GABRIEL

“Heroes and Villains”

C. J. B I S H O P

Chapter One

Reluctant Farewell

The vibration of his cell phone on the night stand jerked Horatio from his sleep with a start. His

hand shot out instinctively and he answered the phone before the fog of slumber had cleared and he

could consider if it was even a call he wanted to take. “Hello?” his voice was heavy, throat dry, thick

with sleep.

When silence met him, he thought maybe the caller had hung up. He glanced at his phone, and

seeing Max’s name, his heartbeat quickened as it always did. “Max? Is that you?”

“Yeah, sorry,” Max murmured, “I forgot that it was probably the middle of the night wherever

you’re at.”

Horatio cleared his throat and glanced at Seth, asleep face down on the pillow next to him, his

black hair messed with locks fallen across his brow into his closed eyes. Was it possible to be in

love with two men at the same time? “It’s okay,” he said quietly, “Is everything okay?”

He listened while Max relayed the events of Angel’s assault. Horatio hadn’t actually met the kid

yet, but he was one of Max’s boys and therefore mattered to Horatio because he matter to Max.

“Fuck,” he breathed, sick at heart and feeling Max’s anguish in the man’s voice. “Is he all right?”

“Yeah,” Max murmured, “He’ll be okay. Maddy’s taking it hard though. He’s really scared,

knowing that bastard is out walking free.”

“I bet,” Horatio scooted up and leaned against the headboard of the bed. “Poor kid.” That night at

Max’s, the man had told him Angel and Maddy’s story. The boys had already been through hell, they

didn’t need any more grief.

“Yeah, it’s tough,” Max whispered, “But he’s a tough kid. He has to be to have endured all he’s

been through already.”

Horatio sighed, “I’m really sorry, Max. It seems like you’re boys are getting the shitty end of the

stick every time they turn around.”

“Seems that way.” There was dejected note to Max’s voice that pulled at Horatio’s heart. The

man sounded alone. Even lost to some degree.

“Are you going to be okay?” Horatio asked softly, his throat tightening.

Max cleared his throat. “Yeah,” he rasped, then added, “I don’t know if you got my text, but you

left your wallet at the club. It’s in the safe. If you want, I can send it to you…or you can pick it up

when you get back. Whatever you want.”

Considering the last thing he saw in the club, Horatio wasn’t sure he could walk through those

doors again. Maybe it was hypocritical of him not to want to see Max with someone else–what with

Seth right here beside him. But though Max knew he was with other men, Horatio had never brought

them around and thrown it in his face. The closest Max came to seeing him with someone–was Abel.

And even then, Max never as much as seen Horatio kiss the boy. Horatio wanted Max to be happy, to

have a full life–he just didn’t want to be there to observe another man receiving everything he himself

had dreamed of from the moment he’d fallen in love with Max. It was just much easier to be happy for

him from a distance. A long distance.

“I’ll, uh…just have a courier come by and pick it up.” Horatio said thickly. “I don’t know for

sure when I’ll be back in the city.”

“Well, whatever you want,” Max said quietly, and though he tried to hide it–a note of

disappointment as well. Normally that would be all it took to send Horatio running straight back to

the man. But things had changed, quite suddenly. A part of Max might want him there, but Horatio had

seen the way he’d taken Carl in his arms, the tenderness that had passed between them. He would be

good for Max, but it would only work if Horatio stayed out of the picture–and far, far away from the

club.

“Thanks for letting me know I left it at the club.” Horatio winced, the words sounding lame even

to his own ears.

“Yeah, well, no problem,” Max mumbled. “I should…let you go. I’m sorry for waking you up.”

“It’s okay,” Horatio was suddenly at a loss for words; once they ended this call…how much time

would pass before they spoke again? I should let you go. There seemed to be much more behind

those words than simply hanging up the phone. Horatio’s eyes stung. Don’t, Max. But when he looked

again at Seth, recalled the promise he’s made to the young man that it was safe for him to invest his

heart in Horatio–he knew that letting go was exactly what Max, and himself, needed to do.

“I got to take Maddy home,” Max murmured absently, the line remained opened and Horatio

could feel him wanting to say more. Though he craved each and every word Max spoke, he

understood that maybe this time it was his turn to be the one to do what had to be done.

Rather than encouraging Max to speak his mind, and pull them both back into each other, he

simply said, “Okay. I hope the boys will be all right. And I guess…I’ll talk to you later.”

“Yeah,” Max whispered with a strain of emotion.

“Goodbye, Max,” Horatio barely caught the break in his voice before it cracked his words, and

swallowed hard. He bit his lip as his throat knotted and tears filled his eyes. Just hang up the phone,

Max. Don’t make me say anything else and reveal how much this is hurting me.

“Goodbye, Horatio,” Max wasn’t as adept at catching the emotional disruption of his tone and it

cut through Horatio’s heart as the call ended and he was left in silence.

He slowly closed his phone and set it aside then looked down at Seth, tears running down his

face; was he already betraying the boy by still feeling such pain over Max? Had he made a mistake in

giving Seth the green light to go forward?

No. You didn’t make a mistake. You lost Max twenty years ago, and deep down you know it’s

true. You’ve been chasing a ghost for two decades –it’s time you starting living in the real world,

with a flesh and blood lover.

Horatio wiped the tears from his face then slid down in the bed and wrapped his arm around

Seth. The boy shifted in his sleep, a soft smile quirking his lips as he snuggled up closer to Horatio’s

nude body, his arms slipping around Horatio as a gentle sigh drifted up his throat. He drew the young

man deep into his embrace and kissed his hair; this right here was where he belonged now.

Max was his distant past.

Seth was his future.

♦

Dane came upon Max just outside of the hospital entrance as the man was closing his phone and

tucking it away. He stood back for a moment as Max wiped quick at his eyes, unaware he was being

watched, and cleared his throat a couple times before taking a deep breath then releasing it slow. It

didn’t take a genius to figure out just who he had been on the phone with; there was only one man in

existence that could affect Max on such a deep emotional level.

His heart broke for the man and having learned the details of their situation, only made it that

much worse. Max and Horatio were truly star-crossed lovers.

Max turned then stopped short, startled. “Dane,” his voice was thick with tears and he cleared

his throat yet again. “I didn’t hear you come out. How long have you…”

His lips tight, Dane smiled and raised an eyebrow. “Not long enough to eavesdrop, if that’s what

you’re worried about.”

Sighing, Max dropped his stare to the concrete walk. “He…left his wallet at the club,” he

explained, though Dane hadn’t asked him to. “I was just letting him know it was there. And to tell him

what was going on with Angel.”

“Does he know Angel?”

“No,” Max glanced at him anxiously, then exhaled hard and shook his head, “You think I was just

using that as an excuse to call him?” he murmured, eyes darting away then sticking to the ground

again.

“Well I don’t really see how it’s any of my business either way,” Dane pointed out gently. The

transition Max was trying to make in his life was pulling at him from both directions, threatening to

tear him apart.

“Do you…” Max pressed his lips tight, throat working. “Do you think less of me, Dane…after

knowing everything?” A thin wall of tears rose in the man’s eyes as he continued to stare blankly at

the concrete. “Do you think I should have been stronger…and resisted Horatio at all costs?”

Dane approached him and wrapped his arms around him, hugging him close. “You’re really

asking me these questions?” he whispered in his ear, voice thick. “You fell in love with him before

you were given the facts. And once two hearts lock into each other, there’s no undoing it, no erasing

the feelings.”

Sliding his arms around Dane’s body, Max pressed his face to his shoulder. “I have to let him

go,” he choked quietly, unevenly.

“I know,” Dane murmured and tightened his arms.

The man trembled in his embrace. “It’s so fucking hard to do, Dane.”

He kissed his neck softly and rubbed his back. “I know, babe.”

Warm tears seeped through the shoulder of Dane’s shirt. “Sometimes…I just wish this life would

get over with,” he shuddered, “It’s been hurting for twenty fucking years and I don’t know how to

make it stop.”

Dane drew back but didn’t release him. “Are you having second thoughts about Carl?”

“No,” Max answered quickly, without hesitation, his eyes glassy with tears. “Carl is amazing.”

He ducked his head, his tongue sliding slowly across his lower lip. “When I’m with him, he eases the

pain. Even helps me forget for a while. The problem is…”

“When you’re alone, it all comes back?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s going to be that way, for a while anyway,” Dane said softly. “It isn’t going to just go away

with one passionate kiss from another guy.”

Max raised his eyes tentatively. “We didn’t just kiss.”

“I know,” Dane chuckled low. “But even that isn’t going to erase it immediately–regardless how

good it was.” He rubbed his lips together and smiled, trying to draw Max away from thoughts of

Horatio and the hurt in his heart. “It was good…right?” he shrugged, “I mean, just looking at Carl, I

gotta say…I would be willing to bet he’s one hell of a fantastic lover.”

A slow smile played at the corners of Max’s mouth and he cocked his head a little. “Umm,” he

laughed softly, “He is…for sure.”

“That’s always a plus,” Dane mused and finally released him. “So when are you two going to,

uh…” he chuckled, “Get together again?”

“We were supposed to have a date tonight,” he admitted.

“Supposed to?”

“We made plans before I got the call about Angel,” he said, “So we postponed it.”

Dane stuffed his hands in his pocket and looked at Max. “Well un-postpone it,” he said, “I’ll stay

with Maddy. I was going to anyway.” He smiled, “Go out, have fun for once. Take a night off from

worrying about everything and everyone. Angel’s safe, Maddy’s safe. Go out and get your groove

on.”

“My groove?” Max arched his brow. “Like I even know what that is anymore. And even if I did,

I doubt I could get it on...”

Dane chuckled, “I bet if I asked Carl, he would say you could get it on just fine.”

Max groaned and Dane laughed low. But when Max met his eyes again, there was a new shadow

of concern. “Did you hear back from Gabe?”

That same concern was nagging Dane’s mind. “No,” he murmured.

“Why didn’t you want Gabe to go over to Cole’s?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not blind, Dane,” Max said, “I saw how quickly you intercepted when Gabe offered to go

the first time.” He looked at Dane intently. “What is going on?”

Exhaling heavily, it was Dane’s turn to drop his eyes to the ground. “When Cole and I went to

Gabe’s apartment…” He faltered, his chest hurting, stomach grinding. He raised his eyes slowly, “We

found incriminating evidence…”

“Of what?”

Dane licked his lips and whispered thickly, “That Gabe is having sex with another man.”

Chapter Two

No Escape

This was the third time the cell went off, buzzing and vibrating against the top of the bar. Cole

ignored it as he nursed what had to be his fourth, possibly fifth, glass of beer–he hadn’t bothered to

count, not giving a fuck how many it was. He hadn’t intended to come to work, but found that being

along in his apartment was beginning to formulate thoughts in his head that had actually started to

scare him.

The phone buzzed again and Carl looked at him. “If you’re not going to get that, then let me.”

Cole shrugged and raised the glass to his lips. “Knock yourself out,” he mumbled. He knew who

it was without looking at the display; sometimes Dane was like an annoyingly worrisome parent. And

frankly, Cole didn’t want to talk to him. The first thing the man would ask about would be Gabe. And

Cole sure as fuck didn’t want to talk about him. Ever fucking again.

Grabbing up the phone, Carl answered it. “You’ve reached Cole’s phone, how may I help you?”

Cole glanced at him but then twisted around on his stool, uninterested in the bartender’s

conversation with Dane. He studied the crowd with dull eyes. If nothing else, the club, and his job–it

provided adequate distraction when a man was hurting like fuck. For the first time ever, he wished the

octopus were here tonight. The man might have likely gotten what he’d always wanted if he’d

propositioned Cole on this night.

But Ryland wasn’t here. Figures, he thought sourly, when I actually want him here, he’s

nowhere around. In fact, now that he thought about it, he hadn’t seen the man since he’d collected on

their little deal. One which he hadn’t felt privy to tell Gabe about, because…well, because he had

been under the mistaken impression the motherfucker had actually loved him and might be upset if

he’d known Cole had slithered all over the guy in the raw. No sex had taken place, but the man had

filled a few condoms. Cole had never met a guy who could come so often in such a short period of

time.

“Hey, Cole?”

Cole turned his head half way, not really looking at Carl, certain he knew what the man would

say. “Yeah?”

“Dane insists on talking to you.”

He shook his head and turned away again. “Tell him I’m still breathing and didn’t slit my

wrists.” He sighed and mumbled absently, “No need to worry. I’m doing fan-fucking-tastic.”

“Uh huh,” Carl murmured doubtfully, then spoke into the phone to Dane.

Cole left the bar and wandered out onto the floor. Maybe someone out here would strike the right

nerve. Fuck, if the guy played his cards right, he might even get laid. Cole was a single man again,

might as well make good use of his freedom to fuck anyone he chose.

He was half way across the floor, swallowed in the crowd, when a hand grabbed his ass. Cole

smiled and turned around, surprised to see Faron Ryland in the sea of customers after all.

“Hey, beautiful,” Faron’s lips twisted and curved as his eyes crawled all over Cole’s body.

“How about you and I—”

Cole grabbed his arm and ushered him off the floor before he could complete his proposition. He

let go of his arm and dropped his hand to the man’s ass. Though the club was loud, he still caught the

pleased–mmmm–that rolled up the man’s throat.

Rather than take him to a booth, Cole directed him towards the VIP room. Faron smiled, “I’m

liking this side of you, Cole.”

Cole smiled dryly, squeezed his ass and pushed him up the few steps into the room, then closed

the door behind them. Faron walked deeper into the room and looked around. Walking to the stereo,

Cole told him, “Get naked.”

“What?” The obvious shock in the man’s voice brought a smile to Cole’s lips. He turned around.

“Did I stutter?” He stared at Faron with heavy bedroom eyes that swelled the man’s crotch to

powerful proportions right then and there. “This is your lucky night, baby. So you better just do as

you’re told and not pause to ask questions–or I might change my mind.”

“Don’t do that,” Faron murmured with a smile and began to undress.

When he was down to his skivvies, just a pair of white cotton briefs struggling to contain his

erection, Cole walked over and pushed him down in the plush chair and griped the back on either side

of his head, gazing into his eyes. “In a gay strip club,” he whispered close to the man’s mouth, “Do

you know what VIP stands for?”

“What?” Faron breathed, chest heaving.

“Very…” Cole kissed his mouth then dragged his lips down his neck to his chest and nipped a

hard nipple. Faron gasped sharp then moaned with pleasure. “Important…” Cole’s tongue slithered

down the center groove of his abdomen and lower. “Penis.” He bit the man’s cock gently through his

shorts and Faron jerked back hard in unexpected shock, then relaxed and grinned. Cole flashed a cool,

sexy smile and let his tongue trace the contours of the man’s cock, which was already weeping and

dampening the cotton fabric.

Faron slid his fingers into Cole’s hair and dropped his head against the back of the chair,

laughing softly, “Oh fuck, baby. I’m so glad I decided to come tonight.”

Teasing the man’s cock, Cole murmured, “You haven’t come yet…but you will.”

♦

“Cole’s at the club, but Carl says he isn’t in good shape.” Dane approached the elevator, ready to

head back up to Angel’s room. Max leaned against the wall, waiting for him.

“And what about Gabe?” Max asked, “Did Cole say anything about him?”

Dane shook his head. “Carl said he hasn’t been talking, just drinking.”

Max groaned and laced his fingers behind neck. “Fuck.” He looked at Dane. “How incriminating

was the evidence in Gabe’s apartment? Is there any way you could have misinterpreted it?”

Sighing, Dane shook his head slowly. “I don’t think so. There were used condoms in the waste

basket, and another’s man scent on Gabe’s bed.” He sighed again, “And the distinct smell of sex in

the air.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Max frowned, troubled. “Gabe wouldn’t do that to Cole. There has to

be another explanation.”

“I sure as hell wish I could think of one,” Dane said. “But Cole is convinced Gabe’s cheating on

him. So it’s anyone’s guess what happened when Gabe went to Cole’s apartment. All I know is that

Cole did not want to see him. So who knows, maybe he didn’t even let him in.”

“Did you try calling Gabe again?”

Dane nodded, “Yeah. But it just went straight to voice mail again.”

“Dammit,” Max whispered tightly.

“Listen,” Dane said, “Just go on your date with Carl and don’t worry about Cole and Gabe. Cole

is at the club, so he’s fine. And I’ll keep trying to get through to Gabe. But I’m sure he’s fine too. They

probably had a fight, so neither one is going to want to talk much tonight.”

Max looked doubtful. “I don’t know if I’m up for a date tonight.”

“Trust me,” Dane smiled, “Once you’re alone with that smokin’ hot bartender –you’ll be up for

it.”

Shaking his head, Max rolled his eyes and chuckled low, “You’re awful.”

Laughing softly, Dane leaned over and kissed him lightly, “Ah but you love me anyway.”

Max met his eyes and smiled warmly, “I do.”

Stroking the man’s cheek with his thumb, Dane murmured, “Go on your date. You deserve some

Max time. I’ll take care of things at the home front.” He winked, “Maybe Maddy and I will throw a

wild party in your house.”

Max chuckled, “Just clean up after yourselves.”

“Yes, sir,” Dane laughed, “Now go, call someone to fill in for Carl and you two take the night

off. Have a good time.”

“Okay, okay,” Max grinned and pushed away from the wall. “But if anything goes down, you call

me.”

Dane smiled wryly, “The only thing that will be going down–is you and Carl, on each other.”

“You are a bad boy,” Max shook his head and grinned.

“I do try,” Dane sighed then laughed softly and punched the Up button for the elevator as Max

walked away with an exasperated shake of his head.

♦

Everyone had left, and only Maddy remained in Angel’s room as they waited for Dane to return.

Maddy had said very little, but Angel could see the old fear and anxiety hovering behind his dark eyes

once again.

“Everything is going to be fine, Maddy,” Angel said softly and squeezed his hand.

Maddy swallowed hard and stared down at the bed. “I thought it was over,” he whispered, tears

in his voice. “I thought…” he shrugged, “I thought we would never have to see any of them again, that

they could never hurt us again.” Maddy looked up, his eyes swimming and filled with despair. “But

we’re never going to get away from them, are we?”

“What’re you saying, Maddy?” Angel whispered, his throat aching as it squeezed and closed.

“We are away from them.”

“No we’re not,” he choked quietly, “Look at you, Angel–they can just walk into our lives anytime

they want and fuck us up.” Tears coursed down his face. “We will never be free.”

“Maddy…” Angel swallowed hard.

“I should have…” his chin trembled. “I should have just used that stupid gun on myself.”

“Maddy!” Angel choked out. “Don’t ever say that. Don’t ever think it.”

“Why?” he cried, “It’s true. I’d rather be dead than…” He stared at Angel, eyes wide with fear,

tears streaking his face. “Than be raped by Byrd!” He broke and Angel grabbed him.

“Hey.” Dane appeared in the doorway in time to catch Maddy’s outburst. He came to the bed and

sat on the edge, rubbing Maddy’s back as he clung to Angel. “That is never going to happen, Maddy. I

promise you, I’ll bury the bastard before I let him anywhere near you.”

Maddy drew back and wiped his face, looking years younger than his fifteen years as fear etched

his face like a small child afraid of a nightmare. “What if he catches me alone,” he whispered thickly,

unsteadily, “Like he did Angel?”

Dane wrapped his arm around his shoulder. “Until he’s caught, or…dealt with,” he said quietly,

“We’re not going to leave you alone. Someone will always be with you.”

“But what if they don’t catch him?” Maddy whispered. His voice shook with the thought that

Byrd might always be out there.

“They will,” Dane assured, then glanced at Angel and murmured, “Or we will.” He squeezed his

arm around Maddy. “He isn’t going to get away with what he did to Angel.” He cocked his head and

looked at him intently, “Okay?”

The boy nodded and seemed to relax beneath Dane’s protective arm and assuring words. Angel

understood; he always felt safe with Dane. Him, Cole and Gabe–they were natural guardians and

protectors. Thoughts of Cole and Gabe laid an added weight on his chest though. He’d seen it in

Gabe, the man was falling apart. And Cole hadn’t even come to the hospital yet. That in itself told

Angel something was terribly wrong. Cole was always right there, as soon as any trouble rose up, or

someone he loved was hurt. For him not to show at all…it terrified Angel and made him sick at heart.

They were losing two of their best. He could feel it, and he hated that feeling.

Chapter Three

How To Deal

“I said get naked.”

Faron Ryland chuckled, “Sorry, baby. You pushed me down before I could shimmy out of my

shorts.”

Backing off, Cole returned to the stereo and turned on an upbeat instrumental song, then began his

performance as he slowly peeled away his shirt. He watched Faron with heavy eyes as the man

slipped off his briefs and tossed them aside, then relaxed back in the chair, legs open, cock rigid and

bobbing with each movement of his body. The tip drooled, clear juice running down the thick shaft.

The man was uncircumcised, but his fierce erection had the head of his cock well exposed from the

foreskin. A fat veil ran down the belly of his dick and Faron began to rub his fingertips up and down

it without gripping his cock–almost petting it. His eyes burned with lust, a slight smirk quirking the

corner of his mouth as he watched Cole’s graceful, artistic strip tease. Except this time–he wasn’t

teasing.

As in a typical session, Cole shed his clothes down to his G-string and stopped there. He swayed

in between Faron’s legs, dipping down and caressing his hands up the man’s thighs, teasing his stiff

cock with his thumbs, grazing his firm ball sack.

“Mmm…” Faron smiled, eyes half closed–then gasped sharply when Cole licked the wet tip of

his dick. “Fuck!” A hard breath burst from him then he grinned as his cock twitched and stretched.

“Fuck, baby, I’ve been waiting for this since the moment I laid eyes on your hot body.” He rubbed his

hands up Cole’s forearms, squeezing his hard muscles, his fingertips pressing in and dragging over

his skin.

Cole rose up a little and brushed his lips across the man’s mouth then teased him with his tongue,

darting in between his lips. Faron opened his mouth a bit wider as his own tongue snaked out and

licked Cole’s.

“Come on,” Faron panted in a whisper, “Tongue fuck my mouth.”

Grinning, Cole slipped his tongue in deeper, stroking across Faron’s as the man latched onto him.

Cole pressed his mouth harder to him as his tongue began to glide back and forth, in and out. Groan

after groan rolled up Faron’s throat and his hands began to wander all over Cole’s body, finding their

way to his ass. He squeezed his cheeks then dipped his fingers into his crack, running his fingertips up

the full line of his crease then down again to nudge his hole around the thin string of the underwear.

When he pushed one digit through the tight ring of muscle, Cole moaned and stabbed his tongue harder

into his mouth.

Faron’s other hand worked its way to Cole’s crotch and rubbed his cock, panting hard. He pulled

back from Cole’s tongue and gasped unsteadily, “Are you going to let me fuck you?” His finger

remained buried deep inside, another one probing the entrance then squeezing in as well. Cole moved

again his invasion, stroking on his fingers.

“That remains to be seen,” he murmured and smiled darkly. He licked Faron’s upper lip. “Give

me another finger.”

“I’m really loving the new you, baby,” Faron inserted a third finger and began to pump him firm

and deep, occasionally grazing his prostrate, giving Cole a shot of blinding ecstasy and hardening his

cock. “Oh fuck, yes, baby,” Faron panted, thrusting into him as he gripped his cock with his other

hand, feeling Cole grow and harden. “Get good and hard for me.”

“Fuck…” Cole squeezed his eyes shut, jaw clenching as he fucked the man’s fingers. But the

instant Faron’s face was blocked from his sight–Gabe’s rose in its place. And everything that came

with him; their touches, kisses, fondling, fucking. Gabe had been his dream lover. Fuck–his

everything.

The scene from the apartment exploded through his head as Gabe had taken what was Cole’s and

given it away like a whore. Cole’s throat squeezed tight and his teeth clamped harder as tears burned

behind his eyelids and pain swept through him in shock waves.

A choking gasp burst from him and he leaned back, spitting in his palm. He coated Faron’s cock

with urgency then he was out of his G-string and on the man before Faron could respond. He didn’t

wait for him to apply a condom–he didn’t care. What the fuck did it matter anymore?

“Uhh!” Faron yelled and grabbed his hips as Cole fucked him erratically, urgently. “Oh my god!”

Cole gripped the back of the plush chair, fingers gouging the soft surface, the excruciating pain in

his heart pushing his body to fuck the man harder, in some desperate hope that perhaps in release, the

pain would ease somehow.

Faron wrapped his arms around Cole’s waist and pulled him tighter against him, thrusting his

hips, driving himself into Cole in a near frenzy. The guy’s face pinched hard, his breath breaking,

puffing. Cole knew Faron Ryland well enough to know when he was about to come. And it didn’t take

much to get him there. He was not a man who could hold his wad.

“Fuck!” Cole gasped and bounced on him hard, wanting him to come–so Cole could turn him

around and give it to him with force. That was where his frustration and pain would be dealt with.

“Fuuuck!” Faron cried and a liquid heat filled Cole’s canal as the guy lost it, pumping his ass

erratically, grunting, and panting until Cole feared he might have a coronary.

Before the orgasm released him completely, Cole stepped off him. “Turn around,” he panted,

“Get on the chair.”

His legs shaky, Faron did as he was told and kneeled on the cushion of the chair and gripped the

back. Cole spit on his own cock a couple times then shoved himself into the man. Faron gasped hard

then choked on a cry but quickly recovered and pushed his ass back onto Cole. The images of Gabe

fucking Quint surged through his mind’s eye as tears rose and burned. He dug his fingers into Faron’s

hips and fucked the guy full force, slamming into him as if attempting to push the pain out of himself

and into the other man.

He didn’t let up until his balls were burning, tightening, churning with cum. Then the orgasm had

him, wrapping around him fiercely and he screamed out loud, pounding Faron’s ass as the guy clung

to the chair, breath wild and erratic as he begged Cole–“Fuck me harder! Harder!”

Cole did, and in seconds unloaded inside him. He bounced off the man’s ass urgently as his

whole body locked and he emptied himself. His thrusts slowed then he stepped back, legs trembling,

head spinning, and heart sick. Nausea welled in his gut as he moved away from the man who

remained hunched over the back of the chair, struggling to breathe. When he finally turned around and

dropped down into the chair, his eyes were heavy with exhaustion, a thoroughly satisfied smile on his

face.

“Oh fuck, baby,” he gasped, “That was so worth the wait.”

Tears blurred Cole’s vision as the man distorted before him. “Get dressed,” Cole mumbled and

turned his back on Faron.

It took the guy a few minutes to get his clothes back on as his legs and hands were still shaking

from Cole’s sexual onslaught. When he finally tucked in his shirt and fastened his pants, he asked,

“How much do I owe you?” He chuckled low, and for some reason Cole wanted to punch him. “Name

your price, baby. ‘Cause no amount is too much for what you just did.”

Cole gripped the counter that held the stereo, hot tears leaking down his face. “I’m not your

fucking baby, so stop calling me that,” he said tightly, “And I didn’t do this for the money.”

“Then what do you want?” Faron’s tone was more subdued in the face of Cole’s attitude shift.

Cole’s throat squeezed, working with emotion. He hung his head and watched the tears drip off

his face and splatter the polished wood counter top. I want to die.

Out loud, he whispered thickly, words breaking, “I want you to leave.”

♦

The irrational fear that Quint would once again be waiting for him at his apartment had kept Gabe

from going home after Cole kicked him out. For a short while, he had turned off his phone as he’d just

sat in his car, parked at the back of some random building, the pain so great all he could do was cry

and pray for the mercy of God to take him from this life. At one point, he’d thrown open the door and

vomited on the pavement, clinging to the steering wheel, head hanging low as he choked on his sobs

and the vile substance.

He had finally turned his phone back on in fear of missing a call from Quint; he couldn’t take the

chance that the man would think he was ignoring him. Quint was a loose cannon, a time bomb. He

could blow at any given time, and the havoc he wreaked would be on those Gabe loved most.

Again, he had messages waiting for him. This time from Dane. He knew what the man was

calling about even before he opened his voice mail. He wanted to know if Gabe was all right, and

what had happened with Cole. Did Dane know any of the things that Cole knew? What would he do

when he found out Cole had caught Gabe in the act of betrayal? Would he lose everyone, as well as

Cole? Would they all feel betrayed?

Rather than call Dane back, Gabe opened a text message instead; ‘Cole and I are over. I’ll be

fine, but please keep an eye on Cole. I’m sorry I fucked up our family harmony. I won’t be coming

around anymore. And please don’t seek me out. Tell everyone I said goodbye. And tell Angel I’m

sorry for leaving, but I had no choice. Take care of the boys. I’ll miss you.’

Tears dripped onto the phone as he slowly pressed send then threw the cell into the passenger

seat and buried his face in his arms on the steering wheel, shaking with sobs.

When he regained some control, he pulled away from the old building and made one last pass by

the Phoenix Club. His home. His foot instinctively eased off the gas as the car rolled slowly down the

street and he watched the men filtering in and out of the entrance as Trevor monitored the customers

and collected the entrance fee. He was shocked to see Cole’s car parked to the side of the club. He

hadn’t expected him to come into work, not tonight. But when Gabe spotted the octopus walking out

of the club, a very satisfied smile on his face–he understood why Cole was here…and what he had

done.

Tears flowed as he thought of Cole with another man. But he was hurting like hell, and he didn’t

understand what had really been taking place at Gabe’s apartment. This was his way of dealing, and

Gabe wouldn’t judge him on it.

I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry I gave you no choice. Forgive me, Cole.

Gabe pressed on the gas and ushered the car away from the club, away from his life–and the love

of his life who was inside that building right now, hating himself for what he’d done. Despite Cole’s

right to deal with this as he pleased…he would be sickened by his course of action. That was just

Cole.

Chapter Four

Lending A Hand

“We don’t have to do this tonight,” Carl said, “If you’d rather just go home, be with Maddy.”

The car sat silent outside the club, Max in the passenger seat. “No, I want to.” He looked at Carl

and smiled. “If I go home, I’ll just stress and worry all night about far too many things.”

His eyebrow sliding up in a very sexy manner, Carl murmured, “So you’re saying you need some

major distractions?”

“I do. Yes,” Max confirmed.

“Something along the line of…” Carl slid his arm across Max’s shoulder then leaned over and

kissed him, allowing the kiss to draw out. He panted softly when he pulled back and whispered,

“That?”

“Mm-hm,” Max’s breath puffed from his lips, “Exactly that.”

“Well then I do believe I’m the man for the job,” Carl smiled and straightened up, starting the

car.

Max nodded, “I’ve no doubt.” He tried to close his mind to things that were out of his control

concerning Cole and Gabe, and also trust that Angel and Maddy would be kept out of harm’s way

from now on–and turned his collective thoughts to the man beside him. As he studied him in the

shadows of the car, his face and arms tinted green from dashboard lights, the recollection of the man’s

touch came back full force and Max’s body responded accordingly.

He shifted in his seat and Carl glanced at him and smiled, “You all right?”

“Yeah,” Max was a bit startled at the sudden rasp to his voice. A rasp Carl didn’t miss. His right

hand left the steering wheel and extended over, his palm flattening on Max’s thigh and squeezing

firmly. Max leaned his head back, breath quickening a little. He covered Carl’s hand and slowly

moved it to his rising member, beginning to strain the crotch of his pants. “Mmm,” he moaned softly,

eyes closing as Carl took over, massaging his package. “Fuck,” Max murmured, “You have wonderful

hands.”

Carl pushed his hand deeper between Max’s thighs and fingered his balls through the fabric of

his trousers, the heel of his hand working Max’s hardening cock. His breath puffed harder as he

slowly rocked his hips against the man’s touch. With unsteady hands, Max unfastened his pants and

slid down the zipper. Carl worked his fingers under the elastic waistband of Max’s briefs and

burrowed deep down inside, finding his erection thick, hard and pulsing with need. Carl smiled and

wrapped his fingers around his cock. “Very nice,” he whispered.

In sudden desperate need to be thoroughly stroked, Max shoved down the front of his pants and

briefs, releasing himself and giving Carl full rein and access.

Keeping his eyes on the street ahead, Carl skillfully worked his hand up and down Max’s shaft.

“Fuck…” Max breathed and pressed his head back against the seat, lifting his hips. “God, that

feels so fucking good.”

Carl smiled, squeezed a little, and pulled his hand slowly up the length of Max’s cock, rubbing

the pad of his thumb across the leaking tip, massaging the bulbous head. Max jerked, a stiff groan

jumping free.

The street lights turned red and the car rolled to a stop at the intersection, the headlights of the

other vehicles glinting off the windshield and illuminating Carl’s face, reflecting in his eyes. Without

any warning, Carl twisted in his seat and dropped down, taking Max’s cock in his mouth.

“Fuck!” Max jerked back against the seat, gripping the passenger door, his breath instantly erratic

as the man’s warm, slick, tight mouth moved up and down his throbbing shaft. Max gripped Carl’s

hair with his left hand, panting, groaning, lifting his hips and thrusting with the rhythm of Carl’s

stroking. “Fuck…Carl…” Max’s jaw clenched as Carl sucked and squeezed, his velvet tongue doing

things to his dick that would surely send him over the edge in no time. “Oh my god…fuck…uuhh…”

He squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his lips tight, his heart pounding as the man sucked him to

heaven and back.

The light turned green and Max groaned in agony. He ran a shaky hand down Carl’s back. “The

light…it’s green,” he panted, the words barely off his lips before the cars behind them began to honk

impatiently.

Carl gripped his cock tightly in his mouth and slowly sucked up to the head, squeezed the crown

with his strong lips then released him, rising up to kiss his mouth. “To be continued,” he murmured

breathlessly, then smiled, settled himself behind the wheel again and moved on down the street as his

hand returned to Max’s saliva coated member and continued to stroke.

Soft moans sifted out of Max as his head lay back on the seat, his eyes closed. He was ready to

forego all the other formalities of the date and head straight to bed, but he resisted voicing the

suggestion; he wanted to experience every aspect of this date. In reality, he had never in his life gone

on a formal date. His and Horatio’s romance had been kept under wraps for the most part, seeing each

other privately, in secret–mostly because they hadn’t been certain how others would react. But they

hadn’t minded keeping it quiet. They loved being together, alone, shutting the world outside their own

lovely existence.

What the fuck are you doing? Max almost gasped–and not from the things Carl’s hand was doing

to him. What’re you doing thinking about him? Reminiscing right “now”–are you serious?

Carl released him when they arrived at the restaurant, parked then shut off the car. He looked at

Max then dropped his eyes to his lap. “Well, we better do something about that before we go on

inside,” he smiled and winked, “Don’t want anyone getting a glimpse of what you’re concealing in

there–and try to steal you away from me.”

“We certainly don’t want that,” Max murmured, voice thick, heavy with want.

Carl chuckled softly and leaned over, going down on him once more.

♦

Ricky didn’t recognize the man behind the bar. He was younger than Carl with deep auburn hair

and bright chestnut eyes that were friendly and peered out from beneath a strong brow. He looked

somewhat like a sculpture come to life, body of a god and every exposed muscle perfectly honed as if

special attention were given to each and every one. The man had to work out–that was the only

plausible explanation for such finely proportioned muscles.

When Ricky sat down, the man smiled, flashing perfectly white, straight teeth. No human being

should be this flawless, Ricky mused. Where the hell did Max find this guy? Not that Carl wasn’t a

sight to look at, but this guy…damn.

“What can I get ya?”

Ricky winked, “Your name, number and an open invitation.”

The guy chuckled and winked back. “Be careful what you wish for.”

Laughing, Ricky offered his hand. “I’m Ricky.”

The man took his offer. “Riley.”

“Ricky and Riley,” Ricky’s lips twitched. “Sounds like we go together.”

“Kind of sounds like we’re twins,” Riley observed.

“If we were,” Ricky smiled, “Then I would want us to take after you. I always wanted to be hot

as hell.” He chuckled, “Then again, twins don’t work for me, ‘cause then I’d have to feel weird about

these naughty thoughts in my head.”

Riley laughed, “Why do I get the feeling you flirt with all the boys this way?”

“Hmm. Couldn’t say.” Riley laughed again and Ricky decided he liked that about him as well.

When he turned around, Ricky grabbed a quick look at his backside. Tight black slacks squeezing his

perfectly sculpted ass, able to see each and every flex of glute muscle as the man moved around.

Fuck.

“You know,” Riley faced him again and set a chilled glass of beer before him, then leaned on his

elbows. “I get compliments on my ass.”

Ricky chuckled, “As you should. It’s quite lovely indeed.”

“So tell me, Ricky,” the man smirked, “You got a main squeeze?”

Ricky chuffed and shook his head. “Fuck no. Relationships are too much drama.”

“So you’re just in it for the fuck, huh?” Riley winked and grinned.

Shrugging, Ricky chuckled, “That’s me. Take me or leave me.”

“Is that an invitation?”

Cocking his head, Ricky smiled, “Take it however you want to take it.”

An arm suddenly snaked around his neck, locking him against a shoulder as lips kissed his ear.

“Take him home,” Levi said to Riley, “I guarantee–you won’t be disappointed. This is one hot little

fuck.”

“Get off me,” Ricky wriggled free of his arm.

“A little temperamental as well,” he chuckled, then smirked, “With emphasis on the mental.”

“Fuck you,” Ricky mumbled, his good will towards the guy from back at the hospital dissipating

as Levi reverted back to his old self.

“Been there, done that,” Levi winked at Riley.

Ricky rolled his eyes. “Who haven’t you done?”

“Well isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black.”

Standing behind him, viewable only in the mirror behind the bar, Ashton laughed. What were

these two–joined at the crotch? He rarely saw Levi any more without Ashton attached. He didn’t

respond, feeling suddenly irritated and struggling to pin down the exact cause. But when it finally

came to him, he tried to deny it and push it down, bury it. Why should he give a shit that Levi

suggested Riley take him home and fuck him?

When Ricky refused to be goaded into any further banter, Levi and Ashton migrated to the

dressing rooms to get ready for work. He forced himself not to watch them in the mirror as they

walked away, despising the twisting of his guts and the burning in his loins.

“He’s cute,” Riley winked.

“Who?” Ricky knew full well who he meant–everyone thought Levi was cute. And dammit, he

was. He had a soft innocent look about him that totally clashed with his promiscuous lifestyle. And

those damnable puppy dog eyes more often than not got him his way.

“The shorter, adorable one.”

Ricky snorted, “I wasn’t aware either was all that adorable.”

“Sure,” Riley smirked.

“What?”

“I think,” Riley leaned close and tapped Ricky on the tip of his nose with his fingertip, “That

you’ve got a little crush on cutie pie.”

“Oh my god,” Ricky groaned and shook his head. Not this guy too. Fuck. Where did these people

get their notions?

Riley laughed, “Aww admit it.” He touched his heart and winked. “I promise, I won’t tell.”

“There’s nothing to tell,” Ricky muttered and twisted around on the stool.

“I’m sorry,” Riley relented. “I won’t tease you anymore…seeing how this is such a sensitive

subject for you.” There remained a smirk in his voice.

Ricky glanced over his shoulder at the guy. “It’s not sensitive at all. I just don’t have a crush on

the guy.”

Licking his lips slowly, Riley cocked an eyebrow and shot a quick look at Ricky’s crotch. “Tell

that to little Ricky.”

Dropping his gaze, Ricky stared at his bulging pants, leaned back on his elbows and cocked his

head. “Who said he’s little?”

Chapter Five

Time to Hold, Time to Let Go

“Can I ask you something?” Carl raised the glass of wine to his lips, gazing over the rim at Max.

The restaurant was elegant, dimly lit with candles on the tables, soft instrumental music sifting

through the air. They had finished their dinner and now sat sipping wine and making casual

conversation. Though he greatly desired Carl, it felt good to Max to just sit here in a normal romantic

atmosphere and enjoy one another.

“Of course,” Max nodded.

Carl smiled and reached his left hand across the small table with the sleek tablecloth and slipped

his fingers into Max’s palm. “When was the last time you were out on a romantic date with a man?”

Lowering his eyes to Carl’s hand, he squeezed it gently. “This is my first.”

“That can’t be true,” Carl murmured and set his glass on the table.

Max glanced up. “I do not lie,” he smiled warmly.

“How is it a man as handsome and charming as you have gone all of your life without one single

romantic date?”

Max shrugged absently, uncomfortable with where this line of conversation was taking him.

Under other circumstances, he and Horatio would have had scores of romantic dates–Horatio was a

true, old fashioned romantic at heart. “Guess I got busy with other aspects of life.”

“That’s a long time to be busy.”

Lifting an eyebrow, Max’s lips twisted. “Are you implying I’m old?”

Carl chuckled softly, “No, not by any means. But even so, that is still a long time without a

romantic date.”

“Yeah, I suppose,” Max murmured, “But not everyone needs romance to feel fulfilled.” He

regretted the words as soon as they were out; would Carl take that to mean he didn’t really want a

relationship with him?

But the man wasn’t fazed. He brought Max’s hand to his lips and kissed it lightly. “I disagree. I

think everyone needs it, whether they admit it or not.” He smiled, his lips lingering against the back of

Max’s hand. “And a man like you, Maxwell Raines, was born for romance.”

“How do you figure?”

Carl weaved his fingers through Max’s. “Because of the way you touch me,” he murmured, gaze

intent on Max’s face. “A naturally born romantic has a special touch, very tender, very loving and

gentle. When they touch their lover, it is their natural desire to bring that person the utmost pleasure

and sense of love and belonging.” He kissed Max’s fingertips one at a time. “And that is how you

touch me.”

The man’s words pulled at his heart; Horatio used to praise Max’s touch. “I can’t imagine all of

that coming out of fingertips,” Max said quietly, as perplexed with Carl’s reaction to his touch as he

had been of Horatio’s.

“It’s true,” Carl smiled. He stood up, still holding Max’s hand, and drew Max to his feet. “Will

you dance with me?”

Max was sure there were at least some of the patrons of the restaurant who didn’t enjoy seeing

two men dance together, or even share a romantic dinner with one another–such people were

everywhere–but Max didn’t care. Fuck ‘em, they could look the other way. At this point in his life, he

was immune to the looks and shitty attitudes. He followed Carl to the small open floor space reserved

for the occasional couple who wished to add romance to their evening with dancing.

There was no hesitation in Carl when he urged Max closer, slipping his arms around his waist.

Carl was a few inches taller than Max, which made his shoulder the perfect height for Max’s head to

rest comfortably against as he wrapped his arms around his neck. Carl tightened his embrace and their

bodies swayed gently to the soft music. “I’ve wanted to dance with you like this for a very long time,

Max,” Carl whispered. “I really didn’t think I would ever have the chance.”

“You should have asked sooner,” Max murmured and closed his eyes, breathing in the man’s

mild cologne which slowly consumed him, warming his body in every way imaginable.

Carl smiled against his ear. “I couldn’t take the thought of rejection. I don’t handle it so well.”

He laughed softly and kissed Max’s neck. “I would have probably cried like a baby if you’d shot me

down.”

“Somehow I doubt you’ve experienced much rejection.”

Chuckling low, Carl rubbed his lips against Max’s ear. “Not much. But I had yet to approach you.

And you mattered more than all the rest combined.”

Max pressed his lips to Carl’s shoulder. “Why?” he asked quietly, sincerely.

“I don’t know,” Carl said, “There was just something about you right from the start. That first day

when I walked into the club to see if you were hiring, and got a look at you,” he shook his head and

laughed low, “My knees went all rubbery and, well…other parts got a tad stiff.”

Max grinned and sighed, “Well, I can’t say you didn’t affect me too. You were certainly one

beautiful sight to behold. Although I was really hoping you were there to sign on as a dancer. I really

wanted to see you on stage.”

“I told you I’m no exotic dancer,” he chuckled.

“Well, when we were on top of the bar,” Max groaned, “You could have fooled me.”

“With you,” Carl whispered sensually, “I wouldn’t even mind getting onstage.”

Such images filled up Max’s head, heating his body to a greater temperature and he pushed closer

to Carl’s body, feeling both his own and Carl’s prominent arousals. “That could be arranged,” he

murmured.

A soft, slightly raspy laugh bubbled in Carl’s throat and he kissed Max’s neck, his warm lips

playing across the sensitive skin. Max groaned and tilted his head a little.

“You taste so good,” Carl’s soft tongue touched his neck, inciting a fierce erection in Max’s

pants as he recalled the recent sensations of the man’s mouth on him, doing wonderfully dirty things to

him. Carl rubbed his hands slowly up and down his back then let them rest on his hips, his fingertips

pressing into the upper swell of Max’s butt cheeks.

The romantic evening was enchanting, but Max knew if they didn’t get out of there soon–he might

embarrass himself. When he shifted in Carl’s arms, his crotch brushing firmly against the other man’s,

Carl laughed softly, “Maybe we should go?” He drew back and kissed Max on the mouth. “You

think?”

“Yeah,” Max’s breath puffed softly from his lips.

Rather than rent an impersonal room, Max suggested they go to Carl’s place. He’d never once set

foot in the man’s apartment in all the years he’d been working at the Phoenix. But Max had the

sudden, driving need to make love to Carl in his bed, between his sheets.

His apartment was nice, much bigger than Max expected. He smiled as he surveyed the man’s

expensive entertainment set up, leather sofa and easy chairs, and brass lamps. Everything in the

apartment was high quality. “You can afford all this on what I pay you?”

Carl shrugged and grinned, “I get tips as well.”

“This many tips?”

Carl chuckled, “Well, I spent nearly every waking minute at the club, so the money accumulates.

It affords me a nice setup.” He laughed softly, “Not that I’m ever here to make use of it.”

Max looked at him. “You know, I can hire on another steady bartender for you alternate shifts

with. It would give you some free time for yourself.”

Shrugging, Carl said, “Nah. I like being at the club. I wouldn’t know what to do with free time.”

He rubbed his lips together and smiled, approaching Max. “Well…I know what to do with this free

time.” He gripped Max’s waist and kissed him warmly. “Free time with you I could do with more

of.”

Max fingered the buttons of Carl’s shirt. “Well, we could talk to the boss about such an

arrangement.”

“Think he’d go for it?” Carl murmured and brushed his lips against Max’s mouth.

“I think he’d be open to the possibility,” Max whispered and kissed him wantonly, sliding his

arms around his body.

“Want to see my bed?” Carl groaned and smiled, “It’s really big…and really comfortable.”

“I do,” Max released a shaky breath.

The man hadn’t lied–the bed was a beauty and was positioned before a large single-paned

window that looked out over the city. Their reflections in the glass were as vivid as images in a

mirror as Carl led him to the Texas king then urged Max to lie down. The deep blue comforter was

thick, plush, and of a sleek satin material. Carl laid down on top of him, both of them still fully

clothed, and stroked his fingertips through Max’s hair at his temples, just gazing into his green eyes.

“I want to say something, Max,” he murmured, “And I need you to hear me.”

Max rubbed his hands up Carl’s back. “I’m listening.”

His tongue wetting his lips, Carl spoke with a strain of emotion in his voice, “I know that right

now you think this is what you want. That…I’m perhaps what you want.” He caressed the back of his

fingers on Max’s cheeks. “But I also know how deeply embedded Horatio Kaplan is in your heart.

How…in love you are with the man. And I’m fully aware of the risk that you will decide to go back

to him. I understand that a man can’t just turn his heart off just because he might want to.”

“I’m not going back to him,” Max whispered thickly, eyes stinging, “I can’t.”

Carl nodded slowly. “I’m just saying…if it came to that, I would understand. I’ll take every

second you give to me, even if it’s borrowed time.”

“No,” Max shook his head, “It isn’t, Carl. I swear to you,” Tears pooled, “There’s nothing for me

there.” He tightened his arms around the man. “I don’t want to talk about him. It’s over. For good.

There’s no way back to what Horatio and I once had together. It’s in the distant past.”

Carl kissed him then slid his thumb across his lower lip. “I’m barely holding on right now, Max,”

he whispered, “If I let go, I will fall into you so deep that I won’t ever get out again. Tell me, Max? Is

it safe for me to let go?”

Yes. But the word stuck in his throat, a swelling knot holding it down. Horatio was forever out of

his reach, he knew this, had known it for two decades–so why was his answer to Carl’s question

sticking, holding back? When he didn’t answer right away, Carl nodded and kissed him softly.

“I understand,” he murmured, “Maybe I’ll hold on a little longer.”

A shadow of anguish briefly darkened the man’s blue/gray eyes; he wanted Max to give him the

green light, to tell him it was safe to fall in love. And Max wanted to tell him to let go, jump, that he

would catch him. But the words wouldn’t come, and something in that quiet reality frightened Max;

would he ever be able to let go of Horatio?

Max wasn’t aware of the tear slipping from the corner of his eye until Carl wiped it away. “It’s

okay, Max,” he kissed him softly, “We’ll just take this one step at a time. We don’t have to figure it

all out tonight.” He kissed him again. “Tonight, I just want to make love to you.”

“I want that too,” Max slowly tugged Carl’s shirt from the waist of his pants and pushed his

hands underneath, rubbing his warm, firm muscles. A low burning ache began to seep through him,

infecting Carl as well. They slowly stripped one another down until they were lying on the satin

comforter, skin against skin. Max kissed Carl hard then had the man turn onto his stomach as he kissed

every inch of exposed skin, lingering at his beautiful, taut back side, teasing him with his tongue,

pleasuring him with his fingers until the man begged Max to take him.

He could feel that the man hadn’t had anyone inside him for a long time, just by the sheer

tightness of the anal muscle and inner sleeve. “Fuck…” Max gasped as he pushed in slowly, the

pressure around his member so constricting it was nearly painful, yet at the same time sheer ecstasy.

Carl gripped his pillow, his body tensing hard, straining. His head dropped back and a strangle

groan exhaled out of him. “Max…” his jaw clenched, hard breath puffing between his teeth as he

lifted his ass to his lover. “Oh fuck, Max…yes…uuuhhh…give it all to me, baby…don’t stop.”

Applying a little more force, Max shoved in deep and Carl yelled, panting hard.

“Fuck me, Max,” he gasped. “Please…now…fuck me.”

Max lay down against him and slipped his arms under his chest, locking him in, and rocked his

hips slowly, firmly, pushing, pulling, stroking gently, his face shoved against Carl’s shoulder, hot

breath puffing against hot skin. “Oh god,” he groaned tightly, “Ah fuck, Carl…baby…”

Huffing into the pillow, Carl sucked in a deep breath, “I’m not made of glass, Max,” he gasped,

“Fuck me harder.”

Increasing the tempo, Max squeezed the man in his arms and pumped himself into him with added

force, their rhythm intensifying, cries and shouts bursting from their lips, the mattress absorbing their

urgent movements.

With a strangled cry, Max released Carl with one arm and snaked it around his neck, twisting his

head to the side and claiming his mouth, kissing hard as he fucked him with urgency and desperation.

When he broke loose from the kiss, he gasped out loud and groaned as his orgasm began to wrap

around him. “Fuck! Carl!” He pulled out quick and had Carl turn onto his back, then pushed his legs

open and upward a bit towards his chest. He stared down into his eyes as he penetrated him again and

rocked his cock inside him.

Carl’s erection was hard, stiff, leaking a steady stream of cum drool onto his stomach. Max

leaned over the top of him, keeping his rhythm, fucking him deep, hard, then grabbed Carl’s cock and

began to pump him hurriedly.

“Uuhh!” Carl arched, his hips thrusting against Max, fingers gouging the comforter, fucking Max

back with eagerness and urgency. “Oh fuck, Max! Fuuuck! I’m gonna come! Oh god! Oh Fuuuck!”

His body jerked hard and shots of white creamy cum burst out onto his stomach and chest, his whole

body straining, clenching. “Ahhhh! Fuuuck!”

Max released him and wrapped him in his arms, crushing their bodies together, Carl’s juices

smearing against Max’s sweat slick torso. Carl embraced him, curling his legs around Max’s waist

and squeezing as he fucked Max to orgasm.

Wrenching cries exploded out of Max as he released hard, filling Carl up, emptying every last

drop of himself inside the man. It seemed to take forever for the orgasm to release him before he

dropped weakly onto Carl’s chest, gasping, hot breath wheezing up his throat, puffing out across

Carl’s wet skin.

“Fuck, Max,” Carl panted erratically and rubbed his hands down over Max’s ass, squeezing his

cheeks. “You are one fucking fantastic lover.”

Max smiled tiredly, eyes growing heavy, lips against the man’s throat as he whispered, “You

too.”

Carl kissed his damp hair then lifted his face and kissed his mouth, and looked deep into his

eyes. “I think I might have let go.”

“It’s okay,” Max moaned and kissed him softly, “You’re safe.”

Chapter Six

In The Face Of Fear

“I’ll be right back,” Dane said walked to the kitchen doorway. “I left my keys in the car.” He

looked at Maddy who was perched on a stool at the counter, his face still reflecting a remnant of the

fear that had enveloped him back at the hospital. “I’m counting on you to help me figure out what to

make dinner, all right?”

Maddy glanced at him, a weak smile touching his lips. “Okay.”

Hesitating in the doorway, Dane’s face softened. “It’s going to be okay, Maddy.”

The boy simply nodded and lowered his eyes.

Dane couldn’t blame him for worrying, though. As soon as they’d come to stay with Max, they

had thought they were safe. Now…he wondered how long it would take Maddy, at least, to truly feel

like they were no longer in danger.

The night air had adopted a bite and Dane quickened his stride as his arms began to chill. He

retrieved his keys from the ignition then closed the door, the hairs on the nape of his neck suddenly

prickling, as if someone were watching him. He glanced around the dark neighborhood. Was that

bastard out there, just waiting for a chance to get at Maddy? He looked at the house, sudden unease

tightening his gut, though not sure where it was coming from. Casting one last sweeping glance up and

down the street, he walked quickly back inside.

The front door closed and he locked the deadbolt.

Something hit the kitchen floor and shattered.

“Maddy?” Dane moved hurriedly towards the kitchen. “Maddy, what happened-” He stopped

dead in the doorway, his heart stalling. The boy stared back at him, wide-eyed in terror in the grips of

the bastard who had attacked Angel. The man’s hand gripped Maddy under the crook of his jaw. One

swift jerk to the side and he could very well snap the boy’s neck. Tears streaked Maddy’s face, his

breath erratic, puffing out unevenly, on the verge of hyperventilating.

The motherfucker had been waiting for them inside the house?

“Let him go,” Dane spoke low, dangerous, his blood beginning to pump and surge through his

veins as his pulse quickened. “You fucking harm a hair on his head and you won’t live to see another

fucking sunrise.”

Byrd smiled dryly, his eyes heavy, glazed; the man was high on something. “I’m shaking in my

boots.”

“You fucking better be,” Dane glanced at Maddy, afraid to make a sudden move. He needed

Maddy out of the bastard’s grasp. Whatever the guys was on, it made him unstable and irrational

enough to think he could walk in here and just grab Maddy. He threw down his keys and took a

calculated step towards them. “You have to hide behind a kid? Come on,” he beckoned to him with

his hands. “Fight me like a fucking man. Or are you only a tough shit when you’re raping a child?”

The man just stared at him, but Dane could see the fire beginning to blaze behind his dull eyes; no

man liked to be called a coward, even if he were one. And this man’s emotions were likely

heightened by his drug of choice, which should make him easier to coax into a fight.

“Come on, chicken shit,” Dane agged him on. “Show me what a man you are. Surely you’re not

scared a faggot can kick your ass, are ya?”

He watched the man warily. Bastards like this had a tendency to react quickly, unexpectedly. The

guy wasn’t a twig and might well put up a good fight. Dane had no clue as to his fighting skill, but the

fact that he was using Maddy as a shield betrayed his unwillingness to get into it with someone who

was his equal. No doubt he was used to dominating younger guys, abusing boys, but likely didn’t have

experience taking on a real man. Dane was counting on that, because right now–he was the only thing

preventing this sick bastard from brutally raping Maddy. And if that happened–Maddy would be lost

to them forever. Dane didn’t see him coming back from such an experience. Nor would Dane be able

to live with his own guilt if Maddy got hurt while under his watch.

“I ain’t scared of no faggot,” Byrd hissed, but he remained where he was, gripping Maddy’s jaw.

The boy sucked for air, his panic impairing his breathing. Tears poured down his face as he stared at

Dane, his dark eyes full of terror and pleading with Dane to save him. Sobs hitched his chest and he

seemed about to collapse.

“Looks to me that you are, motherfucker,” Dane growled. Come on! Let him go. Come after me,

you fucking chicken shit! “You’re not only a fucking coward–you’re pretty fucking stupid too.”

“How do you figure?” Byrd sneered, voice slightly thick.

“Walking right into the lion’s den and trying to take our cub,” Dane cocked his head. “Seems

pretty fucking stupid to me.”

Byrd smiled coldly. “I am going to take him. And when I’m done fucking him six ways from

Sunday, I’m gonna look up Angel boy again and finish what I started.”

The drugs had this guy out of his fucking mind if he really thought he was getting out of this house

with Maddy. Dane glanced at the boy; he was trembling from Byrd’s declaration of what he was

going to do to him and Angel. But there was something else in his face, something that hadn’t been

there a moment ago–and hadn’t shown up until the man mentioned Angel.

Rage.

Fresh tears welled up in Maddy’s eyes and his lips tightened. “You’re not hurting Angel again,”

he choked.

Byrd chuckled, “And who’s going to stop me, little boy? Your faggot friend here?” He squeezed

Maddy’s jaw and the boy winced. “Now I think it’s time you and I went for a little ride. I’ve been

waiting for a piece of your sweet little ass for a long, baby boy.”

“No…” Maddy cried and tried to twist away but Byrd held him secure, his head locked

dangerously.

“Don’t worry, Maddy,” Dane murmured, “You’re not going anywhere with this motherfucker.

You’re staying right here with me.”

“I’ll snap his fucking neck if you don’t get out of my way,” Byrd’s eyes were empty as he stared

at Dane.

“Hey, Maddy…” Dane said quietly, slowly, never taking focus off Byrd. “The other day at the

club, Angel was telling us that you guys watched that movie Miss Congeniality. Do remember that?”

A frown pinched Maddy’s brow, tears running down his flushed cheeks. “Yes,” he whispered

uncertainly, voice shaking.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Byrd glared at him.

Dane ignored him and continued to speak to Maddy. “Angel told us what your favorite part was.

Do you remember?”

The boy seemed confused, fear controlling him. “I-I don’t…”

“Think, now, Maddy,” Dane murmured, “Remember…Sing?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Byrd snapped. “I said get the fuck out of my way or—”

“I-I remember,” Maddy stared at him.

Dane held his eyes. “For Angel, Maddy.”

The boy’s throat worked, his brow squeezing and breath quickening, rushing through his nostrils.

“Now, Maddy,” Dane whispered and nodded.

“What the fuck are you—” Byrd started then shouted and cursed sharply when Maddy’s elbow

suddenly nailed him in the solar plexus with all the strength the boy had. The man’s hand loosened

from Maddy’s jaw and the kid stomped on his instep. “Fuck!” Byrd stumbled back and Dane lunged

forward, grabbing Maddy, thrusting him out of the way. Byrd came at Maddy in a rage. “ You little

motherfucker!”

Dane caught a fistful of the man’s hair and smashed his face down on the counter. The man’s legs

buckled as a loud wet grunt exploded from him, blood splattering across the counter top. Dane’s knee

connected with his face then the guy was flat on his back on the floor, blood running into his eyes,

from his mouth and nose and down into his ears and hair, pooling of the linoleum.

Standing over him, Dane stared down at him, chest heaving, resisting the urge to just finish the

fucker off right then and there. “Told you that you were a stupid motherfucker.” He looked at Maddy.

“You okay?”

The boy was still shaking, but the terror was gone from his eyes, and in its place a new kind of

strength. “Y-Yeah,” he swallowed thickly, staring wide-eyed at Byrd.

“You did good,” Dane told him, “It took a lot of guts, what you did.” He grabbed his phone and

dialed 911. “Angel will be damn proud of you, little brother.” When the 911 operator answered,

Dane told them the situation and asked for the police.

Byrd was unconscious by the time Dane closed his phone. “You can go in the other room if you

want,” he told Maddy. “You don’t have to stay in here with him.”

“I’m okay,” he whispered, his eyes shifting to Dane.

Running his hand over the boy’s head, Dane smiled softly, “Yes you are, Maddy.” The kid had

finally faced the monster of his nightmares–and won. And in his soft brown eyes reflected the

understanding that he didn’t have to be afraid anymore.

Dane smiled and kissed his head, then pulled him into his arms, hugging him tight. He closed his

eyes as tears welled behind his lids. Maddy was safe. Angel was safe. Everything would be okay.

His phone beeped in his hand, alerting him to a missed text message. He drew back and cleared

his throat, then opened his phone again and brought up his inbox. The text was from Gabe. His

stomach pinched and he hesitated a moment before opening it.

“What is it?” Maddy asked uncertainly as Dane stared blankly at Gabe’s message, his heart

pounding.

He snapped the phone closed and stuffed it in his pocket, eyes burning. He turned away from

Maddy and cleared his throat. “Nothing,” he said thickly, then, “Why don’t you go into the living

room and watch TV or something until the cops get here. You don’t need to be in here with this

mess.”

“Okay,” Maddy murmured and he felt the boy’s eyes on him. A moment later, he left the kitchen.

Dane dropped into a chair at the small table, throat working as tears rose up. Cole and Gabe

were over? And Gabe was just…cutting himself loose from everyone? Dane squeezed the back of

his neck, his chest tightening. He couldn’t lose his two best friends this way.

Please don’t seek me out.

“Fuck that,” Dane choked quietly, “You’re not fucking leaving us.”

Chapter Seven

Righteous Indignation

Long after Faron Ryland had vacated the VIP room, Cole remained behind, the door closed. He

felt sick to his stomach and in need of a hot shower, but he didn’t want to go home. Another option

was to go to the bar get blind drunk, but neither did he want to be out in the club, getting

propositioned by customers, having to make conversation with the other guys, people constantly

asking him if he was okay or if everything was all right. He just wanted to be left alone–from now

until fucking eternity.

So when the call came in from Dane, he let it go to voice mail. He didn’t want to answer

questions about Gabe. He just wanted to forget. It was a mystery to him now why he had followed

Gabe home. To catch him in the act? Why the fuck had he been so determined to see it with his own

eyes? That wasn’t something he could erase–ever.

He sat on the floor with his back against the counter which held the stereo, elbows resting on his

knees, fingers in his hair as he stared blankly at the maroon carpet. The tears had stopped for the time

being, but the pain in his chest, his heart, was still hollowing him out. He knew he should talk to

someone, maybe call Dane back, but to voice it all right now…he didn’t think he could handle it. If he

just kept quiet, didn’t say it out loud maybe it would never “really” be real; if he didn’t claim it

verbally.

Sometime later, he didn’t know how long he’d been sitting there, Cole crawled to his feet and

left the VIP room. Avoiding the crowd, he slipped along the back wall and stepped into Max’s office

and closed the door. He couldn’t bear going back to his apartment, trying to sleep in his bed knowing

Gabe would never again be there with him. Never feel his strong, warm body against his own–a

feeling that had always brought Cole a sense of love and comfort. No matter how unstable the world

had felt around him at times, Gabe had always been there to bring stability to his world. But now it

was his world crumbling, crashing down around him…and there was no one to run to.

Cole lay down on the leather sofa. The dry well of tears sprang back to life and he buried his

face in his arms to muffle his cries. The hurt coated his heart and pulsed in time with each heartbeat,

squeezing a little tighter each time until his life muscle felt like it was crushing in on itself.

Just do it. Just stop. You have no reason to keep beating anymore.

♦

Max laid on his stomach and hugged the thick, soft pillow, gazing past his own reflection in the

large window and out at the city, bright with a myriad of multicolored lights. He and Carl were still

on top of the comforter, nude bodies touching. Carl dragged his fingertips lightly up and down Max’s

back, causing a sweet, pleasurable shiver to race through him.

“Would I sound too much like a chic k if I asked what you were thinking about?” Carl murmured

and kissed his shoulder.

Max smiled and shook his head slowly, never taking his eyes off the city below. “No,” he

whispered.

“So what are you thinking?” Carl leaned closer and kissed his shoulder blade then the center of

his back, his hand wandering down to caress the swell of his rear.

A soft sigh escaped Max and he moaned, “Well right this second…I’m thinking I could get used

to those kisses and caresses.”

Carl smiled against his back. “Is that all you’re thinking?”

“I don’t know,” Max whispered, “I’m trying not to think. Give my brain a rest for the night and

just…” He twisted around a little and looked at Carl as the man drew back. “…enjoy being with

you.” He bumped him gently with his shoulder, “What’re you thinking about?”

“I’m thinking…” Carl rubbed the back of his fingers slowly down Max’s arm then laid a soft kiss

on his mouth. “…that I would love to wake up to you tomorrow morning, start my day by making love

to you,” he smiled, his beautiful eyes wistful. He kissed him again. “What are the odds of me getting

what I want?”

“I’d say the odds are in your favor,” Max murmured, grinning and tugging at Carl’s lips. “But I

have to run back to the club in a few and close up.”

“Not a problem,” Carl smiled. “But it isn’t that late yet, so…” He trailed his fingertips down

Max’s spine and lightly through the crease of his ass cheeks. “Whatever can we do to entertain

ourselves till then?”

Max turned onto his side, dragging Carl’s hand over his hip, and propped on one elbow. “We’re

two reasonably intelligent men,” he licked his lips slowly and ran a fingertip down the center of

Carl’s chest. “I’m sure we could come up with something.”

Carl chuckled and dipped his head, kissing Max on the mouth. “I think so too.” His kiss

deepened, his tongue weaving between Max’s lips and further in. Max moaned and leaned into it, his

body instantly coming to attention. Carl rubbed his hand across his lower back then his ass, squeezing

lightly, massaging his firm flesh. Moaning again, Max pressed closer, their hardened members

brushing together. “Fuck,” Carl gasped softly, breaking from the kiss.

“Just what I had in mind,” Max murmured and smiled. His hand descended and wrapped around

Carl’s stiff erection, stroking slowly.

“God, Max…” Carl groaned, his head dropping back, hips pushing his cock through Max’s fist.

“Every part of you is so damn beautiful,” Max whispered and buried his face in the man’s neck,

tugging at his warm skin, sucking gently as his hand went on working his hard member.

Maybe you can move on. Maybe Carl really is the “man for the job”…the one to help you let

go of the past.

When his mind instinctively tried to reach for Horatio, Max shifted it quickly to Carl; this

beautiful man who was longing to love him…and be loved by him.

♦

Once the police had been dealt with and Byrd was escorted to the hospital, Dane made a call to

Devlin, explaining what happened and asking him not to mention it to Angel tonight. Having that

bastard in the same hospital as Angel didn’t set well with Dane, but Devlin was there and was

looking after him. Had it not been for Maddy, Dane would have stayed at the hospital with Angel.

“I can help,” Maddy stood in the kitchen doorway, watching Dane as he began to clean Byrd’s

blood off the countertop. There was a quiet new strength in the boy that warmed Dane’s heart and

brought a sting of tears to his eyes.

“It’s okay,” Dane told him, “I got this. This isn’t something you should have to deal with.”

Maddy stared at him, then murmured, “I’m glad you made him bleed.”

Pausing, Dane stared at the boy. “You are?”

His throat worked as he whispered, “They made me watch.” Tears filled his eyes. “They made

me watch them…rape Angel.” He swallowed hard. “I wouldn’t have cared if you had killed him.”

Dane had known Maddy and Angel had gone through hell, but he hadn’t known that part. “Believe

me, little brother,” Dane murmured tightly, “I had to force myself not to.”

“He’s going back to jail, right?”

“Yes,” Dane nodded, “And this time, he won’t get bail. Not after this.”

Though tears swam in the boy’s eyes, the look floating therein was hard, determined. “If him or

Wade ever tries to hurt Angel again—”

“Then I’ll make them disappear,” Dane assured.

Maddy entered the kitchen, looking at the floor where Byrd’s blood was congealing on the tiles.

“I’m glad he came here,” he said quietly.

“You are?”

Nodding, Maddy met his eyes. “I was so scared of him,” he said thickly, “Tonight, I was scared

of the thought of going to bed, being alone in my room, afraid he would find me and get in somehow

without you knowing. And…” He dropped his gaze to the floor again, a tear sliding his cheek. “But

I’m not scared anymore.”

“You stood up to him,” Dane murmured, “And fought back. There’s real truth to what they say

about facing your fears. And people like Byrd, and Wade…they control others through fear. But they

lose that power once you’re not afraid of them anymore.”

Raising his eyes, Maddy asked quietly, “Angel fought back too, didn’t he?”

Dane smiled, “He did. Kicked the bastard in the prized jewels.”

“Good,” Maddy whispered. He looked at Dane. “He was never really afraid of them. He was

just afraid of what they would do to me.” Fresh tears rose up. “He was really strong, Dane. They

always called him a sissy faggot, and treated him like he was weak and helpless.” His chin trembled,

but pride glowed though his tears. “But he wasn’t. He was stronger than them. Stronger than anyone I

knew. They tried…they tried to break him, but they couldn’t. I always wanted to be like him, to be

that tough.”

Wiping his hands, Dane stepped over and hugged Maddy, kissing his head. “You are like him,

bud,” he whispered thickly, “You are tough. Here tonight, you knew what you needed to do, and you

did it. A lot of people would have been too scared to fight back.”

Maddy hugged him back. “I got mad when he said he was gonna go after Angel again.”

“That’s called a righteous anger,” Dane murmured, “And that’s a good anger. You fought back to

protect Angel, just like he protected you. Don’t ever doubt that you’re strong.”

When they drew apart, Maddy went to the sink and grabbed a thick sponge, soaked it in the hot,

sudsy water then squatted down and began wiping the blood off the floor. “Take that, motherfucker,”

he muttered, a satisfied smile twitching his lips.

Dane pressed his lips tight and smiled; the boy was going to be just fine.

Chapter Eight

Can’t Escape Fate

“What should we do?”

Max stood in his office, Carl at his side, looking at Cole asleep on his sofa, tear stains on the

man’s face. Max dragged his hand over his mouth and sighed, “Shit. I’ll wake him up, take him back

to my place for the night. Figure out what the hell is going on in the morning.”

Carl nodded silently.

“I’m sorry,” Max said, “I really did want to stay at your place tonight.”

“I know,” Carl smiled, “You don’t have to apologize. Take care of Cole, and we’ll schedule us

an all-nighter another time.”

“Thanks,” Max murmured.

Leaning over, Carl kissed him. “I’m flexible.”

“Indeed,” Max smiled wryly and Carl laughed softly.

“Go ahead and take Cole home,” he said, “I’ll close up shop for you.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure,” Carl grinned and kissed him again then stepped towards the door. “I’ll start shutting

off the stage lights.”

Max nodded and Carl left. He stared at Cole; something was fucked up, big time. He went to the

sofa and squatted down, then touched Cole’s shoulder. “Hey, babe. Wake up.”

“Gabe…” Cole mumbled in his sleep.

Licking his lips slowly, throat squeezing, Max murmured, “It’s me. Max.” He shook him gently.

“Wake up, Cole. I’m gonna take you home.”

The man’s eyes opened slowly, heavily. Tears trapped behind his closed lids seeped out. “I

don’t want to go home,” he whispered.

“I mean, I’ll take you home with me,” Max clarified. “I’m not going to leave you here all night.

You can take my bed, get some real rest. I’ll ride the sofa for tonight.”

Cole just looked at him, more tears welling, dripping onto the leather cushions. “He doesn’t love

me,” he trembled, words broken.

“What?”

“Gabe…” Cole’s face crumpled and he squeezed his eyes shut, face streaking with hot tears. “He

doesn’t…love me.”

Wrapping his arms around Cole’s shoulders, the man pressed his face to Max’s neck and cried.

Max stroked his hair, kissed his head. “I can’t believe that, Cole. But we don’t have to talk about it

tonight. Come home with me, get some sleep. We’ll deal with it all tomorrow.”

Cole sat up slowly and wiped his face then cleared his throat, his eyes empty. “There’s nothing

to deal with,” he whispered and stood up. “It’s over.”

Rising to his feet, Max didn’t debate the matter. Cole was in no state of mind for a rational

discussion.

♦

Ricky came out of the back to find Carl stacking the chairs upside down on the tables. “Hey,” he

walked over to the guy. “I thought you were out for the night?”

“I was,” Carl smiled, “But Max needed to come back and close up.”

“Where is he?” Ricky looked around but saw no sign of their boss.

Carl lifted another chair onto the table. “Something came up with Cole. They left a few minutes

ago.”

“Cole was here?” Ricky asked, “I haven’t seen him all night.”

“Yeah, well, I think he spent most of the night in Max’s office.”

Ricky frowned, “Why? Is he all right?”

A slow sigh pushed out of Carl and he shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Where’s Gabe? I haven’t seen anything of him either.”

Moving to another table, Carl began putting up the chairs and Ricky helped him. “He asked for

some time off.”

His lips tight, Ricky looked at the man with uncertainty, “Is there something going on I don’t

know about?”

“I think there may be a lot of shit going on that I don’t know about,”

Ricky smiled, “I thought the bartender knew everything about everything.”

Chuckling, Carl shook his head, “Not this bartender.” He looked towards the back of the club.

“Are you the last one here?”

Ricky’s face pinched a little. “No. Levi and Ashton are still in the back, and one of the other

guys. Sean, I think.” Just then, a young blond guy who looked like an ex-prom king and high school

heartthrob, walked out, heading for the club entrance. He tossed a wave at Ricky and Carl.

“See you guys tomorrow. Have a good one.”

“’Night, Sean.” Carl nodded, and Ricky bid him good night as well.

Ricky watched him until he disappeared through the doors. “You know, Sean is pretty hot.”

Shaking his head, Carl chuckled softly but said nothing.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Carl continued to chuckle. “You’re cute, that’s all.”

Ricky frowned. “What do you mean–I’m cute?”

Carl shrugged and grinned, resting an arm on the upturned leg of the chair he’d just placed on the

table. “You ogle the boys, flirt with them, and really work the whole player persona.” He shook his

head and smirked, “But we both know there’s just one boy you truly want.”

Rolling his eyes, Ricky groaned, “Don’t even go back to that.”

“It’s true.”

“Whatever.”

“Why’re you fighting it so hard?” Carl asked sincerely.

“Look,” Ricky said, “I know I’m no saint, and certainly no monk, but Levi fucks anything that

holds still long enough, and probably some things that don’t. So what if I did like him? What the fuck

good would it do me?” Ricky exhaled hard and turned away, arms crossed over his chest, a sudden

strain in his throat that kind of pissed him off. Why in the hell should he get all worked up over a little

slut like Levi?

“Have you witnessed these…promiscuous acts?”

Ricky looked at him hard. “You mean been right there in the room when he was fucking

someone? No. Thank God. I don’t need that burned into my brain.”

“Maybe Levi is all talk,” Carl suggested, “You ever think about that?”

“No,” Ricky scowled. “I mean, shit, him and Ashton have been joined at the cock since the guy

showed up. What? You think they’re out having tea parties together?”

Clearly amused, Carl chuckled and shook his head.

“What’s so fucking funny?” Ricky stared at him, frustrated.

“Oh Ricky,” Carl grinned, “You do know that the more you piss and moan about him, the more

you expose your true interests in the guy.” Ricky groaned. Carl cleared his throat then nodded slowly,

“Maybe he tells you these wild sex stories to see if you’ll get jealous.”

Ricky flicked his hands, “Why would he care if I was jealous? He already got what he wanted.”

Lifting an eyebrow, Carl smirked, “So you did sleep with him.”

“Yeah, so what?” Ricky snapped, “But he was gone when I woke up, so that right there says he

was just there for the fuck.”

Carl shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. Did you ask him why he left?”

“No.” Ricky chuffed.

“Why not?”

Shaking his head, Ricky crossed his arms over his chest against and stared at the floor, brow

tight.

“Uh-huh,” Carl murmured, “You didn’t want him to know you were in for more than the sex.”

“Who says I was?” Ricky whispered, but he knew he was losing this conversation. He’d been

fighting off the truth of his feelings with all his might, but the more Carl delved into the issue with

Levi–the more they bubbled to the surface. His chest began to tighten and squeeze.

“Look, Ricky…” He didn’t finish as Levi and Ashton came out of the back. Half way across the

floor, Ashton touched Levi’s arm and kissed his cheek, told him good night then headed on out as Levi

lingered behind. Ashton waved at Carl and Ricky then was gone. For some reason, the soft kiss on

Levi’s cheek was more troublesome to Ricky than if he’d laid a nasty smooch on his mouth. The

tenderness implied that maybe there was more going on between them than just sex.

“Hey,” Levi grinned and approached Carl and Ricky. “You guys need any help?”

“I never turn down help,” Carl quipped. “Maybe you guys can finish putting up the chairs while I

make sure all the lights and stuff are turned off in the back.”

“Sure,” Levi nodded. Ricky didn’t look at him, knowing exactly what Carl was doing.

“Great,” Carl smiled, winked at Ricky then walked into the back of the club.

Levi started grabbing chairs and putting them up. “You know,” he said, “This would go a lot

quicker if we both worked at it.”

Ricky grunted and moved to a different table and picked up the chairs in silence, trying to keep

his back to Levi. He didn’t want to look at him, at that…fucking cute face of his. Realizing how he

really felt made it a thousand times worse to just look at him. He preferred denial.

“So,” Levi spoke and Ricky detected a grin in his voice. “Should I just ride over to your place

with you…or take my own car?”

A sudden stiffness gripped Ricky’s body and he turned around slowly, brow tight, furrowed.

“Excuse me?” he stared at him. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Levi smiled, somehow pulling off the look of innocence–though innocent he was not. “At the

theater, we talked about me staying the night with you tonight.”

“No,” Ricky shook his head, “No, we did not. I said you couldn’t.”

“That isn’t what I heard.”

“Then maybe you should clean out your fucking ears.”

Levi sighed, shook his head then smiled and worked his way towards Ricky. “We had a good

time, didn’t we? Why wouldn’t you want me to stay another night?”

The guy was getting too close and Ricky moved around to the other side of the table. “Maybe I

didn’t have a good time.”

Levi chuckled softly, almost sweetly. “Liar,” his eyes sparkled as he gazed at Ricky, and Ricky

looked away quick as his heart began to pound a little too hard, beat a little too fast, and he was

overcome with the bittersweet certainty that he wouldn’t be going home alone tonight.

♦

The clubhouse. 7:00 p.m. Tomorrow night.

Gabe stared at the glowing display of his cell, the simple message carrying with it the threat of

gun to his back. He raised his eyes from the phone and looked at the television screen, the only light

in the living room–in the entire apartment. He was exhausted–emotionally, physically…every way

imaginable–but he wouldn’t set foot in his bedroom, or touch his bed–on which the transgression had

taken place that Cole had witnessed, which in turn ripped the man from Gabe’s life…and ripped

Gabe from Cole’s heart. He wanted to dump gasoline all through that room and burn the fucker to

ashes.

His dull, empty eyes absently followed the characters on the TV screen, the sound turned so low

their voices were barely audible. Not that he would have heard them anyway. All he could hear was

Cole’s voice, screaming at him, breaking apart with anguish too great to contain, telling Gabe he

never wanted to see him again, insisting that Gabe had never loved him.

He slowly shifted his focus back to the cell, and the message still hovering on the display.

Tomorrow night. That’s when it would all really begin…and end. All of this was just a prelude.

Quint had a year to do with Gabe as he pleased, and he would submerge him so deep in his depraved

world that by the time the year was up–the “Gabe” that his club family knew…would be gone. But in

the end, what did it really matter? Those at the club needed Cole more than they needed him, so Gabe

would make that choice for them. He would walk away, and let Cole remain. They might miss him at

first, but in time he would fade from their thoughts as others joined the family and took his place.

Maybe Cole would fall in love again with someone new, someone better…and forget he had ever

cared for Gabe.

A teardrop hit the phone and Gabe slowly rubbed it away with his thumb. He stared at the

keypad, and the number 2 button. The speed dial for Cole’s number . He caressed it lightly with his

thumb as it blurred and wavered–then pressed it.

He didn’t raise the phone to his ear as the line rang through on the other end and went to voice

mail. He pressed speaker and listened to Cole’s recorded message. When it came time to leave his

own message, Gabe just stared at the phone. I love you, Cole. I’m so sorry, baby. What you saw…it

wasn’t what you thought. I would never hurt you. Please forgive me.

The phone closed slowly as the words remained in his heart, far away from his lips. It didn’t

matter anymore. Nothing he said would undo the devastation he had caused.

It was time to accept his fate.

Chapter Nine

Nothing to Believe In

Learning of the incident with Byrd helped to pull Cole back to a stronger state of mind and turn

his focus elsewhere besides Gabe. Max had been quite upset that Dane hadn’t called him, but Dane

assured him that he and Maddy had dealt with it, and causing Max to end his date prematurely would

have done no one any good.

When Dane picked up Angel from the hospital the following morning, it wasn’t until they were

back at Max’s that Angel was informed of the events of the previous evening.

At first, Angel appeared stunned…then horrified. “He came here?” he whispered, standing in

Max’s kitchen surrounded by Dane, Cole, Max and Maddy. His stare settled on Maddy, and a film of

tears glazed his eyes. “He didn’t hurt you…did he?” his voice strained and he tried to swallow but

seemed to be having difficulty.

“No,” Maddy said quietly, “I’m okay.”

Dane wrapped his arm around Angel’s shoulder. “You would’ve been proud,” he smiled,

“Maddy fought back, showed that bastard he wasn’t afraid of him anymore.” He winked at Maddy and

the boy smiled.

“So you’re…” Angel glanced from Dane to Maddy, “You’re really okay?”

“Yeah,” Maddy assured softly.

“What did you do?”

Chuckling softly, Dane squeezed Angel against him. “Let’s just say, sometimes it’s good for kids

to watch television.”

“Huh?” Angel looked at him, puzzled.

Dane laughed, “I’ll explain later.” He kissed him. “The important thing is, no one got hurt.”

Maddy added, “No one but that mother—”

“Maddy.” Angel warned.

“What?” Maddy smiled innocently, “I was gonna say mother-humper.”

Angel smiled skeptically as the others laughed, “Yeah. Sure you were.”

When Dane finally stole Angel away and was alone with him in the bedroom, Angel’s anxieties

shown through more visibly. “He’s really okay,” Dane murmured, lying on the bed with him. “In a

way, I think it was good this happened.”

“Why would you think that?” Angel frowned.

“Because Maddy was terrified of Byrd catching him alone,” he said, “You saw how he was at

the hospital. He was in a near panic at the thought. But when he finally faced him–and fought back–it

helped put down that fear. Even he said he didn’t feel afraid anymore.”

Angel laid his head on Dane’s chest and whispered, “But what if it had all went wrong?” A

tremor ran through him.

“It didn’t,” Dane murmured and kissed his hair. “Maddy’s safe. And even better than before.” He

kissed him again. “We’re all okay.”

Angel laid in silence for a moment just hugging Dane’s body. “ All of us?” he whispered with a

thickness to his voice. He lifted his head. “What about Cole and Gabe? Where is Gabe?”

“Things are…” Dane sighed heavily, “They’re kind of messed up right now. Cole hasn’t really

talked about what happened between them, but…”

“What?” Angel frowned.

Dane scooted up a little and took out his phone, opened it to Gabe’s message and handed the cell

to Angel. “Gabe sent me this last night.”

Taking the phone, Angel read the text message, his eyes instantly filling. “What does he mean–he

and Cole are over?” Angel’s voice trembled. “He can’t just go away. He can’t leave us.”

“I don’t know what’s all going on,” Dane admitted, “But I’m not gonna just stand back and let our

family fall apart. I’ll go talk to Gabe. I’ll make him tell me everything.”

“Will you do it today?” Angel asked, wiping his eyes. “Please?”

“Of course,” Dane kissed his mouth softly. “I had planned on it.” He caressed his thumb gently

over Angel’s cut lip then kissed him again, keeping it light, gentle. “We’ll get Gabe back.”

Angel hugged him tight and laid his head back on his chest. “I believe you,” he whispered.

Ducking his face, Dane pressed his lips to the young man’s hair. Things were royally fucked

between Cole and Gabe, but after making it through the nightmare that had linked his and Angel’s

past–Dane was a strong believer in miracles and the power of forgiveness.

“Can we make love tonight?” Angel whispered against his throat and tightened his arms around

Dane’s body. “I missed you so much last night.”

“You know you don’t have to ask,” Dane smiled, “But,” he lifted Angel’s face gently and

grinned, “I’m the only who gets to perform any oral.” He kissed Angel’s slightly swollen lips. “You

don’t get to do any of that until you’re totally healed.”

Angel groaned and murmured, “But I love doing it.”

“I know,” Dane chuckled, “And believe me, I’m not complaining. But you’re just gonna have to

settle for being the suck-ee tonight.”

Angel laughed. “Love your eloquence, baby.”

“Yes, I do have quite the distinguished vocabulary,” Dane grinned.

“Well, I suppose I can handle being the receiver tonight.”

“Yeah?” Dane grinned and nuzzled his neck, making him laugh louder, “You sure about that?”

“Yes!” Angel choked on a laugh then wrapped his arms around his neck, squeezing him close,

tight, his humor softening to emotion. “I love you, so much.”

Pulling back just a little, Dane touched his head to Angel’s brow. “I love you too, baby.”

“Promise you’ll never leave me?”

Dane smiled softly and kissed his lips. “A herd of drunken sailors couldn’t drag me away.”

♦

Cole stood still outside the bedroom door, the soft voices and laughter halting his walk down the

hall. He listened to the soft, playful repartee, the comforting sound of lovers simply enjoying one

another’s presence. The hole in his chest hollowed out a little wider, deeper. His chest hurt as he

fought to control the pain twisting him up inside. He didn’t begrudge Dane and Angel their happiness–

God knows, they fucking earned it. But it brought with it too many recent memories that cut at him

relentlessly, gouging open his heart, leaving it to bleed.

When they quieted down, he moved on. The tenderness and passion, he didn’t want to hear. It

hurt more than the other. He walked on into the kitchen where Maddy and Max were preparing lunch

for everyone. Cole stopped in the doorway. “I’m going to…” he motioned absently towards the front

door. “…head over to my place. Take a shower, change.”

“You’re not staying for lunch?” Max asked. Concern shadowed his eyes.

“No,” Cole murmured, “I’m not really hungry.” He cleared his throat. “Thanks for letting me stay.

I’ll talk to you later.”

He was at the front door when Max caught up to him. “Hey. I want you to know you can come by

any time, day or night, all right? Or call. You’re always welcome here, Cole. Don’t ever think you

can’t talk to me.” He pressed his lips tight and looked at the floor a moment then raised his eyes. “I

wish you’d talk to me about what’s going on with you and Gabe. Maybe it’s just a misunderstand—”

“No,” Cole interjected quickly, sharply. “There was nothing to misunderstand or misinterpret.”

His throat tightened. “I got the message loud and clear.”

“What happened?”

Cole stared at him, his vision blurring. “I caught him in the act, Max,” he said thickly,

swallowing hard. “I saw him fucking another guy. I saw it with my own eyes. So you tell me–how the

hell could I be misunderstanding the situation?”

The man’s face fell, distress darkening his eyes; Max had clearly been clinging to some shred of

hope that maybe things weren’t as Cole thought them to be. But now he knew–they were exactly as

they appeared.

“Fuck,” Max cleared his throat as emotion strained his words, “I’m sorry, Cole. I don’t

understand it. I would have never thought that Gabe…” He shook his head, eyes watering.

“Me neither,” Cole whispered, “But maybe we never really know anyone.” He started to open

the door, then turned back, “Shit. My car’s back at the club. Can I borrow yours?”

“Yeah, sure,” Max sniffed and swiped quickly at his eyes then dug out his keys. “Just bring it to

the club later. I’ll catch a ride with Dane, or have Carl swing by and pick me up.”

“Okay,” Cole murmured, “Thanks.”

Once he was in the car and on his way, his stomach began to churn with nausea. He didn’t want

to go home. Didn’t want to be there alone with the memories of Gabe. Hating him for what he’d done

didn’t lessen the strength of the other memories, or dull the recollection of how his hands felt on

Cole’s body, the pure ecstasy and fulfilment of making love to him. It didn’t quiet the soft declarations

of love whispered in the night hours, the promises that…they were okay.

The street wavered and blurred. How long had they not been okay? How many customers had he

fucked on the side? Had it ever been real for Gabe? Or had he been playing Cole right from the start?

Maybe every I Love You was a lie, a ruse to throw him off and trick him into believing they had

something good, enduring.

When he found himself in front of his apartment building, he just sat for a while in the car. Maybe

he should have stayed at Max’s, taken a shower there, and borrowed some clean clothes from Dane or

Max. Anything so he didn’t have to come back here.

You should have made him tell you “why”. You should have made him explain why he would

do this to you.

But there had been no room for rational thought when Gabe had walked through his door. Not so

soon after witnessing his indiscretions. He’d wanted to hurt Gabe as bad as Gabe had hurt him.

Maybe he should have burst into Gabe’s bedroom and confronted him in the act–as he’d intended to

in the first place. But actually seeing it had made him realize there had been a part of him that didn’t

believe–despite the evidence–that he would actually find Gabe in such a compromising situation.

Deep down, he had clung to the certainty that Gabe would never be unfaithful, never hurt him in

such a devastating and permanent way. And when he’d looked through that door, seen him riding

Quinton’s cock and begging the man to fuck him harder–whatever illusions he’d maintained were

ripped away. He hadn’t had the strength to step inside and face him. All he’d wanted to do was run,

get away. But the pain and the images followed him, the vision of his lover’s betrayal seared into his

mind forever.

Rubbing at his eyes, he tugged the keys from the ignition and exited the car. Waiting any longer to

enter his apartment wasn’t going to make it any easier, and he couldn’t stay out of it indefinitely. He

would take everything that reminded him of Gabe and get rid of it, even if it left his entire fucking

apartment bare. He wanted nothing left in there that gave evidence that the man had ever been a part

of Cole’s life.

When he’d discovered the missed call and voice mail message from Gabe this morning on his

cell, he had deleted the message without listening to it. Then blocked Gabe’s number and erased him

from his contact list.

As far as Cole was concerned–Gabe was dead to him.

Chapter Ten

What the Heart Can’t Say

Ricky was lost. Playing it by ear. Winging it; whatever one wanted to call it. As predicted, he

hadn’t come home alone last night. And the moment they had stepped through the door, Levi had

hurriedly ushered him to the bedroom, wasted no time getting them both naked, and the rest of the

night was a hazy blur of hot and wild sex.

But what had Ricky confused, and uncertain how to respond–was the Levi’s presence in his bed

come morning. The guy hadn’t left, as he’d done before. He was splayed out on the bed next to Ricky,

face down, hugging the pillow, sleeping soundly. Ricky had surmised that maybe he hadn’t meant to

fall asleep and stay all night. But when Levi had awakened, he’d seemed in no hurry to rush out of

there.

It was nearing noon and the guy was still there. In fact, they were both basically still in bed,

wearing only undershorts and t-shirts. They had made their trips to the kitchen for coffee, toast and

jam, and whatnot–but neither had bothered to get dressed or migrate from the bedroom for too long.

“So what’s with you?” Levi sipped at his second cup of coffee, eyeing Ricky who was lounged

back against the wall, one leg tucked under him, the other outstretched. He twisted his own coffee cup

in his hands, taking only the occasional drink.

“What do you mean?”

“You keep looking at me funny,” Levi smirked, “Like I’m some stranger or something.”

Right now, Ricky thought, you kind of are. “Okay,” he murmured, “If you say so. I wasn’t aware

I was looking at you weird.”

“Well, something’s on your mind,” Levi nudged his outstretched leg with his foot. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” Ricky insisted.

“Quit fucking lying,” Levi grinned, “And just tell me.”

The guy was so fucking cute that if Ricky knew the secrets of universe, he would spill them to

him. But just not this. If he’d thought for one second Levi was still here in his bed for reasons other

than extended casual sex–then yeah, maybe he would open up. But the guy had given no indication that

his emotions were even remotely involved.

“I told you–there’s nothing on my mind.”

Levi set his cup aside then rapped his knuckles on the side of Ricky’s head. “You may be right,”

he snickered, “Sounds kind of hollow in there.”

“Fucker,” Ricky scowled but laughed as he jerked his head away. “Could you be any more

annoying?”

“Pretty sure,” Levi flicked an eyebrow.

“Yeah me too,” Ricky chuffed and shook his head.

“What?” Levi laughed short, “All of a sudden, I’m annoying?”

“All of a sudden?” Ricky arched his brow and stared at him.

Leaning over, Levi slipped a stealthy hand down between Ricky’s legs and palmed his crotch. “I

didn’t hear you calling me annoying when I had a throat full of your cock. Or when I was riding you

like a wild bronc.” His hand squeezed then massaged, his fingertips working separately to get Ricky

good and hard. He released a forceful breath and Levi nuzzled his ear. “Am I being annoying now?”

Ricky’s breath quickened. “Shut up and get naked,” he groaned.

Levi grinned against his ear. “Say please.”

“No.”

“Gotta say please if you want—”

Ricky grabbed him quick and shoved him down on the bed, landing on top of him. He yanked off

Levi’s t-shirt before the guy could resist then kissed him hard, pushing his hips between his thighs and

grinding their crotches.

A short, gasping laugh burst from Levi as he broke from the kiss. “Fuck, I love it when you’re

forceful.” His legs wounds around Ricky’s body and he lifted his hips, rocking slowly, bumping his

hard, cotton-encased cock against Ricky’s bulging crotch as his arms wrapped around Ricky’s neck.

He played with the tips of Ricky’s hair at the nape of his neck. “So what’re you gonna do with me

now that you got me where you want me?”

Ricky just stared into his eyes as he reached down between them and shoved his hand inside

Levi’s shorts and tugged his cock free, stroking him slowly with a firm grip.

“Mmm,” Levi groaned, “I like where this is headed.” He shifted his legs and hooked his toes in

the band of Ricky’s underwear and pushed them down over his ass then worked them down his thighs.

Ricky’s rigid erection sprang loose and bumped Levi’s cock. They both moaned and Ricky pushed his

hips down harder and ground his dick against Levi’s. “Fuck,” Levi gasped and thrust up against him.

“Yes…god…”

Ricky kissed him again and snaked his arms around the young man’s lean body, so hot to the

touch. His tongue dipped into Levi’s slick, wet mouth and he couldn’t repress the moan incited by

Levi’s own tongue slipping all around his, then sucking sensually. The boy’s body melded to his and

moved with him perfectly. Something in the feel of Levi’s fingertips in his hair, his warm body

shifting in sync with his own, it caused Ricky’s chest to squeeze, eyes burn. This wasn’t how they

typically did things. Usually they went straight to wild fucking, very little preliminaries. But at the

moment, Levi seemed content to simply be wrapped around him, kissing him.

When they did finally shed their shorts and Ricky strapped on a condom, Levi crawled into his

lap as Ricky sat crossed legged on the bed, back against the wall. His arms wrapped Ricky’s neck,

hugging his head, as he rode him with a moderate rhythm that oddly felt better than any of their wild

sessions. Ricky embraced his body, pulled him tight against him and fucked him back with the same

easy rhythm. His face pressed against Levi’s neck, breath puffing hotly against his damp skin. Levi’s

fingers were in his hair, gripping gently, then relaxing, stroking through his strands, then gripping

again. His lips rested against Ricky’s ear, breath gasping softly, unevenly, as his hips raised and

lowered and rolled so beautifully that Ricky found himself fighting a sudden well of tears.

You’re falling in love with him. Ricky squeezed his eyes shut and held him tighter as their bodies

moved a little more quickly, urgently. Not “falling”…he had already fallen. He knew this now.

“Uhh…” Levi moaned and hugged his head closer, clutching his hair. “Fuck…yes…” His hot

breath plumed against Ricky’s ear, his moans sensual, stimulating. “Oh god…Ricky…”

“Fuck…” Ricky growled tightly then laid Levi down on the bed and thrust at him with increased

urgency. The guy’s body arched and writhed, hips rolling with Ricky’s strokes. He stared up at Ricky

with heavy eyes. Ricky’s heart pounded wildly at the emotion he wanted to believe he was seeing

there.

“Oh Ricky…” Levi sucked in a sharp, deep breath and arched his body more firmly against

Ricky’s. “Yes, baby…do it…oh god, fuck me…you fuck me so good…” Levi pulled him into a kiss–

not hard and lustful, but passionate and mind-blowing.

Ricky couldn’t take it–the sudden shift in the guy’s demeanor sent him over the edge. “Fuck!” He

gasped into Levi’s mouth then arched, thrusting in deep, hard. “Ahhh! Fuuuck!” He unloaded

suddenly, filling the condom, pumping his lover, panting erratically until the orgasm was spent. His

thrusts slowly gradually and he had no strength nor will to resist when Levi rolled him over on his

back, removed the soiled condom then applied a fresh one to himself and coated his cock with saliva.

“Fuck!” Ricky gasped sharply when Levi entered him.

Pushing up on his arms, hovering over the top of Ricky, Levi rocked his stiff member in and out

of Ricky’s overheated body, pushing in slow ly, all the way, then drawing out, then back in, slipping

across Ricky’s gland with each inward push. He didn’t say anything, just stared down at him, breath

puffing, sweat beading and beginning to drip down on Ricky’s chest.

Ricky’s cock began to grow heavy with each stroke of Levi’s member across his prostrate.

“Fuck, baby…” Ricky moaned and grabbed the guy’s hips, moving with his rhythm.

It didn’t take very long before Levi’s thrusts intensified and he was shoving in harder, deeper,

their bodies hitting together with hunger, want and need. Levi panted hard then dropped down and

wrapped his arms around Ricky as he lost control to his impending orgasm and fucked him in

desperation until he was crying out and coming hard, clinging to Ricky’s body, face shoved into his

neck.

“Fuuuck!” Ricky choked as Levi fucked him erratically, his cock stabbing his sweet spot

relentlessly, bringing Ricky back to instant rigid erection.

Then he was slowing, his body trembling as the orgasm released him. But he remained on top of

Ricky, breath broken, shaky. Ricky rubbed his hands up Levi’s back, caressed hit hot, damp skin, and

touched his lips to his ear, about to confess to the guy all the feelings and emotions in his heart–when

Levi’s phone buzzed.

Groaning, Levi crawled off him, rolled over and grabbed his cell off the nightstand as his free

hand slipped the used condom off his softened member. He dumped it in the waste basket as he

checked the incoming text. When he closed the phone, he cast Ricky an apologetic look and stood up.

“Sorry to come and go all in the same moment,” he smirked, “But that was Ashton. He needs me.”

Ricky just stared at him, fighting desperately against the sting in his eyes, the sudden stabbing

pain in his heart. He propped up on his elbows and shot the guy a cold glare. “Well what the fuck you

waiting for?” he muttered bitterly, “Run along like a good little call boy.” Ricky left the bed and

walked out of the bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

♦

Dane left Angel and Maddy with Max when he went to locate Gabe. He didn’t really know what

to expect from Gabe, or what emotional state he might be in. So he preferred to go alone. The boys

had had enough to deal with, they didn’t need to see Gabe in a bad way as well.

It was mid-afternoon by the time he arrived at Gabe’s apartment building. Gabe’s car was parked

out front. Dane tapped his finger anxiously on the steering wheel then opened the driver door and got

out. Would the guy even answer his door? He’d told Dane not to come around.

After three knocks on the apartment door and still no answer, Dane was pretty sure Gabe was

just trying to wait him out, ignore him, pretend he wasn’t there. He smacked his fist a little harder on

the door and leaned close. “Come on, Gabe. Open up. I’m not leaving until you talk to me. If I have to,

I’ll set up fucking camp right here outside your door.”

When silence met him, he began to wonder if maybe the guy really wasn’t home. He might have

left with someone else. Though Dane didn’t want to contemplate just who that someone might be. He

glanced around then looked at the door again. “Fuck,” he hissed softly, hands clamped on his hips. He

stepped away, fairly certain now he wasn’t home–when the inside lock unlatched and the door

opened a few inches. He moved closer. “Gabe. I need to talk to you.”

Gabe licked his lips slowly and glanced past him, then shook his head, “There’s nothing to talk

about, Dane.” His voice was thick, rough, as if he’d been crying, and his bloodshot eyes and flushed,

blotched face backed it up.

“Look, man,” Dane said, “I’m coming in, if I have to force my way through the door.”

“Just please…” Gabe’s eyes glazed with tears. “…go away. You can’t help the situation.”

“What situation?” Dane exclaimed, exasperated. “I don’t even know what the fuck is going on for

sure. Cole is a fucking mess, and he won’t talk about it. So you’re elected to fucking enlighten me.”

Chapter Eleven

Can’t Be Where You Are

Gabe stepped back and opened the door wider. The man wouldn’t be put off, that much was

evident. Although just what the hell he was supposed to tell him, he didn’t have a clue. When Dane

entered, Gabe closed the door but made no move to venture to another room. “I don’t know what you

want me to say,” he mumbled.

His eyes hard, yet confused, Dane said, “I want you to tell me why the fuck you started screwing

around on Cole. Why would you do that, Gabe?” Dane’s voice thickened. “Fuck, man, do you have

any idea what you did to him? You fucking destroyed him.”

You think I don’t fucking know that? Gabe wanted to scream at him, but kept silent, the ever

present lump in his throat swelling thicker. Tears formed and he stared at the floor, unable to look the

man in the eyes. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, throat working, “I didn’t want to hurt him.”

“Fuck that,” Dane snapped. “If you didn’t want to hurt him–you wouldn’t have fucked someone

else. Who is he, Gabe? A customer? Or is there more than just one? What the fuck is wrong with

you?”

The questions punched violently into Gabe’s heart. Dane was just trying to understand his

irrational choices and behavior, and feeling Cole’s pain. But what was he supposed to tell him? How

was he to answer those questions? Dragging them any deeper into his situation with Quint was too

dangerous. He knew Dane, and Cole–and their tempers when it came to the people they loved getting

hurt. They would rush to his “rescue”…and pay for it severely. And not only them, but the others

Gabe loved. Quinton would make an example of them, and take pleasure in doing so.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Gabe whispered, his stare glued to the floor. Tears

collected on his lashed and he blinked slowly, trying to draw them back before they fell free and

alerted Dane to the depth of his anguish in hurting Cole. “Maybe I’m just not cut out to be in a

relationship.” It was a lame answer, but all he had at the moment. Let them think he was just a piece

of shit, he didn’t care as long as it kept them safe.

“Don’t hand me that bullshit, Gabe,” Dane’s voice lowered, even softened. “You were perfectly

content being with Cole. I’ve never seen you as happy as when the two of you finally started dating.

So you can stand there and tell me it just isn’t for you, but don’t expect me to swallow such a shit

story. You think I can’t see how much you’re hurting? If you really didn’t give two fucks about Cole–

you wouldn’t be standing there trying your damnedest not to break down.” He gripped Gabe’s

shoulder. “What is going on, Gabe?”

Dane wasn’t about to be fooled by poorly delivered excuses and lies. But he couldn’t tell him the

truth. “It’s just something I have to deal with,” he said thickly and slowly raised his eyes to Dane’s

face, tears pooling. “And I have to deal with it on my own. So you need to just leave it alone, Dane.

Just leave me alone. There’s nothing you can do.”

Dane’s face tightened, muscles popping as he clenched his jaw. “What the fuck are you talking

about? God! Just fucking tell me!”

“I can’t!” Gabe exploded, his emotions winding out tight. “What the fuck are you even doing

here? I told you not to come here!”

“What am I doing here?” Dane stared at him, incredulous. “We’ve been friends for almost five

fucking years, Gabe! And all of the sudden you’re going AWOL and I’m supposed to just pretend it

isn’t happening?”

“Yes!” Gabe choked, “I told you–leave it alone, Dane! It’s over! Cole and I! Our friendship!

Everything! It’s over! Now get the fuck out!” Sobs stuck in his throat, choking him, as tears rushed

down his face and everything inside him shattered. “Just go!”

Dane’s eyes shimmered, thick with tears, his face tight. “Nothing is over, Gabe,” he murmured

thickly, “I don’t know what the fuck is happening, but this isn’t you.” He jabbed a finger at him. “You

do not get to make the sole decision about our friendship. And I am not going to fucking turn my back

on you.” He licked his lips slowly, voice trembling, “Whether you like it or not, whether you want it

or not–I will be your friend until the day I fucking die.”

That’s what I’m afraid of . Gabe’s stomach twisted up and squeezed with nausea. “Dane,” he

swallowed hard, unsteady, “I’m asking you…please just walk away. Don’t get into this.”

“Into what, Gabe?” The desperate plea in the man to understand cut at Gabe.

Gabe opened the door then cleared his throat and wiped at his face, “I need you to leave, Dane.”

“Gabe…fuck, man. Come on…”

Shaking his head, Gabe avoided his stare. “Just go,” he whispered thickly, “And don’t come

back.”

Dane dragged an unsteady hand over his mouth and stepped towards the door. “I won’t make that

promise,” he murmured, voice strained, “I’m not gonna cut you loose. You’re part of our family,

Gabe. We need you.”

Looking up slowly, Gabe stared at him through watery eyes. “I’m the last thing any of you need

right now,” he trembled, “Just stay away from me. All of you.” He began to close the door as Dane

moved out into the hall and he cast him once last glance. “For your own sake.”

“What—” Dane started, but Gabe closed the door and locked him out.

♦

“Would you consider living overseas?” Horatio held Seth’s hand. The sand retained the warmth

of the afternoon sun though it was it slowly fading, setting on the horizon and casting a golden hue

across the surface of the water. Horatio stopped walking and wrapped his arms around Seth, their

bare feet sinking in the heated sand of the beach. “Perhaps on the French Riviera?”

Seth embraced him, his beautiful face awash in the sunset glow. Up close, the boy’s eyelashes

were thick, dark, and brought out his emerald eyes, which gazed back at Horatio with guarded

emotion, affection. He didn’t blame the young man for being wary with his heart. He had known from

the start the depth of love Horatio had for Max. And only a fool would believe it could turn off over

night. And Seth was no fool.

“I could set you up for classes wherever you wanted to go to school,” Horatio told him. “I

certainly wouldn’t ask you to give up your ambitions.”

Seth rubbed his hands down the front of Horatio’s shirt which was half unbuttoned, exposing a

portion of his chest. The boy’s fingertips tentatively caressed his warm skin. He ducked his head and

smiled, “I think…” he lifted his eyes, “That it’s certainly worth considering.” He slipped his hands

inside Horatio’s shirt, causing a flutter to his stomach. “Is that really what you want?”

His lips tight, Horatio nodded, though it may not have been the complete truth. “I need to make a

life outside of the States,” he murmured, “Sell my penthouse apartment, and leave for good.”

“Are you ready to do that?” Seth asked quietly. There was doubt in his voice, his eyes.

Horatio wasn’t certain of the true, deep down, core of his heart answer to that…he knew the one

he had to give. For himself and for Seth. “Yes,” he kissed Seth’s soft lips, savoring the way they

molded to his mouth, so full of want and passion. “It’s long overdue. I need to take that permanent

step, rather than constantly running away, hiding for a time, then going back. I need to walk away…not

run away. And then stay away.”

This time, Seth didn’t argue the matter but simply slid his arms around him inside his shirt and

caressed his back tenderly. “I am sorry, Horatio,” he whispered, “No one should have to give up such

a great and powerful love as that.”

He had told Seth the truth, about him and Max. The boy needed to understand why Horatio was

letting go, and the lack of risk of him turning away from Seth and going back. He wanted Seth to

understand that it was safe to love him, to consider a life with him. The pain of having to let go would

always be present in Horatio’s heart, but Seth gave him hope that he could love again, even find

happiness with someone other than Max. Maybe it wouldn’t be as all-consuming, but it could still be

good, and fulfilling, and beautiful. Something he could live with.

“Well,” Horatio pressed his head to Seth’s brow. “The fact that I’m ready to finally step away

from all that…for you,” he kissed him again. “That should tell you a lot about how I feel about you.”

“It does,” Seth murmured, “But I think it will always make me sad, that such an amazing love

wasn’t allowed to flourish, and be thoroughly experienced as it should be. It seems so…unfair.”

Horatio felt the sting of those words too prominently. “Whoever said life, or love, was fair?” He

rubbed his hands up and down Seth’s back, and smiled softly, “But I don’t think I’m faring too

poorly.” He kissed him for a long moment, then whispered, “I have you now.”

Pressing closer, Seth shifted his lips to Horatio’s throat. “Make love to me,” he moaned softly,

“Right here, right now.”

The beach was exclusive to the villa Horatio had rented. There was no one to witness their

passion as they slowly undressed one another and their hungry bodies touched the warm sand, a

golden hue tinting their skin. When Seth took Horatio inside him, the growing love in the boy’s heart

wrapped around him, encompassed him as completely as his warm body.

“I’m falling in love with you,” Seth panted softly against his ear, as they moved in a gentle

rhythm. “Is that okay?” He found Horatio’s mouth and kissed him, then slid his fingers through his

hair, lifting his body to him, wanting him, desiring him.

“It is,” Horatio moaned and pushed into him deeper, again and again, arms squeezing the young

man against his trembling body.

“Do you think…” Seth shuddered, “…that you can fall back?”

Claiming another kiss, Horatio groaned and hugged him tighter, fucked him just a little harder, his

breath unsteady as he whispered, “Yes.”

It didn’t take long for their sexually heightened bodies to surrender to one another in full force,

both crying out as they let go and fell into each other a little deeper. Afterwards, they washed off in

the water then walked back to the villa in the nude, carrying their clothes.

Washing one another down in a hot shower, they slipped between the cool, slick sheets of the

large bed and made love again, taking their time, savoring every touch and kiss and sensation the

other provided. Buried deep inside the young man’s body, listening to his whimpers and cries as

Horatio took him higher and higher, closer to release, and quivering beneath Seth’s gripping fingers

and eager, urgent rhythm–Horatio realized that that were different levels of heaven. Max had

introduced him to one of those levels long ago. And now Seth was allowing him to experience

another.

Chapter Twelve

The Devil’s Underground

“Seven o’clock,” Quint’s smile was a satisfied one. “Right on the dot. I like how punctual you’re

becoming, Gabriel.”

Gabe want to tell him–fuck you–but he was so drained he couldn’t manage the vehement thought

much less the verbal spat. Besides, he had to take Quint’s smugness along with everything else. There

was no way of knowing how he would receive a negative remark. He might just laugh it off–and he

might not.

“You said seven,” Gabe mumbled, “I’m here.”

The small glass of amber liquid was gripped lazily in Quint’s hand as he slowly swirled it

around and around. “It’s time you met my special clients. They’re rather eager to meet you in the…”

his eyes slipped down Gabe’s body. “…flesh.”

Gabe stared at him, dropping the veil behind which all his anxieties and nausea resided. The man

had taken enough from him–he wasn’t about to let him see how unsettled he truly was about all this.

Even how scared he was to be thrust into the hands of Quint’s “special” customers.

“There’s a change of clothes for you,” Quint motioned towards the large bed on the far side of

the den. “It’s imperative you dress for the occasion.” He smiled dryly and sipped his drink. “You do

want to make a great first impression, don’t you?”

Gabe just looked at him then walked across the expansive room and climbed the three carpeted

steps to the bed. A silver G-string lay atop a black silk robe. Numbing his mind, Gabe undressed.

When he grabbed the underwear, Quint was right there, gripping his arm.

“Not just yet,” he spoke low and produced a small bottle of body oil. “Got to slick you up for the

proper effect.” When he opened the bottle, Gabe caught the mild musk scent; faint, not gaudy. “Want

you smelling real good too. When a man is tantalized by the scent of what he craves, it enhances his

lust to possess it.”

He dumped some oil into his palm then set the bottle aside and rubbed his hands together. Gabe

tensed when he began to rub down his body, applying added oil when needed. His bold hands

squeezed Gabe’s ass cheeks, spreading oil in between, his greased fingers nudging his hole which

instinctively sucked away from the man’s unwelcome touch.

“You truly are beautiful, Gabriel,” Quint murmured with a rasp of lust to his voice as he moved

around in front of Gabe. He dribbled more oil into his palm then coated Gabe’s cock; rubbing,

stroking, his hands slippery around his member, working him until he began to stiffen. He rolled his

oiled palm around the head of his dick, massaging the crown with his slick fingertips. Gabe tightened

his jaw as the sensation gradually brought him to full erection. It sickened him to get hard for the man,

but it was a pure physical reaction; he couldn’t stop it.

Smiling with satisfaction once more, Quint rubbed oil into his balls, squeezing and working them

as they grew more firm in his grasp, tightening up a bit as they filled with cum. “Like that, don’t you?”

Quint groaned, taking hold of his cock again and sliding his oiled hands up and down the shaft. Gabe

didn’t answer but merely looked away, a tightness to his eyes and face as the man’s hands pumped

him thoroughly. He bit back a puff of breath and swallowed hard, refusing to let his hips thrust his

dick through Quint’s fists.

When the man finally released him, Gabe felt a rush of mild relief. Quint commenced to oil up his

stomach and chest and arms, then dropped to his knees and coated his legs all the way down to his

ankles. Uncaring of the scented oil, Quint flicked his tongue against the v-groove on the underside of

his cock head. Gabe jerked unintentionally, his member twitching. The groan escaped him before he

could pull it back. His cock began to drool as the guy teased the sensitive area until his erection was

stiff as a steel rod and reaching upward towards his stomach, straining with arousal.

“There we go,” Quint stood up and licked his lips. “They need to see what they’ll be getting.” He

nodded at the garments. “Go ahead and get dressed now.” He returned to the other side of the room as

Gabe pulled on the G-string then wrapped the robe around him and tied the silk belt.

He stared at the bed, and got a sudden vision of Cole’s bed–the two of them wrapped up in each

other, so passionate, so…in love. How could a man lose everything in the blink of an eye?

Clearing his throat, he pushed away the emotion, the thoughts of his now former life. It only hurt

to think about it. It gave no comfort. The good memories of him and Cole didn’t soothe his soul. They

were torture, chewing him up and spitting him out. He didn’t want to think about Cole. He didn’t want

to think about anyone, or anything.

“You ready then?” Quint came back over. Gabe nodded. Flicking his fingers for Gabe to follow,

Quint led the way to a rear door in a concealed section of the Clubhouse. The door opened onto a

staircase that led down into a basement area; but it wasn’t one of those horror movie basements with

the rickety wooden steps and creepy dark cellar full of rats and spiders. No, these stairs were solid

and carpeted, the handrail polished wood. Though the area below was dimly lit, there was enough

light to see that the floor was carpeted and the room furnished with expensive furniture and fixtures.

Gabe followed Quint through the first room, glancing at the leather sofa and arm chairs, the small

bar of polished cherry wood, brass lamps. They entered a second door, ventured through a short, dark

hallway then emerged into another room that was considerably darker than the first. Comfortable

armchairs were placed in a strategic circle with an open area of floor space in the center. Though he

couldn’t make out their features through the shadows, Gabe could see that each chair was occupied.

The distinct odor of cigar smoke drifted on the air, and there was the occasional clink of ice against

glass. One or two of the faceless men cleared their throat discreetly. Some shifted in their seats.

Leading him to the center of the floor amidst the men, Quint told him to stand there. He left the

circle and a moment later, a pale red light poured down on him from above, spotlighting him. The

crimson glow washed over the faces of the clients, conjuring the illusion of demons. Or was it an

illusion?

From what he could tell, most of them were dressed in suits and had a distinguished air about

them. Though Gabe suspected that what they wanted to do to him was anything but distinguished.

Gabe glanced from one face to another, a chill creeping into his skin; he was at the sole mercy of

Quint and his clients.

And that wasn’t a place Gabe felt at all comfortable being.

♦

When the garbage bags began to accumulate in each room of the apartment, stuffed with anything

and everything that brought Gabe to mind–Cole began to realize every fucking thing in there had Gabe

attached to it. So either he continued with a clean sweep and started over from scratch, or he aborted

his mission to cleanse his life of the man he had been certain he would spend forever with.

Dropping down on the sofa, a chilled bottle of Coors in his fist, Cole wiped the back of his hand

across his brow. He hadn’t known what hot and sweaty work it was eradicating someone from one’s

life. When he dragged his hand down his damp, heated face, he was assaulted by memories of his and

Gabe’s sweat slick, hot bodies moving together urgently, hands grabbing and groping. His vision

blurred and he took a long drink of beer, using it to wash down the tears clogging his throat. On the

tail of that vision, came the one of Gabe fucking Quinton. It would forever plague him, he knew this

with certainty.

He thought about going to the club, maybe finding another customer to distract him, but last night

with Ryland still had his stomach knotted up and feeling sick. The guilt that had swarmed him

afterwards–as if he had cheated on Gabe–had left him both pissed and in despair. How could he feel

that way? How could even give a fuck?

He sniffed as tears crept down his face. His hand dragged across his cheek then he swallowed

more beer. He didn’t want to be here alone, but neither was he in the mood to be around people. The

lesser of the two evils, baby–take your pick.

His gaze drifted around the dim living room, lit only by one lamp. Everywhere he looked, he saw

Gabe; his smiling face, mischievous baby blues sparkling with a special brand of cocky love that

totally enraptured Cole and put him at the man’s mercy. His chin trembled, heart aching. His eyes

flooded. “God dammit, Gabe,” he cried, “I miss you so fucking bad! Why did you do this to us?

WHY?!” A strangled cry tore from him and he threw the beer bottle, smashing it against the wall.

“Why! How could you fucking do this? God!”

He leaned forward, elbows gouging his thighs as he clawed his hair, shaking with sobs.

“What the fuck,” he gasped, voice rattling wetly in his throat, “Why would you do this to me? I

thought…” He raised his head a little, face dripping as he stared blankly at the dark television screen.

“I thought you loved me.”

A shuddering sigh escaped him and he dropped back against the sofa, wanting to sleep but afraid

to close his eyes. When his cell phone rang, he considered ignoring it. But he’d had it turned off most

of the day, and if he didn’t answer soon, Dane or Max would come to check up on him.

“Yeah?” he rasped thickly when he pressed the phone to his ear.

“Cole?” Dane sounded anxious and for a moment, a needle of fear shot through him; after the

incident with Angel and then Maddy, he was instantly on edge that something else bad had happened.

“What is it?” Cole sat forward and cleared his throat. “Are Angel and Maddy okay?”

“Yeah,” Dane assured, “They’re fine.”

“Good,” Cole leaned back again, that particular anxiety leaving him. “What do you want then?”

A notable hesitation before Dane spoke with a tightness to his voice, “I need to talk to you about

Gabe.”

Cole closed his eyes; couldn’t this guy get it through his fucking head that there was nothing to

talk about? He swallowed thickly and whispered stiffly, “No. I have nothing to say about that fucker.

So change the subject or I’m hanging up the fucking phone.”

“Cole,” Dane spoke low, uncertain. “I don’t want to talk about…that. Something else. I think

there’s something going on with him that he hasn’t told us.”

“No shit,” Cole muttered, “But I really don’t give a fuck. Call someone who fucking cares.”

“Cole—”

Cole snapped the phone closed hard, his face tight, twitching with quiet rage. Of course the man

was engaging in shit he wasn’t being honest about. Cole was quite aware of that bit of reality. He

threw his cell down on the cushion and it bounced to edge and fell to the floor. He didn’t bother

retrieving it; he had no intentions of talking to anyone again tonight anyway.

He collected himself a couple more beers from the refrigerator, returned to the sofa and turned on

the TV. He popped the cap off one of the bottles and guzzled half the contents then wiped his mouth,

tears distorting the images on the screen, unaware that his thoughts were drifting…wondering just

who Gabe was fucking tonight and if it gave him some kind of power rush to have broken Cole’s heart

so irreparably.

Chapter Thirteen

Of Pain & Pleasure

“Open your robe, Gabriel.” Quint stood outside the circle, just beyond the reach of the crimson

glow that left the men’s faces awash in a bloody hue. Gabe couldn’t see the man as his voice drifted

to him. “Show them the merchandise.”

Unfastening the silk belt, Gabe tugged it loose and let the front of the black robe fall open. His

tight eyes skipped from one lustful face to another. None of the men spoke directly to Gabe, or even to

Quint, though they murmured soft, low among themselves. The client directly across from him

appeared to be about forty, the exact color of his dark suit lost in the blood red light. His right ankle

rested on the opposite knee and he slowly drew a cigar to his lips, his heavy gaze surveying Gabe

from head to foot. The cigar smoke sifted back out between his lips as he lowered his hand then

motioned absently at Gabe. “Take off the robe,” he murmured. His voice was deep, very masculine

and resonated an air of authority. He was definitely an alpha male.

Gabe let the sleek robe slide off his shoulders then drop to the floor around his feet. Never in his

life had he felt more exposed–even vulnerable–as he did right then. At the club, he didn’t think

anything of walking around nearly naked, he was never self-conscious. It was his job at the Phoenix to

fuel the men’s lustful natures. But here…the customers were the ones in control–and he didn’t like

that. Lustful men had a tendency to lose control if they weren’t reined in properly. And there were no

“leashes” on these animals.

The man motioned again, the air catching smoke from the cigar and holding it in place for a

moment before it began to dissipate. “Walk the circle.” The others murmured and nodded.

Rather than walk straight to the man, Gabe stepped to his left and ventured the perimeter of the

floor, passing in front of each man. Where he had expected hands to reach out and grope him, no one

touched him, merely looked. He stopped when he approached the man who had spoken to him. The

client continued to sit with his ankle on his knee, casually smoking his cigar. Though to the naked eye,

his gaze might have appeared disinterested, Gabe knew better; veiled or not, he knew lust when he

saw it.

“Turn around,” the man murmured. When Gabe obeyed, he heard the client’s foot touch down on

the carpet, barely audible, the leather of the chair moan slightly as the man sat forward. Gabe stared

straight ahead, looking through the other clients as this man’s face touched his ass. Slightly course

beard stubble grazed his ass cheek as the guy seemed to be lightly rubbing his face against his

exposed skin. Then the man breathed deep as his lips and nose brushed the crease of Gabe’s ass.

“Mmm,” he moaned low, “You smell quite lovely.”

Had this been Cole doing these things, it would have turned him on like mad. But this fucker just

creeped him out.

Thumbs were suddenly in the crack of his ass, probing his hole, testing the tightness of the ring of

muscle at his entrance. The man squeezed one thumb tip through the band. Gabe felt his hot breath

beginning to puff just a little against his ass cheeks. Outwardly, the client remained composed, in

control–but inwardly, the sexual heat was beginning to circulate.

Drawing back, the man turned Gabe around to face him. He rubbed his palms down over Gabe’s

crotch, pressed his thumbs against his solid cock through the G-string, then peeled the front down until

Gabe’s member dropped loose and hung heavy before his face. There remained a level solidity to the

muscle from Quint’s attention just a short while ago.

The client brushed his lips against the shaft then again raked his beard stubble cheek to the bare

flesh. What the fuck was with this guy rubbing his face all over him? Another barely audible moan

released from his throat, seeping out through his nostrils. He fingered Gabe’s cock almost tentatively

as if studying it, sizing him up somehow. He lifted the shaft, stroking the pad of his thumb along the

underside, pressing firmly, bumping over the rope-like muscle, stretching his skin, then massaged the

crown and surface of the head. Gabe felt more like he was being examined than anything else. And

something in that was creepy as well.

His cock was pushed up against his lower stomach and held there with a firm palm while the

client’s other hand groped his balls, squeezing, twisting, and tugging. What the fuck you looking for?

Gabe almost blurted out, they’re fucking balls. What else do you expect to find down there?

The palm released and his member dropped back down–then jumped when the man wrapped his

lips around the crown. His tongue pumped against the tip of the cock head, creating a powerful

suction that hardened Gabe’s dick in a hurry.

Moments later, Gabe’s cock was tucked back inside the G-string underwear and the client was

leaning back in his chair again as casually as if he hadn’t just groped and fondled and sucked him.

“Well?” Quint spoke from the shadows.

The client’s ankle was back on his knee, his elbow propped on the arm of his chair and his chin

resting in the crook of his thumb and index finger as he gazed at Gabe. “He’s lovely indeed,”

“Shall we start the bidding?” Quint asked.

The other clients nodded.

“No,” the man said quietly, never taking his eyes off Gabe. “I claim the buyout bid.”

A sweep of low, tense murmurs passed through the other men. They didn’t seem in favor of this

action.

“You are aware of the cost of a buyout bid?” Quint confirmed.

“I am.”

“Then the bidding is closed,” Quint said, then to appease the remaining disgruntled clients,

added, “Gentlemen, I assure you…there is plenty to go around. You will all get your turn.”

Gabe wondered how much the buyout bid truly was–and just what the client planned to do with

him now that he owned him.

♦

“What all did Gabe say to you?” Dane’s question came out of the blue and caused Angel to falter

with an answer.

“When?” he asked. They were in the kitchen, sitting at the table. Dinner had been over for an

hour and Maddy was out in the living room watching TV. Carl had come by earlier and taken Max to

the club.

“The night he brought you home,” Dane said, “At the hospital. Anytime.”

“He…” Angel’s brow pinched. “He didn’t say anything to me the night I overheard his phone

call.”

“And at the hospital?”

His gaze downcast, Angel whispered, “He said he didn’t mean it,” he raised his eyes, feeling the

sting.

“Didn’t mean what?” Dane asked quietly and took Angel’s hand, squeezing it gently.

“What he said on the phone, about…about not loving Cole.” Angel’s heart ached at the recent

memory; so much hurt had reflected back from the man’s eyes, his words. “He cried, Dane. He said

he loved Cole more than anything, that there was nothing he wouldn’t do for him. He said he loved us

all.” A tear slid down Angel’s face and Dane wiped it away. “So why would he…” he shook his

head, “Why would he do that to Cole? Why would he leave us?”

“I don’t know,” Dane’s voice strained. He met Angel’s gaze. “Did he say anything else?”

“No, he…” Angel faltered, brow tightening.

“What?” Dane frowned. “Is there something more?”

Licking his lips, Angel cleared his throat. “I’m not sure,” he said quietly, “When I started to ask

him why he would say he didn’t love Cole, if he really didn’t mean it…he cut me off and told me not

ask him things he couldn’t answer.”

“What did he mean by that?” Dane’s frown deepened, cutting grooves across his forehead.

“I don’t know,” Angel shrugged, throat tight, “He just said that all I needed to know was that he

loved Cole, and all of us. And there was nothing he wouldn’t do for us.”

Dane ducked his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Something isn’t adding up here,” he

murmured, “If he cared so much, it don’t make sense him screwing around on Cole.”

Twisting his fingers through Dane’s, Angel whispered, “He would tell us if he was in trouble,

wouldn’t he?”

“You think he’s in trouble?”

Angel shrugged, “I don’t know. It’s just…” his lips tightened. “When I talked to him at the

hospital, he seemed…” he shook his head, face tight, “I don’t know, like something was really

wrong.”

He looked at Dane and the man stared blankly at the table, then murmured, “Yeah, that’s the vibe

I was getting when I went to his apartment. He wouldn’t tell me anything. Pretty much kicked me out

and told me not come back, but…”

“What?”

“I don’t know,” he licked his lips and frowned, “There was this desperation in his voice, or

something, like he needed me to go away,” he looked at Angel, “Not like he wanted me to.”

Tears squeezed Angel’s throat. “What’s happening with him, Dane?” he whispered, a cold fear

digging into his gut. “What if something is wrong?”

Fear and uncertainty darkened Dane’s eyes. “I don’t know, Angel. I can’t make him tell me.”

“If Cole went to him,” Angel asked, grasping at straws, “Do you think he would tell him?”

“Cole won’t go,” Dane sighed. “Fuck, I can’t even get him to talk about any of it. The man is

hurting, and angry. And right now, he just wants to forget about Gabe, wants to eradicate him from his

life.”

“Well…” Angel swallowed thickly, desperation clenching his heart. “What’re we gonna do,

Dane?” His vision blurred. “This is the first real family Maddy and I have ever had, I can’t lose it.

Any part of it.”

“Hey,” Dane gripped his hands and brought them to his lips. “We’re not losing anyone. We’ll get

Gabe back.” He kissed his hands. “Okay?”

Angel nodded. “Okay,” he whispered. He had no idea just how Dane planned to get him back, but

the love and determination in the man’s eyes convinced Angel he would make it happen.

♦

Cole was barely aware of leaving his apartment and getting in his car. He didn’t know he was

going to the club until he was parked outside, staring at the building. The Phoenix was packed with all

kinds of distractions, every shape and size, right there for the picking. He wasn’t sure just what he

was in the mood for as he shoved open the car door and climbed out. But he needed a fix, his drug of

choice to make reality go away for a while. The guilt that would find its way back on him afterwards

was irrelevant at the moment; he needed the escape. And he needed it right fucking now.

He wiped his hand irritably across his wet eyes, pissed at himself that he was still crying over

that bastard.

The man walked by just when Cole was about to step away from the car. He had a nice walk, a

nice body perfectly encased in a silk suit, the slacks hugging his ass beautifully. He reeked of class,

sophistication. Cole stepped forward. “Hey.”

His steps faltering, the man glanced around uncertainly. “Are you speaking to me?”

Cole smiled and leaned back against the car. “I am.”

“You’re…” the guy narrowed his eyes slightly, his lips twitching. “You’re one of the dancers,

aren’t you? I’ve seen you on stage, and around the club.”

Holding up his hands, Cole grinned, “Guilty as charged.”

“So what are you doing out here,” the man approached him slowly, his gaze surveying him up and

down, a sensual tone seeping into his voice. “All alone in the dark?” he smiled, very sexy. “Aren’t

you frightened?”

“What’s to be afraid of in the dark?” Cole’s tongue slid out across his lower lip, playing along.

The man’s eyes lingered on his mouth. “Some naughty man might take advantage of you.”

A smile curved Cole’s lips. “Not if I take advantage of him first.”

That’s it, baby, come a little closer.

Chuckling softly, the guy moved in with a casual pace, not coming off as too eager, though the

want was definitely in his eyes. “I can imagine it could be an exciting thing to be taken advantage of

by a man like you.”

Cole raised an eyebrow and smiled coolly, “Want to find out?”

The man was close, barely a foot away. A faint whiff of expensive cologne reached Cole’s

nostrils. It was nothing akin to the stench on Gabe’s pillow and he was thankful. Had the man been

wearing the same shit, Cole would have had to turn him away.

“Indeed,” the man stepped closer, in between Cole’s parted stance, and touched his body to

Cole’s just enough to let him feel the rock hard bulge between his thighs–and one hell of a bulge it

was. Cole’s crotch fizzled with excitement and his rear door pulsed with anticipation of something so

large pushing into it.

Cole leaned forward just a bit and brushed his lips against the man’s mouth. “I’m Cole,” he

breathed, eyes heavy.

The man didn’t grab the kiss right there for the taking, but instead whispered, “Lex.”

Chapter Fourteen

Good Guys & Bad Guys

“I trust you won’t give our client any problems.” Quint spoke to Gabe away from the other men

who were disbanding. All but the buyer who remained seated, casually smoking his cigar.

“No,” Gabe said dully.

“Good,” Quint smiled and Gabe wanted to knock it off his face. The way the man’s lips twisted,

it was obvious he was detecting the urge within Gabe. “Go back upstairs and get dressed while I

finalize the buyout. Then you will leave with the client, and for the next two days, you will be his

possession to do with as he pleases. Do you understand?”

Gabe stared at him and considered a sarcastic remark, but thought better of it and merely nodded,

“Yes.”

The other clients lingered, some speaking with Quint when he left Gabe. Upstairs, Gabe

discarded the G-String and pulled on his clothes. He fought the urge to walk out of there and just

leave the city that night, get as far away as he could and pray they didn’t find him. And had it not been

for those he loved, he might have done just that. But Quint would be quick to exact revenge on Cole

and the others. And Gabe would die before he let them fall into Quint’s hands.

Quint and the client emerged from the lower level less than twenty minutes later. There was no

sign of the other men, and Gabe suspected there may be an alternate entrance/exit to the sublevel,

more discreet than even the entrance to the clubhouse.

Very little was exchanged between Gabe and Quint, and the client spoke not a word to Gabe as

Gabe followed him out of the building. They climbed into a limo that pulled up the moment they

emerged. Gabe had no real idea what to expect from this man, but understood that no one paid such a

high price for a simple, typical fuck. Somewhere underneath that debonair exterior, lurked a depraved

creature, Gabe was sure of it.

The man avoided eye contact, though it wasn’t out of shame or anything of the like. It was as if

his buyer didn’t see him as his equal, or possibly not as human at all, and refused to debase himself

by looking him in the eye. Gabe took the opportunity to study the man’s face. He was handsome

enough, his sable hair professionally styled, cut short. A mere shadow of a mustache grazed his upper

lip and the beard stubble Gabe had felt against his ass and cock was hardly visible but still neatly

kept in line with the curve of his jaw. The suit appeared tailor-made for him personally. The only

thing missing was his tie, which Gabe had been sure was present when they were down in the auction

room.

No more than fifteen minutes into the drive, the man reached up and pressed the call button to the

driver. “Stop the car.”

The limo rolled to a stop and sat motionless, idling.

Gabe glanced out the deeply tinted windows, but they were no place special–merely parked at

the curb. The client reached into his jacket pocket and retrieved the elusive tie then finally looked at

Gabe. “Kneel,” he pointed at the carpeted floor before him.

His eyes tight, Gabe slid off the leather seat and knelt in front of the man. The tie was wrapped

around his eyes and secured almost uncomfortably, causing a slight throb in the back of Gabe’s head.

“You can sit.”

Reaching behind him, Gabe grabbed the edge of the seat and settled back on it. Wherever the man

was taking him–he didn’t want Gabe privy to the directions.

♦

Cole was fully aware of just who Lex was. The customer Angel had latched onto the night all

hell broke loose, and left with from the club. It hadn’t been a random act on Cole’s part when he’d

grabbed the man’s attention. The guy clearly enjoyed doing much more than simply watching, and

Cole wasn’t in the Show-n-Tell mood–he needed much more as well.

His hands rested on Lex’s hips as the man pushed up closer to him, gently pinning Cole to the car

as he toyed with the buttons of Cole’s shirt. “You know,” he spoke low, and Cole decided he liked

his voice. “I usually go for the more tender boys, but…” He dragging his hands down Cole’s chest

and stomach then rubbed back up again. “I’m not exclusive.”

Tender boys . Like Angel? Cole smiled and pulled the man harder against him, dropping his

hands down on Lex’s ass. “That’s good to know…that you’re not exclusive to the tender boys.” The

man rolled his hips, grinding his immense cock into Cole’s crotch, pulling a groan from deep inside

Cole. “Have to say,” Cole murmured, “I’m loving the feel of your goods.”

Lex’s mouth went to his throat and he moved his hips against him, rocking gently but with enough

firmness to thoroughly stimulate Cole’s cock. “Do you think you can handle all this?” Lex moaned.

Cole chuckled low, “I think I can accommodate you.”

Sucking his neck, Lex’s fingers worked efficiently at unfastening the buttons of Cole’s shirt, then

his hands were inside, caressing bare skin, his mouth moving lower. Cole groaned hard when the man

clamped onto a nipple and sucked him with a bit of force.

“Fuck…”

“Yes,” Lex rubbed his lips across Cole’s mouth, “Let’s.”

“Right here?” Cole smirked. Honestly he didn’t care if they did go at it right there against the car;

what the fuck did he care who saw them?

“Well,” Lex puffed softly, “As hot as that would be, it really isn’t in my best interest to get caught

fucking a stripper in the parking lot of a strip club.” The corner of his mouth quirked, “I do have an

image to uphold.” He glanced down a few spaces where his limo was parked. “Join me in my

limousine?”

Cole smiled as the man stepped back then led the way to the car.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Cole expected full on fucking. In fact–it was what he

had been hoping for. But when he knelt between Lex’s knees and began to work at his pants, the man

covered his hands and halted his progress. “Easy, baby,” he laughed softly, “No need to rush.”

But there was a need–for Cole.

“Look,” An unexpected thickness squeezed Cole’s voice. “I like you and all, could even imagine

just sitting down and talking with you sometime, but right now…” he shook his head and swallowed

hard, “Right now, I need to fuck.” The sound of his own desperation was heavy in his own ears–there

was no way Lex was missing it.

“What’s the hurry?” Lex asked sincerely, still holding his hands, preventing them from delving

into his crotch.

Cole drew back as his emotions began to churn. He couldn’t control them–one minute he had

them safely at bay, and the next they were bubbling over. He couldn’t get a handle on them, and that’s

why he needed the distraction that meaningless sex afforded. “Does it matter?” he asked thickly.

“Of course,” Lex murmured, “Why wouldn’t it? We’re not animals.”

I wish we were, Cole thought, too aware of the hurt in his heart, at least then there would be no

risk of loving someone and getting our heart ripped out.

“Well it doesn’t matter to me,” Cole whispered, “Do you want to fuck or not?”

Lex touched Cole’s face, slid his thumb slowly, tenderly across his cheek. He shifted his eyes as

they began to burn. Don’t touch me that way . He didn’t need anything to remind him of Gabe’s touch.

“I’ve seen this look before,” Lex said quietly, “Hurt and despair. Desperation.” He scooted forward

on the seat and slid his fingers through Cole’s hair then kissed his lips softly. “I saw it in the eyes of

an angel…who was trapped in hell.”

“What’re you talking about?” Cole mumbled and turned his face away, but of course he knew.

Lex touched Cole’s chin and urged him to look at him again, then caressed his lips with his

thumb. “What kind of hell are you in, Cole?”

The man’s face blurred and shimmered. “I’m not here for a heart to heart,” he whispered

unsteadily, “I need distraction. Can you provide it or not?”

Nodding slowly, Lex murmured, “I can. But when we’re done, whatever you’re trying to shut

out…it’s still going to be there.”

“I don’t need a fucking therapist,” Cole choked tightly, though he wondered if that was exactly

what he needed. “I just need someone to fuck.”

Lex just looked at him, though Cole carefully avoided direct eye contact, then slipped off his

jacket, removed his tie then slowly pushed Cole down on the floor. He finished unfastening Cole’s

shirt and Cole shrugged out of it. Lex removed his own then rubbed his hands up Cole’s body.

“You’re a very beautiful man, Cole,” he murmured the pushed up and straddled Cole’s hips and

looked at him in that way that made Cole anxious and uncomfortable. He needed to see only lust in the

man’s eyes–and nothing else. “Have you done this before?”

Frowning, Cole finally met his stare. “What?”

“Solicited a customer for sex,” Lex said. “You never struck me as someone who would break

club policy.

“People change,” Cole muttered as Gabe’s face rose unbidden in his mind.

Lex nodded and fingered the snap of Cole’s pants. “Are you sure this is what you want to do?”

His throat tightening, Cole whispered, “Yes.”

“As you wish,” Lex opened Cole’s pants then scooted down, dragging them off his legs along

with his briefs. Lex gazed at his hardened cock with a look akin to adoration. “You truly are

beautiful.” He pushed Cole’s legs apart and slid his hands up his thighs, leaning down and kissing his

warm skin.

Cole groaned and closed his eyes briefly, shoving his hands through his hair. Images of Gabe

down between his legs tried to surface and he resisted them with vehemence; they had no place in his

thoughts anymore. A sharp breath sucked down his throat when Lex’s mouth covered his cock and

took him in slowly then sucked him with so much sensuality it brought unwelcome tears to his eyes.

Don’t be tender! He wanted to scream, Just fuck me–don’t make love to me!

But the man continued to stroke him gently, his warm, soft mouth gliding smoothly up and down

his stiff erection, his hands caressing his thighs and up over his stomach then down across his hips.

The tenderness in the man was beginning to cause Cole physical pain; this wasn’t what he’d had in

mind.

Cole choked on a sob and grabbed Lex’s head, pushing the man off him. He wouldn’t look at him

but kept his eyes closed, tight. “Stop,” he swallowed thickly, “Don’t do it like that. Just…” Another

sob broke in his throat. “Just treat me like a piece of ass.”

Lex moved up over him and kissed his mouth, and still Cole wouldn’t open his eyes–behind

which a well of tears were trapped. “I can’t do that, Cole,” Lex whispered, “I like you too much.”

“I don’t want you to like me,” Cole trembled. He could feel the tears swelling against the corners

of his eyelids, trying to squeeze out.

“Why?” Lex murmured and kissed him again, rubbing the back of his fingers against his cheeks.

“Why don’t you want me to like you, Cole?”

Cole began to shake as a rush of sobs gripped him and he covered his eyes with his arm.

“Because it hurts too fucking bad.”

The man remained where he was for a moment, stroking Cole’s cheeks, then backed off. “Come

on,” Lex said quietly.

Cole opened his eyes slowly, warm tears draining out. “What’re you doing?”

“Not this,” he told him, “Not right now anyway. Get dressed.”

Scooting up, Cole sat with his back against the opposite seat from Lex. “Look,” he cleared his

throat and wiped at his eyes, “I’m sorry. I just…” Tears welled again and he looked away. “I just

found out my boyfriend was cheating on me, so I’m kind of fucked up. But we can do this. I want to do

it.”

“Well, we can consider that later,” Lex gazed at him, and the “playful”, sexual man in search of

some cock from back at Cole’s car was nowhere to be found. “First, why don’t we go back to my

place, order in a nice meal, relax and get to know each other? Sound good?”

And it did, Cole realized with a bit of shock.

He nodded silently and began to dress.

Chapter Fifteen

A Picture Worth A Thousand Words

“If you have something on your mind,” Two ice cubes clinked in the empty scotch glass. Quint

removed the cap on the bottle of scotch and filled the glass half full. He glanced at Clint as he

replaced the cap and set the bottle aside. “By all means, share with the class.”

Clint watched the man sip the liquor, eyes trained on him. There was nothing in those eyes.

Nothing human anyway. He had to wonder just what it was he and the others were being loyal to.

Quint was a dangerous playmate, and Clint proceeded with caution. “You auctioned Gabriel to

O’Brian.” It wasn’t a question, or even an accusation really, just an…observation.

“O’Brian claimed the buyout bid,” Quint confirmed.

The glass of bourbon twisted slowly on the top of the bar before Clint as he stared at the contents

of his drink. Just what he was hoping to accomplish by even talking about this, he didn’t know. “You

know what he will do to him.”

“Of course.” Quint took another sip of scotch, unaffected by what he had done.

The man’s eyes glimmered with a spark of satisfaction. When Quint had brought Gabriel back in

after Nathan’s death, Clint had been sure the man would simply use him for his own sick pleasures–

Quint had always had an obsession with Gabriel, as well as being dangerously jealous of the guy. He

hadn’t really expected Quint to auction him off in the circle.

You hate him that much? That you would have him humiliated and tortured to such a severe

degree?

Clint’s stomach began to hurt. He liked Gabriel, had always liked him. They all had. It was

Nathan who had ultimately sent him away, made Gabriel promise to get away from this life and never

come back. And Clint suspected that the man hadn’t been oblivious to his own son’s bitter obsession

with Gabriel. Nathan was well aware of Quint’s twisted mind, and perhaps he had sent Gabriel away

for that very reason–to keep him away from Quint.

Nathan had had no intentions of collecting on Gabriel’s debt to him. And if he had, he would’ve

allowed Gabriel to pay it off in a way that was honorable.

“Are we going to have a problem, Clint?” Quinton murmured as he raised the glass to his lips a

third time.

“No,” Clint murmured and lifted his own glass, taking a drink. Anthony sat at the end of the small

bar, saying nothing, but surely taking in every word. Anthony was no fool –he would know Clint was

deeply troubled by Quint’s dealings with Gabriel. But no doubt, so was he. Anthony harbored no love

for Quint, as did none of them.

“Good to know,” Quint winked at him, “You’re a smart man.” He set his glass on the bar and

walked out without another word or glance towards Clint or Anthony. He suspected it gave the man a

sense of superiority to dismiss them so easily as if they mattered not for shit. Quint didn’t like them

anymore than they liked him. But he had them by the balls with their oath of loyalty to Nathan and the

Sanitini family and organization. And when Quinton said “Jump”–their only acceptable response was

how high?

“Clint,” There was a note of warning to Anthony’s tone. He drank from a long neck, having never

been one with a taste for liquor, then turned the bottle in circles on the polished bar. “We can’t help

him.”

No immediate response came from Clint, his focus on the dark liquid in his glass. He had never

seen O’Brian’s handiwork himself, but he’d heard enough rumors to know they couldn’t all be

fabricated. And the fact that Quint handed Gabriel over to the man was reason enough to believe the

stories. And the stories told a dark tale of a class 4 sexual sadist.

Had the man not chosen a prominent political position–Clint was convinced he would currently

be holding a spot on the F.B.I.’s Most Wanted list.

“He won’t kill him,” Anthony murmured without raising his eyes.

Clint stared in the mirror behind the bar at his own reflection and wondered if he was really any

different from Quint or O’Brian. He sipped his bourbon. “Sometimes what they do to them while

they’re still alive…is worse than death.”

Anthony didn’t reply.

♦

The only words the man spoke to him were in the form of commands. Gabe was directed from the

limousine with the blindfold intact and escorted into a building; either a private building or one with

a private entrance. He doubted the man would traipse him through a public lobby with Gabe

blindfolded.

They entered an elevator and moments later stepped out. Gabe had the sense of a hotel, but he

suspected this was an alternate dwelling. Soon after leaving the elevator, the man instructed him to

turn around. His wrists were bound with a thin, slick band that cut into his skin painfully tight. He was

ordered to sit and felt a cushion touch his rear as he sank down.

“You will wait here until I come for you,” the man instructed.

“Okay,” Gabe mumbled, head ducked. The slap caught him off guard and hurt like hell, causing

his eyes to tear up behind the binding tie.

“Do not speak unless I demand an answer,” his fingers sank into Gabe’s hair and gripped, tilting

Gabe’s head up. He could feel and smell the man’s breath on his face. “Do you understand?”

A direct question demanding of an answer.

“Yes,” Gabe offered cautiously and half expected another powerful slap across the face, but the

blow wasn’t delivered as the client released his hair and Gabe heard his muffled footsteps on a thick

carpet as he walked away. Seconds later, a door closed. Gabe tested his wrist restraints. He knew

better than to try and get out of them, but they were pinching his skin like a motherfucker and a

numbness was creeping into his fingers. But working his wrists only managed to cause them to grip

tighter, and he was pretty sure if he continued to struggle with them, his wrists would begin to bleed.

Gabe took a moment to imagine the thin straps severing an artery and allowing him to just bleed

out and be done with this life, but of course the thought was ridiculous on multiple levels. He leaned

back and discovered a hard wall, no backrest to the bench, and leaned his head against the unyielding

surface. How the fuck had he ended up here? He might have found it humorous to some degree if he

didn’t understand that this man who had a paid a shitload for him was a real threat.

Just how much of a threat remained to be seen. So no, there was nothing fucking “funny” about

this. The guy was clearly playing out some form of “dominant” fantasy, and some of those fuckers

could get pretty sick and twisted. He had no qualms with controlled, “safe” bdsm activities, though it

wasn’t really his thing. But somehow he didn’t think this man was going to be offering him any safe

words.

Down what Gabe assumed was a hall, the door opened but didn’t close, and footsteps

approached. “Get up,” the man ordered. When Gabe stood, he took his arm and ushered him through

the open door then closed it. A lock clicked. Gabe had no sense of his surroundings or what the man

was doing, for he remained silent though he could hear him moving around. When he came up behind

him, he spoke close to Gabe’s head. “I’m going to remove the blindfold. You will not move until I

instruct you to do so. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Gabe tried to adopt the submissive tone he assumed the man expected to hear in his voice.

The tie was tugged loose then lifted away from his eyes. He blinked a few times. The lamp light

wasn’t overly bright, but seemed that way at the moment. He longed to rub his eyes but his hands

were still bound, and he suspected any “unrequested” movement would result in some form of

“punishment”.

“I am going to remove your restraints,” he said tonelessly, “Then you will undress.”

Gabe didn’t reply, waiting for him to ask if he understood. But he didn’t ask as he worked loose

the cutting straps around Gabe’s wrists. His arms dropped to his sides.

“Undress.”

His hands aching and partially numb, Gabe fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, his fingers not

wanting to work. He steeled himself for some form of reprimand for taking too long, but the man

simply stood back behind him. The shirt came off, then his pants, followed by his briefs. He attempted

to empty his mind, not think about what this man had planned, but his thoughts propelled back to

Cole’s apartment, his accusations that Gabe didn’t love him. Though the words hurt like hell, he was

in full understanding that if Cole really knew what was going on–he would rush in like a white knight

to rescue his lover.

Gabe clung to that one glimmer of light in a quickly darkening world.

I love you, Cole. I don’t care what any of them do to me, I’ll take it, I won’t give them cause to

hurt you. To hurt any of my family. I’ll die first.

“Kneel.”

Swallowing thickly, Gabe sank to his knees. The man stepped close and reached around him. A

hard black ball nearly the size of a pool ball was suddenly forced into his mouth then strapped in

place by leather bands around his head. His jaw instantly began to ache. His arms were pulled behind

him, his forearms laid along each other then bound together tightly, the wide leather bands squeezing

his muscles and grinding them into his bones.

“Stand up.”

Gabe worked his feet underneath him and pushed up off the floor.

“Now when I tell you,” the man said, “You’re going to turn around and pay close attention to

what I’ve prepared especially for you.”

His heart pounding, head beginning to ache from the pressure of the ball stretching his jaw open,

Gabe waited for the command, fear draining through him. Just think about Cole. About the others.

They’ll be safe as long as you comply.

“Turn around.”

His legs feeling weak, Gabe shifted and twisted around–instant horror permeating his heart and

soul. Tears welled up and he choked on a sob that stuck behind the oral restraint.

Photos were tacked to the wall; each one depicting a face he knew and loved with all his heart.

His entire club family was on that wall.

“One of these,” the man spoke low, even, as he looked at Gabe, “Are about to be…no more.

Compliments of Quinton Sanitini.”

No! Gabe shook his head fiercely, tears streaming. He screamed behind the restraint but it

remained muffled, tumbling back down his throat, choking him. His knees hit the floor as his legs gave

out.

No! You motherfucker!

The man stepped in front of him, his crotch eye level–and bulging against his expensive slacks.

Fingers slid through Gabe’s hair almost affectionately, then his head was jerked back and he was

staring up the guy. Gabe shook his head, his tear filled eyes pleading with the man not hurt anyone as

he gagged on his own sobs.

For the first time, the man smiled, but it was cold, and evil. He held onto Gabe’s hair and with

his free hand unfastened his pants and shoved down the front, releasing his fiercely stiff erection,

already drooling at the tip. He grabbed himself, stroking slowly as he forced Gabe’s face into crotch.

He groaned. “Smell me,” his voice adopted a slight whimper as if the sexual gratification he was

receiving from all this was nearly too much for him to take. “Inhale my scent.”

Gabe’s stomach twisted and turned as the guy shoved Gabe’s face against his ball sack. He

fought with all his might not to vomit, knowing he would choke to death.

“Take comfort,” the man moaned and stroked himself harder as his cock brushed against Gabe’s

temple. The man meant to cum all over his face, of this he had no doubt. “They won’t suffer…much.”

Gabe squeezed his eyes shut, hot tears rushing out.

No…please…God! Don’t fucking let them hurt my family!

Chapter Sixteen

Love’s Abandon

“Who’re you calling?” Carl leaned on the bar and watched Max press a speed dial button on his

cell and press the phone to his ear.

“Abel,” he said, “He talked to Gabe at the hospital, I just want to know if Gabe told him anything

about what was going on between him and Cole. Abel was real close to them, it’s possible Gabe

might have said something.”

Carl nodded and went silent as Abel’s phone rang. But it was Devlin who answered.

“Hey, it’s Max,” he shifted the cell to his other ear. “I was hoping to talk to Abel, is he there?”

“No,” Devlin said, “He ran downtown a little while ago. Obviously forgot his phone.” He

clucked his tongue and chuckled, “That boy can be quite forgetful sometimes.” The man’s love for

Abel was heartwarming.

Max laughed softly “Well, when he gets home, could you have him give me a call?”

“Of course,” Devlin faltered, “Is everything all right?”

Rubbing his mouth slowly, Max murmured, “Gabe and Cole broke up. And I was just wondering

if Gabe had said anything to Abel about it.”

“They what?” Real shock gripped Devlin’s voice. “You’re not serious. Cole and Gabe?”

“Yeah,” Max sighed, “The whole thing makes no sense, and I guess I’m just trying to understand

what the hell happened.”

“Shit,” Devlin whispered, “Those two…they were so perfect together.”

“I agree.”

“I’m sure if Gabe had said anything, Abel would have told me,” Devlin said, “But I’ll have him

call you anyway. This is going to tear him up. He idolizes Cole and Gabe.”

Max smiled, his throat straining, “I kind of think we all do.”

“Yeah,” Devlin admitted, then added, “Abel should be back any time. In fact, I actually expected

him home before now. Probably got stuck in traffic.”

“It happens to the best of us,” Max said. “Yeah, just have him give me a call when he gets there.”

“No problem.”

Max said his goodbyes and ended the call, the phone closing slowly in hands. He stared at the

device with a slight pinch to his brow.

“Is something wrong?” Carl asked. There was a minor hesitation to his question as he, like all of

them lately, seemed to be steeled for trouble at every turn.

“No,” Max murmured then looked at him and sighed, “It’s just that, after this shit with Byrd and

Angel, and then Maddy…” he swallowed thick, “I guess I’m a little hyper vigilant when it comes to

the boys. If they’re not where they should be, right when they should be there…I start to get uneasy.”

“And Abel isn’t where he should be?”

Max exhaled then groaned and smiled, “He’s just a little late. There’s nothing to worry about.

But like I said, with everything that’s come down in the last day or so, I’m on edge.” He shrugged and

grinned, “What can I say, I want all my chicks safely tucked under my wings.”

♦

“Clint.” A nervous twitch caused a glitch in the squirrelly man’s left eye the moment he opened

the door and saw Clint standing on the other side. “Wh-What’re you doin’ here?” His voice had just

enough quiver to it to suggest proper intimidation. That was good. But then, Clint’s reputation

preceded him; no one in his world wanted him knocking on their door.

Clint just stared at the man, allowing his anxiety to mount. Johnny Bale was a tad too weasely for

Clint’s taste. He had a nervousness about him that was both annoying and unsettling. The man was a

coward, and cowards were the most unpredictable of them all. A coward wouldn’t face his foe head

on, but rather sneak up and stab him in the back.

Is that what you did in the joint? Clint remained calm and cool. He wasn’t one to lose control of

his anger. He found he gained more satisfactory results when he took their time and let it out slowly,

methodically.

The erratic flitting of Johnny’s dull brown eyes told Clint all he needed to know. But of course,

he would make the man admit it with his own tongue–before Clint cut it out.

Johnny drove his fingers through his shaggy brown locks, in desperate need of washing, the

muscles in his gaunt face flexing as he repeatedly clenched his jaw–a nervous habit he’d had for as

long as Clint had known him. His dirty t-shirt and worn jeans hung loosely on a rawboned frame that

was too skinny and emaciated from blowing coke. The stale stench of Mary Jane clotted the air sifting

out of his apartment.

Clint had a bunk hand, but he didn’t need to be holding four aces as long as Johnny thought he

was holding the Quattro. “Don’t play with me, Johnny. You know Quint don’t like games.”

“We had a deal,” Johnny’s fingers curled into tight fists then relaxed, then curled up again

continuously. “He…he said if I did the job, he would get me out. I wouldn’t owe him anything.”

The job. Clint drew in a slow, deep breath then released it in a casual sigh with a low tsk.

“Johnny, Johnny, Johnny,” he shook his head. Another tsk. “You should know that Quint never really

releases anyone from a debt.”

Johnny’s head jerked a little to the left in a nervous twitch. “He has another job for me?”

A smile curved Clint’s lips but it clearly offered no comfort to the addict. “No, Johnny. No, not

another job.” He spoke soothingly but the man wasn’t soothed. “You fucked up.”

Johnny’s head snapped up and for the first time he looked Clint straight in the eyes. “What? No…

I-I didn’t. I did what Quint said.”

The pleasure he would receive from dealing with Johnny caused a pleasant tickle in Clint’s naval

that danced on down to his cock. Sex wasn’t always required for “sexual gratification”. For God

knows, he would never stick his cock in a filthy waste of human flesh like Johnny Bale. But what he

did plan to do to him nevertheless inspired a raging hard-on. Perhaps on some level, he was of the

same stock as O’Brian. Only difference being–Clint’s victims were always guilty and deserving of

what they got.

Clint stepped forward and Johnny stepped back, away from the doorway. “How about I come in

and we sit down, have a drink and…chat about how you fucked up this job?” his lips jerked.

Johnny twitched, his skinny arms wrapping around his lanky body as he sidled back, keeping a

measure of floor space between him and Clint as Clint entered the apartment and slowly closed the

door behind him.

The next time Johnny Bale left the apartment, it would be by the order of Frank Holt, county

coroner. The scene left behind by Clint being one more image of horror added to Frank Holt’s

collection, gathered over many years of scraping up bodies off of New York’s landscape.

♦

Cole wasn’t sure what he was doing with Lex. He had solicited him for sex, but the man had

turned the tables on him and revealed a living, breathing human being inside. Had he shown this side

of himself to Angel? Likely he had.

They sat on the huge bed and drank champagne after dinner, and talked. At first, Lex spoke of

impersonal things; business, travel, whatnot. But as Cole grew quieter, less responsive, the man

worked his way back to Cole’s reasoning for breaking club policy and having sex with the customers.

“Tell me about him,” Lex spoke softly.

“Who?” Cole knew exactly who he was talking about, but was merely stalling.

“Your boyfriend.”

“Ex-boyfriend,” Cole murmured. He drew his legs up and rested his elbows on his knees. His

head ducked and he laced his fingers behind his neck “I don’t want to talk about him.” His throat

began to hurt as it knotted and squeezed. God, why couldn’t the guy have just fucked him? What did he

care if Cole had a huge gaping hole in his chest where his heart had once resided?

“Was this out of the blue?” Lex asked gently.

Pushing his forehead against his knees, Cole whispered, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, did you ever expect he would cheat on you? Sometimes even when we love someone,

deep down we’re still not surprised when they’re unfaithful. Was he—”

“No,” Cole said thickly. “It wasn’t like that with Gabe. I would’ve…” his lips tightened, eyes

wetting, “I would’ve bet my life on his faithfulness to me…to us.”

“I’m sorry,” Lex offered sincerely, softly. “It seems ironic that it’s love that hurts the most.”

Cole raised his head and cleared his throat, blinking back the tears. “Yeah, well…” he licked his

lips. “I won’t make that mistake again.”

“What mistake?”

Cole stared blankly at his hands as they hung loosely over his knees. “Loving someone.”

Lex’s eyes were heavy on his face. “You can’t give up on love.”

Running his hand over his mouth, Cole scooted down and laid on the pillows, staring at the high

ceiling of the extravagant penthouse. “Too late.”

Next to him, Lex shifted and set aside his champagne glass then laid down next to him, propped

on one elbow, his head resting in his palm. Cole didn’t look at him, just kept his eyes on the ceiling,

feeling the wetness pooling at the corners, about to drain down over his temples. When Lex touched

his stomach, Cole flinched but didn’t object as he caressed his abdomen through his shirt. “At times

like these,” he said quietly, “It’s logical to never want to put yourself in such a vulnerable situation

again, but…” his hand rubbed soothingly up over Cole’s chest then down again, never venturing

lower than his naval, though Cole was wishing he would go much lower. “It’ll pass. In time, the pain

will ease, you’ll meet someone new, and life will be good again.”

Cole made no reply. The man’s words felt foreign to him at the moment; find someone new?

Someone other than Gabe? He couldn’t foresee himself ever giving his heart to another man. How

could he when it was in a million pieces? And the pain? It would never go away. Maybe it did for

others, but it wouldn’t for him. Gabe had been it. The one. And there could never another “the one”–

that’s why they called it “the one”.

The pooling tears dripped into his ears, his hair. “There won’t ever be anyone else,” he

whispered, throat thick with emotion.

Lex’s lips were on his before he felt the man move. It was a soft kiss, warm, compassionate as

well as passionate. The “familiarity” of such a kiss broke him and he turned into it, kissing him back,

reaching for him, needing for just this moment to feel something other than the hurt that was steadily

reducing his life to ruins.

He refused to let himself imagine where Gabe was tonight, who he was with or what he was

doing. Cole surrendered his mind as well as his body to Lex as the man slowly drew away his clothes

then lavished his warm skin with kisses and caresses until Cole was begging the man to love him. He

didn’t say “fuck me” as he’d meant to, but love me.

And he did.

Lex’s immense size took Cole’s breath away, but that feeling of being possessed so completely

was strangely liberating. It was as if, while Lex was inside him, there was no room for anything

else–not the hurt and pain, or the fear of a future without Gabe, or how he was going to wake up each

morning from now until he died trying make sense of his life. There was just…Lex.

He clung to the man in quiet desperation as their bodies found a rhythm and began to move with

fluid motion. Cole closed his eyes and imagined they were in the center of the ocean, rocking with the

waves of the sea, far away from everything and everyone. And for that moment, it felt good to escape.

He willed their orgasms to remain at bay, he didn’t want to come back to shore but rather stay out on

the open water for as long as he could.

The man had amazing staying power, seeming to understand that Cole needed to prolong this time

with him. He pushed into Cole with gentle thrusts, not too hard or too fast, only grazing his sweet spot

every now and then, providing just enough pleasurable sensations to keep Cole high but not so much

as to push him over the edge. Not just yet.

Lex kissed him with warm passion and held him in a tight embrace, their bodies as one as they

rocked on top of the bed, soft pants and whimpered moans rising all around them. Cole was sure he

had lost all sense of reality and time, for it seemed they had been making love for hours before his

body couldn’t take anymore and his muscles began to strain and tighten, his breath gasping up his

throat, puffing out with added force. Only then did Lex increase the momentum, pushing in deeper,

with more urgency, giving his prostate direct attention.

“Fuck!” Cole gasped sharply and his fingers gouged the man’s back, digging into his slick, hot

muscles as he arched to him, hips pumping in time with Lex’s thrusts. “Oh fuck…yes….God!”

Lex squeezed him in his arms and moved faster against him. “Oh my god,” he panted, voice tight,

face pinched with his impending orgasm. “Ah fuck, Cole! Oh god, I’m there! Shit! Fuck yes! You feel

so good, baby…oh my god!”

The man lost it a little and drove into him harder, desperation in his thrusts. Their wet, hot bodies

mashed Cole’s cock between them, hard stomach muscles flexing and clenching against his fierce

erection, slipping back and forth along his solid, throbbing shaft and firmly massing the sensitive head

into the heated flesh.

“Uuh!” Cole yelled and came with a force that nearly blinded him. His release heightened Lex’s

own needs and the man tightened his embrace and fucked him with reckless abandon until he was

shouting and filling the magnum sized condom sheathing his cock.

“Fuuuck!” Lex drove into him with erratic thrusts then suddenly slowed until he was finally lying

still on top of him, panting hotly against Cole’s wet fevered skin. A hard exhale of breath pushed out

of him as he raised his head, eyes heavy with exhaustion and satisfaction as he gazed at Cole. His

lovely face was shimmery haze before Cole. The man kissed him softly, “Don’t forsake love, Cole.”

Cole’s chin trembled and he pushed his face into his damp shoulder. “I didn’t,” he choked, “It

forsook me.”

Chapter Seventeen

Fear and Torment

Another hour passed and Abel’s call still hadn’t come in. Max did his level best to think

rationally, remind himself that the incidents with Angel and Maddy were isolated to them personally.

There was no cause to think Abel was in harm’s way. But it was late, and getting later. He considered

the possibility that Devlin had forgotten to tell him to call Max back, but that was weak. Devlin

wouldn’t have forgotten.

The club was packed, and loud, the music blaring. Max motioned to Carl from the end of the bar.

“I’m going to try and call Abel again from my office,” he spoke above the din. Anxiety strained his

voice.

Carl nodded. “I’m sure he’s fine, probably just got held up somewhere.”

Clinging to that hope, Max left the bar, weaved his way through the male bodies then slipped into

his office and closed the door, blocking out a good portion of the noise. When he’d designed his

office, he’d done so with the idea of peace and quiet in mind. The room wasn’t entirely sound proof,

but managed to hold back the brunt of the club’s cacophony.

He dug out his cell and called Abel’s phone again. Come on, babe, pick up. Quit making me

worry like neurotic parent.

“Hello?” It was Devlin. A queasiness pinched Max’s gut.

“He still isn’t home?”

“No.” This time, Devlin’s tone harbored its own note of anxiety. “Savannah is starting to get

worried. I assured her he’s fine, but…” He faltered. “Fuck, Max, I’m starting to get worried too. If he

was going to be late, he would’ve found a phone and called me. Where the hell is he? If he don’t

show up in like five seconds, I’m going to look for him.”

“Take is easy,” Max spoke calmly. If he let on just how worried he was as well, it would only

heighten Devlin’s fear which would transmit to Savannah. “Tell me where he was going, and I’ll go

look for him. Just stay there with Savannah and try to keep her mind at ease.”

After Devlin told him Abel’s destination when he’d left earlier, Max again tried to soothe him

then ended the call and left the office.

“Was he home?” Carl asked.

Max sighed and shook his head. “No,” he said. “Devlin told me where he was headed, so I’m

going to go and see if I can find him.”

“You don’t really think he’s in trouble, do you?” Concern squeezed Carl’s eyes.

“God knows I don’t want to think that way,” Max rubbed his eyes. “But I don’t know. Like I said,

after everything that’s happened recently, I’m on edge. I’ll just feel better when he’s safe at home

again.”

Carl leaned on his arms and stretched across the bar, kissing Max on the mouth. “If you find him,

let me know. Or else I’ll be worrying all night too.”

“I will, for sure,” Max licked the kiss from his lips and left the club.

♦

Angel squeezed his eyes tight, his throat working, trying to circulate air as Dane sucked slowly

up and down his stiff member, the man’s strong tongue slipping all around his shaft. “ Mmmm!” Angel

clawed the blankets, hips lifted, begging for more from his lover.

Prickling sensations engulfed him when Dane pushed his hands under his back as Angel arched

his body, his warm palms rubbing up over his damp, hot muscles, fingertips gliding along his spine.

Dane slowly shifted his head back and forth, creating alternating sensations on Angel’s cock.

“Fuck.” Angel whimpered and bit his lip without consideration of the cut. “Oh my god…keeping

doing it just like that…ahh fuck, baby.”

Dane moaned, and the vibration sent a sweet shiver through Angel’s tense body. The man pushed

down on him, taking him deeper, squeezing hard with his mouth, sucking with more force until Angel

writhed beneath his sweet assault, clawing and tugging at the blankets, hips pumping in rhythm with

his strokes. “Uuh! Dane! Fuck! Yes! Oh my god! Oh fuck!” He didn’t worry about Maddy hearing;

when the boy had went to his room, he’d made a note of telling Angel and Dane that he would have

his headphones on, so they should feel free to vocalize. Dane had found that greatly amusing while

Angel had to wonder just when the kid had developed this new found cockiness.

Dragging his hands down Angel’s back, Dane gripped his ass and moved Angel’s hips, working

him in and out of his mouth. Angel’s head went light and began to spin as the orgasm began to coil in

his loins. He squeezed the blankets in his fists, his forearms aching, breath erratic, labored. “Oh

fuck…fuck…baby…I’m gonna-uuhhUUHH!!” It seemed his very body exploded as he burst in

Dane’s mouth, filling his throat with thick, hot love juice. Dane sucked him hungrily, groaning and

growling as he took every drop and went for more.

When he finally backed off, Angel was half delirious, his thoughts fragmented, head still

spinning, body damp with sweat and hot to the touch. Dane was on top then, kissing him as

enthusiastically as he’d sucked him. Angel released the blankets and latched onto his lover, gripping

the back of his head, fisting his hair, kissing him back with as much eagerness. The man’s powerful

erection ground against Angel’s sated but heavy cock. Angel gasped into his mouth, bit at his lips.

“Fuck me, baby,” he pleaded, “Right now. Fuck me, get me hard again, then…”

“Then what?” Dane grinned, eyes heavy with love and lust.

“Then…” Angel gazed at him, feeling bold in his heightened state of sexual want. “Then I want to

fuck you.”

A notable shiver ran through Dane and the corner of his mouth quirked. “Really?”

“Yes,” Angel moaned and kissed his damp throat, nipping the skin. “I want to be inside you so

bad.”

Dane groaned again and shoved his face in the boy’s neck. “Oh god, baby, I want it too.” He

rubbed down across Angel’s hips and shifted his position just a little, coated himself with spit then

slowly pushed into his lover.

“Uuh! Fuck,” Angel gasped and squeezed his legs around Dane’s body. “Yes, baby…oh fuck you

feel amazing.”

Dane smiled and kissed him deep, hard, and bumped against his ass, grabbing more depth with

his cock. Angel whimpered into his mouth. They broke apart and Dane panted, his body straining as

he applied short firm strokes until he was all the way in. He wrapped Angel in his arms and fucked

him with just enough force to surge blood back into Angel’s member. He hardened almost instantly

beneath the man. Feeling his “substance” between them, Dane grinned, breath quick and hot against

Angel’s lips. “You’re really turned on tonight, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Angel moaned loud and smiled. He squeezed Dane’s ass cheeks, fingers digging in,

gripping tight. “Oh god, baby, fuck me harder.”

“Wouldn’t dream of denying you,” Dane growled and kissed him again, increasing his rhythm and

pace.

The mattress groaned, the bed rocking as the two lovers went into overdrive. “Fuck!” Angel’s

head craned back, his body curving and arching. God, Dane’s strong, masculine body felt so damn

good moving on top of him, inside him.

The first knock on the bedroom door was drowned out by their moans and cries. The second,

more insistent, halted their activity in an instant, both men gasping and staring at the closed door.

Dane swallowed hard, took a deep breath, and asked, “What is it?”

“Uh…” Maddy didn’t open the door, and seemed extremely uncomfortable to be interrupting.

There was no doubt he had heard them loud and clear without his headphones on and standing right

outside their door. “Max…is on the phone.”

Dane released a long breath and his head dropped against Angel’s damp chest, groaning, his cock

as hard as steel inside him. The man was nowhere near ready to stop. Dane lifted his head and rubbed

his face, exhaling again. “Is it important?” he asked, “Can I call him back?” Angel shifted beneath him

and Dane narrowed his eyes and groaned, “Stop moving.”

Laughing softly, Angel kissed the swell of his Adam’s apple and rubbed his ass cheeks.

“You’re an evil little imp, Angel Harris.”

Angel grinned.

“He said he needs to talk to you,” Maddy spoke through the door.

Sighing heavily, Dane stared down at Angel. “Okay,” he told Maddy, “I’ll be out in a minute.”

Angel smiled, “I was kind of hoping it would take more than a minute.”

Dane groaned, “Smart ass.” It seemed to take a sheer force of will for the man to vacate the tight

heat of Angel’s body and leave the bed. Rather than dressing fully, he pulled on a robe and cinched

the belt. His arousal was rather evident and Dane shrugged, grinning, “Not much I can do about that at

the moment.”

Propping on his elbows, Angel pressed his lips tight and smiled. “I suppose not.”

“You,” Dane jabbed a finger at him, “Just better be prepared for some high octane fucking when I

get back.”

“Bring it on,” Angel winked, then laughed.

Dane rolled his eyes. “And I thought angels were supposed to be sweet and innocent,” he

grumbled then grinned and left the bedroom.

A short laugh bursting out, Angel dropped down on the bed and stared at the ceiling, his body

still a bundle of tingling sexual tension, aching for his lover’s presence inside him once again.

♦

“Mr. Sanitini told me about your family,” the client stuffed his cock back into his pants, still

leaking droplets of cum. The rest of which oozed down Gabe’s face and dripped off his brow and

chin. Again the urge to vomit was present, and again he fought it. Tears ran down his cheeks, mingling

with the semen and helping to wash it away more quickly.

Quinton had said he would leave Cole’s loved ones alone if he complied and didn’t rebel. But

was he going after them anyway? Why the fuck would he do that?

Don’t you know? The man hates you with a vengeance. Why do you think you’re here? He

wants you tortured and humiliated.

The pressure of the hard ball prying his jaw open, combined with his stress and fear had caused

a migraine to set in. It felt like someone was beating his skull apart with a sledge hammer, and the

pain shot down through his jaw and face.

The man continued to speak. “Would you like to know who he has targeted?”

Gabe’s eyes narrowed, vision blurring.

He walked to the wall, his body blocking Gabe’s view as he plucked a photo loose. When he

turned around, Gabe could see only the back of the photo. “Having kept tabs on you for some time, he

noticed that you had a special affection for this particular young man.”

Gabe couldn’t pull his eyes from the photo, though the face was still hidden and the man still

blocked most of his view of the wall so he couldn’t tell which picture he had taken down. The client

looked at the photo.

“He’s very…pretty,” the man smiled in a way that made Gabe’s blood run cold, his eyes lustful

as he stared at the face. “I’m sure if I was willing to pay, Quinton would give him to me before he

disposed of him.” He raised his eyes and Gabe detected pure evil therein. “What fun I could have.”

He glanced at the photo again as Gabe’s heart pounded. Who the fuck was in the photo? “Do me a

favor,” the man murmured, “And tell me this lovely boy’s name.” He turned the photo around and

Gabe’s heart dislodged.

No! His screams were futile, muffled, and inaudible but he couldn’t stop them. No! Don’t you

dare touch him! You fuckers! Abel’s face blurred and distorted as a rush of hot tears flooded his

eyes.

“He has such beautiful skin,” the man murmured, then looked at Gabe, “Is it as soft as it looks?

How do you think such tender skin will respond to hot needles?” He cocked an eyebrow, “Perhaps

the edge of a scalpel? Bet it would just melt like sweet butter.”

The fucker was insane. Quint hadn’t just sold him to a sexually depraved pervert–he’d dumped

him in the hands of a sexual sadist. One who now had his eye on Abel.

Gabe shook his head and strained against the leather straps binding his arms. He had to get out of

here. If Quint was going after his family anyway, he wasn’t going to fucking stand back and do

nothing. A strangled cry swelled behind the mouth restraint and his brow pinched in rage. He lunged

to his feet and threw himself into the man before the guy could react to Gabe’s sudden boldness. A

stiff grunt exploded form him and he stumbled back, but he was more solid than Gabe had anticipated

and he didn’t go down.

Gabe propelled towards him again–and suddenly found himself on his back, body jerking as

volts of electricity snapped through his body and the client stood over him with a Taser. Lowering to

his heels, he studied Gabe the way one might observe an alien life form. “Quinton warned me that you

might be trouble once you heard about your family.” Out of thin air, it seemed, he produced a syringe

and stabbed it into Gabe’s shoulder, injecting him with God knew what. The room began to spin as

soon as the contents were coursing through him.

“Now it’s time for the fun stuff.” The man’s voice was distorted, fuzzy, his face shifting and

blurring. Gabe was dragged up off the floor and dropped face down on the bed. His body felt like

dead weight and he couldn’t resist or struggle when the man began to caress his skin with the short

metal prongs of the Taser gun. Then his lips were touching his ear as he leaned over him. “Let me

give you a preview of what I’m going to do to your boy.”

His face pressed into the bed, Gabe struggled for breath, his nose clogged by the blankets. His

eyes squeezed shut suddenly when he felt the man’s cock push between his ass cheeks–then shove into

him in one hard thrust. Gabe grunted and tried to gasp, air hissing through his nostrils. The man

continued to drag the Taser all over his skin.

“Did you know,” he spoke low as he ground his cock inside him. “That if you shock someone

while you’re fucking them–the jolts of electricity enhance your own erection? At times even bring a

man to instant orgasm.”

Gabe’s chest hitched and heaved when the man rubbed the prongs of the Taser back and forth

across his left ass cheek. The fucker was insane. The man pushed in harder and began to fuck him

with pounding thrusts. Gabe’s focus wasn’t on the man’s cock, though–but the Taser pressed to his ass

cheek.

As a sudden bolt of electricity shot through him, jerking his body, tearing a cry of sexual agony

from the client–Gabe came to the sudden realization that he might never leave this room alive.

Chapter Eighteen

Night Terrors

“Hey, Max,” Dane spoke into the phone. “What’s up?” His choice of words caused an inaudible

groan to squeeze his throat. He was rather uncomfortable at the moment, his body in such a heightened

state of sexual need.

“Has Abel been by my place tonight, by any chance?”

The anxious note in Max’s voice dropped all thoughts of sex from Dane’s mind. “No. Why?”

“He’s…” Max hesitated then regrouped his words. “He came downtown earlier to grab some

stuff for dinner and rent a couple movies, and he still isn’t home.”

Dane frowned. “How long has he been gone?”

“A couple hours, according to Devlin.”

“I’m assuming you tried to call him?” He felt kind of dumb asking the question–of course they

would have called him.

“He forgot his phone at the house.”

Dane rubbed his brow. “Is Devlin worried about him?”

“Yeah,” Max said, then admitted, “So am I, actually.”

Licking his lips slowly, Dane asked, “Worried in what way? Like maybe he was in an accident?”

“I don’t know,” Max told him, “After what happened to Angel and Maddy, I think all of our

minds are pretty adept at coming up with some ugly scenarios.”

“Are you at the club?” He didn’t hear the usual club noise in the background, but if he was in his

office, it would be fairly quiet.

“No. I came downtown looking for him but so far, there’s no sign.”

Surely it was irrational to think there was any kind of foul play involved. What had happened

with Byrd had nothing to do with Abel or anyone else. There was no one with a vendetta against Abel

or Devlin, or any of them for that matter. No cause for anyone to want to hurt Abel. Unfortunately not

all violent acts were premeditated or had a personal cause attached to them. People were mugged or

robbed and killed every day in the city-

What the hell are you thinking, for fuck’s sake? Abel is fine. Don’t go off the deep end.

“Where are you now?” Dane asked, swallowing thickly, resisting any and all thoughts that Abel

could be a victim of any type.

“Devlin said Abel takes a specific route home from the downtown area, so I’m following it.

Maybe he broke down and can’t get to phone—”

Max went silent abruptly, but the line was still open, so the signal hadn’t been lost.

“What?” Dane asked anxiously. “What is it?”

“All the traffic is stopped,” Max murmured, “I think there might be an accident up ahead. Some

people are out of their cars, I’ll see if I can find out what’s going on then call you back.”

“Okay,” Dane’s gut twisted. “Abel is probably just caught in the backed up traffic.”

“Yeah,” Max reached for optimism, but fell short. “I’ll talk to you in a few minutes.”

The phone went dead and Dane stared at it, brow pinched hard, squeezing the skin between his

eyes. Please, God, we don’t need any more shit in our lives. Just let him be okay.

Angel wandered out of the bedroom when Dane didn’t return right away. He was wearing a pair

of loose, navy blue pajama pants and no shirt. “Is everything okay?” he asked, “I was kind of

expecting you to come back.” He started to smile then faltered when he noticed the troubled look on

Dane’s face. “What is it?”

Dane looked at him then drew him into his arms, needing the closeness and comfort. “I’m not

sure,” he murmured, “Maybe nothing, but…” he released a slow breath. “Devlin and Max are having

a hard time locating Abel.”

“What do you mean?” Angel drew back. “Are you saying…he’s missing?”

“I don’t know,” Dane whispered and began to feel sick to his stomach.

♦

Accumulated foamy saliva trickled out of Gabe’s mouth when the strap around his head was

suddenly loosened and the mouth restraint removed. His cheek pressed into the blanket and he stared

blankly at the wall, tears seeping out. The wall was bare but for a few strategically placed metal

rings bolted in place, at different levels. His mind couldn’t comprehend what they were for, though it

felt like he should know. The repeated shock of the Taser hadn’t only fucked up his brain function but

had left his heart with an odd, erratic beat and his body weakened. Would the man continue to blast

him with volts of electricity until his heart just quit?

The leather straps binding his arms were unfastened as well and his arms dropped loosely to the

bed, no strength in them to move. No way to overpower the man and get out of here, save Abel. He

closed his eyes as images of the boy floated through his head. He loved Abel, and on some level was

even in love with him. He and Cole both were. They had fallen in love with him that night at Abel’s

apartment when they’d made love to him together, letting him experience real love for the first time in

his life. The same night he and Cole had begun to realize they were in love with each other as well.

Gabe had already lost Cole in so many ways–he couldn’t lose Abel too. Not like this.

But he was helpless. How many times had they swore to protect each other? But when it came

right down to it–such promises were empty ones. Evil could find a person, whenever, wherever, and

do as it pleased and no one could stop it. All the love in the world couldn’t prevent evil from taking

away a loved one. And when it caught a person…that person was alone, with no one there fight for

them. And the evil that had taken Gabe and isolated him from all who had cared for him–would take

Abel as well. And no one had the power to stop it.

Hands gripped Gabe’s arms and rolled him onto his back. He stared up at the sick man who

might well be his executioner. The client avoided his stare as he’d done in the limo, and went about

securing straps to Gabe’s wrists. As he leaned over the top of him, his cock head grazed Gabe’s

stomach–and the fucker was still solid as a rock, even after coming twice in his ass, with the “aid” of

the Taser gun. If he’d had even an ounce of strength in him, he would’ve bitten the man’s throat,

punctured his jugular, anything to bring him down. But he couldn’t even do that. His head felt loaded

with concrete and impossible to lift off the bed.

The equilibrium of the room went haywire as he was hauled up off the bed and onto his feet. His

legs were like hot rubber, knees buckling. But the man caught him and held him up. The motherfucker

had strength to him, a lot more than one could tell by looking at him. He half carried, half walked

Gabe over to the wall and fastened the wrist straps to the highest placed rings. It occurred to Gabe

then that he had the rings at different levels because the people he brought here were of various

heights. The next set down from Gabe’s…would those be the ones he strapped Abel to?

A sob caught in his chest and his body sagged against the restraints when the man stepped back.

Was this how Christ had felt–nailed to the cross? Had he regretted his decision to die for such an

ungrateful, cruel species? At least the ones Gabe was suffering for loved him–whereas Christ was

treated like shit by those who were supposed to be the most devoted to him, sent off to die with the

scum of the earth. Gabe was in a world of hurt, but it wasn’t those he loved with all his heart that had

put him there.

“Tell me his name,” the man asked again. He stood before Gabe, gazing at him with that

“wondrous” look. It was fucking creepy. “I want to know what to call him when I ask him if it hurts.”

Gabe forced his head up and dropped it back against the wall, eyes glaring at his tormentor, tears

streaking his flushed cheeks. “Fuck…you.” He rasped. Then a smile twitched his lips and he thought

he might be losing his mind. “You’re gonna…die…motherfucker…when they catch you…there will

be…nothing left when they’re done.”

He wasn’t bluffing, or trying to “scare” the guy; he was speaking true. When his family found out

what this fucker had done to him, and if he got a hold of Abel as well–they would annihilate him. No

one would ever find any trace of him.

The man remained undaunted; but then, he was a fucking psychopath, so that was to be expected.

When Gabe had first seen him in the circle, he had thought he might be someone in a position of

power, politically. And maybe he was. Did the man moonlight as a weekend sexual sadist? Would it

be bad for his image if he actually took Gabe’s life? Or did he even get a charge from that–or just the

pain he caused? The man’s initial impression of being some form of Dom had dropped altogether it

seemed. Had it just been a façade, to trick Gabe into thinking he was just going to be a part of some

perverted BDSM scene–but keep him unaware of just how dangerous his situation truly was? Because

now, the man wasn’t playing his ‘don’t speak until you’re spoken to’ bit. In fact, he didn’t seem to

care that Gabe was cursing him and telling him he was going to pay for this. The look on the man’s

face implied he was actually getting off on it.

He made no reply to Gabe’s warning and went to polished short counter along the wall beneath

the photos. What looked like a large jewelry box sat against the wall. He took it and opened it, but

what he withdrew was no pearl necklaces or diamond rings.

Gabe’s vision was hazy and distorted, but he could still make out the long needles that had been

retrieved from the box. They resembled acupuncture needles but somehow Gabe didn’t think the man

was going to use them to “heal” him in any way.

He tried to shove up on his feet when the man approached him with the needles and an expensive

gold lighter. One hard kick to the fucker’s nuts should drop him, no matter how “strong” he was. But

Gabe’s joints felt liquefied. He stared at the lighter as the guy began to flip it open, light it, then snap

the lid closed–over and over.

“How do you think your pretty boy is going to take to this?” he flicked open the lighter and heated

the end of one needle to red hot then closed the lighter and moved closer to Gabe.

Gabe pressed back against the wall as best he could, eyes on the needle. “You fuck…” he choked

then clenched his jaw to suppress a cry when the needle touched the center of his stomach, in the

groove between his ab muscles, then dragged slowly downward, pausing just before touching his

cock. He gasped, his skin burning. “Motherfucker…”

The client looked at him in that creepy way again and re-heat the needle. But this time he touched

it to his own cock, dragging it along his shaft. The man shuddered and jerked, sucking in a shaky,

uneven breath–and produced a raging erection. He groaned when he lifted the needle away and

looked at Gabe. The man’s eyes were watery but satisfaction resonated forth.

“You sick fuck.” Gabe whispered.

A new needle was heated in the flame of the lighter. He closed the lid and let the lighter and

remaining needles drop to the floor as he took hold of Gabe’s cock in his free hand, stroking him

smoothly. “I got all kinds of toys in my toy chest,” he murmured and scraped the tip of the hot needle

against the sensitive skin of Gabe’s shaft. His body jerked and he smacked back against the wall, a

strangled cry tearing out of him, fresh tears instantly filling his eyes. “We can play all night long.” He

touched him with the needle, near the crown and Gabe choked on another cry. “And when I get tired

of playing with you…I’ll play with the pretty little boy whom I will have to name myself, since you

refuse to tell me.”

Panting hard, Gabe stared at him, wide-eyed, sobs grinding in his throat; not Abel…not his

perfect Abel…he couldn’t do these things to him…he couldn’t…Fuck!

Chapter Nineteen

Baby, Come Home

Max approached the closest motorist–a tall young man who looked like a frat boy, perched on the

hood of his sports car, craning his neck to see the activity which was far too far away to get a good

look at.

“Hey,” Max stopped a few feet away. The guy glanced at him then nodded. “Do you know what’s

going on?”

“Keep getting different stories,” he said. “But the one passed around the most is that it was a

highway shooting. Road rage or some shit. A real fucked up mess up there.”

Max fought the shakes trying to take over. “There were…fatalities?”

“As I hear it,” the guy said. He shook his head. “The word is, the guy took it in the side of the

head. Probably didn’t even see it coming. People shouldn’t get in a fucking car if they can’t handle the

stress of traffic.”

“Indeed,” Max murmured and wanted to puke. Don’t jump to conclusions. There’s a score of

scars backed up, any one of them could be Abel’s . But his stomach continued to hurt and pinch with

nausea. “Does anyone know the identity of the driver who was…” His throat clogged and he

swallowed hard. “His age range…anything?”

The young man glanced at him. “One woman said she thought it was a young guy, early twenties

maybe.” He shrugged, “But she didn’t know for sure. The info is passing through too many people.

Probably getting all twisted and fucked up by the time it gets back here.”

I hope so, Max thought sickly. What the fuck was he supposed to tell Dane? Or Devlin? He

couldn’t just sit here, though. And he couldn’t get closer to the accident to see for himself what was

really going on. “Well, thanks,” Max said and backed away. “Let’s hope they’re all wrong and no one

was hurt.”

“Yeah,” the guy chuffed and continued to crane his neck to see what was out of view shot.

Max returned to his car and backed around before he got boxed in, and headed back the way he’d

come. It isn’t Abel. You’re overreacting. He’s fine. He’ll be home any minute now, perfectly

healthy with that beautiful smile of his on that lovely face. No one is losing anyone tonight.

His insistent thoughts did nothing to stop the tears from creeping out and sneaking down Max’s

face, or calm the pounding of his frightened heart.

♦

“You can stay if you want,” Lex said as Cole began to dress. “Just because we… did our thing…

doesn’t mean I expect you to leave.”

Cole cast him a fleeting look and buttoned his shirt. “Thanks,” he murmured, “But I should get

back to the club.” He didn’t really want to go back there, or home–especially not home–and in fact

did want to stay here. There was something very soothing and comforting in Lex’s touch, his words.

But it was a false comfort. Lex was a nice guy, but he and Cole were still just random fucks to one

another. And nor did Cole like how at ease he felt with the man. For crying out loud, Gabe had just

ripped out his heart–was he really going to be so quick to trust the sincerity of another man? And one

he just met, at that?

You are truly a fucking fool. A little sweet talk, a tender touch, and a good satisfying fuck and

you fall for it? Get a grip, man. You’re fucking losing it.

“All right, if you insist,” Lex smiled, but Cole could see that the man was hoping he would stay.

“I’ll have my driver take you back.”

Cole shrugged and avoided his gaze. “I can call a cab,” he mumbled.

“Hey,” Lex spoke soft, low. He left the bed and pulled on a silk robe, approaching Cole. “You

just gave me one of the best nights of my life,” he touched Cole’s face, stroked his thumb over his

lips. “The least I can do is provide a ride back to the club.” He smiled, “Well that, and this.” He

opened a small concealed safe and took out a wad of crisp bills.

Cole stared at him. The whole experience with the man felt cheapened by the sight of the money.

But of course the man would think he was expected to pay. Even so, a heaviness settled in Cole’s

chest and he shook his head. “I’m not a hooker,” he said low, stiff. “I didn’t fuck you for the money.”

Why was he feeling jilted? Lex had done nothing wrong. Yet in some small way, he felt used by the

man. He knew this really had nothing to do with Lex, but rather the whole incident with Gabe. His

heart was exposed and vulnerable, and any little thing seemed capable of wounding it at this point.

Replacing the money in the safe, Lex faced him slowly. “I’m sorry, Cole. I didn’t mean to

imply…” Real compassion filled his eyes. “I guess I’m just used to…” He shook his head as if his

words weren’t coming out right.

“No, it’s…” Cole swallowed thickly. “It’s all right. I have no cause to be offended. I approached

you like a hooker, what else were you supposed to think? I just…” He closed his eyes as they began

to burn. His lips tightened. “I’m just really fucked up right now.” He opened his eyes again and tears

inhibited his vision. “I’m sorry for taking offense.”

Lex stepped up close then wrapped his arms around him, holding him secure against his body.

Cole’s arms went around the man before he consider what he was doing. He didn’t even know this

guy, so why did he find such comfort in his arms? Cole pressed his face to Lex’s shoulder, tears

slipping out one by one and seeping into the silk fabric.

“You’re going to be okay, Cole,” Lex said softly, “I’ve met a lot of men. Some strong, some

weak. The moment I laid eyes on you, I knew you were a man of strength. You’ll get through this.”

Cole tightened his arms and trembled in the man’s embrace. “I don’t want to get through it,” he

cried quietly, “I don’t even want to be. I just want to…disappear.”

Lex kissed his neck. “Well , we can’t have that, babe,” he whispered, “This world needs all the

strong men it can get.”

I don’t feel strong . In truth, Cole had never felt weaker in his life. Gabe had been his strength,

and now that strength was gone, for good.

When he crawled into the limo ten minutes later, rather than returning to the club, he gave the

driver his address and asked him to take him home. The club had too many men looking to be

entertained, and Cole wasn’t in the mood to please.

♦

Dane got the call from Max first, letting him know the situation on the highway. Grabbing Angel

and Maddy, he drove to Devlin’s place, where Max said he was headed. They arrived before Max,

but the man had already talked to Devlin on the phone as well. The doctor was doing his level best to

hold it together for Savannah’s sake who was in tears with worry. The information hadn’t been

passed onto her, but when the news story came on, there was no hiding it. The reporter wasn’t up

close to accident, so they couldn’t see the victim’s car. It was indeed a highway shooting. The victim

a young man whom the police had found dead on arrival.

“Maddy,” Dane’s throat clenched, choking his words as he took the boy aside and spoke low,

“Do you think you can try to distract Savannah? Maybe ask her if she wants to go listen to music or

something, play a video game, anything. She don’t need to be sitting here watching this.”

Tears glazed Maddy’s eyes but he nodded and did as Dane asked, finally coaxing Savannah into

the den. Devlin looked at Dane, tears thick, “Thank you,” he trembled, and his careful control over the

tears broke and they spilled down his face. Dane grabbed him and hugged him as the man clung to

him, shaking.

“Hey,” Dane whispered, struggling not to break down right along with him. “We don’t really

know anything. Abel wasn’t the only young man on that highway. Come on now, doc. We gotta keep

the faith. Ain’t no way in hell your boy is gonna leave you.” He hugged him tighter and met Angel’s

gaze. The young man seemed stunned with fear. “Everything is going be fine,” Dane murmured, to

both Devlin and Angel, and to himself. “Just fine.”

When Max suddenly walked in on them, instant anxiety filled his eyes. “What’s going on?”

Angel turned towards him. “There’s a news story, about the accident.”

Deeper fear resonated out of the older man. “Did they say what…?” He couldn’t go on and just

stopped there.

Devlin backed out of Dane’s arms and wiped his face, clearing his throat. “They said it was

highway shooting,” he rasped, “And that…” his throat worked as more tears found their way to his

eyes. “And that it was a young man. But that’s all. They won’t release his name yet.”

Max’s face crumpled then he quickly fought for control. The man was a true “father”, resonating

strength and hope for the rest of the family. “Well until they do,” he said thickly, “We’re not going to

make assumptions. There’s a multitude of reasons Abel could have gotten held up. He could very

well be caught in the traffic down there. Which is very likely the case. So come on, no giving up on

our boy. Got it?”

Nodding, Devlin hugged himself. Max walked over and turned off the television. “That’s enough

of that. It’s just going to keep everyone stressed out and they’re not going to give out much information

over the TV anyway.” He gripped Devlin’s shoulder. “How about we go make some tea to soothe our

nerves?”

Devlin nodded again but still looked like he was on the bare edge of breaking down again. Max

walked him into the kitchen. Angel stood motionless, eyes shimmering, frightened.

“Come here, baby,” Dane held out his hand and Angel went to him quick, nearly diving into his

embrace.

“Do you think he’s okay?” Angel hugged him hard, trembling.

“I have to believe that,” Dane whispered, “If I start to think we’ve lost him, or even that he’s

hurt…I’ll lose it.”

Angel squeezed his arms tighter and pressed his face against his neck. “Did anyone call Cole? Or

try to get a hold of Gabe?”

“Not yet,” Dane murmured. “They’re going through so much right now, and I didn’t want to alarm

them unnecessarily. There’s nothing anyone can do right now anyway.”

A car rolled down the street and both Dane and Angel tensed, waiting to see if it would stop.

When it went on past, they held each other tighter. Dane bite his lips together, throat hurting as he

fought to hold down the sobs trying to get out.

Another car. This one slowed and they tensed again. The car came to a full stop, then the engine

shut off. Dane and Angel stood frozen. Max and Devlin came out of the kitchen, anxiety pinching their

faces.

“Did someone stop?” Savannah and Maddy emerged from the den. No one said anything as they

heard a car door close. “Why aren’t you seeing who it is?” Savannah was in tears.

Why weren’t they? But Dane knew; what if it were the police, come to give them bad news? No

one wanted to look out and see a squad sitting in front of the house, or meet the officers at the door

and listen as they ripped the bottom out of their world.

The doorbell rang. Just once. Echoing through the house like a death toll. If it was Abel, he would

just come in. None of them looked at each other. Finally, Max took a step forward when the door

opened on its own–and Caleb stepped. Shock spread across all their faces, as he was the last person

they expected to see. He stopped short, then smiled uncertainly, “What the hell, don’t you answer the

door anymore?”

Not a one of them responded.

“Okay,” Caleb frowned, eyebrow cocked. “Is…everything okay?”

“Caleb?” Max whispered, confused. “What’re you…” He broke off suddenly when Samuel

stepped up behind the young man and glanced at them all with the same look at Caleb.

“So…what’s going on?”

“What’re you guys doing here?” Max finished, voice thick.

Taking in their distraught, tear stained faces, Caleb murmured, “What’s wrong?”

“Hey, thanks for the help, guys.”

The sarcastic remark pushing in past Caleb and Samuel was the sweetest sound Dane had ever

heard in his life as he stared in shock as the two guys stepped inside and Abel appeared in the

doorway, arms loaded with grocery bags.

“We thought you might be missing something,” Caleb told them, indicating Abel.

“Abel?” Devlin stared at him as if he were a ghost, come back to haunt him and torment him.

Abel stepped past the other two men. “I’m really sorry, Dev. I swear to God I would’ve called

you if I could have, don’t be mad. I—” He grunted when Devlin rushed forward and grabbed him,

knocking the bags from his arms. Something in a glass bottle busted Abel groaned then gasped for air.

“What…”

“Don’t you ever fucking scare me like that again!” Devlin cried into his hair, squeezing him

tighter. “Not ever.”

Abel hugged him back, confused. He looked at the others. “What’s going on?”

“God damn you, you little shit,” Max choked and came forward, wrapping his arms around both

Abel and Devlin, kissing his head hard. “I swear to god, every one of us should spank your ass good

for this.”

Abel frowned, grunting harder as Max joined Devlin in squeezing the air from his body. “Sounds

kind of kinky…but fun,” he laughed uncertainly.

“Fuck,” Dane laughed, swallowing a sob, and in moments, Abel was crushed in horde of bodies

and clinging arms and threats that if he ever scared them again he would be in such deep, deep shit.

Caleb looked at Samuel and shrugged. “I’m lost.” Samuel chuckled and nodded.

Dane groaned and stepped over, grabbing Caleb, and then Samuel, crushing them in a bear hug.

“Same goes for you two–if you ever pull a stunt like this and scare the fuck out of us…” He drew

back and kissed them both on the cheek then gave them a stern look. “Ass whuppin’s for you too.”

“Hmm,” Caleb wiggled his eyebrows and Samuel laughed.

Shaking his head, Dane chuckled then hugged the confused young men again.

Thank you for this one, God. Thank you…thank you…

♦

After getting off the phone with Carl, Max snapped the cell closed and looked at Abel. “Explain

yourself, young man. Where the hell were you?”

Abel’s back was pressed against Devlin’s chest as they leaned against the counter, Devlin’s arms

still holding the boy tight and unyielding. His face remained buried in Abel’s hair, eyes closed and

still wet with tears. This brief but terrifying incident had shaken the man down to his foundations.

Abel rubbed his hands slowly back and forth along Devlin’s forearms, not trying to get loose of his

embrace. He obviously didn’t understand just yet why everyone was so scared, but he knew their fear

was real and that Devlin needed to be holding him right now, needed to feel him close, and safe.

Caleb and Samuel had stayed, and Max was glad they were here, tonight of all nights. He needed

to have all his boys together in one place, and see for himself they were safe and sound. But this isn’t

“all” your boys. Two are missing . His heart for Cole and Gabe, but he couldn’t think about that right

now, his heart was still reeling from the scare Abel had given them.

“I, uh…” Abel glanced from one to the other. “I went to the store to pick up stuff for dinner. Then

had to go to another store, because that one didn’t have everything I needed. I picked up a couple

movies and then headed home,” he looked at all of them warily as they stared at him, waiting to hear

why he had taken so long to get home and why he was with Caleb and Samuel. “When I saw there

was an accident on the highway, and the traffic was backing up, I figured I would be stuck there most

of the night and took another route.

"But,” he smiled and shrugged, “I wasn’t as familiar with it and kind of got on the wrong street,

then ran over some broken glass and had two flat tires. Only had one spare with me,” he sighed and

leaned deeper into Devlin’s arms as the man tightened his hold on him. “When I figured out where I

was, I realized I wasn’t far from Caleb and Samuel’s place, so I started walking.”

“You were walking the streets of New York at night?” Dane stared at him.

Abel shrugged again. “Didn’t have much choice,” he said. “Anyway, Caleb and Samuel found me

before I made it to their place, and they took me back to the car to get the groceries, then brought me

home. And…here I am.”

Shaking his head, Max swallowed tightly, his emotions still heightened. “Here you are,” he

murmured, then smiled, “Yes, and thank God you are.”

Savannah lingered close to her brother, leaning against his side. She smacked his arm, “Why

didn’t you use one of their cell phones to call us?”

Max and Dane exchanged a glance. “That’s a good point,” Dane said, “Why didn’t you?”

“I…” Abel shrugged, “I don’t know. We were coming straight here anyway.” When Savannah

smacked him again, he laughed, “I’m sorry, I didn’t think about it.”

“Didn’t think about it,” Devlin murmured, heavy emotion in his voice, “Boy, you’re grounded.

You are not leaving this house again without an escort from now until…you’re ninety.”

Nodding slowly, Abel said, “When I’m ninety, I’ll still need an escort because someone will

have to push my wheelchair.”

“Smart ass,” Devlin mumbled and hugged him hard, planting a kiss on his head.

“What did you think happened to me?” Abel wondered.

Max sighed and slid the tip of tongue across his lower lip. “We heard about the accident…some

of the details, and…”

Glancing between them, Abel’s face fell a little. “Oh fuck. You thought…” The reality of their

fear seemed to hit him all at once. “Oh my god. I’m sorry,” tears shimmered and he turned around,

hugging Devlin’s neck, “I had no idea you would think…” He kissed the man and cupped the back of

his head. “I’m sorry, I swear I’ll never forget my phone again.”

Devlin cleared his throat, eyes wet. “Don’t matter, because you’re grounded and you’re not going

anywhere without me anyway.”

“Okay,” Abel touched his head to Devlin’s brow and closed his eyes, tears seeping out. “I love

you, baby,” he whispered, “Don’t think you’re getting rid of me that easily.”

Max watched them, his heart swelling with relief that Abel safe at home. His heart went out to

the family of the other young man who died tonight, but selfish or not–he thanked God it wasn’t his

boy who was taken from this life out there on that dark highway.

Chapter Twenty

Attentive Hearts

The Heartbreak Hotel. If only the King knew the kind of establishment that had taken on the

name of his hit song–the man would roll over in his grave. Although Clint found it rather fitting, all

things considered. He was sick to fuck of being Quinton’s pick up man, driving down to the south side

of Brooklyn at the allotted times to collect the “remains” that Quinton’s clients left behind, dumped

off in this shitty hotel in the same room every time, and the strung out supplied with his drug of choice

to look the other way.

He dreaded this pick up worst of all.

His Egyptian passenger sat silent in the passenger seat as they pulled into the last space at the far

end of the hotel parking lot, in front of the designated dump room. The man rarely spoke unless he

was dealing with someone. Then he talked plenty, telling the mark just what he had to look forward

to. But though he hadn’t voiced it aloud, he didn’t enjoy this pick up job any more than Clint.

Clint shut off the car and stared at the door to the hotel room; the paint was chipped, and dirty.

The windows hazy with grime, heavy drapes blocking view of the contents inside. He looked at the

other man. “Ready to do this?”

The Egyptian grunted and opened his door, but his face was strained, tense as he climbed out.

Not eager to go through that door, Clint waited a moment before finally exiting the car as well.

They approached the door together and Clint produced a key and unlocked it. He exhaled hard

and motioned to his partner to enter. The man opened the door and walked through. Despite the early

afternoon sun, the room was cold and chilled Clint’s skin. But he barely noticed at he stared at the

form on the bed, a thin blanket thrown over him, concealing him from head to foot.

Two days with the sadistic motherfucker…what did he do to you?

Clint stood just inside the door, sick in his gut to look under that blanket. There was slight

movement of the man’s chest, indicating he was still breathing at least. But how many times over the

past couple days had he prayed for death?

Walking to the bed, Cochise peeled back the blanket to reveal the nearly naked man lying face

down on the mattress, and the sickness in Clint’s gut twisted his intestines. You motherfucker.

Gabriel was a mess. There didn’t seem to be an inch of skin that hadn’t been abused in some

way. Clint rubbed his mouth then approached the bed. “Help me wrap him up in the blanket,” he said

quietly, stiffly. Where he was usually so good at controlling his anger, he suspected that if O’Brian

were standing in front of him now–he would lose that control.

Slipping in and out of consciousness, Gabriel didn’t resist as they covered him. Only one word

fell from his lips, over and over. A name; Abel.

“Easy now,” Clint murmured as Cochise aided him in lifting Gabriel off the bed. “We got you.”

They laid him on the backseat then left the hotel. Typically they would take the cargo to their

own home, but Quinton had instructed them to bring Gabriel back to the Clubhouse. He wouldn’t take

any chances that Gabriel might escape his clutches. He’d been waiting too long to destroy the man,

and he planned to take his time. He would allow Gabriel to heal for the most part–then put him back

in the Circle.

Clint glanced in the back seat at the man he had loved like a little brother since the day they had

met, then turned his eyes back to the street ahead.

“One day,” he murmured, “Karma will find Quinton. And when that bitch tears into him...I’m

gonna be there–lending a hand.”

The Egyptian grunted and gave the slightest nod only a trained eye could detect.

♦

Angel remained on edge about leaving Maddy alone. The incident with Byrd was still too fresh

and the scare with Abel the other night only heightening his anxiety. When Angel was ready to go

back to work at the club to continue his training behind the bar, Dane agreed to stay with Maddy.

Dane had yet to talk of dancing again, though Angel sensed that he missed it; not because of the men,

but because it had been his passion from when he was young. At this point in time, though, the man

was more concerned with looking after Maddy, and even Angel, for that matter.

Angel was quickly learning that Dane was very protective of those he loved. Thus the issue with

Gabe and Cole was troubling him deeply. And the fact that no one had heard from Gabe in nearly

three days now had given them all cause for alarm. Well, everyone excluding Cole. Angel wasn’t

certain the man even knew Gabe hadn’t been in contact with anyone. He refused to talk about Gabe or

listen to anything concerning him. Dane had tried to call Gabe multiple times, and had checked his

apartment repeatedly, but there was no sign of him. Angel was growing sick with worry, and he could

see in Dane and Max as well; it was as if Gabe had vanished into thin air.

“What happened to you?”

The masculine voice pulled Angel out of his thoughts and he stared across the bar at Lex.

Concern pinched his brow as he studied Angel’s face, which still bore evidence of his encounter with

Byrd. “It’s a long story,” he mumbled.

“Well I hope the other guy got it worse.”

Angel considered Byrd’s ultimate end taking place in Max’s kitchen, and pressed his lips tight,

smiling, “He did.”

“There you go,” Lex smiled and gazed at him with affection.

Fidgeting anxiously, Angel asked quietly, “You’re not still soliciting the dancers…are you?”

Lex leaned on his elbows and eyes Angel with a wry smile. “As I recall,” he murmured, “You

were the one who solicited my services that first time. And the second time, as a matter of fact.”

Angel recalled the first time he’d met the man, and the pain of that night. Having just lost Dane,

his whole world had been crashing down around him. He’d latched onto him because he had that ‘I

want to fuck you’ look in his eyes and could obviously pay out what Wade was expecting to receive–

though he had ended up paying more than Angel had asked for.

“I’m sorry,” Angel ducked his head, “You’re right. I was the one who initiated.”

“I realize I didn’t have to accept,” Lex smiled, “But then again, how could I resist? A beautiful,

sexy boy offers me a trip to heaven? What else was a man like me to do?”

Nodding slowly, eyes down, Angel didn’t reply.

“But to answer your original question,” Lex said, “No, I’m not soliciting dancers for sex. In

fact,” he glanced around the club, “Tonight I just came in hoping to see Cole,” he turned his eyes back

on Angel, “Is he here?”

“Cole?” Angel met his stare and frowned. “You know Cole?”

“We met the other night,” Lex spoke low, and with a tone that alerted Angel to just what their

“meeting” had consisted of. When Angel just looked at him, his face tight, Lex raised his hands. “I

didn’t approach him. He came to me.”

Swallowing thickly, Angel’s lips tightened. “Cole is going through a real tough time right now,”

he murmured, a sudden defensiveness rising. “Please don’t…take advantage of him.”

Lex smiled, warm and affectionate. “I know he’s got it rough right now,” he said, “And I would

never take advantage of a man in pain.”

“He told you…”

Lex sighed, “He mentioned breaking up with his boyfriend because the man was cheating on him.

It really tore him up to talk about it, and he didn’t say a whole lot more than that.”

“I don’t know what happened between them,” Angel’s throat knotted, “But Gabe’s a good guy,

and he loves Cole. And Cole don’t need…” His words fell away as he averted his gaze, eyes filling.

“I think I am exactly what he needs,” Lex murmured, “The man is freefalling and he needs an

anchor. And the other night, I provided that for him.”

Angel knew the man was right. Cole was spiraling down, and fast. If he didn’t grab a hold of

something, or someone–he would crash and burn.

♦

Cole was caught in the dream that he knew was a dream. The pain from the real world stayed

with him. Gabe was kneeling on his bed, tears rising, telling Cole he loved him. The man was nude

and the most beautiful sight for Cole’s sore eyes. He beckoned to Cole to come to him, and make love

to him. To feel how much he still loved him. But Cole couldn’t move, couldn’t take that step. In the

blink of an eye, the scene changed, and Gabe was with the customer–Quint–fucking the man wildly,

screaming out his sexual ecstasy, demanding that the guy fuck him harder.

“Uh!” Cole came awake with a hard jolt, bolting upright on the sofa, sweat beading his skin. The

images from the dream clashed with one another, polar opposites. He wanted to believe the first

scene, but the second wasn’t just a concoction of the dream–but a real memory.

Rolling onto his stomach, Cole buried his face in the cushion, sobs shaking him. It was never

going to stop. This pain would kill him. He would never get the image of Gabe and Quinton out of his

head. It would haunt and torment him till the day he died.

“Fuck,” he choked, his body hitching. He longed to be back in Lex’s bed, have the man filling

him up so completely and pushing out all thoughts of Gabe, forcing back the pain in his heart. He had

the man’s number…

Cole pushed up off the cushion and leaned on his knees, choking on a sob. He wiped his face then

cleared his throat and stood up. He didn’t have much use for his phone anymore and wasn’t as

meticulous about carrying it with him at all times. At the moment, it was sitting on the night stand in

the bedroom, turned off. And no doubt collecting missed calls and voice mails from Dane and Max.

Exhaling hard, Cole walked to the hall then paused when a sudden, firm rap of knuckles smacked

his door. Go away, Dane. I don’t want to fucking talk . The man was relentless. He wouldn’t leave

Cole alone.

Another rap on the door.

“Go away,” he hollered, “I’m not home.”

A brief silence, and Cole felt hopeful. But then another knock.

“Fuck,” he groaned and turned around, walking to the door. He jerked it open. “Look, man, I told

you before I don’t—” His words cut off as if a vice had closed around his throat–and that’s what it

felt like as he stared at the cowboy. Gabe had called him Clint. Cole’s guts churned. The man made

him very nervous. He and his “Indian” partner had made a mess of Brock Coulson; Cole was fully

aware of what this made was capable of.

A tremor ran through Cole and he struggled to keep his voice even as he told him, “If you’re

looking for Gabe, he isn’t here. We’re not…” Even now, in the face of this dangerous man, it hurt like

hell to say the words. “We’re not together anymore.”

“I’m not looking for Gabe,” the man’s southern drawl felt misplaced resonating out of a New

York City thug. “I’m looking for you.”

Cole swallowed hard, his throat working. Cold fear seeped into his bones, though he didn’t know

why. He had no beef with this guy. In fact, the man had helped them deal with Coulson. But just

knowing how little reservation the guy had in torturing and mutilating another human being had Cole

on bare edge of shitting his shorts. “Why me?” he croaked.

“We need to speak about Gabe.”

Was that where Gabe was? Staying with this man? Was he done screwing around and had sent

the cowboy to convince Cole to listen to some bullshit story about how sorry he was, and then take

him back?

Despite the unlikeliness of such a scenario, hurt and anger surged through Cole nonetheless–even

overriding his fear of the cowboy. His face tightened. “I told you, Gabe and I are through. I have

nothing to say about him.”

The words barely left his lips before he was shoved into his apartment and slammed against the

open door, the cowboy’s powerful arm pinned against his throat. The man’s face was just inches from

him, eyes tight, and brow knit harshly. “You’re gonna fucking listen, you got it?”

Cole’s eyes bulged as he tried to breathe beneath the pressure of the man’s muscular forearm–

and nodded.

Chapter Twenty-One

The New Client

“Wake up, sunshine.”

“Cole…” Gabe tried to roll over but his body wouldn’t respond. His limbs were heavy, and felt

weighted down. He vaguely remembered Clint and Cochise retrieving him from the hotel and bringing

him back to Quint. He wasn’t entirely sure what had happened since then. It seemed he passed in and

out of consciousness regularly and considered that Quint was probably keeping him drugged.

He had no idea what day it was, or even if all of this had just been one long bad dream. Someone

had spoken to him but the voice was muffle in his ears. “Cole…” he mumbled again, his heart aching

for it to be him, to feel his touch and hear him confess his love again.

“No, not Cole.” Quinton’s voice came to focus and Gabe’s heart sank. Cole was still gone, and

still believing that Gabe had betrayed his love and his trust.

As his mind began to clear, Gabe recalled the photos of his club family tacked to the wall in the

room that had become his torture chamber. “Where’s…Abel?” The fear from before wrapped its

tentacles around him and began to squeeze. “What did you do…?”

Gabe was lying face down and he realized the weight on his arms were straps fastening his

wrists to the bed. His body hurt from the client’s torture and abuse, though he was sure it had been a

couple days since Clint had got him from hotel. Still, the sadistic bastard had done a number on him.

He had lost consciousness numerous times from both the pain and the drugs, but the man had always

managed to wake him again before continuing the torment. Gabe wasn’t certain what all the man had

done to him, and wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

His body hurt inside and out, and recalled being fucked numerous times–and the “violator”

hadn’t always been the man’s cock. He vaguely remembered having something cold and hard shoved

up his ass–and then shocked. The man had a thing for electricity. But unlike the sadistic motherfucker–

volts of electricity snapping through his body did not put Gabe in the mood to fuck.

“Abel is incidental,” Quint was saying. Gabe flinched when the man touched him, rubbing his

hands up and down his body, caressing his ass. “I have someone coming in later to take a look at you.

He has some very special needs and is eager to know if you can fulfill them. Apparently he has a hard

time finding men with enough ‘perseverance’ to handle his appetite.”

The bed shifted as Quint straddled Gabe’s ass. The man was naked–and sporting massive

erection. The last thing he wanted at this moment was a cock stuffed in his tender hole, but he’d be

damned if he begged the man not to fuck him.

Quint shifted and hovered over him on hands and knees, his mouth touching Gabe’s ear. “But I

assured him I had the man for the job. O’Brian was merely a test to see what you could endure. And

the fact that you made it through that experience in one piece is a testament to just how strong you

really are. This will be good news to many of my clients,” he smiled, “These boys, they have an

affinity for the rough stuff. But their public image doesn’t allow for indulgence…at least not openly.”

“If you hurt Abel…” Gabe rasped, ignoring Quint’s words, “I swear to God I’ll fucking kill

you.”

A soft chuckle rumbled in Quint’s throat as his hips lowered and he rubbed his cock between

Gabe’s ass cheeks. “I hardly think you’re in the position to be making threats,” he murmured. His

chest touched Gabe’s back as he lowered his weight down on him, shifted his hips then penetrated

Gabe’s body without care. Gabe grunted and bit back a sharp gasp.

“All you are now,” Quint groaned and thrust into him harder. Tears sprang to Gabe’s eyes as the

man’s hard cock felt abrasive against his slightly scorched inner lining. Quint’s arm snaked under

Gabe’s neck and curled around his throat, locking him in tight as he panted in his ear. “Is my bitch.

And keep in mind…Abel is only one of your family members. If you would like me to continue to

play with them all, then by all means–start acting up.” With that, he drove himself harder into him.

Gabe squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw as the man fucked him relentlessly, panting

and grunting on top of him, hips pounding his ass. Tears pushed out as his inner canal began to burn

from Quint’s cock ramming in and out of him. His entire body ached and throbbed and stung from

having been beaten and electrocuted and burned with hot needles.

It didn’t take Quint long to peak and he released a strangled wail and shot his wad. Gabe was

sickened by the fact that this time–he hadn’t worn a rubber. And when he pulled out, he felt the thick

shot of cum oozing out of him. Quint left the bed. “Almost time to get you presentable,” his breath was

quick, ragged, “Want you looking your best. I’ll be back soon to pretty you up.”

“Fuck you,” Gabe choked and shoved his face into the bed. The man had yet to clarify anything

concerning Abel, and at the same time continued to threaten the rest of his family.

Quint clucked his tongue. “You just did, baby.”

♦

The distinct glossy sheen to the man’s slightly flushed face and his absent adjusting of his crotch

when he walked in the room betrayed his recent activities. Clint sat at the short bar and pulled his

eyes off Quint. The bastard just fucked Gabriel. It had been a couple days since he’d retrieved

Gabriel from the hotel, but the man was still in bad shape. But clearly that mattered not to Quint.

Quinton walked behind the bar and produced a scotch glass and an accompanying bottle of the

liquor. He poured himself half a glass and set the bottle aside then sipped his drink as he stared dully

at Clint. The other three men–Anthony, Angelo and Cochise–sat in silence. Clint met Quint’s eyes.

“What?”

Drawing a deep breath, Quint released it slow. “Johnny Bale,” he spoke without emotion, “Want

to tell me about that?”

“Nothing to tell,” Clint sipped his drink. “That wasn’t my hit.”

“It had your signature all over it.”

Clint looked at him dully, “Then I guess someone forged my name.” To admit he’d capped

Johnny would raise a red flag with Quint. And he didn’t want Quint coming to the understanding that

Clint knew what he knew.

Shrugging, Quint murmured dryly, “If you say so.”

Whether or not Quint was suspicious was hard to say. The man was master of the poker face.

“You’re not gonna shed a tear over that squirrely little junkie, are ya?”

Quint chuffed and raised his glass to his lips, swallowed a drink and them licked his lips. “I

didn’t shed a tear when my mama died, didn’t blink when daddy bit it…why would I give a fuck

about a strung out coke blowing shit stick?”

“No reason to,” Clint murmured and nursed his drink as Quint continued to stare at him.

Glancing away, Quint downed the remainder of the scotch then rubbed his hand slowly over his

mouth, fingertips tracing the line of his thin mustache. “I want Gabriel presentable. I have a new client

coming in,” he looked at Clint. “You and Anthony take care of that. This is a special client with

special needs.”

“You’re putting him out again so soon?” Clint frowned.

“He’s ready,” was all Quint offered before leaving the room.

Clint licked his lips slowly and glanced at the other men. The corner of his mouth twitched.

“Time to cowboy up, boys,” he murmured and raised his glass. The three men raised their drinks and

passed him a single nod.

♦

The prospective client had a thin mustache resembling Quint’s but it was presented on a much

more appealing face. Although Gabe was fully aware of the demons that lurked beneath such lovely

countenances. As with the clients from the Circle, this one was expensively adorned and carried

himself with grace. Had it not been for his association with Quint, Gabe could have found the man

attractive. But the very fact that he was here killed the appeal.

Clint and Anthony had gotten him showered and dressed in tight, nearly see-through briefs and

the same black robe as before. Though neither man had said much, or even looked him straight in the

eye, they had taken care in their handling of him. He had no animosity towards the men, they were as

caught as he was.

“So, Mister Roaman,” Quint said, “What do you think of my boy?”

The client surveyed him then approached and slowly tugged loose the silk belt, allowing the front

of the robe to fall open. He caressed his fingertips down Gabe’s chest and over his hard stomach, a

single fingertip following the burn mark caused by the previous client’s red hot needle. “Rather

scuffed up,” he murmured, taking in the multiple abrasions and bruises and burns left behind from his

last time out.

“Superficial scarring,” Quint assured. “My boy Gabriel is unbreakable.”

Not for lack of “trying” to break me, motherfucker, Gabe thought coldly.

Roaman peeled off Gabe’s robe and laid it aside then walked a slow circle around him, his

fingertips brushing his skin, grazing across his ass then around to touch his cock. Are you gonna

shove your face in my crotch and smell me too, like the last sick bastard? But the man apparently

didn’t deem it necessary to be as thorough with his examination as O’Brian had. He nodded slowly

as he stepped closer to Gabe and cupped his face then ran his thumb over lips. “You have a lovely

mouth,” he murmured, then kissed him, surprisingly soft. When he drew back, he licked his lips and

spoke to Quinton, though his eyes remained locked with Gabe’s. “I’ll take him.”

Nodding, Quint smiled, “You won’t be disappointed.” He nodded to Clint. “Get him dressed and

ready to go.”

Clint took his arm gently and Gabe didn’t resist. The client watched him as they led him out.

When he was returned to Roaman after being dressed, the man had apparently settled his business

with Quint for nothing more was exchanged between them as the man walked Gabe out to his limo.

What’s stopping you from getting away from this guy? Quint’s gonna fuck with your family

whether you comply or not.

Gabe’s thoughts of escape were derailed when he caught a glimpse of the shoulder holster

beneath the man’s jacket. He was packing? Fuck. Gabe leaned his head back on the seat and closed

his eyes. Fear for Abel coursed through him, crippled him. He wanted to break and cry and scream,

beat the shit out of some flesh and blood bodies–anything but sit here and obey orders like a whipped

dog.

The limo made a multitude of turns onto various streets. The windows were tinted darker than in

O’Brian’s car and night was pressing down on the city. Gabe had no idea where the man was taking

him, or if he would even make it back this time. Roaman just stared out the side window without

casting Gabe a single glance. Quint had said this guy had special needs. Just what the fuck did he plan

to do with him? Could it honestly be any worse than what O’Brian had done? Short of cutting off

protruding parts of his body–how could it be worse?

Such thoughts pulled Abel’s face to the forefront of his mind. Tears pooled behind his closed lids

and began to seep out, draining down his temples. Please, God–let them kill me, I don’t give a fuck.

But please don’t let them hurt my baby. Not Abel. Please…

The limo rolled to a stop and the engine shut off. Gabe opened his eyes, a rush of tears freeing

and pouring down into his hair as he stared at the ceiling.

“We’ve arrived,” Roaman spoke low, neutral.

Gabe raised his head and the remaining tears changed course and rolled down his cheeks.

“Take comfort,” the man said, “It’ll be over real soon.”

What will be over soon? The sick acts you plan to perform on me? My life itself?

The driver got out and walked around, opening the back door. “Shall we?” Roaman stepped out

and waited.

Gabe swallowed hard, wiped his face and followed the man out of the limo–then froze in shock

as he stared at their destination. The brightly glowing sign overhead broke him and he began to shake,

a river of tears rushing forth.

The Phoenix Club.

The man had brought him home.

Gabe looked at him, vision blurred and distorted. “Who are you?”

For the first time since meeting the man, real emotion crept into his eyes and glazed them with

tears as he held out his hand. “Lex Roaman, at your service.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Unusual Turn of Events

Lex.

The name rang familiar but Gabe couldn’t place it. “What’s…going on?”

“Why don’t we talk about that inside?” Lex directed him towards the club entrance. Though the

outside sign was bright, the club was closed.

Gabe and Lex entered the front doors. The place was quiet, empty. The stage and floor lights

were off, the only illumination coming from the direction of the bar. When Gabe stepped through the

entrance, his damp eyes fell across his family. He searched them desperately and when his gaze

locked on Abel, his rooted feet broke free and he walked quickly across the floor and grabbed the

boy in his arms, crushing him in his embrace, crying against his neck.

Abel broke down and cried with him, hugging him fiercely.

“They told me…” Gabe choked and squeezed him harder, “They that you…”

“I know,” Abel cried softly, “Clint told us,” he cried harder, “Everything.” He drew back, face

streaked. “Are you…are you okay?”

His breath quick, heart pounding, Gabe’s eyes swept over the distraught faces of his loved ones

and coming to rest on Cole. The man stood back from the others a bit, eyes glossy, throat working as

the anguish in his stare cut to the heart of Gabe. You didn’t know, baby. Don’t blame yourself . He

shifted his gaze back to Abel, and nodded slowly, “Yeah…I am now.”

The others stepped forward, each embracing him hard, kissing him, and crying for what had been

done to him. When he made his way to Cole, the man just stared at him, perhaps afraid to move for

fear his legs wouldn’t hold him. Gabe closed the space and wrapped his arms around him and broke

again. Cole engulfed him in a smothering embrace and clung to him.

“Baby, I’m—” Gabe’s body jerked and his breath caught, then suddenly the room was spinning,

going dark as he fell from Cole’s arms. From a great distance away he heard Cole screaming his

name, and then the others.

And then all went silent and dark.

♦

“Gabe!” Cole hit the floor, knees cracking, grabbing Gabe’s still body. His fingers rubbed

through a warm, slick wetness on Gabe’s back and he jerked his hand up, horror coursing through him

at the sight of the smeared blood. “Gabe!” He pulled him forward against him and stared at the

spreading dark stain on his left shoulder and the small hole trickling with blood. “Fuck!” He looked

up helplessly as for a moment everyone seemed frozen in shock.

Then the moment passed and they spun around to find Quinton standing inside the entrance, gun in

hand, silencer screwed on the tip of the barrel. “Did you really think I would let him go?”

“Motherfucker!” Cole lunged off the floor but Dane caught him before he could rush the man.

“Cole!” he cried, fighting to hold him back, “No!”

Quint had the gun aimed at Cole’s head. “Come on,” he smirked, “Make my day.”

“You fuck!” Cole screamed, fighting Dane’s arms, uncaring of the weapon centered on him. “I’ll

fucking kill you! You motherfucker!”

Everyone was poised, ready to jump the man, but held in place by the aiming gun as it skipped

form one face to another. “So many choices,” Quint murmured, smiling, “Come on. Someone make a

move.” His gaze came back to Cole, but he spoke to Dane. “Ah, let him go. I always wanted to bag

me a wild animal.”

Dane’s face streaked with tears as he held tight to Cole, hugging him against his chest. “You

fucker,” he choked, “You just signed your death warrant.”

“We have to call an ambulance!” Abel cried. He was on the floor by Gabe, holding his head in

his lap. The pool of blood spreading out beneath Gabe’s body surged Cole with greater panic.

“Let’s don’t and say we did,” Quint winked. “In fact, how about we play eeny, meeny, miny,

moe…and see who’s It next?”

“How about we play club the fucker instead?” Clint came out of the shadows of the entrance hall

like a human bullet, a short stout club in hand, and caught Quinton up alongside the head before the

man even registered his presence.

Quinton dropped and Clint kicked the gun away then nailed him in the ribs with the hard tip of his

cowboy boot. Dane let Cole go and the man was on Quinton, fists hammer his face and body.

“Motherfucker!” he screamed, choking on his cries. Clint handed him the small club and Cole laid

into the man, beating the fuck out of him.

“Call the ambulance! Now!” Max shouted at Carl, who was already at the phone.

Cole could barely hear anything but the pumping of his own blood in his ears as nailed the man in

the face until he was unrecognizable. He threw down the club and lunged for the gun, shoving the tip

of the silencer hard against the man’s bloody forehead. “You motherfucker ,” he ground out, choking

on his cries and rage, “You are dead!” His finger grabbed the trigger and began to squeeze.

“No, Cole!” Clint stopped him then took the gun. “Leave that to someone else.” He pointed

towards the others, “Go to Gabe. I’ll take it from here.”

Cole stood on trembling legs, hands shaking, Quinton’s blood coating his fists. The “Indian” and

another guy Cole didn’t recognize came out of the shadows of the entrance and grabbed Quinton’s

barely conscious body.

“Take care of Gabe,” Clint said, fear in his eyes as he glanced toward his fallen friend.

“We’ll…” he looked to the men hauling Quinton away. “We’ll take care of Quint.”

Cole nodded, unable to stop the shakes racking his body. He hurried back to Gabe and dropped

down next to him, dragging the man into his arms and buried his face in his neck. “Come on, baby.

Hold on,” he cried, “Don’t you fucking leave me now.”

“Get some towels!” Max ordered and Abel and Angel rushed behind the bar, grabbing stacks of

the white hand towels. Max grabbed a couple and pressed them tight to the bullet wound. “Hold

these,” he told Cole and Cole gripped them as he hugged Gabe against him.

“Come on, baby,” he whispered in his hair, “You’re too tough to give up now.” He held him

tight, blood seeping through the towels and wetting his fingers. “Where the fuck is the ambulance!”

♦

Dane couldn’t calm his heart, could barely breathe as he followed the ambulance to the hospital.

The wailing sirens were like screams in his head. If Gabe died-

Don’t! Don’t even fucking go there! Tears ran down his face as he gripped the steering wheel

with one hand and Angel’s hand with the other. God, you brought us Abel home safe and sound. Just

one more, please. Please don’t let us down now. Don’t rip out the heart of our family.

“He’s gonna be okay…” Angel trembled and squeezed Dane’s hand tighter. “Isn’t he?”

“He has to be,” Dane whispered.

“Did he…” Angel choked on a sob. “Did he hit him in the…in the heart?”

“I don’t know,” Dane swallowed hard. But he sure as hell hit the rest of us there.

Gabe was rushed into surgery as soon as he arrived at the hospital, and Devlin met them, taking

them to a more private room to wait than the main waiting area. Abel clung to him, crying, while Cole

held Savannah. Caleb and Samuel held onto each other, and Caleb wasn’t doing a much better job

than anyone else at keeping a grip on his emotions. Lex had come to the hospital with them, ready to

pay for Gabe’s rushed transport to a specialist if it came to that.

“One of our best heart surgeons are working on him,” Devlin told them, trying to hold it together

himself. “He’s in good hands.”

“How soon will we know anything?” Dane asked thickly. “Do you know how bad it is?”

“No,” Devlin hugged Abel and rubbed his back soothingly, then kissed his hair. “Sometimes I

think it’s the worst thing I can tell people, but…we just have to wait.”

No, Dane thought sickly, that isn’t the “worst” thing you could tell us.

Max stepped over and took a gentle hold on Abel and transferred him into his own arms, holding

the boy tight. Carl stood with Max, his arm around his shoulder. “Just let us know the second you hear

anything,” Max told Devlin as the man moved back towards the door of the private room.

“Of course,” Devlin nodded. “Just try to stay positive and…pray.”

“Already going on that one, doc,” Dane murmured. He walked over to Angel and Maddy and sat

between them, wrapping his arms around both the boys. “It’s gonna be okay,” he insisted, “Gabe’s a

tough son of a bitch. Probably tougher than all of us put together.” He kissed them each on the head

then met Cole’s frightened eyes. “He’s gonna make it through just fine.”

♦

Leaving Abel with Cole and Savannah, Max took a brief leave and walked outside, needing the

air. His chest hurt, a pressure crushing it down against his heart. He leaned against the exterior brick

wall of the hospital and hugged himself. Sobs hit him suddenly, bringing him down fast and he curled

over, crying openly.

When a hand touched his shoulder and Carl spoke to him, he wrapped his arms around the man

and cried on his shoulder. Carl held him, stroking his back. “Hey, babe,” he whispered, voice thick

with tears, “Everything’s gonna be okay. It will.”

“What if it isn’t?” Max choked, “I can’t lose him. We can’t lose him.”

“We’re not going to lose him,” Carl whispered. He went silent a moment, then asked quietly,

“Do you want to call Horatio? Let him know what’s going on?”

Max stiffened. The truth was, the moment everything went down–Horatio was the first one he’d

wanted to run to. And standing here in Carl’s arms, the man soothing him…it filled Max with guilt.

“I-I don’t know, I…”

“It’s okay,” Carl drew back. “I understand if you need to talk to him at a time like this.”

Max swallowed thickly and cleared his throat. “Maybe I should, he…he would want to know.”

“Okay,” Carl nodded then kissed him softly, “Call him. I’ll be back inside.”

His lips pressed tight, Max looked at him. “Thank you.”

Carl smiled and nodded, then walked back through the entrance doors. Max watched him till he

was out of sight, then took out his phone and stared at it. Would this just pry open the door he’d been

trying to close?

♦

“This place is great,” Seth entered the penthouse and looked around. Horatio closed the door

then followed him in. He’d had qualms about coming back to the city, but if he was serious about

moving out of the country permanently, then there were things he had to take care of–business and

personal.

“Thanks,” he smiled and gazed at the young man. He was continually awestruck by the things

Horatio presented to him. Rather growing dull to it all, he seemed to become more enamored. So

much like Abel. “Make yourself at home,” he said, “I’m going to check my office for any faxes.”

Seth nodded and wandered over to the large windows overlooking the city. Horatio walked

down the hall and entered him home office. The fax tray contained a few items and he picked them up,

thumbing through the papers, most of which was what he expected, business specs and such. But the

last item faxed over from the main office was marked personal and had a note attached from one of

his assistants. He read the note then looked at the documents send with it.

His heart hit his chest wall so hard it knocked the wind out of him. “What…” He grabbed his

chair and dropped into it before his legs gave out and landed him on the floor. He couldn’t breathe as

his pulse spiked then slowed to a near stop then spiked again, the erratic rhythm laboring the air

rushing in and out of his lungs. “What…” Tears rushed out before he could think to resist them and the

papers slipped from his hands, floating to the floor. “God,” he choked and buried his face in his hands

then gripped his hair.

“Can I grab a drink from the bar?” Seth called from the other room.

Horatio struggled to regain his composure and snatched up the papers. He cleared his throat.

“Uh, yeah,” he hollered back, “Whatever you want.” His hands shook, fresh tears rising as he stared

at the documents. “Max…” he whispered, “Ah fuck…Max…”

His cell buzzed and he jumped, wiping quick at his eyes. His heart went even wilder when he

stared at Max’s name on the phone display. Trying to breathe normal, he answered the call, “Max…”

He didn’t get anything else out as Max explained the situation with Gabe. Max was a mess,

though he was trying to keep it together.

“I’m back in the city,” Horatio said thickly, “I’ll be right there.”

When he hung up, he looked at the papers again, then took them to his private wall safe and put

them inside. Shock still had a grip on him and this was the wrong time to decide what to do about it.

He returned to the other room and told Seth what was happening. He considered having Seth stay

there, and going to the hospital alone. But changed his mind and took the young man with him.

How could he look Max in the eyes and pretend everything was the same?

He glanced at Seth sitting next to him in the back of the limo. The young man held his hand, his

touch soothing, comforting–and his heart began to break down.

What the hell am I going to do?

Chapter Twenty-Three

Don’t Go Breaking My Heart

Ricky arrived at the hospital almost simultaneously as Levi. Dane must have called them back to

back. “What in the fuck is going on?” Levi asked, cold fear pinching the skin around his eyes as they

shoved through the hospital entrance doors together. “How the fuck did Gabe get shot? Was it

random, like a drive-by? Like on the highway the other night?”

“I don’t know,” Ricky whispered, his throat tight. Dane hadn’t given him any concrete

information, and apparently not to Levi either. He’d just told him Gabe had been shot and he was in

surgery, and they didn’t know yet how bad it was.

“This is fucked up,” Levi mumbled.

Ricky nodded. When they found the private waiting room, it was nearly packed already. Ricky

went straight to Cole and hugged him tight. “I’m so sorry,” he choked, “What the hell happened?” He

stepped back and wiped his face. “I mean…how the fuck does something like this just happen?”

“It didn’t just happen,” Max said quietly, then explained the basics of the situation, not wanting

to go into “extreme” detail in front of Savannah, or even Maddy. “The bastard came gunning for

Gabe.”

“Holy shit,” Ricky swallowed hard and looked at Levi. The other boy stared at him, eyes wide

with shock and horror.

“Why didn’t…” Levi’s voice cracked and he cleared his throat, his eyes watering. “Why didn’t

Gabe tell anyone what was going on?”

“He couldn’t,” Cole whispered as he sat down on the edge of a cushioned chair, elbows grinding

into his legs as he stared at the floor. Despair resonated forth from the man–not just a result of the

current situation…but for so many other reasons as well. “That fucker used us all against him.

Threatened us.” He raised his eyes and glanced at Angel and Maddy, then back to Ricky. “He was the

one who got Byrd out of jail and sent him after Angel and Maddy,” he swallowed hard, face pinching

with rage and pain, “To prove a point to Gabe…that he could take any one of us out at any given

moment.” He shook his head slowly, eyes blank as he stared at his hands, still stained with blood.

“Gabe knew what we would do if we found out…he was afraid of what would happen to us if we

went after that motherfucker.”

“Fuck,” Ricky whispered. He looked at Max. “Have they said anything yet, about the seriousness

of his condition?”

“No,” Max shook his head.

The man sitting next to Cole looked familiar but Ricky couldn’t put his finger on just who the guy

was. He started to shift his eyes away then it hit him suddenly–the customer Angel had taken into the

booth the night he’d broken down in the bathroom. Or maybe he was mistaken. Maybe this guy simply

resembled him. Why would one of the club customers be here? But that was of little consequence

right now.

Though he had been avoiding Levi since the day he’d almost blurted out his feelings to the guy,

and was frankly still pissed at him, Ricky still found himself hovering close to the other boy,

somehow taking comfort in his presence. He wanted to wrap his arms around him, feel Levi holding

him now, but he didn’t make the move, though he was pretty sure he wouldn’t be denied. But they

weren’t boyfriends, and were barely even friends–or so Ricky continued to tell himself. The fear of

Gabe’s life hanging in the balance, though…it filled Ricky with a sense of vulnerability.

Levi touched his arm in a casually absent way, and Ricky wasn’t sure the guy even realized he

was doing it. But it felt good, even that small touch. He reached out and pressed his hand lightly

against Levi’s lower back, on the verge of actually sliding his arm around his waist, when Ashton

came through the waiting room door. Ricky withdrew instantly, wondering if the guy had some kind of

mental sonar to alert him when Ricky and Levi were having a “moment”, so he could rush in and ruin

it.

Stop being so fucking self-centered and selfish. He’s here for Gabe too. Now isn’t the time to

be fretting over your fucking crush. Levi glanced at Cole and the others and felt like shit even

thinking about anything but Gabe right now. He ignored the twinge of jealousy when Ashton went to

Levi and hugged him, then thanked him for calling him. Ricky moved away from then and went to sit

by Angel, speaking quietly to him and Dane.

The door opened again and they all glanced up. Horatio Kaplan stepped through and hesitated,

then sought out Max. Behind him, a younger man–maybe a couple years older than Ricky–lingered in

the doorway, stepping through just enough to let the door close.

♦

“Horatio,” Max stared at him a moment, his throat instantly knotting with a multitude of emotions,

then darted past to the young man with him. Making a quick sweep of his features, it didn’t escape him

how much the kid resembled Max himself from his younger years.

Horatio just looked at him, unmoving, silent.

“Who’s your friend?” Max asked thickly. How could he be jealous when Carl stood not two feet

away?

Horatio blinked and came out of his mild trance. “Oh,” he turned around and motioned Seth

forward, then touched his hand to the young man’s back. “This is Seth. We met in Cancun,” he looked

at Seth, “This is Max.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Max held out his hand.

Seth shook it. “You too. I’ve heard a lot about you.” He seemed almost intimidated by Max, only

meeting his eyes in quick, brief intervals.

Releasing the kid’s hand, Max looked at Horatio. “Thank you for coming down.”

“Is he going to be all right?” Horatio asked with concern.

Max ducked his head, the fear cutting through him. “He has to be all right.” Horatio’s arms were

around him before he knew it, then he was hugging the man back, clinging to him.

“I need to talk to you, Max,” he whispered, barely audible, “Later…after all this. It’s important.”

Max nodded against his shoulder, then stepped back, tears pooling. Something in the man’s tone

had caused a strange tickle in his stomach and funny flutter to his heart. What did he have to say that

was so important?

♦

Cole couldn’t take his eyes off his blood stained hands. Gabe’s blood mingled with Quinton’s.

As if Quinton’s blood had no right to touch Gabe’s, he began to rub at his hands, trying to wipe it off,

feeling a sudden desperation to get rid of it. He knew he was just having a reaction to the severe

stress and trauma of the moment, but he couldn’t control it.

“Cole?” Lex murmured, “What’s wrong?”

“It…it won’t come off,” he choked quietly, beginning to rub harder. Tear filled up and spilled

over. “I-I can’t get the blood off.” He could feel the others looking at him, some spoke his name with

concern but he just scrubbed at his hands, growing frantic.

“Easy,” Lex stood up and drew him to his feet. “Come on, we’ll go to the restroom and you can

wash it off.”

Cole nodded, his hands shaking. Would he have a nervous breakdown? It felt like everything

inside him was coming apart.

In the restroom, Lex turned on the water and had him put his hands under the stream then dumped

liquid soap into his palm. His hands were still shaking and Lex helped him wash away the blood,

though a faint stain lingered. Cole trembled and leaned against the sink. “Thank you,” he whispered

unsteadily. Lex handed him some paper towels and he dried his hands. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Lex murmured and squeezed his shoulder, “No apologies necessary. This is a hell of

a thing for all of you to have to go through.”

Cole stared at the floor, the damp paper towels still gripped in his hands. “He never cheated on

me,” he whispered.

“What?”

“Gabe,” Cole swallowed hard, throat working, “He didn’t cheat on me…he wasn’t unfaithful.

They made him do it.” He ducked his head and covered his eyes with his hand, crying softly, “But no

one made me do it. I was the one who betrayed him. And…” He cried harder, shaking his head. “And

all the time…the things he was going through…that they were doing to him.”

Lex pulled him into his arms and held him. “Hey,” he whispered, “You didn’t know what was

happening. And he knows that you didn’t know. I saw the way he looked at you when he came into the

club tonight. He didn’t care about anything except being with you.”

“What if he doesn’t make it?” Cole cried and hugged him desperately. “What am I gonna do? I

can’t lose him…I can’t…”

“Come on now,” Lex murmured, “We’re supposed to be thinking positive, right? I didn’t know

Gabe, but the very short time I spent with him tonight…I saw he was another man of strength, like

you. Men like you and Gabe, you’re survivors, you beat the odds. Don’t give up on him.”

Cole stepped back and grabbed a couple fresh paper towels and dampened them then washed his

face. “You’re right,” he said thickly, “Gabe made it through all their other shit…he’ll make it through

this.”

“That’s what I’m talking about,” Lex smiled and reached out, wiping away a rogue tear.

A knock thumped through the door, then Dane’s voice, “Cole? Devlin’s back. He has news about

Gabe.”

Cole’s gut tightened; for all his “positive” talk, he was terrified of what the doctor might tell

them.

Back in the waiting room, Devlin hadn’t said a word, waiting for Dane to get back with Cole and

Lex.

“What is it?” Cole trembled, unable to read Devlin’s face. “How is he?”

“He’s still in surgery,” Devlin said. Abel came to him and wrapped his arms around him. “But

the word is…the bullet grazed the top of his heart. A few centimeters lower and…” he shook his

head, “He wouldn’t have made it to the hospital alive.”

“What are saying exactly,” Max pressed.

“It’s still a little touch and go, but…” he smiled, tears shimmering, “He should come through it

just fine. Talk about a miracle. Someone was looking out for him.”

Cole grabbed Devlin and hugged him until the man grunted, as did Abel who got caught between

them. “I fucking love you, doc,” Cole choked then grabbed his face and kissed him on the mouth.

“Hey,” Abel scowled.

Cole laughed then kissed him too. “Better?”

“Yeah,” Abel nodded then laughed, tears running down his beautiful face.

♦

“Oh fuck,” Max breathed, wiping the tears from his face. “You fucking boys are going to be the

death of me.”

Horatio laughed softly, unable to take his eyes off Max as the man made his rounds, hugging all

his boys, and Savannah. When he came to Carl, the hug was deeper and more intimate, and their kiss

was different than the kisses he shared with the others. Carl gazed at him with warmth and affection,

and stroked the tears from his face, whispered something to him softly then kissed him again.

He’s in love with him . It was right there, for all to see. A hand touched his arm and Horatio

glanced at Seth. He nodded towards the door. “I’m going to step out and get some air.” The boy’s

eyes jumped away from Horatio’s gaze a little too quickly, but not quick enough for him to detect the

glimmer of fear in them. He isn’t blind. He sees the way you still look at Max.

“Seth…”

“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” Seth mumbled, then slipped out of the room.

Fuck. Horatio looked at Max and Carl again. There was real affection between them, from both

directions. When Max caught him watching them, he walked over. “I’m too old for this shit,” he

smiled, “I can’t take this kind of stress.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Horatio murmured. He met Max’s eyes then pressed his lips tight

to keep them from trembling. Fuck, Max…why now? Why did it have to wait till now?

“You okay?” Max asked softly, and the concern in his voice nearly reduced Horatio to tears.

“Yeah,” he swallowed hard. “I’m really glad Gabe’s going to be okay. He’s a good man.”

“He is,” Max smiled, still teary-eyed.

Horatio stepped forward and hugged him. “I should go,” he whispered, “Get out of the way.”

“You’re not in the way,” Max held him tight and he could still feel the love in the man’s embrace

that had always been there. He squeezed his eyes shut, absorbing as much of it as he could, then

opened his eyes and saw Carl looking at them with the same uncertainty and fear that he’d seen in

Seth’s eyes.

This isn’t just about you and Max anymore. And you have no right to make any decisions

without bringing into consideration these other two men.

Pulling back, Horatio smiled, “Well, you have enough to contend with. I’ll talk to you later.

Check and see how Gabe is recovering.”

“Okay…” Max seemed reluctant for him to go, but he had to. He couldn’t be here right now.

“Hey…what did you want to talk to me about?”

Horatio shook his head slowly, an ache in his throat, his chest. “Nothing.”

“You said it was important.”

“Not so much,” Horatio whispered, his emotions welling fast. “Not anymore.”

Max frowned. “Okay, if you say so.”

“I’m going to go.” Horatio leaned in and kissed his cheek. “I’m happy for you,” he whispered,

struggling to keep his voice level. “That you found someone like Carl.” When he drew back, his

vision was distorted with a film of tears. “I wish you the best.”

“Horatio…” Tears glazed Max’s eyes.

“I have to go,” Horatio murmured and turned away, leaving the room before the tears could

break. As soon as he stepped into the hall, they began to fall. Rather than going straight outside, he

ducked into the restroom and waited out the sobs. He couldn’t let Seth see him like this.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Best Laid Plans

Gabe drifted up to consciousness in a very slow ascent, sounds coming to him one at a time. The

first thing he heard was the steady beep of a machine and in his half-conscious state thought it was the

microwave in his kitchen alerting him that some food or drink item was heated. But why would he be

in his apartment? The last thing he remembered was being taken to the club…seeing everyone…

hugging Cole and then…nothing.

Another mechanical machine sound made itself known. And then voice, muffled, as if outside the

room. Moving back and forth, like people walking by. He tried to open his eye but they felt extremely

heavy. Like when you were drugged. For a quick moment, panic struck him; was the ride to the club

just a dream? Had the man actually taken him to another personal, private torture chamber? Was that

why he couldn’t move? Why he felt restrained by cords?

His hands moved and he felt the slight pressure of the I.V. and the attached tubing. Then the heart

monitor feeds stuck to his chest. What the hell? He tried to sit forward, his eyes barely open, when

hands touched him. “Don’t try to move.”

Gabe frowned and forced his eyes open wider. “Cole…”

“Just lay still, baby,” his voice was thick, as if he’d been crying, “You’re going to be fine, but

you need to rest.”

“What…happened?” he mumbled weakly, his throat dry.

“We’ll talk about that later,” Cole said, “When you feel stronger.”

Gabe’s hand felt like lead as he grabbed for Cole. The man took his hand and he felt warm lips

kiss the back. “I’m sorry…Cole…”

Fingers slid through his hair then Cole kissed his warm brow. “Shhh, just rest, baby. We’ll talk

about everything later.”

“I love you…”

Tears dripped onto his cheek from Cole’s face as the man pressed his head against his temple. “I

know you do, Gabe,” he choked softly, “I know, baby. I love you too.”

Gabe tried to say more but he was slipping out of consciousness as his exhausted body embraced

much needed sleep.

♦

“Is he awake?” Max asked when Cole came out of the room.

“He was,” Cole said, “For a few minutes. Then he went out again. He doesn’t remember what

happened.”

“How long will it be before he’s awake enough to visit?” Caleb asked.

Devlin shook his head, “Not tonight. Doctor Michael’s wants him to rest till morning before he

has many visitors. And I think that’s a good idea too.”

Caleb nodded. “All right. Well, now that we can rest easy, we’ll head home and come back

tomorrow.”

Ricky stood back as Cole embraced Caleb and then Samuel, told them he loved them and then

Dane followed suit.

“Shit,” Samuel chuckled and shook his head. “You guys damn hard on the heart.”

“Ah but you love us anyway,” Dane winked.

“Indeed,” Samuel laughed.

Caleb gave Dane an extra hug and light kiss. “We’ll see you good people tomorrow then.”

They walked away with a chorus of “Goodbye” “See ya” “Love you” to accompany them out.

Ricky approached Cole and hugged him too, then stepped back. “I think I’ll take off as well.

Come and see Gabe tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Cole said, “Thanks for being here.” He glanced at Levi and Ashton who lingered back.

“All of you. Gabe is lucky to have so many friends who love him.”

“Can’t help but love Gabe,” Ricky smiled.

“Tell me about it,” Cole laughed softly.

Ricky chuckled then tossed a wave to Cole and those still remaining. Levi and Ashton fell in line

with him. “We’ll walk out with you,” Levi said then bid the rest of them goodbye.

With Gabe safe out of harm’s way, Ricky’s tension with Levi crept back in. He didn’t reply but

merely shrugged, both hurt and angry with the young man for the other day. For a split second there, he

had thought Levi might actually feel something for him, see him as more than a casual fuck. But the

guy was still hanging out with Ashton, and had in fact run out on Levi to be with him.

Just give it up. The guy is never going to be serious with you.

Upon exiting the hospital, Ricky headed for his car, tossing a mumbled–“See ya guys later”–at

Levi and Ashton. He only managed a few strode before Levi grabbed his arm.

“Hey,” he said, “I thought maybe we could hang out, I could come over to your place. All this

shit with Gabe has got me wired. It’s gonna take me a while to wind down.”

“So go hang with Ashton,” Ricky muttered. “I’m not your convenient fuck.” He jerked his arm

from Levi’s grip.

“What is with you?” Levi stared at him.

“You’re an idiot,” Ricky shook his head.

“Fine,” Levi shrugged, “I’m an idiot. So spell it out for me.”

“No,” Ricky muttered and walked towards his car again.

“Why?” Levi called after him.

Ricky ignored him and kept walking.

“Why won’t you say it?” Levi hollered, a sudden strain to his voice. “What’re you afraid of,

Ricky?”

Ricky stopped and turned on him. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You know what,” Levi said.

Walking back towards him a few steps, Ricky threw up his hands. “No, I don’t. Why don’t you

tell me what you think I know?”

Levi stared at him, breath rushing in and out. He closed the space between them suddenly and

grabbed Ricky’s head, kissing him hard, then released him and stepped back. “That you’re in love

with me.”

Ricky trembled, throat tight. “That’s your delusion.”

“Why won’t you admit it?” There was slight gloss to Levi’s eyes.

“Why would I?” Ricky cried suddenly and moved forward. “Why the fuck would I admit such a

thing to guy who dicks everything in sight?” he shoved Levi back, not hard, but with just enough

force to make his point.

Levi shoved him back. “I’m only dicking you!”

“Bullshit!”

“Whoa.” Ashton approached them cautiously. “We gonna have a rumble?”

“Fuck you!” Ricky glared at him, eyes burning.

Ashton’s phone went off and he held up one finger as he dug it out of his pocket. “Hold that

thought,” he looked at the phone, “I gotta take this or I’ll be in deep shit.” Ricky just stared at him as

the man opened the phone and pressed it to his ear. “Hey beautiful, what’s doin’?” He paused then

laughed, “Well, besides me and you in about twenty minutes?”

A tight frown pinched Ricky’s brow as he slowly turned his eyes back to Levi. The guy just

looked at him, one eyebrow slightly arched but said nothing.

“I’m sorry I’m late, babe,” Ashton spoke into the phone, “A friend went into the hospital

unexpectedly and we stopped by to make sure he was all right.” He nodded silently then added,

“Okay. I’ll see you soon. Love you–and your smokin’ hot body.” He chuckled then closed the phone.

He looked at Ricky. “Okay, where were we? Oh I remember, you had just said Fuck you. You guys

didn’t continue without me now, did you?”

Levi shook his head, lips twisting in a smile. “Shit.”

“What the fuck is going on?” Ricky glanced between the two men then settled on Ashton. “What?

Are you fucking around on your boyfriend?”

“Boyfriend?” Ashton looked at Levi, frowning. Then he smiled and nodded, “Oh I see what’s

happening here,” he looked at Ricky. “You think I’m gay.” He smirked and nodded. “No wonder you

think your boy’s been dicking me.”

“Fuck,” Levi grinned, “You’re a moron.”

“Me?” He poked himself in the chest, “All this was your idea. So if he punches someone, it

should be you.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Ricky stared at them, confused.

“Look,” Ashton said, “All I did was ask Levi to get me a job at the club so I could make some

extra money to put towards my upcoming wedding. It was his idea,” he pointed at Levi, “To make you

think I was gay and get you jealous enough to admit you liked him.”

“What?”

“It would’ve worked too,” Levi grumbled and stared at Ricky, “If you weren’t such a stubborn

ass.”

“Excuse me?” Ricky shook his head, incredulous. “Why would I say I liked you when you gave

me every reason to think you were fucking him?” He stabbed his finger at Ashton.

“For the record,” Ashton interjected, “I told him it was a really bad idea and it would likely only

get him a swift kick in the balls.”

Ricky eyed Ashton skeptically. “And if you’re not gay, why the hell would you want to dance in a

gay club?”

“Because I needed the money,” he said, then grinned sheepishly, “And my fiancée…she wasn’t at

all copasetic with me dancing in a club where horny women stuffed cash in my crotch. With the men,

she had nothing to worry about.”

Ricky rubbed his eyes. “This is giving me a headache.”

“And the reason your boy was always hanging out with me,” Ashton said, “Besides to make you

jealous,” he smacked Levi in the back of the head, “The dumb ass. He was helping me to plan a

surprise engagement party for my lady.”

“So,” Ricky shook his head, “You guys knew each from…where?”

“California.” Levi said, “We worked in the same dance club. Like he said, his woman didn’t

allow him to dance for the ladies.”

Sighing, Ricky groaned and looked at Levi. “He’s right, you know?”

“How so?” Levi smirked.

Rolling his eyes, Ricky grabbed him and kissed him hard, then growled, “You are a dumb ass.”

♦

Hugging and kissing them all goodbye, Abel took Savannah home. Soon after, Max gathered up

an exhausted Maddy and a weary Angel to take home as well. Cole refused to leave the hospital and

Dane offered to stay with him but he urged the man to go home and get some rest. Devlin assured them

he would be there most of the night as well and would stop by to check on Cole and chat with him.

After some convincing, Devlin got Doctor Michael’s to allow Cole to stay in Gabe’s room if he

promised to be quiet and let the man rest. Cole took up residence in a not so comfortable hard

cushioned chair by the window. But he didn’t care. Sleep wasn’t really an option tonight anyway. At

least he hadn’t thought so. But one moment he was leaning back in the chair watching Gabe sleep–and

the next he was waking up to a powerful ray of sunlight blinding his eyes. Apparently when the body

was done–it was done, and could sleep anywhere.

A nurse was in the room checking Gabe’s vitals. He was fully awake, though there remained a

slight weight to his eyelids. When the woman left, Cole sat forward and stretched his back with had

horrible kink in his lower spine and his neck felt a little cock-eyed as well. “Why didn’t you wake

me?” Cole moaned when he stood up.

Gabe smiled. “You were sleeping so soundly, looked like you needed it.”

Cole stretched again. “Sure don’t feel like it was a sound sleep.” He walked to the bed, leaned

down and started to kiss Gabe’s lips then drew back a little. “You don’t mind morning breath, do

you?”

“Have I ever minded?”

Cole chuckled and kissed him, allowing it to draw out, deepen. He moaned; God, he had missed

this man’s kiss. When he finally pulled out if it, Gabe gasped softly, “Damn, maybe I should get shot

more often.”

Shaking his head, Cole groaned, “Not.”

Gabe laughed softly and took his hand, kissing his bruised knuckles. “Tell me Quint’s face did

this to your hands,” he murmured.

“You better believe it, baby,” Cole sat on the edge of the bed. “The fucker’s gonna need

reconstructive surgery to even look human again.” Cole shrugged, “Well, he would, but…he left with

Clint and his buddies, so…”

Gabe wove his fingers through Cole’s. “Why did they do it? They took an oath to the family.”

“As I understand it,” Cole said, “They took an oath to Nathan, first and foremost.”

“Yeah.”

“Gabe,” Cole squeezed his hands gently then met his eyes. “Clint found out that…” he shook his

head slowly, “That Quinton had Nathan killed. Got some junkie to do it, then repaid the favor by

helping him get out of the joint.”

“What?” Gabe swallowed thickly. “He…” Tears formed. “He murdered Nathan? Just so he

could…could do this shit to me?”

Cole nodded slowly. “Looks that way,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry, Gabe.”

“Motherfucker,” Gabe choked.

“Clint also thinks he might have been the one who turned Nathan into the police in the first

place.”

Gabe closed his eyes. “All of it…was because of me?”

“No,” Cole said sternly, “None of it was your fault. Quinton is a sick, twisted motherfucker.

Don’t ever blame yourself for the acts of a fucking psycho.”

Rubbing his eyes, Gabe whispered, “I wish you could have met Nathan. He was one of the good

guys,” he smiled, tears in his eyes, “Even if, technically, he was a bad guy.”

“Well,” Cole winked, “I think all of us ‘good’ guys have a little bad guy in there as well. It helps

us do what we gotta do at times, even when it ain’t so pretty.”

Gabe smiled then looked at Cole. “So who was that guy Lex? I thought he was one of Quint’s

clients.”

“That was the idea,” Cole said. “Clint knew there was no way we could just take you out of

there. He said that Quinton had those who would back him up regardless of the fact that he’d taken out

Nathan. The risk for you was too great. He was the one who suggested someone go in posing as a

client. But it had to be someone who was rich.” Cole shook his head. “Our first thought was Horatio

Kaplan, but he was too directly connected to the club and Max–your family. It would be too easy for

Quinton to connect the dots.”

“So where did you find this Lex guy?”

Cole shifted. “He was one of the club customers. But not such a frequent customer that any

connections would be made,” he sighed, “But apparently Quinton got a bad vibe about the deal, and

I’m guessing he followed Lex when he took you out of there. So all our precautions were for nothing,

I guess.” He looked at Gabe. “You still got shot. We still almost lost you.”

“But you didn’t lose me,” he murmured, “I’m still here. And you got to give kudos the Lex. The

man was quite convincing. He had me fooled. Whatever tipped off Quinton, it wasn’t anything Lex

did. The man played his part perfectly.”

Cole fell silent as he gazed at Gabe, the hurt seeping back into his heart at the mention of Lex and

things he’d when he’d thought Gabe had betrayed him.

“What’s wrong?” Gabe asked quietly.

“Gabe,” Cole lowered his eyes and gripped the man’s hands. “When I thought that you…” He

faltered, voice straining. “I…I did some things that…I wish to God I could undo.”

“I know,” Gabe whispered, eyes glossy.

“How do you know?”

Gabe drew him down and kissed him softly. “Because I would’ve done the same things in your

place. That kind of pain…it has to be dealt with, one way or another.” He kissed him again as Cole

trembled against his lips. “You had no cause to be faithful to me. And I don’t blame for doing those

things.”

Lowering his head to Gabe’s shoulder, Cole shuddered, “Why is it Dane and Angel and even

Max could see that something was off, that something was wrong…and I just believed the worst about

you?” He closed his eyes, sobs shaking him.

Gabe slid his fingers through his hair and kissed his head. “Because none of them were my

boyfriend. And their hearts weren’t invested in the same way as yours was.” He kissed Cole’s ear,

his voice unsteady, “And they didn’t see what you saw.” Gabe shuddered and cried softly, “I never

wanted you to see that, Cole. I’m so sorry.”

Sitting up, Cole wiped his face. “What hurt the most about that,” he whispered and slid his thumb

across Gabe’s tear streaked cheek, “Was thinking you were doing it because you wanted to.”

“I wasn’t,” Gabe whispered.

Cole smiled through his tears. “I know, baby.”

“Can I ask you something?” Gabe scooted up carefully and took hold of Cole’s hands again.

“Of course.”

Gabe licked his lips slowly and squeezed Cole’s hands. “Do you think…” he swallowed

nervously. “Do you think you might one day want to…?” He met Cole’s eyes and held them, love

emanating out of him so strong it melted Cole’s heart into a gooey puddle.

“Want to what, babe?” Cole murmured.

Gabe smiled uncertainly, “Marry me?” When Cole just stared at him, stunned, Gabe whispered,

“One day…maybe?”

Tears rose up too quick for Cole hold back. “Can that day be today?”

EPILOGUE

Choices

Not much had been spoken between Horatio and Seth through the previous night since returning

from the hospital. Seth had sent to bed, said he was exhausted. Horatio had stayed up, drinking and

watching the city through the floor to ceiling windows in the living room. He hadn’t gone near his safe

all night, his mind fucked and unsure how to un-fuck it. Underneath everything, though, he knew what

he had to do.

It was too late. There was no going back. Max didn’t need to know; he had a good man in his life

who made him happy. And Horatio did as well. He would bear this secret alone and spare Max the

torment. The man had suffered enough because of all this as it was. It was time for him to move on, be

free.

In his heart of hearts, Horatio never would. But then, even before…he would’ve never

completely let go.

When the morning sun began to pour through the window and warm the thick, soft blue carpet,

Horatio went to his office and opened the safe. The bedroom down the hall was quiet, Seth still

asleep. No one had to know about this.

He took the documents, read them one last time, and then turned on the paper shredder. His throat

knotted and the tears flowed as he held the first page above the grinding slot. His face crumpled and

rather than dumping the papers through the shredder, he threw them in the waste basket and dropped

into his chair, head in his hands, crying.

♦

The sight of the broken man broke Seth’s heart. As hard as Horatio tried to believe he could

move on from Max, he couldn’t. Seth had believed it too–until he’d seen them together at the hospital.

Max was with another man as well, but how long could that last, really, when his heart so completely

belonged to Horatio still? Had the other guy seen it too?

Horatio sat at his desk, head in his hands, sobs shaking his body. Seth stared at the waste basket,

the papers dumped inside. He had tried to shred them…but couldn’t. When the man finally sat up,

Seth slipped back down to the bedroom. Only when he heard the shower turn on did he venture out

again and go to Horatio’s office. He took the papers from the trash and sat down in the man’s chair,

looking through them.

“Oh my god,” he whispered, and his own tears flooded out. Swallowing thickly, he glanced

towards the door; the shower was still going. Choking on a rush of sobs, Seth took the papers to the

small copier and made duplicates of the documents, then dropped the originals back into the

wastebasket.

He took the copies to the bedroom and sat on the bed, looking at them again, crying softly.

When the shower shut off, Seth quickly folded the papers and stuffed them down deep into his

sports bag beneath his clothes and books and other personal items.

He understood what those documents meant for all of them. Even if Horatio wouldn’t admit it.

♦

“What should we do with him?” Anthony sat at the bar, nursing a beer. Angelo and Cochise

looked to Clint expectantly.

Clint could think of a multitude of ways to deal with the man, but he liked the idea of poetic

justice the best. “Well,” he murmured and dropped cubes of ice into his scotch glass. He looked at

Anthony. “He was rather fond of the Circle.” Clint glanced at the others then back to Anthony. “Call

O’Brian. Tell him Quint broke the confidentiality contract and is going to expose him,” he smiled,

“Then invite him back to the Circle for a very special auction.”

“And what about O’Brian?” Cochise murmured, “He gonna get away with what he did to

Gabriel?”

Chuckling softly, Clint dumped in the liquor on top of the ice cubes then picked up his glass.

“Come on, Cochise. Serious questions only.”

The man grunted and nodded, then scowled, “And stop fucking calling me Cochise.”

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