and sworn in was much
more fierce than his own when he had given his testimony earlier. Tate could be severely damaging
without traditional “harassment”. It hadn’t been until the end of his questioning that he’d begun to
really fuck with Abel’s mind. It had all been head games, he knew that much, but the man had
nonetheless managed to plant that one tiny seed of doubt in Abel – and then tricked him into
confessing it.

Jensen had explained to them that Tate had used Abel to set up his attacks on both Savannah and

Devlin. He knew exactly what Tate planned to do to discredit their testimonies – or at least create
strong reasonable doubt with the jurors.

Sitting directly behind him now, Devlin’s closeness gave him comfort and eased his fears as

Jensen began to question Savannah, taking her through the relevant events at the orphanage. He had
coached her on delivering clear and concise answers.

“I know this is a difficult thing to talk about, Savannah,” Jensen said, “but I need to ask you about

the night that Craig Grant allegedly assaulted Abel.”

The man’s use of the word “alleged” didn’t upset Abel. Until a witness testimony was

established, as far as the court was concerned it was simply Abel’s word against the reputation of
Craig Grant.

Careful not to “lead” her and invoke an objection from Tate, Jensen asked simply, “Do you

remember what happened that night?”

“Yes,” Savannah nodded, face pinched with tension.
“You were only ten years old at the time,” Jensen pointed out. “Are you sure remember the events

clearly?”

“I remember,” Savannah said thickly.
“Can you tell the court what you remember of that night?”
Savannah glanced at Abel. That had been the most traumatic night of Savannah’s life; a ten-year-

old little girl forced to witness her brother’s rape. Close your eyes, don’t look . Tears welled as the
memory burned fresh in Abel’s mind as well. She had closed her eyes, but that hadn’t shut out the
sound of his cries and screams, or the noises coming out of Craig as he took pleasure in the assault.

“The other girl I had been sharing my room with had been adopted,” Savannah started slowly;

quiet but clearly audible. “We were supposed to have the lights off by nine o’clock, but I was scared
to sleep in a dark room alone, so I left my lamp on.” She shifted uneasily. “Craig saw the light under
my door and came in. He reminded me it was against the rules to have my light on. I told him I was
scared of the dark, scared to be alone. All my life Abel had been with me at night. But when we came
to the orphanage, they wouldn’t let us share a room because it was against the rules for boys and girls
to sleep in the same room.”

“What did Craig do when you told him you were scared to be alone?” Jensen asked.
Looking down at her hands, Savannah’s lips tightened. “He said he understood and asked if I

wanted him to stay with me until I fell asleep.”

“And what did you tell him?”

She shook her head slowly. “I didn’t really like him, and Abel had told me to stay away from him.

But he was being nice, and I didn’t want to be alone. I told him he could stay.”

“And then what happened?”
“He started asking me about Abel, about our life with our parents. And then...and then he started

asking me other questions.”

“What other questions?” Jensen asked.
“He...” She swallowed thickly and grew even more uncomfortable. “He asked if I had ever seen

my brother...naked. And if he had ever...touched me.” Her lips tightened again. “I didn’t really know
what he was talking about, and then he started touching me in my private spots, like he was just
explaining what he meant. I didn’t like it and scooted away from him. Then he started asking about
Abel again, asking what his body looked like naked, what his...private parts looked like and if...and if
I’d ever touched him.” Her eyes shimmered. “If I’d ever...tasted him. Then he got this strange look in
his eyes and started saying that he bet he tasted real good. Then he touched himself, like it was turning
him on.”

Jensen nodded slowly. “And then what did he do?”
Savannah ducked her head. “He started touching me too...while he was touching himself. When he

tried to reach under my gown, I started crying and tried to move away. But...but I couldn’t. Then he
grabbed me and held me down and...and laid on top of me.” Tears broke and slid down her cheeks as
the horror of that night came back to her, etching across her face. “He was so...heavy. I couldn’t
hardly breathe, but I still tried to scream. And then Abel came in and tried to pull him off me.”

Abel’s gut twisted and pinched as she went on to tell him the same story Abel had told of Craig

giving him the option of taking her place. And how Craig had raped Abel right there on the bed in
front of her.

Nausea worked itself up again. He understood the tension and anguish coursing through Savannah

at that moment. Tears streaked her face and she hugged herself as Abel had done.

Jensen asked her a few more questions, keeping them brief, then finished up. The judge gave her a

few minutes to compose herself, then called for Tate’s cross examination.

***

Angel hadn’t said much since Dane had explained Savannah’s condition. It was clear to him that the
feelings Maddy was developing for Savannah were much stronger than a simple teenage crush. In
many ways, Maddy was a lot more mature than most boys his age. Life had forced him to grow up
before his time. As it had forced Savannah as well. But what did this new revelation mean for Maddy
and Savannah? Maddy wouldn’t run from this, he knew that much. But what future did that leave
them? Angel didn’t know a lot about HIV but he knew it was often the precursor to AIDS. If a deeper
relationship did develop between the kids...could they ever be truly intimate?

“Hey?” Dane said softly and took his hand. “I’m sorry to just drop this on you this way. And I

realize that Maddy has a right to know. But...”

“No, I...I understand.” Angel looked at him. “Maddy needs to hear it from Savannah.”
Dane squeezed his hand then raised it to his lips, kissing his fingers. “She thinks she will lose him

when she tells him.”

Shaking his head slowly, Angel murmured, “No. I don’t think that will happen.”
“I don’t think so either.”
“Shit.” Angel rubbed his face then drove his hand through his hair. “How did she contract it?”

Dane sighed and shook his head. “Abel thinks she got stuck with a dirty needle. They were living

on the streets, digging through garbage cans for food. He remembers one time when she said
something stabbed her.”

“Life is just fucking great,” Angel whispered, a note of bitterness to his words. “I swear to God,

it’ll kick you in the fucking face every chance it gets.” His eyes stung and he rubbed them with his free
hand, his other still buried in Dane’s grasp.

“Hey, come on, babe,” Dane murmured. “I think we’ve all been doing pretty good about coming

out on top.” He kissed Angel’s hand. “This sucks, no doubt about it, but we’ll get through it as well.
They might have to be careful, but it doesn’t mean they can’t have a full and enriching relationship. I
mean, if it comes to that.”

Angel nodded slowly, his vision blurring. “I know. But why does every damn thing have to be

fucked up? Savannah and Maddy have been through enough. Why the hell can’t this one thing be easy
for them? I mean, why can’t God cut them one fucking break in this fucking life?”

Shifting around to Angel’s side of the table, Dane held him. “I know it feels unfair on God’s part,”

Dane whispered, his lips to his hair. “And to us, it seems like God could just snap his fingers and
make everything right and perfect. But we have to remember, babe, that we live in an imperfect
world. And it’s imperfect because God gave us free will. People make bad choices that infringe on
the lives of others.” He kissed his hair softly. “I think God is pretty good about taking these messed up
situations and bringing good out of them.” His arms tightened and he ducked his head, brushing his
lips across Angel’s ear. “Just look around you, baby. God took you and Maddy out of a horrible place
and gave you a family who loves you, who would do anything for you. And he took you and me,
Angel...and woke us up from our nightmare, and fashioned our hearts to love one another.”

Angel hugged him and buried his face in his throat, warm tears wetting Dane’s skin.
“And this situation here,” Dane said softly, “with Maddy and Savannah...I don’t think it was any

accident that it was Maddy who came into Savannah’s life and loved her. God knew it would take a
strong, special young man to face this head on and not back down or run away. So you see,” he drew
back and touched Angel’s chin, lifting his face, “God is working for us, not against us.” He kissed him
warmly. “Everything is going to be all right.” He kissed him again. “Okay?”

“Okay,” Angel whispered, throat tight. How could he believe anything else? Just having Dane in

his life was all the proof he really needed that God, indeed, gave a damn.

***

The tension in Cole seemed to sizzle on the surface of his skin as he sat rigid next to Gabe. The man
watched Bronson Tate with narrowed eyes of steel. Gabe stretched his arm along the back of the
bench and massaged the back of Cole’s stiff neck. Cole relaxed a little but never took his eyes off the
prosecutor as the attorney approached Savannah.

The man offered Savannah a warm look of compassion and sympathy. “You love your brother,

don’t you?” he asked with a soft tone.

“Of course,” Savannah murmured, watching him warily.
That’s it, sweetheart, Gabe thought, don’t trust him. He isn’t your friend.
“He’s been a good brother to you?”
“Yes.”
Tate nodded slowly. “He took care of you, didn’t he? When the two of you were still with your

parents?”

Savannah nodded again. “Yes.”
“And after the orphanage,” Tate said, “you were living on the streets for awhile, is that right?”
“Yes.”
“And what was that like?” Tate asked.
Savannah looked at him anxiously. “It was hard. And...kind of scary.”
“But your brother,” Tate looked at Abel, “he took care of you out there as well?”
“Yes,” Savannah said quietly. “He made sure I had food, and a warm coat. And always tried to

find us a safe place to sleep at night.”

“Sounds like an amazing brother.”
Gabe’s blood simmered; the fucker was working his way around to something, and it was a sure

bet it wouldn’t be in Abel’s favor.

“He is,” Savannah looked at Abel again, her face softening. “The best.”
“I guess you could say he pretty much saved your life all the way around, huh?”
“Yeah.” Savannah was back to watching him with uncertainty.
Tate nodded and smiled, but it had the feel of a viper about to strike. Cole tensed up tighter

beneath Gabe’s hand. “So,” Tate ventured, “I bet there’s nothing in this world you wouldn’t do for
him, is there?”

“I would do anything for him,” Savannah admitted openly.
“Mm-hm.” Tate steepled his fingers and touched them to his lips. “Would you lie for him?”
“That fucker,” Cole hissed low.
Savannah just stared at the man. Surely Jensen had anticipated this line of attack. “I wasn’t lying

about Craig,” she spoke low, but with a shadow of defiance.

Rather than acknowledge her statement, Tate asked, “You were ten years old when Craig Grant

allegedly assaulted your brother, is that right?”

“Yes.”
“That’s a fairly young age,” he said. “And considering all that you went through afterwards, trying

to survive on the streets and such...” His eyes pinched a little. “It seems odd that your recollection of
the events at the orphanage are so crisp and clear, so detailed. Almost...word for word as your
brother described it.”

Chapter 6

“Past Recollections”

When Max grew tense next to him, Carl leaned close. “What the fuck is Tate getting at?” he asked.
“That she’s lying to protect Abel?”

“Looks like that’s where he’s going,” Max murmured, a slightly dull tone to his voice. Though he

stared straight forward at the proceedings, his eyes had a distant, somewhat empty look in them. Carl
shifted his attention to the row behind them where Horatio had returned to his place at the aisle end of
the bench. The look on his face mirrored Max’s.

He sighed and faced forward again. Carl had waited a long time to get up close and personal with

Max, and he didn’t know if he was ready to back off again so soon. Was there really even any cause
to so do? Max might be in love with Horatio, but it was clear by now that he had no intentions of
acting on it. But even so, being with Max meant accepting that he would never be first in his heart.
Was he willing to reside in second place?

As if picking up on his thoughts, Max took hold of Carl’s hand and squeezed with affection, and

maybe a little desperation. Carl tightened his fingers around the man’s hand; perhaps he would never
be the love of Max’s life, but he would be there for him to hold onto for as long as Max needed him.
Max had taken all of his boys in without a second thought – including Carl – and given them a place to
call home, created a family, which many of them had never known before. In some cases, Max’s care
and hospitality had literally saved lives. And the only thing he had ever asked for in return was their
loyalty and honesty. Carl would be damned if he would walk away from Max now when he needed
him the most, just because he wasn’t the man of Max’s dreams.

Carl kissed Max’s shoulder then whispered, “This is turning into one hell a long and stressful

day.”

Max nodded slowly then looked at him. He looked tired, emotionally exhausted. “I’m so ready for

it to be over,” he admitted quietly.

“Do you want to stay with me again tonight?” Carl dipped in and softly kissed his ear. “I love

falling asleep in your arms...waking up to you in the morning.”

A light tremor rushed through Max’s body and Carl didn’t attempt to interpret it. Whether it was

the thought of being with Carl that caused the tremor, or the sudden recollection of a past memory
concerning Horatio...Carl didn’t need to know.

“I love it too,” Max said softly. “I do want to stay with you tonight.”
Another quick glance at the row behind them and Carl caught Horatio watching them. The pain

inside the man seemed to be drifting closer and closer to the surface for all to see. The rare times that
Horatio Kaplan had visited the club in times past, he had always radiated a very cool, sophisticated,
debonair exterior. He hadn’t seemed like a man who could be shaken to his very foundation. At first
glance, Carl had taken him to be all about using money to get whatever he wanted, without regard for
others. It used to baffle Carl what a man like Max was doing associating with someone of Kaplan’s
sort. They had seemed to be at opposite ends of the spectrum. But after Kaplan’s “dealings” with
Abel, it was as if the man had done an about face and changed overnight. Except, Carl understood
now, the man hadn’t “changed” but simply revealed his true self. And Carl had to say – he liked the
“real” Horatio Kaplan much better than the façade he had previously created. But he understood the

purpose of the mask. There was a hell of a lot of pain living inside the man and he had clearly been
trying to conceal it, no doubt from himself as well as Max and the rest of the world.

***

The courtroom was static with a low murmur of voices as Tate paced back and forth in front of the
witness stand, reminding Cole of a lion stalking its prey. Cole studied the faces of the jurors, trying to
read their reactions to the prosecutor’s open implications regarding Savannah’s testimony.

“Let me ask you this,” Tate continued, returning to his soft tone and jumping topics again, leaving

his last statement hanging for the jurors to ponder and examine while he made another point. “When
you and your brother were on the streets, did he take you to a shelter at night? You said he tried to
find you a safe place to sleep each night. Was that safe place ever a shelter?”

Savannah shook her head slowly. “No.”
“Why is that?” Tate eyed her inquisitively. “Wouldn’t that have been the logical choice?

Especially on winter nights?”

She lowered her eyes. “He said it was too risky,” she told him. “He was afraid of getting caught

and being taken away from me.”

“Getting caught,” Tate murmured. “For his crimes committed against Craig Grant?”
“Yes.”
“But both you and your brother insist that his actions were self-defense?”
“Yes,” Savannah said quietly.
“Yet if he were truly innocent of murder...why did he fear the authorities to such a degree that he

would risk your life on the cold, dangerous streets,” he met her wavering stare, “rather than just turn
himself in and explain what happened?”

Savannah swallowed thickly and glanced at Abel. “He...he didn’t think they would believe him.”
“He didn’t think they would. But he didn’t know for certain, did he?” Tate posed. “It was

possible that the authorities would have sided with him. Wasn’t it?”

“I guess so,” Savannah admitted uncertainly. “But he didn’t want to risk it.”
“So it was better to risk your life...than his own?” Tate asked.
Cole shifted on the bench, his pulse quickening. “I really hate this motherfucker,” he muttered.

Gabe touched his back as Cole leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, face tight. “He
thinks he’s so fucking clever, messing with a young girl’s mind.”

Savannah frowned. “What?”
“Isn’t it possible that your brother was actually more concerned with protecting himself?” Tate

pressed on. “And isn’t it true that because you were forced to live on the streets, that this food that
your brother supplied for you...often came out of dumpsters and garbage cans?”

Tears formed in Savannah’s eyes and she looked at Abel. “Sometimes,” she said thickly. “But

most of the time he tried-”

“And isn’t it because you had to dig through the trash for food,” Tate interrupted, “that you were

punctured with a dirty needle and infected with HIV? An incurable, and ultimately fatal disease?”

Cole shoved his hands through his hair. “Let me kill the motherfucker,” he whispered tightly.
“We could make a night of it,” Gabe murmured, breath pushing through his nostrils. His fingers

were tense against Cole’s back, squeezing his muscles through his shirt.

Abel suffered enough guilt all on his own for Savannah’s condition – he didn’t need this bastard

spinning it to look as if he’d had no regard whatsoever for his little sister.

“So in truth,” Tate said, “your brother, in fact, took your life...rather than preserving it.”
Shaking her head, tears slid down Savannah’s cheeks. “No...that isn’t true.”
Tate moved closer, his tone suddenly gentle again. “You don’t owe it to him to protect him. He

didn’t protect you. His negligence stole your future.” He paused briefly as Savannah stared at him, his
words visibly wounding her; she loved Abel more than anyone. To hear this man stand there and
imply that Abel had treated her life carelessly was clearly breaking her heart. “Now take a moment
and think about it,” he spoke low, focused. “Isn’t it possible that these alleged memories concerning
Craig Grant, are in fact your brother’s supposed recollection of the events – relayed to you? Because
you were, indeed, too young to truly remember what, exactly, happened back at the orphanage?”

Cole straightened and leaned back, lips tight with a scowl. “What the fuck is he talking about?” he

growled, “Ten years old isn’t all that young. I remember plenty from that age.”

“I don’t know,” Gabe murmured. “The guy seems to be grasping at straws.”
Cole’s stare shifted to Abel who looked physically beaten by Tate’s accusations and

implications. The boy wiped discreetly at his eyes.

“That fucker,” Cole whispered thickly, wanting to hold Abel, comfort him. Beside Cole, Devlin

stared at the back of Abel’s head as he leaned forward, hands clasped and pressed to his lips. Tears
swam in the doctor’s eyes. His direct connection to Craig continued to leave him drowning in guilt –
as if simply being related to the man made him guilty by association. Cole squeezed the man’s
shoulder affectionately. When Devlin glanced at him, Cole leaned closer. “The bastard is just
blowing smoke,” Cole told him. “I think he knows he’s fighting a losing battle, and he’s just trying to
go out with a few points on his side of the scoreboard.”

Shaking his head, Devlin pressed his lips tight. “I hate that he’s trying to make Savannah doubt

Abel’s love for her. And that he tried to fuck with Abel’s mind and make him think that all his
memories were fabricated. My brother...” he faltered then whispered, “Craig did those things to Abel.
And it pisses me off that Tate made Abel doubt – even or just a moment – that he was remembering it
right. As if...as if it was Abel’s fault.”

Cole wrapped his arm around Devlin’s shoulder. “Hang in there, doc. After all the shit we’ve

been through lately...” he smiled and planted a light kiss on his cheek, “one little piss ant prosecutor
isn’t going to take us down.”

***

Carl absently stroked the short, dark hairs at the nape of Max’s neck, his fingers playing through the
tips as Max turned into his touch just a little – but enough to twist up Horatio’s heart into all kinds of
knots. He remembered too vividly how it felt to be the one administering all the little touches, and the
thrill it had given him when Max responded with smiles and soft moans...which usually ended with
them making love.

Stop looking, Horatio berated himself and jerked his eyes off Max and Carl, and re-focused his

full attention on the trial itself. Why was it upsetting him so much – when just a very short while ago
he had been fucking Seth in his bedroom? And crying out Max’s name.

Horatio closed his eyes and hung his head. How could he do that to Seth? And how could he sit

here longing for Max when Seth was waiting for him back at the penthouse? You are a total shit,
Horatio Kaplan. You don’t deserve Seth.

It was the truth and he knew it. Horatio sighed and opened his eyes – and caught Max casting him

a quick, concerned glance. Their encounters today had been far too intense and emotional. Horatio

was still baffled by his question to Max earlier; do you still love me? Why had he asked it? Wasn’t it
irrelevant at this point? Yet he’d told Max that it mattered.

He pulled his eyes from Max’s gaze. What he saw in the man’s eyes left him in turmoil. What

would happen if he just told Max the truth? A quiet fear seeped into him as his thoughts from earlier
came back to him; what if Max wasn’t capable of shifting back to his previous frame of mind
concerning Horatio? What if that part of him really was gone for good? Horatio couldn’t handle
having Max know the truth – and still reject him.

So...are you not telling him because you’ve convinced yourself it’s the right thing to do? Or

because you’re afraid he will still turn you away?

How “noble” were his reasons?

Chapter 7

“Tears Of Glass”

It felt as if someone had taken a sledgehammer and smashed his heart, busting through his chest wall
with violent force. Each inhale of air was difficult and painful and the pressure inside Abel continued
to build. Watching Savannah sit up there, tears in her eyes and rolling down her cheeks, being forced
to listen to Tate twist and mangle everything Abel had ever done for her to keep her safe – it was
killing him. But he realized that some of the pain was caused by the reality that not “all” of what Tate
said was untrue. Abel should have gotten her off the streets, taken her to the shelters. It was his fault
that she was sick. She should have never been forced to rifle through fucking garbage in search of
food.

His face pinched and he squeezed his eyes shut as his throat closed. He ducked his head and

covered his eyes with his hand, crying softly. Behind him, he could hear Devlin’s quiet sobs and
knew that the man longed to hold him as close and tight as Abel longed for him to.

A hand reached out and squeezed his shoulder and he recognized Cole’s touch instantly. “Don’t,

babe. Don’t cry,” Cole spoke low, thick with emotion. But there was also an edge of rage in his voice
that Abel was fully aware was directed at Tate. “Don’t listen to him. He’s full of shit. And Savannah
knows it too.”

Abel’s free hand snaked up over his shoulder and covered Cole’s hand, taking comfort in his

touch. The man was a rock – him and Gabe both. Just having them in the courtroom made him feel
safe. And his love for them grew by leaps and bounds as they took care to comfort and encourage
Devlin as well. In no way would they allow Devlin to feel guilt for his brother’s brutal acts.

Cole shifted quietly and leaned forward across the short barrier, wrapping his arm gently around

Abel’s neck. He hugged him as tightly as he could from his awkward position and kissed his neck,
then whispered, “It’ll all be over soon, baby. Until then, I’m right here with you, every step of the
way. We all are.” He pressed his lips to Abel’s ear as Abel gripped his strong forearm and cried
against his warm skin. “I love you, Abel. Everything’s gonna be okay, babe. I promise.”

When Cole finally released him – with reluctance – and slid back into his seat, Abel wanted to

beg him to come back, hold him again, and not let go until the entire trial as over.

***

“There’s some papers in my safe...I need you to take them and shred them for me.”

Seth took the large manila envelope from the safe then closed and locked it. The envelope was

sealed; Horatio had meant for him to shred the papers without seeing them, without knowing the
importance of the secret they contained. But it was too late for that; Seth already knew – though in his
heart he wished he didn’t. Yet even without having a glimpse of this new reality...Seth couldn’t have
denied the anguish within Horatio, his deep and all-consuming love for Max.

“But he wants to move on,” Seth whispered. The envelope squeezed between his fingertips as he

stood over the paper shredder as Horatio had done just a few days ago. If he truly wished to move
on...he would have shredded the documents himself. But he can’t. So what does that tell you?

phnx

He stared blankly at the envelope, his heart aching, pounding. Try as he might, Horatio wasn’t

able to love Seth, not deep in his heart. He cared for Seth, there was no doubt about that. The fact that

he hadn’t taken the documents and run straight to Max told Seth just how much Horatio cared for him.
He doesn’t want to hurt you by breaking his promise. He told you it was safe to love him. Now he’s
willing to suffer, rather than break your heart.

“Too late,” Seth said quietly and walked around Horatio’s desk, sitting down in his chair. “But it

isn’t your fault.” He plucked a letter opener from the top shallow drawer and slit open the envelope.
Withdrawing the contents, he laid them on the desk. Along with the documents was the cover letter
sent over from his office by his assistant. Seth picked up the page.

Mr. Kaplan,
These documents were faxed to your office on Friday
following a phone call from one Mr. Darius Lindstrom.
He has requested a private meeting with you to discuss
the documents. His contact information is listed below.
A phone number, fax number, email and physical address had been provided. Had Horatio copied

this information elsewhere? Or was he actually intent on destroying it all? Seth left the papers on the
desk and took the manila envelope and shredded it. There was no way in hell he was going to
eradicate the most important information Horatio had ever received in his life, but he had to make him
think he had. If he saw the documents were gone from his safe but found no evidence of them being
destroyed, he would know Seth had looked at them and kept them. And he couldn’t know that. Not yet
anyway.

In the bedroom, Seth concealed the original documents in his bag with the photo copies then sat

down on Horatio’s side of the bed and picked up the framed photo of Horatio and Max in their teen
years. He traced a fingertip over Horatio’s face; he had told Seth he was sixteen in that picture, and
Max eighteen. There was no denying the love between them. And that same love remained, to this
day, when they looked at one another.

Seth’s throat squeezed and the photo blurred. When they had been back at the villa, Seth had

hoped that the day would come when Horatio might look at him the way he was looking at Max in this
picture. He had had boyfriends, went on plenty of dates, but he had never come close to seeing that
special look in anyone’s eyes. And though he knew he was special to Horatio on one level, it wasn’t
that level. That look was reserved for Max alone, and always would be.

He wiped his eyes and tried to swallow past the lump in his throat. “I won’t let you throw it all

away because of me,” he whispered thickly. “Not when you’re this close.” His lips tightened and
fresh tears rose as he replaced the photo on the stand. “You’re a prince among men, Horatio Kaplan.
And every prince deserves his fairytale.”

***

“Isn’t it possible,” Tate continued to press the question, “that your memories of that incident aren’t
really your memories at all?”

Savannah shook her head slowly. “I remember it,” she choked softly.
“Do you remember Craig Grant raping your brother?” Tate went on. “Or do you remember your

brother telling you he did?”

“Objection.” Jensen stood and seemed weary with the prosecutor’s questioning. “She has already

answered his question.”

“Sustained,” the judge said and looked at Tate. “Move on to another question, or release the

witness.”

Tate nodded and went silent a moment, then asked, “Were you witness to any of the other alleged

assaults on your brother? He claims to have been raped repeatedly for the two years following that
incident in your room.”

Sliding the back of her hand across her wet cheek, Savannah shook her head slowly. “I didn’t

know it was happening. He didn’t tell me any of it until...after.”

“After?”
“After we left the orphanage.”
“And when your brother took you and ran away from the orphanage,” Tate asked, “did you know

he had killed a man?”

Savannah nodded. “Yes.”
“Did you see him kill Craig Grant?”
“No,” Savannah said.
“Then how did you know?” Tate asked.
Max watched the young girl shift her eyes to Abel, hurt in her wet eyes as if she were betraying

him somehow by answering Tate’s questions. “He...he had blood on him when he came to my room to
get me.”

“How did he act?”
“He was crying,” Savannah’s voice trembled. “Really hard. And shaking real bad. He said we

had to get out of there right then.”

“Did you ask him about the blood? Why he was crying?”
Savannah nodded, tears rolling down her cheeks. Max looked at Abel and the boy was leaning on

the table, face buried in his hands, body shuddering. God, will this fucking day ever end?

“What did your brother tell you?”
“He...he said that he stopped Craig; that he had to. He told me Craig had been hurting him for a

long time.”

Max swallowed thickly, the courtroom distorting as his tears rose up. He wanted to take Savannah

off the stand, out of this place, and make it possible for her to never think of that nightmare again. Just
let it finally die, for both her and Abel. His gaze shifted to Devlin Grant. And for the doctor, too.

“So what you’re saying,” Tate clarified, “is that the only proof you have of your brother’s

prolonged assault...is his own word?”

The girl trembled. “Abel was telling the truth.”
“Please answer the question,” Tate said. “Is your brother’s word your only proof that Craig Grant

was assaulting him?”

Savannah squeezed her arms around her waist, tears flowing harder. “He doesn’t lie.”
A slight edge cracked Tate’s voice. “Answer the question.”
Savannah shot a helpless look at Abel. The boy raised his head, face wet. He gave her a slight

nod to answer the question. She lowered her eyes to her lap, fresh tears slipping free. “Yes,” she
choked softly.

“And isn’t it possible that he was lying about Craig Grant raping him? That he could have just as

well taken his life in a fit of jealous rage?”

“No!” Savannah cried suddenly. “He didn’t like Craig! He wasn’t lying!”
Tate looked at her dryly. “As far as you know.” He turned his back to the witness stand and

walked back to his table. “No more questions.”

***

Cole was off the bench and scooping Savannah into his arms the instant she stepped through the gate.
Gabe was only seconds behind him as they enveloped her in their embrace. She was still shaking and
crying, much like Abel when he’d come off the stand. As Cole ducked his head and whispered softly
to her, Gabe’s eyes slid over Bronson Tate. The man cast them a quick, disinterested glance. Or it
began as disinterested, until Gabe’s steely stare seized the man’s full attention.

Tate shifted uneasily in his chair and looked away with an air of dismissal. Go on, motherfucker,

Gabe thought with cool calmness, don’t worry yourself about us. We’re no threat – “as far as you
know”.

Gabe dipped his head and kissed Savannah’s hair then met Cole’s gaze. “We have a promise to

keep.”

Chapter 8

“Locked In”

The courtroom quickly became a hustle and bustle of bodies filing towards the door, a cacophony of
voices commenting on the proceedings, after the trial was adjourned until the following day. Horatio
stood slowly but remained out of the aisle and out of the way of the flow of human traffic as he
watched the group he would never be a part of. Like the guardian angels they were, Cole and Gabe
gathered Savannah, Abel and Devlin into their protective circle as Max and the others approached,
administering hugs, kisses and words of comfort to their wounded loved ones. Horatio longed to go to
Abel and hold him – and beg his forgiveness for the mistake he had made in urging the boy to take his
case to court. But rather than forge his way through the wall of bodies around Abel, and risk getting
too close to Max as well, Horatio slipped into the aisle and followed the other trial observers out the
door.

Why was he even here? Abel didn’t “really” need him. The boy had plenty of family to look after

him, comfort him. So Horatio was forced to reconsider why he was truly hanging around. Was he
using the trial as a way to stall his retreat overseas? He could tell himself all he wanted that he was
ready to leave, to take that step and just go away for good. But he knew it was bullshit. The thought of
leaving Max behind hurt like hell, and each time he considered it, a sharp pain stabbed through his
chest and filled him with nausea. Especially now, with the knowledge of the truth permeating his
heart. Telling Seth to shred the documents had been a futile move; the elimination of the “proof”
didn’t erase it from Horatio’s mind or heart. He still knew. Had he thought the destruction of the
papers would somehow bring on a magical memory loss? Did he want to forget this new truth? Or
had he told Seth to shred the envelope in an attempt to convince himself that he was ready to let go for
real? When in reality – all he would have to do was contact his office to receive new copies of the
documents and Darius Lindstrom’s contact information?

Darius Lindstrom. The cover letter from his assistant had given no indication who the man was. It

hadn’t been his name on any of the documents. So who the fuck was he and why was he sending
Horatio the documentation of Max’s birth records?

And why, Horatio wondered, had he been so quick to destroy the papers before even learning the

answers to these questions?

You’re afraid it’s all a mistake. That “your” Max isn’t really the Max whose name is recorded

on those documents. You’re scared shitless that nothing has changed at all...and you and Max still
share the same blood.

***

It was unsettling to Max that his first instinct was to run after Horatio whenever the man walked
away. For being the one who consistently insisted he and Horatio needed to just face reality and not
dwell on the past or past feelings – it seemed that today he was the one continually seeking out
Horatio, initiating conversation, asking the man what was wrong when he knew damn well what was
“wrong”. And then when Horatio had tried to open up, Max had shut him down as he always did.

So this time, when Horatio walked out of the courtroom without a word to any of them, Max had

let him go. It hadn’t been easy; it was a battle to keep his feet rooted in place, but somehow he

managed it. And besides, how did it look to Carl? With Max running after Horatio every time he
turned around? How could he look Carl in the eye and tell him there was nothing for him to worry
about concerning Horatio? That there was nothing between Max and Horatio? There was something
between them; two broken hearts that were still bleeding, barely beating but still refusing to give up
and just die. How could he lie to Carl and tell him it was completely over with Horatio when he still
loved the man so much it was killing him inside? But he’d already insisted to Carl that he could let go
and fall for him, that it was safe. And Carl had let go. Max could feel it in the way the man made love
to him.

So why can’t you just accept Carl’s love and let Horatio go? No one expects you to stop loving

Horatio, first loves never die...but why can’t you move on when you know there’s nothing there for
you?

Max wasn’t clear on the answer to that question.
About time Carl touched his arm, Max realized he was still staring at the courtroom doors where

Horatio had disappeared just minutes before. He jerked his eyes away, feeling the guilt of wanting to
go after Horatio...and once again love him, for real.

But rather than give in to the impossible fantasy, Max slipped his arm around Carl’s waist and

flattened his palm against his lower back. “We should go let Dane and Angel know the trial is over
for today, and then...” he leaned close and kissed Carl’s ear. “Then go back to your place and
hopefully come up with something to help us forget about this whole fucking ordeal.”

Carl wrapped Max in his arms and held him tight. “I’m sure we can think of something.”

***

“After watching this,” Caleb walked beside Samuel as they made their way out of the courtroom with
the others, “I have to say, I’m kind of dreading going back to court for Nick’s trial. And Christian,”
Caleb shook his head. “I wonder what kind of shit is going to be thrown at him. I mean, his stepdad
was a cop. That worked against him the first time around. Do you think it’ll still carry as much weight
during the appeal?”

“The prosecution will try to use it to their advantage,” Samuel nodded. “I mean, no one wants to

believe that those who are sworn to protect and serve the public can actually be more of a menace to
society than an asset. For a large portion of society, it’s ingrained in them to believe the cops are the
good guys – period. It’s hard for those people to get around that block in their thinking pattern which
is surely why a lot of cops get away with ugly acts. Jurors just can’t buy into them being the guilty
party.”

Caleb snorted. “I sure as hell ain’t one of them. The cops involved with Nick’s trial were pricks.”
“Yeah,” Samuel murmured and took Caleb’s hand, squeezing affectionately. “I’m not a huge cop

fan myself.” He chuckled and shrugged. “Of course, the ones I had run-ins with were probably
justified in their attitudes towards me. For the most part, I was the one being the prick.” He looked at
Caleb and grinned, “I know that must be impossible for you to believe about your perfect boyfriend,
but...”

“Mmm...” Caleb’s face scrunched with a smirk. “Not so impossible.”
“Hey.” Samuel bumped him with his shoulder and chuckled. “What happened to love is blind?”
“Aww,” Caleb grinned and hugged his arm, kissing his shoulder. “It’s your flaws that make you

charming and hot.”

Samuel scowled. “My flaws, huh?” He looked Caleb over. “And I suppose you’re little Mr.

Perfect?”

“Aren’t I?” Caleb wriggled his eyebrows. “That’s what you tell me every night when you get two

handfuls of my sweet ass.” He kissed his neck. “Just taking your word for it, baby.”

Rolling his eyes, Samuel groaned and laughed, “Fuck. Guess I’m going to have to limit my

praises.”

“As if,” Caleb chuffed. “All I have to do is get naked and you’re worshipping me like I’m a Greek

god or something.”

“Or something is right,” Samuel cast him a sidelong glance then laughed.
“Just wait,” Caleb murmured. “When we get home, I’ll prove that you just fall to your knees the

instant I bare all.”

“Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Samuel smirked. “Me on my knees before you?”
Caleb shrugged and smiled. “It does make for an incredible view from above.”
“Shit,” Samuel laughed and released his hand, wrapping his arm around Caleb’s shoulder. He

kissed his cheek with a hard smack. “I admit it right now – you are perfect.”

“But I still get to prove it when we get home, right?” Caleb inquired with hopeful eagerness.
Samuel kissed him again, this time on the mouth. “Oh hell yes, baby.”

***

When the restroom door opened as he stood at the sink, hands under the faucet, Bronson Tate didn’t
bother to look up, his mind already working ahead to tomorrow’s proceedings. Next on the stand
would be Doctor Devlin Grant; brother of Craig Grant. He suspected the good doctor would be an
easy nut to crack. Bronson had done his research. Devlin Grant had viewed his brother as a saint, and
o nl y after getting hooked up with Abel Sims did he start changing his story, conveniently
“remembering” things about his brother that he had supposedly previously suppressed. Bronson’s
deduction was that the guy had the irresistible urge to fuck the kid and needed a clear conscience to
do so. In believing his brother was indeed guilty of rape, and in turn rectifying Abel of his actions –
he could nail the young man without the qualms of a nagging conscience.

How would it look to the upstanding folks on the jury? This “respectable” doctor getting involved

with a gay male stripper who was barely out of high school? A stripper who had turned out to be his
brother’s killer? Bronson could put a very ugly spin on that aspect and expose the doctor’s
“addiction” to adult entertainment. Whether or not he actually had said addiction – who the hell
knew? But considering that nearly all those there for his support were gay male strippers or
acquaintances of such, he didn’t foresee any difficulty in tarnishing the man’s reputation. And actual
“facts” were often irrelevant once a witness’ credibility was destroyed.

Bronson turned off the faucet and reached for a towel from the dispenser when a low click of the

door lock froze his hand in midair and a low voice caused his pulse to drop and breath to catch.

“Was that fun for you?” The deep male voice vibrated through Bronson, rattling him to the core.

“Making a little girl cry?”

He raised his head slowly and his reflection was caught by the same steely eyes that had trapped

him back in the courtroom. Except this time – there were two pairs staring him down.

They can’t be this stupid, he thought uneasily, that they think they could get away with this.

Chapter 9

“Untouchable”

Alone in a confined space with him and Cole – trapped – Bronson Tate wasn’t as quick to “dismiss”
them as he had been in the courtroom where he had known he was safe. It would be foolish to actually
threaten or assault the man, and neither Gabe nor Cole planned to do anything that would get their
asses in a sling. But Tate didn’t have to know they were just trying to scare him. It was good if he
believed they were just bold enough to do more.

“I understand you young men being upset,” Tate spoke with an even tone, though a tremor lurked

just under the surface. “But this is a court of law, and the purpose of a trial is to expose the truth. And
to do so, sometimes we have to do things we don’t particularly enjoy.” He hooked his finger in the
collar of his shirt and tugged absently. “So to answer your question – no, it wasn’t fun for me to make
Savannah Sims cry. Unfortunately, the line of questioning was necessary.”

Cole leaned against the door, hands behind his back clasping the door handle. Gabe stepped over

to the row of sinks, keeping just enough distance from the man to prevent an out-and-out threatening
demeanor. “In my humble opinion,” Gabe said quietly, “I happen to think you enjoyed it very much.
Just as you enjoyed breaking Abel down.”

“Trials can be traumatic,” Tate spoke slowly, controlled as if Gabe were a dangerous animal and

speaking calmly might soothe him. “For everyone.”

“Everyone?” Cole murmured without budging from the door. “You don’t look back traumatized

to me. Abel and Savannah? They’ve been through hell. And you’re making it worse.”

“I’m doing my job,” Tate stated. “It’s the name of the game.”
“Game?” Gabe slid one eyebrow up slowly. “This isn’t a fucking game. Those are real lives

you’re fucking with in there. Kids who have a hell of a lot of people who love them and would do
anything to protect them from any further harm than they’ve already endured.”

Tate glanced at Cole then back to Gabe. “Are you trying to make some kind of veiled threat

against me?”

A smile tweaked the corner of Gabe’s mouth; after all he’d just gone through with Quint and

O’Brian, he hadn’t realized the level of aggression that had welled up within him. He was so fucking
sick of parasites. And this man before him was a parasite of the worst kind. It was Cole’s presence
alone that prevented him from beating the motherfucker within an inch of his life, without regard to the
consequences.

“I bet you’d like that, huh?” Gabe smiled. “For us to threaten you? Then you could wave your

little wand and have our asses in jail before we knew what hit us? But trust me, if I was going to risk
jail...it wouldn’t be over a mere threat.” His smile slowly faded and eyes hardened, but he said
nothing as he just stared at the man.

Tate’s cool exterior cracked a little more beneath Gabe’s unwavering scrutiny. He shifted

anxiously, eyes darting to the door. “Fine,” he said with a slight rasp to his voice and stepped toward
the door. “Then I’ll be going. I have a lot of work to do.”

“I bet you do,” Cole drawled and made no move to step aside out of the man’s way. Tate

hesitated. “So what’s next? An all-out attack on Devlin Grant? He is the next one in line for the hot
seat, isn’t that right? That man’s been through hell also, discovering his brother was a monster.”

“You’re not intimidating me,” Tate murmured, “if that was your intention. I will do my job to the

best of my ability and I refuse to be swayed by common thug tactics.” The uneasy look in his eyes
contradicted the conviction of his words; the fucker was getting scared.

“Not trying to intimidate,” Cole said casually. “We’re just having ourselves a little friendly chat.”
Tate was clearly unconvinced. “There are better places to chat than a public restroom.”
Glancing at Cole, Gabe’s smile resurfaced. “Works for us.” He looked at Tate and slowly twisted

his head, flexing his neck muscles, causing a slight cracking of his neck. “You’re not afraid to be in
here with us, are you?”

Tate’s throat worked as he swallowed with a bit of labor. “You do realize how futile it is try this

with a criminal attorney? I’ve stood face to face with the worst of humanity.”

His eyes narrowing slightly, Gabe murmured, “Did you stand face to face with them...alone? Or

merely in the safety of the courtroom?”

Tate’s face fell just enough to afford Gabe the answer he was looking for. Drawing a deep breath,

Tate nodded at the door. “I’m leaving.” But he remained motionless as Cole continued to lean on the
door. “Get out of my way.” Cole just gazed at him. “Holding someone against their will, regardless of
the situation, is considered abduction. Are you really prepared to go to prison over this?”

Cole shifted but didn’t move. “First of all, I would go to hell to protect my own. And second,” he

shrugged. “Who’s holding you against your will?”

“Then open the door,” Tate glanced uneasily between Cole and Gabe.
“Open it yourself,” Gabe said dully and leaned against the row of sinks.
Tate’s jaw tightened, his face pinching. “You have no idea who you’re dealing with. You do not

want to fuck with me.”

“Oh I agree,” Gabe smiled dryly. “You’re definitely not our type.”
“Do you not get it that I am one of the most high-powered prosecutors in the state?” Tate pushed

conviction into his voice, but it lacked strength. Now the man was trying to intimidate them. “What is
it that you think you can do to me, really?” He smiled but it didn’t quite make it up to his eyes, which
continued to resonate uncertainty and just enough fear to cause a pleasant tickle in Gabe’s gut.
“Unless you’re prepared to spend the rest of your lives in prison...I am untouchable.”

Nodding slowly, Gabe lowered his eyes to the floor. “What was the name of that attorney?” he

asked Cole casually. “You know, the one who fucked over Caleb Dean?” His brow pinched and he
shook his head.

“Coulson,” Cole said quietly. “Pretty sure his name was Coulson. Brock Coulson.”
“Yeah,” Gabe raised his head. “Now that guy was one badass attorney.” He looked at Tate. “Did

you know him?”

Visible anxiety gripped the man. “Why do you ask?”
“Oh, no reason really,” Gabe said and dropped his gaze to the floor again. “I’m just pretty sure he

thought he was untouchable as well.” He gave another shake of his head. “Damn shame what
happened to him. That little operation had to have had serious repercussions on his love life.” He
raised his eyes to Cole, his lips twitching. “Wouldn’t you say?”

“Most certainly.”
“They, uh...” Gabe’s brow furrowed in thought. “They never did catch his assailants, did they?”
“Not to my knowledge,” Cole confirmed.
Gabe clucked his tongue. “One wouldn’t think that such a thing could happen to such a prominent

attorney – without any consequences. Boggles the mind.”

“Open the door,” Tate whispered thickly.

A light sheen glazed the man’s eyes; every attorney in the city knew what had happened to Brock

Coulson. It had been major news. And on more than one occasion, Coulson’s abusers were referred
to as “ghosts”. Everyone from the club with any connection to Caleb had had a solid alibi. There had
been nothing to raise suspicion at that end. Mister “big shot, I’m the shit” attorney had gotten what
was coming to him – and not a single arrest had been made.

No one was “untouchable”.
And mention of Brock Coulson reminded Bronson Tate of that unpleasant little fact.
Cole’s gaze trailed down Tate’s body and lingered briefly at his crotch then crawled back up to

his face. “So tell us, Mr. Prosecutor,” he murmured, “how’s your love life?”

The man’s throat worked. “Open the fucking door.” His composure was fast slipping away.
Chuckling, Cole unlocked the door and shifted away, stepping toward Gabe. He gestured to Tate.

“Door’s open.”

A visible tremor swept through the attorney and he moved quickly to the door, jerked it open and

hurried out. The heavy door closed slowly behind him, the latch catching with a dull clink. Gabe
looked at Cole. “That was fun,” he smiled, then shrugged, “But he didn’t cry.”

A smirk quirked Cole’s lips. “No, but I think he might have shit himself.”
“Even better,” Gabe quipped then pushed off the sink and stepped over to the door, locking it

again. When he turned around, Cole gave him an inquisitive look. Gabe smiled as his eyes roamed
over Cole’s body. Good God, he was so damn horny for the man. “You’re so fucking sexy when
you’re playing the bad guy.” He moved closer and pinned Cole against a sink with his body. “The
thought of you beating that fucker down...” he groaned and grabbed Cole’s neck with his teeth, hands
squeezing his waist. “Got me so hot and horny.”

Cole grinned and grabbed Gabe’s ass, pulling him hard against his crotch. “And you, baby, give

me the chills.” He kissed Gabe’s shoulder and rolled his hips against his body. “And that makes me
want to fuck you senseless.”

Dragging his mouth up the side of Cole’s neck, Gabe laid kisses along his jawline and finally took

possession of his mouth, kissing him hard, urgent. His body burned with need; he hadn’t been with
Cole since before Quint’s intervention fucked them up royally. And it would be in making love again
that he would know for sure they were all right, that nothing between them had been “permanently”
damaged. And Gabe needed to be convinced of that.

***

The boy sat at a small table in the back of the restaurant near the jukebox where a tender country love
song drifted out of the speakers. The look in Maddy’s eyes as he stared, unseeing, at some invisible
spot on the wall was one Max was well familiar with. He didn’t have to step inside the kid’s heart to
know what was going on in there. Max recalled too vividly both the ache and excitement of falling in
love for the first time. And it wasn’t something that faded over time. Especially the ache.

“Maddy?” Max approached the table.
The boy looked up quickly, startled. “Max.” He glanced past him then stood. “Is Savannah with

you?” Deep concern reflected in Maddy’s dark eyes and Max felt compelled to hug him, but
refrained.

“No,” he said gently. “She’s with Abel and Devlin, and I think they’re going to head home. It’s

been a rough day for all of them.”

Maddy nodded but seemed dejected that he wouldn’t be able to talk to Savannah again that day.

“Is she...is she okay?” he asked quietly. “What happened in court?”

“Like I said,” Max wrapped his arm around Maddy’s shoulder. “It was rough. But Savannah is

strong. She’ll be okay.”

Falling silent, Maddy leaned against Max as Max tightened his embrace. Max’s throat knotted and

he wanted to cry, though he wasn’t sure why exactly. Perhaps it was just everything that the day had
brought down on them hitting him at once.

“Why didn’t she want me there?” Maddy whispered, a sudden thickness in his voice. “Did she

think I would look at her different if I heard what she’d went through?” He swallowed thick and
looked up at Max, tears in his eyes. “I wouldn’t. I went through the same kind of stuff. I wouldn’t think
bad of her.”

Max wrapped him in both arms and held him tight. “I know that, son,” he murmured against his

hair. “And I’m pretty sure Savannah knows it too. It’s just that...some things are hard to talk about in
front of the one that you...” he caught himself before the word ‘love’ slipped out. It wasn’t his place to
make that presumption even though it was clear that was where the two kids were headed. But again,
that was something Savannah needed to tell Maddy herself. “The one that you care about,” he
finished. Maybe that was still saying too much, but it was true and he felt it was something Maddy
needed to hear just then.

Chapter 10

“Still Here With You”

Gabe’s ass muscles tightened and flexed beneath Cole’s stiff fingertips as he shoved his hands down
inside the back of his pants. “Fuck,” Cole groaned when Gabe pushed hard against him, grinding
crotches. Gabe tugged Cole’s shirt loose from the waistband of his pants and worked his hands
underneath, raking his nails up and down Cole’s back with intensity, his teeth pulling at Cole’s neck.
“Shit,” Cole trembled and gripped Gabe’s ass more fiercely. He wanted inside the man so damn bad
that the ache in his groin was maddening.

“Get naked,” Gabe panted and grappled with the buttons of Cole’s shirt, finally stripping it off

him. His mouth went straight to Cole’s chest, sucking, biting. One hand palmed Cole’s pec muscle as
the other palmed his hard crotch.

“Uhh!” Cole gasped. “Fuck, baby...”
“That’s my intention,” Gabe puffed then dragged his tongue down Cole’s stomach as he dropped

to his knees before him and hurriedly opened his pants.

Cole gripped the edge of the sink counter, chest heaving as his breath rushed up and down his

throat. “Gabe...” he shuddered, “are you sure you’re ready for all this? You just got out of the
hospital.”

Cole’s pants were dragged down his thighs, releasing his hard cock. “Don’t worry about me,”

Gabe rasped as his hands closed around Cole’s rigid shaft and stroked fervently. “I’ll push through
the pain.” He dropped his mouth on Cole’s dick and took him in to the hilt.

“Fuck!” Cole’s hips jerked and he squeezed the counter then one hand let go and he grabbed the

back of Gabe’s head as the man sucked him hungrily. “Oh god...oh fuuuck...” Cole fucked his tight, hot
mouth and struggled to control his overwhelming urge to shove Gabe to the floor and face fuck him
until he spilled down his throat. “Oh fuck yes! Suck me, baby! Uuhh! God! You suck cock so good!”

Gabe pulled Cole’s pants further down his legs then rubbed back up his bare thighs and around to

his ass. Cole arched away from the counter to allow Gabe more room to handle his ass cheeks. The
motion shoved his cock deeper into Gabe’s throat and the man took him eagerly and without
resistance, not missing a beat as his fingers slipped between Cole’s cheeks.

“Fuck, baby...” Cole’s head tilted back and he bit his lower lip, eyes tight as Gabe shoved one,

then two digits inside him, pumping him deep and hard as his slick, hot mouth slipped up and down
Cole’s pulsing member. “Holy fuck...yes...”

Cole was on the edge of spinning Gabe around, dropping his pants and plunging into him, when a

bit of cold reality punched through the sexual haze clouding his mind; he couldn’t fuck Gabe, not yet.
Not until he got checked out and knew for sure he was clean. He was supposed to have that done
tonight, when Devlin went on shift, but he suspected Devlin might not be going back to the hospital at
all that night.

“Gabe...” Cole panted and with great reluctance grabbed Gabe’s head and pulled the man off him.

“Maybe...maybe we should wait.”

Crawling to his feet, Gabe crushed him against the counter, kissing him fiercely. “You’re fucking

with me, right?” he rasped, his body already moving against Cole seductively. His mouth went to
Cole’s neck again and – fuck – it felt so good when he sucked his skin like that. Gabe dropped his

hand and firmly stroked Cole’s cock. “Fuck, baby, I need this thing inside me, fucking me senseless
like you said.”

I need that too, Cole bit back the whimper. How the hell was he going to put Gabe off without

just telling him the truth? And why couldn’t he tell him? Gabe knew he had been with other men. Still,
Cole couldn’t bring himself to tell him he’d had “unprotected” sex; somehow it felt like the ultimate
betrayal. But he had to tell him something.

“Gabe.” He gripped Gabe’s arms and thrilled to the strength in them, the straining, flexing force of

the muscles in his right arm as he pumped Cole vigorously. Cole gritted his teeth against the sheer
pleasure of the man’s intense touch, not wanting him to stop but yet needing him to.

“Stop talking,” Gabe growled and crushed his mouth with a hard kiss, thrusting his tongue in deep.

His hand squeezed a fraction tighter around Cole’s shaft and continued to stroke with purpose.

Ah fuck! Cole panted and groaned, unable to stop his hips from thrusting against Gabe’s hand

action, pumping himself through the man’s fist.

“You need to fuck me now,” Gabe gasped into Cole’s mouth. He stepped back and whipped off

his shirt then yanked open the snap of his pants and jerked the zipper down. His need for Cole pushed
and strained against the confines of his briefs. Rather than immediately loose himself, as Cole had
expected, he reached into his back pocket and tugged out his wallet, dug inside and produced a
condom packet. “I need you to wear this.” He didn’t wait for a reply as he ripped it open with his
teeth, plucked out the contraceptive and let the empty pack drop to the floor.

Cole’s pulse quickened for all new reasons; did Gabe somehow know, or possibly suspect, he’d

engaged in “raw” sex? “Gabe...” he swallowed hard. “I...”

“Listen,” Gabe said, unease in his voice, uncertainty in his eyes. “I hate having to bring this up

now, because the last thing I want to do is kill this mood, but,” his teeth raked across his lower lip.
“When O’Brian had me, he...” Gabe shook his head, eyes drifting from Cole’s face as if he couldn’t
bear to look him in the eye as he spoke his next words. “He...fucked me without protection. Who
knows how many guys he has nailed without wearing a condom.” He met Cole’s wide-eyed stare.
“Fuck, Cole, I just...I just don’t want to take the chance of giving you something. They tested me in the
hospital, but I haven’t received the results yet. But I...I should be getting them back soon.”

The shadow of shame in Gabe’s eyes was a hard slug to Cole’s gut. What Gabe had gone through

hadn’t been his fault. He hadn’t been given a choice. None of it was Gabe’s fault. But Cole was to
blame for his own uncertainties concerning his health. He had chosen not to wear a condom with
Ryland.

“I should have talked to you about this sooner,” Gabe said, “instead of waiting till a time like this.

Fuck, I’m sorry. I ruined the mood...”

Cole grabbed his face and kissed him deeply then leaned back and indicated his nearly naked

body. “Baby, the mood is still very much...alive.” He smiled and wrapped his fist around his erect
member and stroked slowly. “You haven’t ruined a damn thing. So sheath me and let’s get this party
started.”

Genuine relief softened Gabe’s face and Cole felt the sudden urge to kick his own ass. On some

level, Gabe felt guilty for what had happened between them, when in reality the man had suffered to
protect Cole, and all of his family. Gabe wasn’t guilty of shit – he was a fucking hero.

Gabe’s nimble fingers applied the condom, his hands rubbing down Cole’s shaft. “Have I told you

how much I love your hands?” Cole moaned.

“Once or twice,” Gabe smiled and kissed him, again pushing his eager body against Cole.
Cole groaned and grabbed Gabe’s hips, spinning them both around. He turned Gabe so he was

facing the mirror then quickly shoved the man’s pants and briefs down his thighs. “Fuck, baby,” Cole
massaged his ass. “I’ve missed this.” He bent down and kissed Gabe’s cheeks, nipping the firm flesh.
“A lot.”

“Prove it,” Gabe’s breath was quick, erratic. He gripped the sink, arms straining, muscles

popping as he pushed back against Cole. “Come on, man, fuck me.”

With Gabe’s shirt off, Cole was afforded a clear view of the bandaged gunshot wound on Gabe’s

shoulder blade. Just a few centimeters lower and you would be alone in this life. His throat pinched
at the reality of how close he’d come to losing him, but he shoved the thought away as he coated his
cock with saliva then took hold of Gabe’s waist and entered him slowly.

Grunting with a note of frustration, Gabe reached back with one hand, clutched Cole’s ass and

pulled him forward hard, driving Cole inside him in one forceful thrust. “Fuck!” Gabe gasped loud.
“Yes! That’s what I’m talking about! Stop treating me like I’m made of fucking glass.” He grinned at
Cole in the mirror. “You ain’t gonna break me, baby.”

Cole smiled and squeezed his waist harder then pushed in deeper, pressing up snug against

Gabe’s ass as he rocked and circled his hips.

“Uh! Fuck!” Gabe’s body jerked when Cole’s cock began to massage his prostrate. “Oh my

fucking-Uuhh!”

Waves of static pleasure rushed through Cole as he bit his lower lip hard as his jaw clenched and

he pulled back, shoving in again just before he left Gabe’s body.

“Oh fuck yes!” Gabe yelled. “Do it to me, baby! Give it to me hard!”
Cole rubbed one hand up Gabe’s back and gripped his right shoulder for leverage, fingers digging

into the man’s thick trap muscle, then cut loose and fucked him with reckless abandon. His head
dropped back and his shouts matched Gabe’s as he drove himself into Gabe’s tight, velvet cavern
again and again. Their bodies collided with force and Gabe clutched the sink with both hands,
slamming himself back onto Cole, teeth clenched and lips peeled back as he growled and grunted and
cursed.

“Fuck! Gabe!” Cole’s words burst out of him erratic and uneven as sweat quickly laced his skin

and dripped from his face, splattering Gabe’s back. The man’s body grew hot and slick beneath his
hands. “Uh!” Cole shoved up harder against him, crushing Gabe against the sink, fucking him with
short, powerful rabbit-punch thrusts. “God! Fuck! I’m gonna come!”

“Fuck me, Cole! Oh my god! Make me come! Fuck me harder!”
Cole’s eyes locked tightly on Gabe’s reflection. The man’s face reddened with the force of their

fucking, veins swelling at his temples. Cole’s face was as intense and flushed, veins popping, sweat
dripping. “Ahh! Shit!” Cole gasped hard. “Oh fuck, baby! I can’t hold it! Uuhh!”

Gabe’s fist wrapped around his own cock and whipped up and down as his body arched and

twisted beneath the combination of Cole’s fucking and Gabe’s own mounting orgasm. “ Cole!” Gabe
choked on a wail, body locking up. A strangled cry exploded out of him as he shot his wad.
“Fuuuck!”

That was all it took and Cole was over the edge. His fingers gouged Gabe’s wet burning skin as

he fucked him wildly then yelled out his ecstasy as his body released and he unloaded, filling the
condom to capacity. His arms curled around Gabe’s waist and he clung to the man as he worked out
his orgasm before finally relaxing against his drenched back. He kissed his shoulder, the nape of his
neck, his dampened hair. “Fuck, baby, I love you,” he panted, body trembling. He slipped his hands
around and rubbed up Gabe’s chest, feeling the wild beat of his heart. His lips pressed against the
bandaged bullet wound and he hugged Gabe tight. “If I’d lost you,” he whispered, shaking. “I would

have died too.”

Gabe straightened up a little and covered Cole’s hands with his own. “I’m still here, babe,” he

said thickly.

“Thank God.” Cole kissed his shoulder again and squeezed his eyes shut. And he did – Thank

God – with every breath he took.

Chapter 11

“Anguish Of Love”

Abel was near the bottom of the concrete steps in front of the courthouse when he realized Savannah
was no longer at his side. He looked behind him and found her standing motionless and staring across
the street. Abel followed her eyes to where Dane, Angel and Maddy had emerged from the restaurant
and were approaching Dane’s car. Behind them were Max and Carl. Maddy glanced their way as he
opened the rear passenger door, looking at Savannah.

When Abel turned his attention back to his sister, the pain in her eyes burrowed into his heart and

tore it apart; she was falling in love and it was terrifying her. Though she rarely talked about it
openly, Devlin had told Abel the conversation he and Savannah had had while she was still in the
hospital. He had explained to Abel her fears that, because of her condition, she could never be in a
real relationship, could never really let someone love her, or love them in return. As if it would be
unfair to the boy who wanted to give her his heart.

Abel didn’t believe her situation was hopeless. He’d witnessed too many miracles to believe

there was anything that couldn’t be fixed. With that thought, he glanced quickly at Max who was
speaking to Dane and Angel. Abel believed that even Max and Horatio had a miracle coming to them.
The love they shared was too great to be dismissed indefinitely.

As Maddy drew his focus again, Abel looked at Savannah and started to climb the steps to where

she stood when he noticed Cole and Gabe walking out of the courthouse up above. He wasn’t sure
where they had disappeared to and usually didn’t make a habit of asking for details when they
suddenly went M.I.A. for a short while.

As soon as Cole was close enough, he wrapped his arm around Savannah’s shoulder and kissed

her head. “Maybe you should go talk to him,” he suggested gently as he glanced across the street. “He
looks like he wants you to.”

“I’ll talk to him later,” she whispered as her lower lip slipped in between her teeth. Her eyes

shimmered and Abel’s heart broke a little more.

Gabe descended the steps and let his arm curl loosely around Abel’s waist as he kissed the boy

on the cheek. “Come on,” he said softly, “I think you are all due for some R&R.”

Devlin waited at the car, leaning against the side. Though he had yet to take the stand, he already

looked as if he’d been through the wringer. Jensen had explained to them the line of attack Tate would
likely initiate with Devlin. The man was suffering enough; how much more damage would Tate bring
down on Devlin’s heart?

As if Abel’s thoughts had cued his appearance, Bronson Tate emerged from the courthouse and

descended the wide steps. His arm still lingering on Abel’s waist, Gabe turned slowly and watched
the man. The look in Gabe’s eyes sent a chill through Abel, but it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. He knew
that look. It emanated a ‘don’t fuck with our own’ warning. Abel instinctively leaned into Gabe’s
light embrace, warming to the safety of his presence.

Tate cast them a brief glance, but it was fleeting and lacked the menace Abel had felt in the

courtroom when under the man’s scrutiny. The prosecutor quickened his step as he moved on past
them, an unease in his eyes as they darted between Cole and Gabe before shifting away entirely.

“Yeah, scurry on out of here, motherfucker,” Gabe murmured. Abel didn’t miss his discreet

glance at Cole or the quick wink at Savannah – which was awarded a small smile from the girl.

What did you guys do? He didn’t voice the question as his own lips twitched with a smile; maybe

the less he knew...the better.

***

The apartment was quiet. No television running. No music playing. Total silence. Unease pinched
Horatio’s gut as he walked through the living room and to the hallway. He paused outside his open
office door, his gaze drifting to his safe; had Seth done as he’d asked? Remnants of the manila
envelope inside the paper shredder confirmed that he had. An unsettling emptiness hollowed out
Horatio’s heart. It wasn’t as if the information was gone for good, but the fact that he had tried to
erase it – if only symbolically – left him feeling dead inside. He had been waiting his whole life for
this miracle – only to grind it up and throw it away?

The “deafening” silence of the apartment grabbed his focus again and he left the office doorway

and walked down the hall toward the bedroom. An eerie sense of déjà vu came over him as he
recalled running up to Max’s room the day after his seventeenth birthday, only to find him gone.
Would Seth be gone as well? Was that why he had stayed behind? To take a discreet leave of
absence?

The thought of finding the bedroom empty caused an ache in Horatio’s throat, a tightness in his

chest; he didn’t want to be left behind again. To have it proven to him one more time that he was an
easy man to walk away from, that he wasn’t worth sticking around for.

That’s bullshit and you know it. You’re just feeling sorry for yourself . Maybe he was. He knew

he wasn’t being fair to Max or to Seth. He had felt the pain in Max as he had forced himself to let go
of his love for Horatio. He still felt it in the man to this very day. And Seth...if Seth had indeed left
him, it was Horatio’s own fault. He had sure as hell given the young man every reason to pack up and
walk away.

He stopped outside the bedroom door. Perhaps he was just having a pity party, but it all still hurt

like hell. And being left behind – even for understandable reasons – made him feel like he wasn’t
someone worth fighting for. He had been chasing after Max nearly all his life, and yet the man
continued to cut him loose time and again. His love for Horatio wasn’t enough to inspire Max to fight
the facts and just be with him anyway. And if Horatio was totally, painfully honest with
himself...maybe that was why he didn’t tell Max the truth about their situation.

He just wanted Max to love him enough to be with him regardless of everything else.
But Max wasn’t capable of that. He would never love Horatio “that” much.
Swallowing thickly, Horatio gripped the door knob and twisted; if Seth was gone...
The thought made it no further as the door swung quietly open and his eyes fell on the young man

asleep on the bed. He’s still here. He didn’t leave you. Tears rose up quickly and Horatio went to the
bed and sat down on the edge. He buried his face in his hands and cried softly.

Cried for Max because he had left Horatio that day so long ago.
And cried for Seth because he hadn’t left him today.
He felt the fingertips graze his back just seconds before Seth whispered, “Make love to me,

Horatio.” The bed shifted as the boy sat forward slowly and wrapped his arms around Horatio. His
warm lips touched Horatio’s ear, kissed him tenderly. “If you need me to be Max, if that will help
ease the hurt inside, then let me be him...for you.”

Horatio pulled him into his arms and buried his face in his neck, sobs shaking his body. “I don’t

want you to be Max,” he cried softly. “I just want you to be you.”

Seth slid his fingers through Horatio’s hair. “Why?” he whispered thickly.
Raising his head, Horatio kissed his face with tenderness. “Because Max left me,” he trembled.

“And you didn’t.”

Seth kissed his lips. “I told you I wouldn’t.”
Fresh tears pooled. “So did he.”
Kissing him again, Seth slowly stroked Horatio’s hair. It felt good, comforting. “He didn’t want

to,” Seth murmured. “He just didn’t have any choice. I know that you know that.” Seth’s eyes filled
and he touched his head to Horatio’s brow. “It broke his heart to break yours,” he whispered.

Horatio’s chin trembled. “How do you know that?”
“Because I heard it in his voice, saw it in his eyes...when he told me that leaving you behind was

the hardest thing he ever had to do.” Seth hugged him and whispered, “His heart never stopped
breaking for you, Horatio.”

***

Before heading back to Carl’s place, Max dropped by the club. Carl went to the bar to speak with
Riley while Max disappeared into his office.

“So how’s the trial going?” Riley asked. He popped the cap off a chilled bottle of beer and

handed it to Carl.

“Grueling,” Carl told him and downed a third of the bottle. “That fucking prosecutor is just

playing head games.” He raised his beer and pointed at Riley. “I tell you, if he keeps it up...and I
swear Cole and Gabe are gonna start busting heads. His in particular.”

Riley smirked. “If they could get away with it, I’d say go for it. Fuck him up good. It’s all just a

game to those bastards. They don’t give a fuck about the truth or who’s innocent. They’re just out to
win.”

Cocking an eyebrow, Carl stared at him. “You seem pretty opinionated on that. Did you have a

run-in with a prick D.A.?”

Riley shrugged. “Let’s just say I’ve encountered my fair share of injustice within our justice

system. If a trial was really about bringing out the truth...then the defense attorney and the prosecutor
would work together, not against each other. They would be a team.” He snorted. “But they don’t
give two shits about the truth. Winning is their goal, and nothing more.”

Carl detected some deep rooted resentments and bitterness in the man but didn’t push for details.

Regardless of what instigated Riley’s views and opinions – Carl agreed with him one hundred
percent. At least where Bronson Tate was concerned. He had more faith in Jensen Taylor’s morality
and honest intentions. And though things looked bleak at the moment, and Abel and Savannah, and
even Devlin, were feeling the bruises of Tate’s attack, Carl had complete trust in Jensen that he
would take care of Abel and bring him through this.

When a hand gripped his shoulder lightly, Carl flinched in start then glanced around to find Lex

Roaman sliding onto the stool beside him. “How are things in court?”

“It’s tough,” Carl said. “But Abel will get through this. He’s a tenderhearted kid, wears his heart

on his sleeve, but still tough as nails at the core.”

Lex nodded. “I haven’t had the chance to really get to know him, but the short time I was around

him, he seemed resilient.”

“He is,” Carl nodded.

“Can I get you anything?” Riley asked Lex.
“No, thank you,” Lex smiled and shook his head. “I have to be going in a moment.” He looked at

Carl. “How is Gabe doing? And Cole?”

“Gabe is healing. No setbacks,” Carl told him. “As far as the two of them are concerned, they

seem as good as ever.”

Lex sighed and nodded. “That’s good. Cole was in bad shape during that bit of chaos. I’m glad to

hear they’re still going strong.”

“Well that’s in a large part thanks to you,” Carl reminded him. “It took some balls to walk into

that lair.” Carl shook his head then cast the man a sidelong glance and grinned, “But rumor has it if
big cojones are the order of the day,” he winked, “you’re the man to call.”

Lex chuckled and raised a neatly trimmed eyebrow. “Well if you ever want to know if the rumor

is true,” he spoke low, sultry, “just give me a shout.” His gaze lingered just long enough on Carl’s
face to imply that maybe there was less “joking” behind his words as there was “seriousness”. Lex
stood up. “Well, I have to be going. You sexy boys take care now.”

Carl and Riley bid him goodbye then watched him as he walked out of the club.
“Fuck,” Riley chuckled and shook his head. “He was totally extending an invitation to you, my

man.”

“He was just kidding,” Carl said, though even he was having his doubts about that. “Besides, I’m

spoken for. And I’m satisfied with what I have.”

“All right, all right,” Riley held up his hands, grinning, then leaned on the bar and glanced

towards the entrance. “I wonder if the rumors are true. If so, I’m thinking you’d do more than just
shout if you gave him a call.”

“Fuck,” Carl laughed.
Max emerged from his office a few minutes later and spoke to Riley about closing up for him, then

he and Carl left the club. Back in the car, Max produced a leather billfold. “Horatio left this the last
time he was at club. I’ll give it back to him tomorrow.”

“If you want to run by and give it to him now, it’s okay,” Carl said. He watched the emotions

churn behind Max’s eyes.

“No,” Max shook his head and started the car. “He’ll be at the courthouse tomorrow.”
“Okay,” Carl murmured, his gaze lingering on Max’s face. His words to Riley resurfaced; I’m

spoken for.

But for how long?

Chapter 12

“Love Unbreakable”

“I don’t feel so good,” Savannah told Abel when they entered the house. “I’m going to go lay down.”

The girl was more pale than usual and worry pinched Abel’s face. “Are you sick?”
Savannah’s eyes weighed heavily. “A little. Mostly I’m just tired.” She walked away down the

hall and entered her bedroom, closing the door quietly behind her.

“I’m sure she’s just worn out from the stress of the trial,” Cole assured Abel, but the shadow of

concern in Devlin’s eyes made him uneasy. Surely an abundance of stress and tension couldn’t be
good for someone with Savannah’s condition. Even under the best circumstances she had her good
days and bad days, and at times her medication made her nauseous.

“Why don’t you two go get some rest?” Gabe touched both Abel and Devlin on the back and

gently ushered them toward the hall. “We’ll take care of dinner.”

Devlin sighed. “I have an eight o’clock shift tonight.” His voice was heavy with weariness and it

was clear the last thing he wanted to do that night was go to work. “If I fall asleep, be sure and wake
me by six-thirty.”

“Maybe you should just take the night off,” Cole suggested. He had planned to go down to the

hospital when Devlin went on his shift, and get his tests done. But right now the doctor’s wellbeing
took priority. Cole didn’t know if his and Gabe’s little “chat” with Tate did any good. If not, then
Devlin was in for a rough day tomorrow. The man needed all the rest he could get.

Devlin shook his head. “I can’t. I’m covering for Doctor Walters who wasn’t going to be able to

make it in tonight.” He ran his hand through his hair. “I’ll be fine. I just need a couple hours of sleep.”
He took hold of Abel’s hand. “Come on, babe. You need more rest than all of us.”

Moving closer to Gabe, Cole watched the two walk down the hall. Abel seemed about to drop

and looked physically, as well as emotionally, beaten down. Devlin didn’t appear in much better
shape. When they disappeared into their bedroom, Cole stared at the closed door, eyes burning. He
didn’t try to deny that he had a special love for Abel, and seeing him like this broke his heart and
boiled his blood. It was his natural primal instinct to want to protect the boy at all costs, regardless of
what he had to do to keep him from harm.

Gabe moved around behind him and wrapped his arms around his waist, kissing the nape of his

neck. “Let me guess,” he murmured. “You’re thinking maybe prison would have been worth it just to
beat the piss out of that motherfucker.”

The corner of Cole’s mouth twitched. “You read me like an open book.” He twisted around and

flattened his hands on Gabe’s chest. The warmth of his skin pressed through the fabric of his shirt and
his heart pumped strong against the palm of Cole’s right hand. “If Tate’s bullshit games fuck up
Abel’s and Devlin’s relationship, I don’t care about the consequences – I will fuck him up.”

Gabe frowned. “What do you mean?”
Exhaling slowly, Cole drew back and the two entered the kitchen. “Their relationship is still new.

And it started off on a pretty harsh note. They were both wounded right at the very beginning.” He
shook his head. “I know they’re good now and all. But shit like that takes time to put to rest once and
for all. And up till now, I think they’ve been doing a pretty good job of dealing with it.” He retrieved
a couple cans of beer from the refrigerator and handed one to Gabe. “But with Tate coming in and

fucking with their minds, twisting the facts...what if it has adverse effects on their relationship? Starts
digging up things that Abel and Devlin have laid to rest? And then fucking with Savannah as well?”
His jaw tightened as he popped the tab on his beer. “None of them need this shit.”

“No, they don’t,” Gabe murmured.
“I mean, when two people go through a traumatic event,” Cole said, “they need a period of calm

to just figure it out and deal with the internal damage it may have caused.” He stared at his untouched
beer, then looked up. Gabe was watching him, those baby blue eyes that Cole could drown in filled
with uncertainty. “What?” Cole asked quietly.

Gabe’s lips tightened as he twisted the can in his hands. “Are we okay, Cole?”
Frowning, Cole shifted then set his beer aside. “Gabe...” He stepped closer and cupped the side

of Gabe’s neck. “Baby, I wasn’t talking about us.”

Gabe swallowed thickly. “Are you sure about that?” Emotion strained his voice. “I know that you

understand what was really happening in that whole situation with Quint, but...” His throat worked
and tears glazed his eyes. “I also know that some images can’t be erased. Not without a lot of work,
anyway. And what you saw, at my apartment...” His tears thickened. “Cole...”

“Don’t, Gabe,” Cole whispered, his vision blurring. He pulled Gabe against him and embraced

him hard. The man clung to him. “It’s over. We don’t have to talk about it.”

“I know how much it hurt you to see that,” Gabe choked, squeezing him tighter. “I know it still

hurts. I wish...I wish I could undo it. I never wanted you to see. I feel like...” He buried his face in
Cole’s neck and cried. “I feel like I betrayed you...your love and...and trust in me.”

“Gabe, please don’t do this, baby,” Cole clutched him in his arms desperately, tears slipping free.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. None of it was your fault.”

Gabe shook against him. “It hurts, Cole.” His breath shuddered and broke against Cole’s neck.

“And I don’t know how to make it stop. I keep seeing the way you looked at me after you saw what I
did with Quint. The pain in your eyes.” He gripped Cole’s head and shoved his brow hard against his
temple, breath hitching with sobs. “And right then...at that moment...” He shook his head, crying
harder. “You didn’t love me anymore.”

Cole’s heart fell to pieces; Gabe hadn’t told him this before, hadn’t confessed to how much he

was hurting inside over everything that had happened. They hadn’t really had a chance to talk about
all that had happened, and maybe to be honest, they had been deliberately avoiding opening that
wound any wider when it was still so fresh and sore. But how could Gabe suffer blame? He had
nearly died trying to protect the ones he loved. “No,” Cole kissed him hard, his heart crushing. “No,
baby, I never stopped loving you. Not for a second. It wasn’t your fault. If either of us is guilty of
anything, it’s me, Gabe. Not you. I’m the one who cheated on us, not you, baby. Not you.”

Pulling back a little, Gabe kissed his mouth, his lips trembling. “You didn’t cheat on us.”
“Neither did you,” Cole choked and kissed him back. “I never stopped loving you. I didn’t. I

swear, I didn’t.” Gabe hugged him again, so tight. Cole closed his eyes and held the man as they both
trembled beneath the residue of their pain. “We’re okay, Gabe. We are. All of this hurt...it will go
away. I’ll make it go away, I promise, baby. Nothing – nothing – will ever tear us apart again.” He
squeezed Gabe hard and pressed his lips firmly to his ear. “I swear to God it won’t.”

***

Since that first time alone with Abel on Horatio Kaplan’s plane, every second spent in the young
man’s presence had been heaven. With every passing moment, Devlin had felt their love growing

stronger, their bond tighter. So it naturally frightened him when tension seemed to settle over the
bedroom once he and Abel stepped into the room and closed the door – and were truly alone for the
first time since the trial had started that morning.

Abel didn’t speak as he sat down on the edge of the bed, his eyes blank as he slowly removed his

shoes. Devlin didn’t have to ask to know that every word Tate had said in the courtroom that day was
repeating inside Abel’s head now. Did he think that Tate had somehow planted a seed of doubt in
Devlin’s heart? And that Devlin was now, possibly, considering that maybe Tate’s proposed scenario
was the real truth? That it was Abel – and not Craig – who had instigated the events at the orphanage?

But none of that was true. Devlin knew bullshit when he smelled it. And he and Abel had gone

through enough hell trying to get to where they were now – he’d be damned if he would let that
motherfucker tear apart everything they had gained through blood, sweat and tears.

Devlin walked to the bed, knelt before Abel and slowly removed his socks. The boy stared at the

floor, a shimmer to his eyes. “If you let that fucker in your head, baby,” Devlin said softly, “then he’s
already won.” Devlin rubbed his hands up Abel’s legs and gently gripped his thighs. Abel didn’t
reply, his stare unfocused. “Abel. Baby, look at me.”

His throat working as he tried to swallow, Abel lifted his eyes. The fear reflecting back blasted

through Devlin’s heart. The boy was terrified that Devlin might doubt the truth of what happened. He
was scared and heartbroken that maybe some part of Savannah believed Tate’s theory that Abel had
only been concerned about himself.

Devlin cupped Abel’s face. The boy’s cheeks were flushed and heated his palms. He slid his

thumbs gently across Abel’s eyes, wiping away the tears before they fell. “I love you, Abel,” he said
softly and brushed his lips over the boy’s mouth. “Savannah loves you. Neither of us are so weak
minded that we’re going to buy into all that bullshit. You protected Savannah all her life. And some
carefully chosen and twisted words by that asshole isn’t going to unravel that reality. And me,” he
smiled warmly and kissed him tenderly. “Please give me some credit, baby. You and
Savannah...you’re my whole world. No one is going to take that away from me. And tomorrow, that
bastard can spin all the theories and stories he wants, but I’m not going to play his fucking games. I
know what is.” He caressed Abel’s cheeks with his thumbs. “And in the words of our ever wise
Cole...no piss-ant prosecutor is going to take us down.”

Abel sniffed and swallowed hard as his tongue slid slowly over his lower lip. “You’re like a

dream,” Abel whispered unsteadily. “And I keep thinking that I’m going to wake up and...and me and
Savannah will still be out on the streets, alone. Or back at the orphanage. And none of this will have
been real.”

“It is a dream, Abel,” Devlin murmured, running his thumb across the boy’s lips. “A dream come

true. It’s reality. There’s nothing to awake from. So don’t let Tate scare you into thinking he’s going to
disturb your slumber. You’re wide awake, baby. I’m really here, we’re really together.” He kissed
him again, deeper, longer. “And I’m on your side. All the way.” He caressed Abel’s face, his heart
pounding. “Till death do us part.”

Abel stared at him, his lovely amber eyes searching, questioning.
Devlin smiled. “Yes, baby,” he whispered. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
Fresh tears formed in Abel’s eyes and he hugged Devlin, squeezing him in his arms.
“I don’t do things half-heartedly, baby,” Devlin said softly, holding him tight. “If we’re going to

be together, then we’re going all the way.” He kissed his ear. “No turning back.”

Chapter 13

“Healing Waters”

The drive back to Max’s place was a quiet one. In the back seat, Maddy leaned against the passenger
door and stared out the window. The word “forlorn” came to mind as Dane glanced in the rearview
mirror at the boy. The kid wanted so desperately to be there for Savannah, to be her ‘knight in shining
armor’ and protect her from the hurt and fears. The boy was an angel all in his own right. Dane had to
wonder how two such perfect, beautiful boys came out of the awful people who had no right to call
themselves these boys’ parents. But the why and how were of little importance; Angel and Maddy
were here, and the world was a better place for it.

“Do you think I could talk to Maddy alone for a minute?” Dane asked Angel quietly when they

were parked in Max’s driveway. He leaned over and kissed Angel’s mouth and whispered, “I think
he needs a heartfelt pep-talk.”

Angel nodded and smiled. The young man had spent so many years as Maddy’s sole refuge, the

only one to console him and encourage him. But rather than express jealousy that his little brother
now had others to turn to, who were there to look after him as well, Angel appeared grateful. But
Dane understood – it had to have been one hell of a heavy weight to carry trying to be Maddy’s big
brother, his parents, his protector and provider...all at the same time. But even so, he had done a damn
good job and he hadn’t buckled under the pressure.

As Angel exited the car and headed into the house, Dane twisted around and looked at Maddy.

“Why don’t you come up here in the front seat?”

Maddy opened the door and climbed out then slid into the front seat, still warm from Abel. “What

did you want to talk to me about?” Maddy asked quietly.

“Savannah,” Dane said. “Now I know Max talked to you a little bit back at the restaurant, and you

probably just wish everyone would leave you alone. But we’re here for you as your friends, and your
family.” He reached over and rubbed his hand down the back of Maddy’s head and gripped his neck
gently. “You and Savannah, you’re not average, everyday teenagers. Your blinders have been
stripped away and you see life for what it really is. Physically, the two of you might still technically
be kids. But inside, you are both much older, and wiser, than most kids your age. And because of the
things you’ve been through, and witnessed – even the good things – you’re not going to approach love
and relationships like typical teenagers.”

Maddy’s lips tightened. He shrugged. “What do you mean?”
Dragging his free hand over his mouth, Dane cleared his throat. “What you and Savannah are

beginning to feel for each other, it isn’t just a schoolyard crush, so to speak. Or ‘puppy love’.” He
caressed the side of Maddy’s neck with his thumb. “I think both of you are only equipped to love with
real, true love. The lasting kind. Unlike a lot of kids your age, you understand that love, and life, isn’t
a game. That hearts break, and when they do – the devastation is crippling. You’ve both watched the
people you love suffer broken hearts, you know that love isn’t to be handled carelessly.”

Maddy nodded slowly and picked at his jeans.
“And in light of your ability to understand life, Maddy,” Dane said gently. “You need to know that

Savannah is dealing with some real life issues. Things that are really tough for anyone, but especially
for someone her age. And it makes her feel vulnerable, and scared.”

Maddy looked at him. “What is it?”
“I wish I could tell you,” Dane murmured. “But I can’t. Savannah has to be the one.”
“Why doesn’t she just tell me?”
“It’s a very sensitive issue, Maddy,” Dane explained. “And she isn’t holding back because you’re

not important to her, but because you are. She likes you very much.”

“I like her too,” Maddy whispered and lowered his eyes. “A lot.”
“I know.” Dane squeezed his neck gently. “And that’s why I’m telling you even this much. Maybe

I shouldn’t be, but I can’t bear the thought of you thinking that she might be shutting you out because
she didn’t want you in the courtroom. That isn’t true. But this is something that you have to be willing
to let her bring to you. You can’t push it, Maddy. Just be there for her, let her know you care, and be
patient...and in time she will find the courage to talk to you about it.”

Nodding, Maddy said softly, “Okay. I can do that.”
Dane smiled and drew Maddy closer, kissing his head. “You are the perfect boy for her,” he

murmured. “I do believe that.” He lightly ruffled the boy’s hair.

Pulling back, Maddy laughed and combed his fingers through his hair. He cocked an eyebrow and

looked at Dane inquisitively. “Can you cut hair?”

“Why?”
The boy shrugged and fussed with his hair. “I was thinking I should get my hair cut.”
“Well,” Dane shifted in his seat, “With as many gay men as you have around you, there has got to

be enough collective ‘hair stylist’ genes among us to manage a simple haircut.”

Maddy grinned. “That’s what I was thinking.”
“Oh fuck,” Dane laughed and ruffled his hair again.

***

“Why is it I feel so damn tired and worn out, when I wasn’t even the one on trial?” Max dropped
down on the end of Carl’s bed and rubbed his face. It felt like he’d been physically beaten.

Carl walked to the stand by the bed and removed his wrist watch then unfastened the cuffs of his

shirt sleeves before starting with the top button of the shirt. “When people you love are going through
stressful situations, you feel it too.”

“Yeah. That makes sense.” Max slid his hands up through his hair and gripped his head. Fatigue

wrapped his mind and body. Though he wouldn’t face the truth of it head on, he knew that much of his
weariness stemmed from his encounters with Horatio, the stark memories of their past that refused to
be put down. He just wanted to go to sleep and forget for a while – and pray he didn’t dream about
the man. He wanted him out of his head. Carl was here, and that’s who he wanted to think about, focus
on. And make love to, if he could conjure up enough bodily strength.

“Come on.” Carl approached him, shirt hanging open exposing his hard chest and held out his

hand. “I think I know what you need.”

Max smiled and took his hand, standing slowly with a bit of effort. “I thought bed was what I

needed.”

“It is,” Carl kissed him. “Eventually.” He said no more as he led Max out of the bedroom and

down the hall and into a large bathroom set up with a two-person Jacuzzi tub. Carl released his hand
and went to the tub and turned on the water, adjusting the hot and cold to the perfect temperature.
Knowing that Max was watching his every move, he pressed a small lever that sealed the drain and
the tub began to fill.

Max watched as the man slowly poured in a drizzle of scented bath oil then turned the jets on low,

causing the water to bubble and roil invitingly.

“Can’t take a bath in your clothes,” Carl murmured with a smile as he came back to Max and

started unfastening Max’s shirt. In mere moments, Max stood before him nude as Carl shed his own
garments then took hold of Max’s hand again and walked him over to the tub.

Max smiled. “Looks like heaven if I ever saw it.”
“Then that must mean this is healing water.” Carl stepped into the tub then urged Max to do the

same. Sinking down into the water, Carl drew Max down between his legs and laid him back against
his chest. “You know,” Carl murmured against his ear as he curled his legs and arms around him, and
smiled. “This was my favorite scene in Pretty Woman. It inspired me to buy this tub.”

Max rested his head back on Carl’s shoulder and closed his eyes. “So...” he sighed, lips curving

in a smile. “How many men have you bathed with in this tub before me?”

A soft sponge touched Max’s chest as Carl took his time washing his chest and stomach. It felt so

good being enveloped in the man’s entire embrace. Carl kissed his shoulder. “You’re the first.”

Max opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. “Honestly?”
“Yes,” Carl dragged his lips up the side of Max’s neck. “Now don’t you feel special?”
Exhaling slowly, Max smiled and closed his eyes again, relaxing against Carl’s strong body.

“Actually, I do.”

“Good,” Carl whispered and his legs tightened around him, drawing Max’s hips firmly back

against the man’s groin and his swelling arousal. “Because you are, Max.”

Eyes stinging behind his closed lids, Max swallowed thickly and he rubbed his hands along

Carl’s thighs as Carl curved his legs in between Max’s then stretched them out, rubbing his calves all
the way down the insides of Max’s legs. Carl made him feel special, as if he were the only man on
earth. Horatio was the only other man who had ever made him feel that way. Max knew he had been
special to Dane, but Dane’s heart had yearned for another. Horatio’s hadn’t, and neither did Carl’s.

“Relax,” Carl whispered. Max hadn’t realized he’d tensed up at the mere thought of Horatio, and

forced himself to relax into Carl’s embrace again. “That’s better,” Carl smiled against his ear. He
moved the sponge down Max’s body, gently rubbing all around the base of Max’s swiftly developing
erection.

“Mmm,” Max moaned and lifted his hips a fraction. “That feels good.”
“Yes it does,” Carl agreed as he let go of the sponge and encased Max’s cock in his fist, stroking

firm but slow up and down the length of his shaft.

“Fuck,” Max breathed out stiffly. He hadn’t been fully aware of the level of tension in his body,

gripping his mind, until Carl began to work it out of him.

Carl’s free hand caressed Max’s chest and stomach, his mouth dropping kisses all along Max’s

shoulder and neck. “Are you starting to feel better?”

“Oh god, yes...” Max trembled, a shiver racing through him. His fingers gouged Carl’s thighs,

gripping hard and slipping against hot slick skin as the man squeezed his cock and pumped him a little
faster. “Uhh! Fuck!” The roiling scented water added to the ecstasy of the moment and Max moved
against Carl’s hand, rocking his hips, thrusting with his strokes. Carl hardened beneath him as Max’s
ass rolled on the man’s cock.

“Fuck, baby,” Carl gasped unsteadily, his unencumbered arm wrapping around Max’s waist and

squeezing him hard. His own hips fell into rhythm with Max’s, his rigid shaft slipping back and forth
between Max’s tense, flexed cheeks.

The water rocked with their motion, filling up deeper and starting to slosh over the edge. Carl

released Max’s waist and hurriedly turned off the faucet as he continued to stroke Max.

“Ah fuck...fuck...” Max pressed back against Carl, breath ragged, choppy. “Fuck me, Carl. Please

fuck me now.”

Carl uncurled and straightened his legs as Max quickly moved his feet to the outside of Carl’s

legs and pushed against the bottom of the tub, lifting his hips. Carl positioned his cock head at Max’s
entrance then gasped hard when Max pushed down, taking him in all the way.

“Fuck, Max,” Carl choked and held onto Max’s shaft as the man settled down on top of him then

began to work his hips in firm circles, lifting and dropping, rocking and pumping. “Fuck! Yes!” Carl
jerked on Max’s cock with more urgency.

“Oh my god!” Max clenched his teeth and gripped the edges of the tub for leverage and fucked

Carl as hard as their positions allowed. His head dropped back and body arched as Carl shoved his
dick into him with force, thrusting with urgency. “Yes, baby! Fuck me! Fuck me harder!”

A deep groan burst up Carl’s throat and he pushed Max forward onto his knees. He grabbed the

end of the tub as Carl knelt behind him and clutched his hips and fucked him with intoxicating
desperation. Their wet bodies collided loudly, wetly, the water rocking and swishing wildly,
splashing onto the floor. Max shouted and begged Carl to give it to him harder, deeper, as the
frustrations and tensions and emotions of the day boiled up inside him.

Carl’s body curved over his back as he pumped him hurriedly, his hand finding Max’s cock again

and stroking him vigorously. Oh fuck, Max! Fuck! I’m gonna come!” The man’s fist squeezed his cock
harder, whipping erratically along his shaft. “Oh fuck, baby! Come with me! Hurry, Max! I’m right
there!”

The instant Carl cried out and his cum burst through Max’s insides – Max lost it, unloading his

wad into the water. His body spasmed with the mind shattering orgasm and a strangled cry wrenched
out of him as Carl kept pumping him intensely until both their orgasms released them and they sank
down into the water, their strength abandoning them.

For a long while they laid unmoving in the bubbling water, slowly caressing one another, too

exhausted to speak or attempt to leave the tub. When they finally regained enough strength to crawl out
of the bath, they dried each other off with soft towels then returned to the bedroom naked and fell into
bed together, burrowing beneath the warm, thick blankets and cuddling up close.

Max was barely conscious as his head sank against Carl’s shoulder and he felt the man’s fingers

slip through his wet hair, his lips touch his brow in a soft kiss. Sleep pulled him under quickly and
moments before he succumbed, he thought he heard a very softly whispered – “I love you, Max” –
but couldn’t be sure if it was coming from within his developing dreams of Horatio...or from without,
where Carl held onto him as Max slipped away into the arms of another man.

Chapter 14

“Rhythm Of Love”

“Samuel,” Caleb stepped up behind him and slipped his hands under the back of Samuel’s shirt and
caressed his warm back. “Is everything all right?” Caleb didn’t really know why things felt “off”,
they just did. Since that morning when they had arrived at the courthouse, Samuel had seemed
distracted. Maybe being there for the trial caused his mind to wander and contemplate his own cases
he would soon have to take to court. Every now and then throughout the day, Caleb had caught a look
in Samuel’s eyes that had put him on edge and twisted his guts with unease. Whatever was bugging
Samuel – it had to do with more than just Nick’s and Christian’s cases.

Samuel cleared his throat and shook his head as he unbuttoned his shirt. “Yes. Why?”
“You just didn’t seem like yourself today,” Caleb murmured against his shoulder.
Samuel quipped, “Then who did I seem like?”
“You know what I mean,” Caleb scowled.
In one smooth, graceful move, Samuel turned, peeled off his shirt and pulled Caleb against him.

Smiling, he said, “Yeah. I know what you mean. But everything is fine.”

“You would tell me if it wasn’t...wouldn’t you?”
Samuel kissed him. “Everything...is...fine.” He smiled wider and spider-walked his fingers up

Caleb’s back. “Now, if you want me on my knees to convince you...you got to get naked.”

His fears vanishing in the face of Samuel’s hunger for him, Caleb smirked and started shedding

his clothes. Samuel stood back and watched, still dressed from the waist down. Caleb held his stare
as he finally shoved down his briefs and kicked them aside. He was still amazed at how quickly
Samuel had stolen his heart. Just one look in the man’s eyes and Caleb had been gone. So gone that
he’d nailed the guy as soon as they had met. Or rather – gotten nailed. Caleb’s heart pumped harder at
the memory. It had kind of freaked him out that he’d had sex with Samuel – a total stranger – without
any protection, but it had been an insane rush nonetheless. And it had felt so right.

“I see you’re in your ‘happy’ place,” Samuel smiled, his eyes lingering on Caleb’s hardened

cock.

“Oh, I am,” Caleb confirmed. But then, anyplace was his happy place, if Samuel was there.
Samuel moved towards him with purpose, his lips curved delightfully. “Time to prove your

point.”

Caleb thrust out his hand, his palm smacking lightly against Samuel’s bare chest. “You must

worship in the nude.”

Chuckling, Samuel unfastened his pants. He shook his head and grinned, “We must’ve gone to

different churches growing up.”

“Shit,” Caleb laughed, his eyes following Samuel’s trousers as they slid down his legs to his

ankles and were flung aside.

Samuel held his hands out to the sides. “Acceptable worship attire?”
“Mm.” Caleb surveyed his naked body. Samuel’s erection was rigid, curving beautifully upward

toward his lower abdomen. A pearl drop of pre-cum glistened at the tip, swelling up, ready to trickle
down his veined shaft. The natural angle of the man’s cock made it such a pleasant ride for Caleb and
he couldn’t wait to be on him again. “Acceptable? Mm-hm.”

Before Samuel could drop to his knees in adoration, Caleb took hold of the man’s cock and bent

down, wrapping his lips around the crown, sucking away the tasty drop of nectar. Samuel’s hips
jerked and he groaned, his hand landing on the back of Caleb’s head, fingers squeezing his hair. He
swore softly when Caleb’s tongue dipped into the tiny hole that continued to leak juice. “Mph!”
Samuel grunted and tightened his grip on Caleb’s hair. “Keep that up and you’ll be getting a
mouthful.”

“You’re just saying that to keep me sucking,” Caleb smiled and raised up, his fist still gripping

Samuel’s member, the pad of his thumb massaging the slightly spongy surface of his cock head. More
drops leaked out as he smeared them around the crown, slicking the tip. With a will of their own,
Samuel’s hips slowly rocked back and forth, attempting to push his cock through Caleb’s fist, his eyes
heavy with a healthy mixture of love and lust.

“Can’t blame a guy for trying,” Samuel groaned then reluctantly tugged free of Caleb’s hand and

lowered to his knees. He looked up at Caleb and rubbed his hands up the back of his thighs, drawing
Caleb closer. “Come here, M’Lord, and allow me to shower you with praise.” The corner of his
mouth jerked. “Then you can ‘shower’ me with your love.”

Caleb smiled and eagerly stepped forward, his fingertips playing through Samuel’s hair.
His eyes locking with Caleb’s fevered stare, Samuel dragged his hands around to the front of the

Caleb’s body, rubbed down his inner thighs then slowly up again. Caleb’s breath quickened and
caught in his throat as Samuel’s palm caressed up the underside of Caleb’s hard cock, lifting his
member. He maintained eye contact with Caleb as his tongue snaked out and the wet tip drew patterns
all up and down the underside of his shaft. Caleb’s dick twitched and thickened. Droplets of cum
juice trickled down his cock and were licked up by Samuel’s tongue.

“Mmm,” Samuel moaned then licked his lips. “The nectar of the gods. Yummy.”
A soft chuckle quivered Caleb’s stomach muscles as he stroked his fingers through Samuel’s

blond locks.

Moaning again, Samuel used his full tongue to lick up the length of his cock to the tip. Caleb

trembled and twisted his fingers into Samuel’s hair, gripping tensely. With skilled hands, Samuel
stroked him, fists twisting in slow spiral motions up and down his stiff muscle as he closed his mouth
over the head and sucked with enough pressure to spike Caleb’s heart through the roof.

“Fuck!” Caleb choked then gasped, squeezing Samuel’s hair into his fists. “Shit, you are good,

baby.”

Samuel sucked off him with a wet pop, licked his lips then took the head of his cock back in and

very slowly sucked his dick in deeper and deeper, his velvet mouth wrapping his flesh tightly, tongue
massaging the underside of his shaft as it systematically pulled Caleb’s member into his throat.

“Ahhh!” Caleb ground out through a clenched jaw, teeth grinding. His throat closed and he

struggled for air as his thick cock head pushed against Samuel’s tight throat canal. Holy fuck, his boy
could suck cock like a porn star.

Holding him in deep, Samuel used the inner workings of his mouth and throat to drive Caleb wild.

Then he grabbed Caleb’s ass and slowly rocked him back and forth, sliding his cock in and out of his
mouth.

“Fuck,” Caleb gasped hard and clutched Samuel’s head, getting in rhythm and fucking his mouth.

“Oh my god! Suck me, baby! Uh! Yes...fuck!”

Caleb’s verbal encouragement spurred Samuel on and he tightened his hold on Caleb’s ass,

fingers digging into his cheeks as he began to thrust his mouth onto his cock with more urgency and
force.

“Uhh!” Caleb yelled, his legs shaking as his balls tightened and squeezed up against his body.

This kind of momentum would have him bursting in no time. “Fuck, Samuel! You’re gonna make me
come!”

Samuel went at him harder, shoving his mouth onto him and forcing Caleb’s cock deep into his

throat, his face bumping Caleb’s pelvis with each downward thrust as he took him in to the hilt every
time.

“Fuuuck!” Caleb wailed, certain his legs would buckle at any moment. Somehow they held as

Samuel propelled him towards orgasm. His short nails gouged Samuel’s scalp as he clutched his head
and pumped his cock into his mouth desperately, panting, grunting, his breath exploding out in erratic
puffs. “Fuu-uuck!”

His hips jerked and his body locked briefly as the orgasm coiled and enveloped him. Caleb

sucked in a sharp breath and it stuck, refusing to exhale as the force of the orgasm clenched his fingers
into tight fists, squeezing Samuel’s hair, straining the roots as he curled over a little and shot a load of
cum down Samuel’s throat.

“Fuck!” His breath came back to him suddenly, exploding out of his throat. Before he could catch

it again, or register that Samuel was suddenly on his feet, Caleb’s back hit the bed and Samuel landed
with him, rocking the bed frame. Samuel crushed his mouth with a hot, forceful kiss then rolled them
over and pulled Caleb up on top of him.

Eyes wide, breath labored, Samuel’s fingers squeezed Caleb’s hips as he rasped, “Fuck me!” He

didn’t give Caleb a chance to reply as he spit in his hand and coated his stiff erection then grabbed
Caleb’s ass and lifted him onto his cock.

“Uh!” Caleb fell forward a little, clutching Samuel’s hard chest, arching his hips as Samuel

spread his cheeks. He pushed down on the man’s rock hard cock, his breath abandoning him as
Samuel’s thickness shoved in, stretching him open. His body curved back as a shaking whimper
rattled up his throat. “God! Yes! Give it to me!”

Samuel shifted his hands to Caleb’s hips again and gripped hard then thrust into him. Caleb yelled

then gasped, panting erratically, then looked down at the man he loved – so hot and in a frenzy to fuck
him. Caleb grinned and palmed Samuel’s firm chest muscles, gripping for leverage as he began to
rock and roll his hips, working his ass on Samuel’s cock with that smooth gliding motion that drove
Samuel insane.

“Oh fuck yeah,” Samuel groaned and moved with him, a sexy, lustful smile twisting his lips.

“Dance for me, stripper boy.”

Sitting up straighter, Caleb locked his hands behind his neck and let his body “dance” – curving,

swaying, gyrating – fucking Samuel with exotic grace.

“Oh my god,” Samuel laughed thickly, a whimpering moan pushing out of him. “Fuck, baby, I love

your body. You’re so fucking sexy.”

Caleb smiled. Samuel’s total adoration and desire for him pumped life back into his cock,

stiffening him up nicely as his rhythmic motion bumped his member firmly against Samuel’s hard
stomach. His eyes were heavy with passion for his lover as he rolled his hips smoothly then rocked
them around in a fluid circle, his torso slinking like a hypnotic cobra.

“Good god, baby,” Samuel trembled, “you blow my mind.” He curled his hand around Caleb’s

cock and stroked him, his breath coming quicker, harder. “Can you come for me again? Please?”

His smile widening, Caleb tilted his head back and increased the urgency of his movements,

fucking Samuel harder without losing his rhythm or grace. Samuel pumped his cock with greater
purpose, desperate for Caleb to release a second time. It would happen; Caleb could feel his balls

already tightening, filling to capacity, as Samuel’s penetrating cock raked his sweet spot relentlessly
and his fist slipped up and down his throbbing shaft.

“Fuck, Samuel,” Caleb sucked in a sharp breath. “I’m almost there...keep jacking me, baby, just

like that...fuck...yes.” He discarded his smooth motion as he began to bounce harder on Samuel’s
thrusting dick. “Oh fuck! Samuel! Fuck me! Oh god, I’m gonna come! Oh fuck!”

“Uhh!” Samuel arched and slammed his cock into Caleb again and again, pumping and thrusting,

shaking the bed. His hand raced up and down Caleb’s stiff flesh, shoving Caleb over the edge of
ecstasy. A wrenching wail ripped out of him and he unloaded, hard shots of cum blasting Samuel’s
chest. Samuel’s body jerked and stiffened as he buried his cock in Caleb’s ass and released.
“Fuuuck! Caleb!”

Caleb was suddenly on his back again, Samuel on top and fucking him wildly as he emptied

himself entirely. Seconds later, Samuel exhaled hard and dropped down against him, panting
erratically, his hot breath pluming across Caleb’s slick, fevered skin.

“Fuck, baby,” Caleb shuddered and ran his fingers through Samuel’s damp hair. “That

was...fuck.”

“My sentiments exactly,” Samuel chuckled, breathless, then kissed the center of Caleb’s wet chest

and raised up, planting a firm kiss on his lips. “You are out of this world hot and sexy.”

Caleb smiled and rubbed his hands down the back of Samuel’s head, drawing him in closer for

another kiss. “I love you,” he whispered against his mouth. “Crazy in love with you.”

Scooting up closer, Samuel brushed some damp, clinging strands from Caleb’s brow then kissed

him more softly. “I love you, too.” He rubbed the back of his fingers down Caleb’s flushed cheek.
“I’ll always take care of you, Caleb,” he said quietly, a sudden strain to his voice. “No matter what.”

Caleb’s brow pinched a little as Samuel’s declaration seemed to come out of nowhere. The man’s

pale green eyes churned with emotion. “Okay,” Caleb murmured, his frown deepening. “I know you
will.” Caleb sensed there was a deeper meaning to Samuel’s words, but the effects of their intense
activities had left him exhausted, his mind depleted of thought. Whatever was behind those words
would have to wait until morning for greater in-depth scrutiny.

Chapter 15

“Things Of Tomorrow”

Seth slid his fingers lovingly through Horatio’s soft, dark hair. The man’s sleeping form was
shadowed in the growing darkness of the bedroom. It wasn’t all that late; night hadn’t even set in
completely. But the stress and tension of the day had hit Horatio hard, as Seth suspected it had the
others as well. He’d seen it Max’s eyes, and in the overall demeanor of all those in the courtroom
who were there for Abel. But Horatio’s and Max’s stress stemmed from a much deeper issue.

His head on his pillow, Seth continued to stroke his fingers in Horatio’s hair as he watched him

sleep. His strands remained damp from their passionate love making. It was an amazing experience to
be made love to by this man. But Seth understood that, in the height of passion, Horatio’s mind would
always take him back to Max, and regardless of who was in his arms – his heart saw them as Max.

Though this time, at that moment of release, Horatio had refrained from crying out Max’s name –

Seth had still sensed it there, on the tip of his tongue. He had told Seth he didn’t want him to be Max,
but to just be Seth. And on the surface, Horatio meant it sincerely. But Seth had seen the look in
Horatio’s eyes when he’d told him what Max had said. After all this time, Horatio still needed to
know that it had been a struggle for Max to leave him. Just from his one conversation with Max, Seth
was certain that Horatio couldn’t possibly look the man in the eye and not know how hard it had been
for him to walk away. But doubts and fears had a way of building up over a twenty year stretch.
Horatio’s heart remained tender, wounded...and he needed to “hear” that he hadn’t been so easily
tossed aside.

Warm tears slipped from Seth’s eyes and seeped into the satin pillow. “You could’ve been ‘the

one’ for me,” Seth whispered, throat squeezing. He rubbed the back of his fingers down Horatio’s
warm cheek. “My Prince Charming. My knight in shining armor.” His vision blurred and he moved
closer, pressing his forehead gently against Horatio’s brow. “You could’ve been my fairytale come
true.” He kissed Horatio’s mouth softly, his chin trembling. “But I never really had a chance with you,
did I, baby?” His combed his fingers through the short hairs at Horatio’s temple. “Your heart was
taken long ago.”

He kissed him again and Horatio shifted in his sleep. “Max...” he mumbled.
Fresh tears formed and slid down Seth’s cheeks. “I’m here, baby,” he whispered brokenly and

scooted closer as Horatio’s arms went around him.

“You didn’t leave me...”
Seth bit his lip and pressed his cheek to Horatio’s face, crying softly. He could hear the teenage

boy in Horatio’s voice, that shimmer of childlike fear when one finds themselves lost. “I didn’t leave
you,” he trembled quietly, “I’m right here. I’ve always been right here.” And Seth understood just then
that it was true; Max had never really left Horatio behind. He clung to him as surely as Horatio clung
to Max.

A gentle sigh escaped Horatio and he pushed his face against Seth’s throat as the tension in his

body receded and he relaxed in Seth’s arms. “I knew you wouldn’t leave me...you promised...”

Stroking his hair, Seth kissed his ear. “I did, Max.”
A warm tear dripped onto Seth’s neck and trickled slowly down his skin. “I love you, Max.”
Biting his lip harder, Seth shoved his face into Horatio’s hair, sobs shaking him. “I love you, too,

Horatio. Everything’s going to be okay. I promise

***

Abel shuddered pleasantly beneath the weight and warmth of Devlin’s body. He clung to Devlin,
breath uneven as the man pushed inside him gently. Abel had been terrified that somehow this trial
might damage his and Devlin’s relationship, that they might lose that ‘something special’ that made
their lives beautiful together. He had started to feel like he was falling away, in danger of plummeting
out of sight of Devlin – when Devlin caught him and carried him to safety.

If we’re going to be together, then we’re going all the way.
This whole ordeal wasn’t weakening them. It was making them stronger. And after tonight, Abel

knew he wouldn’t be as sick and afraid to walk back into that courtroom tomorrow. With a single
declaration – Till death do us part – Devlin had stripped away Abel’s fears and disarmed Bronson
Tate.

“When all this shit is done and over with,” Devlin moaned and kissed him, his body working

gently against Abel’s. “We’re going to do this up right.” He smiled and kissed him again, pushing in
deeper for emphasis as he murmured, “Seal the deal.”

Abel curled his legs up around the man’s strong body. “I can’t wait,” he whispered and cupped

the back of Devlin’s head, his heart threatening to burst in his chest. “I love you, Dev.”

“Oh baby,” Devlin groaned and wrapped him tight in his arms, kissing him deep. “You better

mean that, because I’m never letting you get away.” He smiled. “And if you try, I’ll chase you down,
hogtie you and lock you in the basement.”

Abel chuckled, “We don’t have basement.”
“I’ll build one.”
Laughing softly, Abel hugged his neck and tightened his legs around his waist, rocking his hips

sensually against Devlin’s stiff member. “You won’t have to,” he moaned and kissed him. “I promise,
I won’t ever run away.”

Devlin trembled as Abel pushed up on him, rolling his hips in a tantalizing motion. “Good God,

you better not,” he whimpered. “If you took this away from me now, that would just be...evil.”

“Me? Be evil?” Abel’s lips curved in a dark, teasing smile. He slid his arms around Devlin’s

back and rubbed his hands down over his ass, squeezing hard. “Never.”

“Well,” Devlin mused, “A little evil is okay.” He stroked into Abel with added firmness, panting

softly and grinning, “If you know what I mean.”

“I think I’m...” Abel smiled, breath quick, “...getting the point.”
Devlin laughed and smothered him with a passionate kiss, his thrusts gaining strength, momentum.
“Fuck,” Abel gasped when their kiss broke suddenly and Devlin shoved his face into his neck and

fucked him a little harder. “Oh my god!” Abel dug his dull nails into Devlin’s back and moved with
him, body arching and curving beneath the man. “Uhh!” His head shoving down hard into the pillow,
Abel moaned loud, uncaring if Cole and Gabe heard; they were big boys, they knew what went on
between two men in love.

***

Mildly muffled behind the bedroom door, Abel’s moans escalated to prominent cries on a crescendo
of pants and gasps from both parties. Gabe leaned against the counter beside Cole as the man chopped

vegetables for the salad. “And you were worried about them,” he mused.

“What can I say?” Cole glanced at him and shrugged. “Guess I’m just a worry wart.”
Gabe leaned further back on his elbows and cocked his head to the side, smiling warmly. “That’s

part of your charm.”

“I have charm?” Cole cocked an eyebrow and smiled, his eyes on his task.
“Loads and loads,” Gabe grinned and winked.
“Well, I have loads of something,” Cole snorted.
“Trust me,” Gabe shifted and nibbled Cole’s ear. “It’s charm.” Cole chuckled then fell silent as

Gabe remained close, his lips rubbing slowly down the side of his neck. Gabe rested his mouth
against Cole’s shoulder then stepped around behind him and hugged him. Cole’s heart pumped hard
against his palm. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Cole cleared his throat. “For what?”
“For losing it there for a moment,” Gabe kissed the back of his neck. “I get it that it takes time to

put things to rest.”

Cole nodded slowly then laid down the knife and turned around. “It does, Gabe,” he said quietly.

Cole’s arms went around his waist. “But it will be put to rest.” He embraced him tight. “It’ll take time
for me to deal with what I did to us.” He pressed his lips to Gabe’s neck. “To you.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Gabe whispered.
“How can you not be mad at me?” Cole asked thickly.
Pulling back, Gabe kissed him. “If I had seen what you saw, I...” he shook his head. “I would have

lost it too. And probably went a lot crazier than you did.” He didn’t blame Cole for anything. The
only anguish in Gabe’s heart was a result of the hurt he’d caused Cole. In so many ways, the man had
suffered more greatly than Gabe. Gabe had been tortured physically, and even psychologically – but
Cole had suffered emotionally, taking hits to his heart. It had hurt Gabe desperately when Cole had
thrown him out of his life, but even then he had known that if Cole was privy to the truth – he would
have him back in an instant.

But as far as Cole knew...he had lost Gabe forever.
So no, he couldn’t find it within himself to hold Cole accountable for his actions.
“Gabe,” Cole released an unsteady breath and stepped back, resting against the counter. He

chewed his lower lip, eyes drifting to the floor. “There’s something I didn’t tell you.”

Gabe looked at him. “Something bad?”
Raising his eyes, Cole sighed. “There’s always that risk that it could be bad.”
“Okay,” Gabe frowned. When Cole hesitated, Gabe moved closer and wrapped his arms around

his neck. He kissed his mouth. “Look, unless you’re giving me the boot...we’ll be fine. What is it?”

Cole sighed again and shifted his gaze away. “One of the men that I was with...” He swallowed

tightly. “It was Faron Ryland.”

Closing his eyes briefly, Gabe nodded. “I know.”
“How do you know?” Cole looked at him, brow pinched.
Gabe shrugged. “Logic.” He didn’t mention that he had been driving by the club that night and

seen Ryland emerge with a thoroughly satisfied smile on his face. The man had been after Cole for
quite some time, and Gabe had been smart enough to deduce that only one thing could have left
Ryland with that level of satisfaction; he’d finally gotten what he’d wanted.

“There’s more,” Cole murmured. “We didn’t...we didn’t use protection.” Cole shook his head and

avoided Gabe’s eyes. “I just...I didn’t give a fuck. I thought we were through and...” his lips tightened
as his voice strained with emotion. “I think I was hoping I would catch something that would just...kill

me.” When he finally looked at Gabe, tears shimmered. “I didn’t know we would be together again,
Gabe. I would have never even been with him. It made me feel sick and...I wanted to die.”

Gabe hugged him again, squeezing him in his strong arms. “I know, Cole,” he whispered. “I know

how much you were hurting. I wouldn’t have cared either. But,” he drew back and cleared his throat.
“You’re going to be okay. We are going to be okay.” He sighed, “I’m at risk, too.” He slid his thumb
over Cole’s cheek. “Have you gotten tested yet?”

“No,” Cole murmured. “I was actually going to do that tonight, when Devlin went on shift. I

should have told you, but...I didn’t want you to know. I felt like it was just one more betrayal on my
part.”

“Hey,” Gabe cupped his face and kissed him firmly. “There was no betrayal. Period. Okay? You

were going through hell, Cole. We both were. Who the fuck thinks rationally when they’re in a state of
chaos?”

Uncertainty, and a glimmer of fear, flickered through Cole’s eyes. “What if-”
“No,” Gabe cut him off, shaking his head. “No ‘what ifs’. Babe, we’ve been through enough shit

to last us an eternity without worrying about what ‘might’ happen. As the Good Book says, ‘Take no
thought for tomorrow, for tomorrow will take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient unto the
day is the evil thereof’.” He kissed Cole and smiled. “A little wisdom from the man upstairs.”

Chapter 16

“Love Interrupted”

Max! MAX!

“Huh!” Max’s breath lodged in his throat, jerking him out of his sleep and away from the dream –

the memory – of the day he’d left Horatio and ended up at the pond. He sat forward, knees drawn up
under the blankets.

“Max?” Carl sat up on the bed next to him, fully awake. Max had no idea if he’d even fallen

asleep after their bath. “Are you okay?”

Max’s throat was clogged with tears, thick with emotion; had he been crying in his sleep? Had he

said anything? “Yeah,” he rasped and rubbed his face, finding it damp with tears. He quickly wiped
them away, hoping it was too dark in the bedroom for Carl to see.

“Did you have a bad dream?”
“What?” Max cast him a quick look then averted his gaze. “Why?”
Carl sank back on his elbows and Max could feel his eyes resting on his back. “You seemed

restless, like you weren’t sleeping well.”

“I don’t...” Max cleared his throat and shrugged. “I don’t remember.” But he did. He had been

back at the pond, running from Horatio’s screams of anguish. Just the quick recollection squeezed his
throat and brought new tears to his eyes. He blinked them back hurriedly. His muscles quivered as
Carl reached out and touched his back.

“It’s okay, you know?” Carl said softly, and something in his voice – the tenderness, compassion,

understanding – Max didn’t know what for sure, it threatened to break Max down into a fit of tears.

“What is?” Max asked thickly.
Carl didn’t reply immediately. A few moments passed before he murmured, “It’s okay for you to

talk about Horatio.”

The stinging in Max’s eyes intensified and he rubbed them with his fingertips. “Why would I want

to do that?”

“What was the dream about?” Carl asked softly without answering his question.
Max shook his head. “I told you, I don’t remember any dream.”
“You’re lying, Max.” Carl sat forward again and rubbed his hand up Max’s back then leaned over

and kissed his bare shoulder. “Tell me. I know it was about Horatio. Was it something from when you
were young?”

The man refused to be deterred; had Max spoken Horatio’s name in his sleep? “Yeah,” he

whispered and wiped at his face again, discovering new tears on his cheeks.

“Was it a memory? Or a dream?”
“A memory,” Max spoke quietly, hugging his knees through the blankets. He stared across the

shadowed bedroom but he wasn’t seeing the wall on the far side. He saw the water, the sunlight
sparkling across the surface like a scatter of diamonds. He saw the patch of grass, flattened down
against the ground from his and Horatio’s bodies lying there every day. He saw the clear blue sky
overhead, the occasional bird soaring through his line of sight. And he saw Horatio, his beautiful eyes
the color of mahogany overflowing with life and love...and then filling with tears, pain, and anguish
as Max had torn his heart from his chest and cast it away.

dp group.org

“Tell me about it,” Carl gently urged. “You don’t have to hide away that part of you, Max.” His

lips touched Max’s shoulder again and lingered. “I know you will always love Horatio. I’m not so
naïve as to think that will ever really go away. And it’s okay. I’m not asking you stop. He’s been a
part of you from the start, and the love you shared with him...it helped make you the man you are
today. And in case you’re not aware of it,” Carl kissed his warm skin. “You are one hell of a man,
Maxwell Raines. The best, in my book.”

Why can’t I be in love with this amazing man? Just him? Why does everything have to be so

fucked up?

Max closed his eyes slowly as warm tears pushed out and slid down his face. He didn’t open his

eyes when he felt Carl’s thumb rub across his cheek and brush away the tears. His words strained and
broken, he told Carl about going back to the pond, and then Horatio showing up. He opened his eyes
and a rush of hot tears ran free. “Twenty years,” he choked, “And I still can’t get that sound out of my
head...him screaming my name. I killed him that day, Carl.” He ducked his head and shoved his face
against his knees, crying. “I killed him...as surely as if I’d taken a knife to his heart. And I just...I just
walked away and left him there to...to bleed.”

Carl wrapped his arm around his shoulder and drew Max against him, kissing his head.
“For two decades I kept telling myself I didn’t have any choice, that I did the right thing.” A fit of

sobs shook him. “But his heart is still ripped open and bleeding. I can see it, every time I look at him.
It’s all still there...fresh and raw, as if I’d just walked out on him yesterday.” His breath burst out in
broken puffs and he raised his head, vision blurred as he looked at Carl. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t want
to hurt you too. I thought...I thought I could just move on.” He lowered his head into his hands and
gripped his hair, trembling. “But I can’t, can I? Not ever. It’s never going to stop hurting.” His head
slid down into his arms and he cried harder. “I can’t do this anymore. It hurts...to breathe.”

***

“That’s not too shabby, if I do say so myself,” Dane grinned. He set the scissors aside and tugged the
towel from around Maddy’s neck, a shower of dark hair falling to the floor to join more clumps.

Maddy glanced at him uncertainly as he stood up off the stool and brushed the clinging bits of hair

from his shirt.

“I like it,” Angel nodded and smiled sweetly, “Now we can actually see that cute little face of

yours.”

“God,” Maddy rolled his eyes, a grin trying to grab his lips.
Dane chuckled. “Go on, check yourself out.”
Grabbing the hem of his t-shirt, Maddy shook it, dislodging even more hair clippings as he

walked out of the kitchen. Angel grabbed the broom and started sweeping up the loose hair. “Maybe
you should be a hair dresser,” Angel snickered.

“Smart ass,” Dane grinned and shook his head.
“Don’t you mean cute ass?” Angel gyrated around the handle of the broom as if it were a stage

pole and shook his ass.

“Quit teasing me, boy,” Dane growled.
Angel laughed, “Who’s teasing?” He rocked his body, swaying so beautifully it turned Dane’s

crotch to instant granite. He had never voiced it aloud, but he had fantasies of Angel up on stage
again, both of them dancing together. He missed dancing so much more than he let on. Not the private
sessions, but being on stage. It had never really been about playing to the lusts of the men, but about

the way the music weaved through his body and set his soul free. Angel hadn’t asked him to quit
dancing, or even implied that he wanted him to stop. And Dane knew the boy would understand if he
went back to it. But now, whenever he envisioned himself on stage...Angel was always there with
him. And that was one place he would never ask Angel to go back to. And especially not with him.
He wouldn’t risk ripping open that wound again. Not ever.

But dancing with Angel off stage seemed to have no adverse effects. Dane grinned and moved in

close behind Angel, taking hold of his hips and swaying his body in time with Angel’s rhythm. Fuck,
they went so well together. So perfectly in sync, from the first time they had danced together. Dane’s
hands slid around Angel’s waist and flattened against his stomach as he pressed snuggly up against
his firm little ass. Angel let the broom fall to the floor and snaked his arms up behind him around
Dane’s neck.

“You’re making me hot,” Dane moaned against his ear, affording his hands the freedom to venture

lower, rubbing Angel’s crotch. The boy was as hard as Dane.

Angel pressed back against him, body slithering back and forth, his ass massaging Dane’s crotch.

“Am I?” he breathed out in a sensual, sexy tone.

“You ain’t no angel,” Dane growled and squeezed the boy’s crotch firmly. “You’re just a naughty

little devil.”

Angel grinned. “And you just hate that, don’t y-”
“Stop,” Maddy groaned from the kitchen doorway. Dane released Angel. A slight flush warmed

Angel’s cheeks, which only made him sexier. Maddy narrowed his eyes and shook his head. “I swear,
I can’t leave you guys alone for two seconds.” He chuffed. “Ain’t you supposed to save that stuff for
the club?”

Dane chuckled and rocked his hips. “Maybe you’d like to learn a few moves yourself?”
“Yeah. Sure,” Maddy snorted. “That’s all this family needs – more strippers.”
“Hey.” Dane grinned, “it saves on clothing costs.” He winked. “And besides, you can never have

too many hot boy strippers. That’s just a contradiction of terms.”

Angel laughed and nudged Dane’s arm. “Okay, enough. Stop soliciting my little brother to shake

his booty.” Angel looked at Maddy and smiled, “Even if it is a cute little booty.” Angel and Dane
broke out laughing as the younger boy sighed and shook his head.

“And you’re supposed to be my examples to follow?” He groaned. “I’m in trouble.”
“Yes, my boy, you are,” Dane chuckled. His gaze swept over Maddy’s hair which the boy had

lightly dampened and combed. “By the way, the hair looks great. Makes you look all hot and sexy.”
He winked. “Savannah won’t be able to resist you.”

Another groan escaped the boy, but Dane caught the hint of a smile on his lips as he walked to the

fridge and grabbed a soda then headed for the kitchen doorway.

“Where you going?” Angel laughed.
“To my room.”
Dane smirked, “Better put on your headphones and crank up the volume.”
“Ugh!” echoed back as the boy disappeared through the doorway.
“Hm. What’s wrong with him?” Dane smiled at Angel. “He can’t appreciate a little wild, sweaty

sex between his older brother and his hot, sexy boyfriend?”

Angel narrowed his eyes. “Why didn’t you say his hot, sexy older brother?”
“Ahh,” Dane grinned and hugged him. He kissed his cheek firmly. “Baby, that’s a given.”
Angel sighed and nodded. “Good answer.”
“So,” Dane dropped his hands to Angel’s ass, secured his grip then lifted Angel up. The boy

wrapped his legs around Dane’s waist and his arms around his neck. “Wanna play Cupid?” He
wriggled eyebrows. “You can poke me with your arrow.”

“Fuck,” Angel laughed and buried his face in his neck. “You’re such a freak.”
Dane chuckled, “But still a hot, sexy freak, right?”
Angel nodded and grinned, “That’s a given.”
“Then it’s all good.”
Angel squeezed his legs around Dane’s body and pushed his hard crotch against his abdomen.

“You can say that again, baby.”

Groaning in anticipation, Dane moved toward the doorway. “Onward to Cupid’s lair,” he grinned

and nuzzled Angel’s neck, causing the boy to squeal and squirm.

Dane’s cell phone went off a split second before his foot connected with the bedroom door,

knocking it open. “Uh! Seriously?” he walked to the bed and threw Angel onto the soft mattress where
the boy landed with an exhaled laugh. “Prepare your arrow,” Dane ordered as he tugged his phone
from his pocket. “I shall return.”

“Freak,” Angel laughed as Dane stepped out in the hall.
Dane answered the call without checking the I.D. “This better be important,” he warned lightly as

he glanced back into the bedroom. Angel was propped on his elbows watching him. Dane surveyed
his body and flashed him a hungry smile, which faded quickly when Carl’s voice came through the
line, a clear note of stress in his tone.

Stepping further into the hall, Dane frowned as he listened to what Carl had to say. His chest

squeezed. “I see,” he said quietly. “Just bring him home.”

He ended the call moments later and snapped the phone closed. “Fuck,” he whispered as his hand

slid over his mouth and an ache crept into his heart.

Ah Max, baby, what’re we going to do with you?

Chapter 17

“No More Running Away”

“You’re coming inside, aren’t you?” Max asked quietly.

The car idled in Max’s driveway. Carl shook his head. “I was thinking of running down to the

club. Maybe hang out and help Riley close up later.”

“Carl...”
“It’s okay, Max,” Carl murmured, his throat tight. “I understand.” He looked at the man then

reached over and brushed his fingers through his hair. “I do.”

Max licked his lips slowly then pressed them tight. “I know tonight got really fucked up, Carl,” he

whispered. “But...I have these moments. And then I get over them.” He met Carl’s eyes. “I’m not
ready to give this up. Or give you up.”

Leaning over, Carl kissed him softly. “We don’t have to talk about it tonight. Just get some rest,

some real rest, and just...” Carl caressed his face. “Just feel better, okay?”

“We could have stayed at your place,” he said quietly. “It would’ve been okay. I didn’t mean

to...go there, you know? I don’t very often.”

Carl nodded. “I know.” But maybe you should.
“Are you sure you won’t come in?” Max swallowed thickly. “You could stay here tonight, if you

wanted.”

“Thanks,” Carl smiled but it felt weak, strained. “But I think you should just get some rest. It’s

going to be another long, stressful day tomorrow.”

Max sighed. “Yeah. It is.”
Leaning in again, Carl kissed him deeply. “I’ll see you tomorrow. And despite what you might

think, tonight wasn’t ruined.” He touched his head to Max’s brow. “I’ve never enjoyed a bath so much
in all my life.”

Max smiled, but there was a sadness in his eyes that Carl felt in his heart. “Me neither.” He

opened his door then looked at Carl again. “We’ll figure this out, Carl. We’ll be okay. It doesn’t
matter how much the past hurts...I can’t go back there.”

“I know,” Carl said softly then gave him one more kiss before the man climbed out of the car and

closed the passenger door. Carl watched him until he disappeared into the house. His heart broke for
the man. Max was trying so hard to believe he could move on from Horatio. But that was just an
illusion.

Carl arrived at the Phoenix about twenty minutes after leaving Max’s place. When he and Max

had been there earlier, the customers had been sparse. The club had filled up quite a bit since then.

“I didn’t expect to see you back here tonight.” Riley served a drink to a customer as Carl walked

to the far end of the bar where it was less crowded.

As soon as Riley got a moment, he came down to Carl’s end of the bar. “You look like you could

use a stiff drink.”

Carl nodded. “A few.”
Riley set a shot glass on the bar and filled it with whiskey then slid it over to Carl. “So, you

wanna talk about it?”

Picking up the shot glass, Carl smiled, “I’m not used to being on this side of that question.” He

tossed back the shot, swallowed hard then sucked in a sharp breath and released it with a hiss. He
cleared his throat. “Damn, that shit is harsh.” He slid the glass toward Carl and cleared his throat a
second time. “Set me up again.”

Riley shook his head and prepared another shot. “Damn. He must’ve done a number on you.”
Carl sniffed and wiped his mouth then took the second shot. It went down a bit more smoothly but

still burned like fuck. He cleared his throat hard and dragged his hand over his mouth again. “One
more.”

“Bad date with the boss?” Riley cocked an eyebrow and filled the shot glass a third time.
Carl sighed and rather than taking the next shot immediately, he twisted it around on the bar. “Yes

and no.” He shook his head then downed the shot. “We’re cool,” he murmured. “Not really anyone’s
fault. I knew what I was getting into and that...” he swallowed thickly, his throat burning from the
whiskey. “That it wouldn’t last very long.”

“So it’s over?”
Carl fingered the empty glass. “Not officially. Come morning, Max will try to smooth everything

out with us.”

“Uh huh,” Riley murmured. “Is that what you want to happen?”
“Fuck,” Carl shrugged. “I don’t know. But if it’s what Max thinks he wants, then I’ll go with it.”

He looked at Riley. “I’d do anything for Max. He’s the best. He’s always been here for us, no matter
what. I’d go through hell and back for him.”

Nodding, Riley murmured, “Yeah, Max is a good guy.”
“How exactly do you know him?” Carl asked.
The phone rang before Riley could answer. “Excuse me.” He left to answer the call and Carl

dropped his gaze to the empty shot glass. The bottle of whiskey was still sitting on the bar and Carl
contemplated one more shot.

“What the fuck,” he muttered after a few long moments and reached for the bottle but withdrew his

hand when Riley reappeared before him. “That was fast.” Riley handed him a piece of paper with a
number scrawled on it. Carl frowned. “What’s this?”

“A cell number,” Riley said. “The call was for you. He asked you to text back to this number.”
“For me?” Carl’s frown deepened. “Who was it?”
Riley replied, “He said his name was Seth.”
“Seth?” Carl looked at the cell number; why the hell would Seth be calling for him?

***

Seth slowly closed the cell phone and waited. The bartender had said Carl was there, but Seth hadn’t
wanted to try and talk to him on the club phone, over the din of the music and noise. Seth stared out
the large window in Horatio’s living room. Night had settled in and the city lights sparkled and
glowed a myriad of colors. Seth’s brow tightened as his mind drifted elsewhere. Why was Carl at the
club if he wasn’t working? Wouldn’t he have been with Max tonight?

Setting his phone to vibrate, Seth walked back to the bedroom and stood in the doorway. Horatio

was still asleep, and it wouldn’t surprise him if the man slept all the way through till morning. It
would be good for him; he needed the rest, both physically and emotionally.

Horatio’s sound slumber remained even after Seth had left the bed. He just needed to hear

“Max” tell him he was still here, that he hadn’t left him . Seth wondered if he should be feeling
jealousy or anger or even an abundance of hurt over the fact that Horatio still longed for Max after

assuring Seth it was safe to fall in love with him. But he couldn’t bring himself to feel any of that. His
heart hurt at the thought of what “could have been” under other circumstances, but most of all it ached
for these two men who so deeply and desperately loved one another...and had been cheated out of a
lifetime together.

And for what? Seth thought sadly. Horatio’s dad had gotten the facts wrong. Just one simple

paternity test and he would have had the truth – and Max and Horatio wouldn’t have lost out on the
last twenty years or suffered all of this unnecessary anguish.

One fucking test. Why didn’t you have it done? Was it out of guilt that you just accepted that

Max might be your son?

The cell hummed against his palm. Seth looked at the I.D. of the caller; Carl.
Tears formed as Seth shifted his gaze to Horatio and for a moment he just watched him sleeping.

“It’s time to stop running,” he whispered. “You’re going home, Horatio, where you belong.” He
wiped a tear from his cheek, his throat knotting up tight. “So get ready, baby. Your Happy Ever After
awaits.”

~~~

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

Love’s Life Sentence

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

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17

Phoenix Club 14 Maxwell 2 Trial By Fire C J Bishop

Document Outline