WHEN ANGELS FALL

CJ BISHOP

Chapter One

Cast Down

Keep it together. Just walk straight. Don’t look at anyone. Don’t talk to anyone.

The noise inside the club seemed extra deafening, forcing inside Angel’s head then trying to beat

its way out again until his entire skull throbbed and threatened to crack apart. The bodies of the men

blurred, melting together, just hazy blobs shifting before him, all around him. He bumped into hard

crotches, groping hands, sweaty chests but kept forging his way through the stormy sea of hungry

creatures.

A quick glance toward the bar and he spotted Cole talking to Carl. Next to him, Gabe sat on a

barstool reeling in a customer in his cool, collected manner. Angel wove deeper into the bodies to

avoid detection; he couldn’t talk to them right now. He couldn’t talk period. His throat felt like it had

a large stone lodged in the center and it hurt like hell, forcing the pain up into his face, magnifying the

pounding in his head.

I didn’t want you to think we were—together.

Dane had played him perfectly, acted out his part so fucking well that Angel hadn’t caught on

until the man himself exposed the charade. All his lovely words—You are so beautiful, Angel —were

just part of his ploy to fool him. And it had worked. It had worked so fucking perfectly that Angel had

dumped his whole heart into it—into him—without reservation, without taking a step back to

consider how a man like that could even care for him at all. He’d just taken the leap, jumped without

concern as to where he might land—or how fucking hard he would hit down.

He didn’t know when he began crying openly, hard sobs breaking up his throat, but the sound of

his own pain suddenly burst in his ears when he stepped out of the main part of the club and entered

the narrow corridor that led past the dressing rooms. He fell against the wall, hugging his stomach,

half bent over. Other boys drifted in and out of the dressing rooms, some heading toward the stage,

others coming back from it.

I need to get out of sight. I can’t let them see me like this.

Angel slipped into the restroom and entered a stall, locking the door. He sat on the closed lid of

the toilet and drew up his feet, hugging his legs, face pressed into his knees as the sobs grew louder,

harder. His chest hurt, so did his stomach. He wanted to puke but couldn’t move. How was it that this

hurt so much more than all the physical trauma he’d been through in his life? Dane had wounded him

deeper, left him bleeding, without laying a violent finger on him.

He shoved his face harder against his knees, unable to suppress the loud cries breaking out of

him, his breath sticking, tears flowing. “God, make it stop, please make it stop.”

“Angel?” A single rap on the stall door was like a steel trap locking his cries, silencing him

instantly. He held his breath. “Angel, is that you?” Ricky. Angel didn’t answer, just held his breath,

praying he would suffocate. Another thump of knuckles, “Angel, what’s wrong?”

A strong bout of the shakes hit him. “Go away,” he choked quietly. “Just leave me alone.” He bit

his lip hard as more sobs escaped.

“Come on, man,” concern warmed Ricky’s voice. “Talk to me. I thought we were pals?”

Pals? Friends? What the fuck was a friend? He’d thought Dane was his friend, too. Why should

he trust Ricky’s sincerity any more than Dane’s? Why should he trust any of them? So they could all

fuck him and then dump him?

Anger simmered and he dragged his arm across his face, brow pinching in a fierce frown. He

dropped his feet to the floor and stood up then unlocked the stall door and shoved out past Ricky.

“We’re not,” he whispered brokenly, “so just leave me the fuck alone.” He left the restroom, found an

empty dressing room and changed into a G-string, then pulled on a pair of tight gold spandex pants

that clung to his ass cheeks and molded to his cock, leaving little to the imagination. He left his torso

bare and turned around, nearly colliding with Ricky.

“Angel, what’s wrong?” Ricky asked with more force. “What the hell happened?”

The tears refused to leave his eyes, but now they burned with rage as well as pain. “I should

have never come to this fucking place,” he said tightly, his throat hurting like hell, then he again

pushed past the guy and walked back out into the club in search of a customer who wanted to do more

than just watch.

* * *

Maxwell Raines left the club early that Friday night. Well, early by his clock—it was still this

side of midnight. His head wasn’t where it should be and he was afraid if he stayed much longer, he

might solicit a customer himself. He hadn’t realized how comforting and soothing Dane’s presence

had been until he was gone. He might still be a dancer at the club, but for Max’s purposes, he was

gone. Whatever had been holding him back from Angel had fallen away. And Max wouldn’t invite

him into his bed again, not as long as he was committed elsewhere. But that didn’t stop him from

missing the companionship Dane had provided—the understanding. It was as if the guy knew exactly

what he was going through, without having to be told the intricate details.

But, losing Dane as his intimate confidant had left an instant gaping hole in Max’s chest. For

most of his life he had kept his pain to himself, rarely letting it seep out into the open. It hadn’t

occurred to him how desperately he needed someone to talk to, someone to show it to, until Dane had

become that someone. And once the pain was out, exposed, it felt impossible to put back. Could he go

back to holding it all inside? Hiding it? Did he even want to?

He found Dane’s car parked at the curb in front of his house. The man slumped behind the wheel,

head on his arms. The last he knew, Dane had been off to give Angel dance lessons. Of course, that

was merely what they were calling it. Dane had invited Angel to his apartment; a lot more than

dancing would have taken place.

So why was he here?

Max rapped his knuckles against the glass of the driver’s side window. When Dane didn’t

immediately respond, he thought he might be asleep. He thumped the window again. Dane raised his

head slowly and leaned back. The light of the street lamps reflected against the young man’s wet face.

When he turned his head and looked at Max, despair that matched his own stared back at him.

* * *

Angel was well familiar with the I want to fuck you look, as opposed to the I just want to watch

and get my rocks off look. And within this crowd tonight, there were plenty of men looking for more

than a little ass shaking and cock rubbing. Angel mentally picked out a few promising candidates then

settled on the one who appeared the most horny. The more they craved the fuck, the more cash they

would shell out to get it.

The man was well dressed, as were most of the customers, but he sported no tie and the top few

buttons of his crisp white shirt were unfastened. He looked to be in his mid-thirties and was nicely fit.

His eyes had been following Angel since he had returned to the main club area. It had been deliberate

on Angel’s part to flirt with the other customers, rubbing his ass in their faces while casting discreet,

sexy glances at his main target, getting the man good and cocked. When he began to shift against the

bench seat of the booth, Angel knew he was nearly ready.

A slow streak of his thumb and index finger down his thin mustache told Angel he was preparing

to make a move. The current customer Angel was tantalizing began to groan as he swayed his tightly

clad ass in his face. But his eyes were on his prey, who was now tracing the pad of his index finger

slowly back and forth across his lower lip, eyes heavy as he watched Angel’s every movement. His

finger slipped between his lips, deep into his mouth, then began to very slowly stroke in and out, his

stare locked with Angel’s eyes.

A smooth, sensual smile curved Angel’s lips and his customer swore “What the fuck?” when

Angel walked away without a word and approached the target’s table. Every thought, every neuron,

was focused on this one man—the pain of Dane’s betrayal shoved down as far it would go. He let the

anger and bitterness override the hurt, and used it to fuel his prowess. It was so much easier, he was

finding out quite suddenly, to solicit sex when he just didn’t give a fuck about anything. Perhaps there

would even be some level of pleasure in knowing he was the one in control, setting the terms, rather

than having them thrust at him against his will. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, fucking clean, rich guys.

* * *

Gabe winked at Cole and walked off with his catch. Cole chuckled and shook his head. “That

boy,” he mused to Carl. “They all want a piece of him.”

“Ah, but they don’t get it, now do they?” Carl raised an eyebrow.

“Oh fuck no,” Cole smirked. “I would be busting heads. Upper and lower ones,” he grinned.

Carl laughed and nodded. “That’s what I thought.”

“Cole?”

Twisting on the bar stool, Cole smiled as Ricky leaned against the bar. “Hey, Ricky.” The kid

had an anxious look on his face as his eyes darted around the club. “Something wrong?”

He nodded slowly. “It’s Angel.”

Cole frowned. “What about him?”

Shifting, Ricky told him, “I saw him in the restroom. He was,” he swallowed thickly, “he was

crying and really upset. But he wouldn’t talk to me, told me we weren’t friends, and he said he should

have never come here.”

What the hell? Cole licked his lips slowly. “I didn’t even know he was here. I thought he was

with Dane.”

Ricky shrugged, “So did I.”

“Where is he now?”

“He walked out on me,” Ricky said. “But he should be out here somewhere. He got dressed for

the floor.”

Cole stood up, his eyes narrowing as he tried to sift through the sea of bodies, flashing stage

lights and smoke. If the boy were out there, he was lost in the horde.

* * *

Angel slid into the booth and pressed up close to the man who stretched an arm across the high

back of the booth seat. His lips twisted, though he said nothing, as Angel slipped his knee over the

man’s thigh and nudged his hard crotch. Angel ran his fingers through the man’s short hair and shifted

so he was sitting on his solid thigh. The guy’s hands went to Angel’s ass, squeezing hard.

“You know,” Angel murmured, brushing his lips across the man’s cheek and then his lips, “some

fairies can grant wishes.” He ground his crotch into the man’s leg and continues to stroke through his

hair, teasing him with the promise of a kiss. “What’s your wish?”

Keeping his cool, the guy slipped his fingers further under Angel’s ass and fingered his balls

through his tight pants. “I wish for you to come out to my limo,” he murmured, his voice pleasantly

deep, masculine, “and let me fuck this tight little ass of yours.”

“A simple wish,” Angel smiled.

“I’m a simple man.”

“How much are you offering?” Angel let his lips touch down on the man’s mouth lightly, his

tongue darting out and sliding across the guy’s lower lip. “Make it worth my time, and your wish will

be granted.”

A suave smile curving his lips, the man leaned up and whispered in his ear. Angel smiled and

slid off his leg and scooted out of the booth then held out his hand invitingly. “Shall we?”

Chapter Two

Fallen Angel

A powerful sense of reverse déjà vu hit Max when he and Dane walked into his house. The last

time they had entered together, it had been Max who had been in a state of despair. He didn’t bother

stopping at the kitchen, or asking Dane if he wanted something to drink, but rather walked him straight

to the bedroom where Dane dropped on the bed, rolled onto his side in a near fetal position and

broke.

Max lay down with him, returning the comfort the man had given him so recently. Dane’s arms

went around him, his face shoved against Max’s neck while sobs rolled up his throat, breaking forth

in low, shattered cries. Only a broken heart could reduce a man of strength to a child once more,

vulnerable and frightened.

“It’s going to be okay,” Max whispered and kissed his head, stroking his fingers softly through

his hair. He didn’t ask what had happened. If Dane chose to tell him, then it would be at his sole

discretion. He’d allowed Max to keep his secret and didn’t push for details. Max would afford him

no less.

“I can’t go back,” Dane choked, “I can’t be where he’s at.”

Max’s pulse staggered. “Can’t go back where?” he murmured fearfully.

Trembling against Max’s body, Dane whispered, “The Phoenix.”

Max tightened his arms around him. “You can’t leave the club.” It wasn’t an order, but a plea.

“I can’t be there with him.” Dane rolled out of Max’s embrace, turning his back to him and

buried his face in the pillow, shaking with sobs.

“Who?” But Max knew exactly who he was speaking of. Still he asked quietly, “Angel?” The

very name, put out audibly seemed to cause a deep anguish in the already shattered man. Max touched

his shoulder then kissed the back of his head. “Why?” It seemed the only logical thing to ask, but he

wouldn’t push.

Dane didn’t answer and Max withdrew, leaving the bed. He walked around to Dane’s side and

slipped off the man’s shoes. “Come on,” he murmured and touched Dane’s arm gently. “Get in bed

and rest. We can discuss the club tomorrow.”

Clearing his throat, Dane crawled off the bed so Max could pull back the blankets, then shed his

pants and shirt and lay back down in only his shorts. Max covered him, and Dane drew the blankets

up around his face and ducked his head into them. Max leaned down and kissed his head again. “I’m

going to take a quick shower, and then I’ll be right back. Just try to rest, okay, babe?”

Dane’s breath shuddered but he gave no response otherwise. Max walked to the bedroom

doorway, paused and looked back at Dane. The man appeared more broken than Max himself.

And that wasn’t good.

* * *

The customer’s hand rested on Angel’s ass as they walked toward the back of the club to a

private booth. Cole watched them from a distance, and with the constant influx of bodies passing in

front of him, he couldn’t detect the boy’s state of mind. Though he didn’t seem as upset as Ricky had

described him.

“He seems fine,” Cole murmured then looked at Ricky as the two disappeared inside a booth.

Ricky shook his head, face troubled. “He isn’t fine,” he insisted. “You didn’t see him, Cole. He

was a mess. He wasn’t just crying; he was breaking down.” Anxiety pinched his face. “I think

something might have happened between him and Dane—something bad.”

Frowning, Cole rubbed his mouth slowly. Dane would have done nothing to hurt Angel. Not

deliberately so, anyway. He was crazy about the boy. But what could have put him in such a state of

distress?

“I’ll talk to him after work,” Cole said. “Find out what’s going on.”

“Good. Thank you,” Ricky said quietly. “He wouldn’t talk to me.”

Cole squeezed his shoulder. “We’ll figure it out.” But for the life of him he couldn’t fathom what

had gone wrong between Angel and Dane.

* * *

The customer introduced himself as Lex—not shortened from Alex or Alexander—just Lex. And

right now, Lex was slightly put out. “I said my limo.”

Angel closed the heavy curtain across the doorway of the booth. “We have to be discreet,” Angel

murmured and smiled at him. “We’re not allowed to solicit customers for sex.” He flattened his hands

on Lex’s chest and pushed with just enough force to drop him into the armless leather chair then

crawled onto his lap. “I know a nice guy like you wouldn’t want me to lose my job, now would you?”

He raked his teeth down the guy’s neck.

“Not at all,” Lex moaned and pushed his crotch up against Angel’s, grabbing his ass. “But the

amount I offered isn’t for some mere groping.”

“Understood,” Angel breathed against his ear then slithered his tongue inside, stabbing it gently.

He rocked his hips slowly on the man’s sizable bulge. “But we must keep up appearances. There are

watchful eyes in the club.”

Lex groaned and shoved his hands down inside the back of Angel’s pants, groping his ass. “I

would just fuck you right here,” he panted with a smile. “But I tend to get a bit—vocal. And even the

noise in this place wouldn’t drown me out.”

Angel slid his fingers through the man’s hair and dragged his lips straight down the center of his

face, over the tip of his nose to his mouth which was partially open, offering a glimpse of his pearly

whites. Angel flicked his tongue against his front teeth. “I love a man who isn’t too shy to scream.”

Lex’s tongue snaked out and played with Angel’s as his fingers rubbed down the crease of

Angel’s ass and toyed with his puckered ring. He pushed a fingertip inside and smiled. “You’re tight.

I have a big cock. Think your tiny little ass can handle me?”

Moaning, Angel put pressure against the man’s finger, driving it in a little deeper. “I’m sure I can

adapt.” This is what they liked; the seduction, the teasing. At least Dane had told the truth about that.

His eyes started to burn and he slammed the door on thoughts of Dane, returning full attention to Lex,

and his probing finger that had begun to slip in and out of Angel’s tight ass. “Mmmm,” Angel moaned

softly and rode his digit as it burrowed deeper. “I can appreciate a man who knows how to use his

hands—every part of them.”

Withdrawing one hand from the back of his pants, leaving his finger intact, Lex worked his free

hand down inside the front of Angel’s pants—which wasn’t an easy feat considering the tightness of

the fabric. But that didn’t stop him, and he managed to get in, his fingers working under the band of the

G-string. Angel gasped then released a pronounced moan when Lex began to rub his bare cock.

“Nice,” Angel panted softly, only half faking. Fuck. The guy had great hands, what could he say?

He shoved his dick into his palm and worked with him. “Yes, oh Lex—you make it feel so good.”

Angel knew enough about jacked up men to know they loved to have not just their cocks stroked, but

their egos as well.

Lex nipped at his throat and worked at him from both ends until Angel was moaning louder and

rocking more fervently in his lap. “Let’s go to the limo now,” Lex groaned, his crotch granite beneath

Angel. “I can’t wait any longer. I want to fuck you now.”

* * *

Dane was lost in a dark fog somewhere between sleep and consciousness when Max came back

to the bed and slid under the blankets. He was nude, but there was no expectation in his touch when

he rolled over and kissed Dane’s shoulder. Just comfort. Dane took his hand and pulled his arm

around him, drawing max’s body up close behind him. His skin was warm from the recent shower and

smelled of soap.

“Thank you for letting me stay,” Dane whispered thickly. His throat felt full of gravel, raw and

scratched from crying. “I can’t go home, not tonight.” Angel’s presence would still be hovering.

Dane’s bed barely cooled from their heated love making. He couldn’t face that, not in the dark of

night. Perhaps come morning, in the stark light of day, it wouldn’t be as daunting.

“You’re always welcome here.” Max kissed the back of his neck, his arm squeezing with

affection. Dane felt safe inside his embrace but understood that, to some degree, it was an illusion.

The pain couldn’t be held at bay, not indefinitely.

Dane snuggled his ass cheeks comfortably into the warm depression of Max’s crotch that curved

around him. Max hardened instinctively, just a natural reaction. He didn’t expect Dane to fuck him

tonight. But Dane was going to.

A warm, shaky breath puffed off Max’s lips as Dane slowly shifted his ass until the man’s

stiffening erection was pressing between his cheeks. They lay like that for a little while, Dane softly

rocking his rump against Max’s cock, getting him harder, causing him to excrete warm juice that

dribbled into Dane’s crack and slicked his hole.

Max’s breath was coming more quickly, warm against the back of Dane’s head. His palm

flattened to Dane’s hard, tense stomach, fingertips indenting his ab muscles. Max’s arousal grew

stiffer, longer, the head swelling, tightening to a firm bulb that rubbed Dane’s entrance, lubricating it

with cum juice.

A steady groan pushed up Dane’s throat and he laid his head back on Max’s shoulder as the man

kissed the side of his neck. “I want you, Max,” Dane trembled, his voice still raw with emotion, wet

with tears. He moved Max’s hand lower and wrapped it around his pulsing erection. Max didn’t

resist and took hold of him, stroking slowly, gently, lovingly. “ Yes,” Dane shuddered, eyes closing

half way. Please, just take me away—make the hurt go away for just a little while—it’s too much.

Dane stuffed himself onto Max’s cock, rocking his hips in tiny circles, taking the man in deeper

and deeper.

“Fuck,” Max gasped softly and pushed forward. His leg slid up over Dane’s hip as he shifted

slightly, sinking his shaft even deeper, finding that little patch of heaven inside Dane’s body and

carrying him away to paradise.

* * *

Angel sent Lex out first, alone, giving the impression that he’d gotten what he’d come for and

was finished. The man left the club to wait for Angel in his limousine. Of course, he didn’t pay Angel

the money up front, he wasn’t a fool. The agreement was that once Angel was inside the car, then the

cash would be paid. Angel realized that he himself was taking a risk; what would stop the man from

raping him and kicking him out without paying a cent? But first of all, he had no choice. And second,

he didn’t get that vibe from Lex—that he might be scamming him.

He waited a few minutes, giving Lex enough time to get out of the club and to his car, so that it

wouldn’t appear that Angel was following him out, should anyone see him leave. When he figured the

man had been gone long enough, Angel left the booth. He didn’t go straight for the door, but took his

time flirting with customers in passing, on the discreet lookout for Cole or Gabe, who were the most

likely to take notice of his departure. They were nowhere to be seen.

Gradually working his way toward the entrance, Angel gasped when a strong hand suddenly

grabbed his arm. “Come with me. We need to talk.” Cole appeared out of thin air it seemed, and was

now ushering him away from the club entrance, back toward Max’s office.

Chapter Three

No Place for Repentance

Beyond the ecstasy of being buried to the hilt inside Dane, Max could feel his pain; in his cries

of sexual pleasure, the fierce, desperate grip of his hands, the urgency in which he fucked Max. He

was on the run from whatever agony it was that pursued him, and it heightened his libido, his hunger

and need to blast his mind clean and bare of all thoughts.

Dane was on top of him, riding him wildly, panting, puffing, bouncing on his cock and bouncing

them both on the bed. Then he was behind him, hammering Max’s ass, drilling so deep and hard that

Max’s stiff-as-a-board dick—untouched by hands—began to squirt cum as his orgasm broke so

suddenly he screamed. But still Dane was holding, going strong, squeezing Max’s hips and pulling

him back on him again and again, pounding, grunting—and crying.

Tears streaked Max’s face as well, the man’s anguish swelling thickly in the air of the dark

bedroom. Dane was hurting like hell, and Max knew that as soon as he released, ridding his body of

the pent up tension, he would crash and burn, his heart exploding along with his orgasm.

But a man could fuck only so long before he inevitably shot his wad. And Dane was right there—

when he suddenly pulled out and dropped down on the bed, cock rigid and leaking droplets of the

creamy white substance he’d been seconds from excreting. His arm wrapped across his eyes and he

cried, holding the orgasm in, surely in pure sexual agony. But Max understood—any pain was more

bearable than the pain that permeated the heart.

He slid his arms around Dane and hugged him. Refusing to come wasn’t easing his anguish and,

in some ways, seemed to be enforcing it. Max kissed him and curved his hand around his pulsing

erection and began to pump him. When Dane choked on a rush of sobs and protested, Max kissed him

again, more deeply, and continued to stroke until the guy was screaming and writhing, geysers of cum

spurting in the air.

“Easy, baby,” Max murmured, soothing, his hand slowing but still sliding up and down Dane’s

shaft. Dane was shaking, eyes squeezed shut, face tight as remnants of the orgasm still gripped him.

“Relax.”

When the man’s rapid breathing began to calm a little, his body finally starting to sag down

against the bed, Max released his member and rubbed his hand up his stomach and across his chest.

“I can’t be forgiven,” Dane choked on an anguished cry. “I hurt him so bad.” He rolled onto his

side and clung to Max. “I deserve to burn in hell.”

* * *

The office door closed and Cole faced the boy as Angel moved toward Max’s desk, away from

Cole. “What do you want?” Angel mumbled, brow pinched. Up close, Cole saw what Ricky had been

talking about; Angel wasn’t okay. It was in his damp eyes, the tightness in his face, the way he

carefully avoided Cole’s stare.

“What’s wrong, Angel?” Cole asked, but when he stepped toward him, the boy moved away.

“Ricky said he found you in the restroom crying. What happened?” He slid his fingers through his hair

then gripped the back of his neck as he stared at the young man. “Why did you tell Ricky that you and

he weren’t friends? You know he’s your friend. We all are. Why would you wish you had never come

here?”

Angel shook his head, eyes on the floor and hard with repressed emotion. “It doesn’t matter.” He

stepped toward the door. “I need to get back to work.” Cole blocked his path. Angel’s hands flexed at

his side, body tense. “Just let me go, Cole.” Strong tears thickened his voice, but still he wouldn’t

look at him.

“Not until you tell me what’s going on.”

Angel’s head jerked up and tears swam in his lovely eyes now so full of pain it instantly ripped a

hole through Cole’s heart. “It’s none of your business, okay? Just leave me alone.”

“Angel,” Cole frowned, lips tight. “Did something happen between you and Dane?”

The boy trembled at the other man’s name and the hurt in his eyes intensified, pushing the tears

out. “I told you, it’s none of your fucking business!” He tried to push past Cole to get to the door but

Cole grabbed him.

“What happened?”

Angel shoved away from him, stepping back unsteadily. “Why should I tell you?” he cried.

“What the fuck do you care?”

“I’m your friend, Angel. I do care.”

“No you’re not!” Angel choked. “None of you are!”

“That isn’t true,” Cole spoke low, troubled. “Why would you think that?” Where the hell was

this coming from all of the sudden?

“You just want me to think that!” Angel’s voice rose, cracked with emotion. “You just want me

to trust you and think you give a damn—so you can fuck me and dump me like he did!”

“Whoa!” Cole grabbed him again. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Let me go!” Angel struggled against his grip but Cole refused to release him.

“No!” Cole’s stomach twisted with dread; what the fuck was going on? “Who are you talking

about, Angel? Dane?” He shook his head, disbelieving. “Dane wouldn’t do that.”

“He did!” Angel cried and ripped lose. “He just wanted to fuck me! Like everyone else! He just

pretended to care about me! Just like you’re pretending!” He was out the door and gone before Cole

could recover from the shock of his words.

* * *

Angel made a straight shot for the club entrance, not giving a fuck who saw him leave this time.

Please still be there. Had Lex gotten tired of waiting and left? Angel needed that fucking money, and

Lex was offering a shit load. If he went home tonight with less than a thousand dollars, Wade would

be pissed, accuse him of screwing around with the customers who only wanted to watch.

He wiped at his face with his arm, his bare skin chilling a little when he stepped out into the

night. His chest hurt and he wanted to scream, punch the side of the building, but he just walked on,

searching for the limo. Lex had said he was parked at the far end of the club. When he spotted the car,

his stride picked up in anticipation of Cole following him, stopping him.

The man didn’t show up though, and Angel reached the limo uninterrupted. Lex must have

noticed him approaching because the rear door opened from the inside, an unspoken invitation for him

enter. He climbed in without hesitation and Lex closed the door.

The interior was spacious, with plenty of room to maneuver. Angel had never been in a limo

before, hadn’t expected to ever set foot in one. This was a much nicer place to fuck than the dingy

back rooms of the seedy clubs Wade had taken him to time and again. And Lex in no way resembled

the scummy men who had had their grimy hands all over him, engorged cocks stuffed in his ass and

mouth. Few of them had been fit, and they stank of sweat, liquor and stale smoke. When they fucked

him, it had seemed more that he was being fucked by filthy animals, some of them reminding him

literally of sweaty hogs.

But this was nice. Maybe even something he could get used to. If all went well, perhaps he could

quit the club and become an escort for wealthy men. There was nothing keeping him here anymore—

except for the money. But if he could make as good, or even better, wages elsewhere, he would leave

in a heartbeat. He didn’t want to be here where the guys played their parts so well in convincing him

he was cared about and wanted. If he stayed too long, he might fall into the same trap with someone

else that he’d fallen into with Dane. Even now, Cole’s act was believable, and he had to fight to

remind himself the guy wasn’t sincere, that he didn’t really give a fuck.

“I thought perhaps you had changed your mind.” Lex rubbed his hand down Angel’s thigh then

back up to squeeze his crotch.

“Just momentarily delayed.” Angel returned to the role of seductive dancer and crawled into the

man’s lap, fingers plucking open Lex’s shirt. He pushed the garment aside and rubbed his hands over

his chest and kissed his neck, licking down the center crevice between his nicely developed pectoral

muscles.

Lex sucked in a deep breath and exhaled slowly, his hands again on Angel’s ass, shoving down

the back of his pants. “Take these off,” he groaned, “but leave the G-string.”

Sliding off his lap, Angel dispensed with the spandex pants, as Lex pulled him back onto his lap

and cupped his bare ass cheeks. Angel rocked and rolled his hips slowly, sensually, grinding against

the man’s hard cock. He dipped down and grabbed a stiff nipple with his teeth, ground it gently,

causing Lex to gasp and squeeze his ass more forcefully. Angel sucked the nub between his lips,

teasing with his tongue.

“Mmm.” Lex moaned and began to run a fingertip back and forth through the crease of Angel’s

ass, rubbing down through the crack firmly, probing his hole. He brought his hand up and slipped his

index finger into Angel’s mouth. “Get it good and wet,” he panted softly.

Angel sucked his digit deep into his mouth, his tongue pulling against it. He moaned and Lex

smiled as he slowly withdrew it from between his tight, sucking lips. Then his hand was down on

Angel’s ass again, his wet finger pushing through his ring.

“Uuuhhmm.” Angel arched his back a little and shoved against his finger until the entire length

was inside him, seeking out his magic spot. “Yes...”

Lex twisted a second finger inside then worked him until Angel’s erection strained against the

crotch of the G-string underwear. A smile on his face, Lex looked down at his bulging package.

“Feeling good, is it?”

“Mmm,” was all Angel offered as he fucked the man’s fingers slowly, rising and lowering with a

steady rhythm.

Laying Angel down on the floor, Lex stripped off the G-string, then took Angel’s stiff cock in his

mouth, pushing down on him until the head squeezed into his tight throat canal.

“Fuck!” Angel’s hips thrust on reflex, eyes clamping shut as the man began to give him a mind

shattering blow job. For a brief moment he was back in Dane’s apartment, his bed, Dane’s mouth

sucking him to heaven and back. But the moment wasn’t brief enough, and all the sensations and

emotions from earlier that night began to rush back in on him. He squeezed his eyes tighter. No! Just

go away! Leave me the fuck alone!

He opened his eyes and blinked back the tears then looked down at Lex. If he didn’t close his

eyes, maybe he could stay in the here and now. He focused on his customer, who was turning out to be

rather pleasant. He sure as hell was skilled with hands and mouth, and didn’t mind giving as well as

receiving. Angel squeezed the man’s head beneath his fingertips and pumped his cock into his mouth.

“Oh fuck, yes, oh god, Lex, you suck cock so beautifully.”

Lex stroked his hot, tight mouth up and down Angel’s rigid shaft until he was sure he would

blow, then backed off him. He rose up on his knees and peeled off his shirt then unfastened his pants.

Angel panted, his naked body pressed against the soft carpet of the limo floor, and watched the man

slowly unzip then shove down the front of his expensive slacks, releasing his erection. He hadn’t lied;

Lex had a big cock. In its erect state, it curved nicely upward, thick veins pulsing with blood, the skin

stretched taut around his very thick shaft. The head was fully mushroomed and reminded Angel of

polished cherry wood. Pearl drops of cum juice formed at the tip and dripped onto the carpet.

Not needing to be instructed, Angel crawled forward and wrapped his hand around the man’s

sizable member and began to lick all over it, moaning, telling him how good he tasted. When he took

the guy in his mouth, he had to work to accommodate him but got enough in to satisfy Lex, who shoved

his hands through Angel’s hair, twisted the strands into knots around his fingers, and began to slide

his magnum sized cock in and out of Angel’s tight mouth.

Chapter Four

Wages of Sin

“So what happened?” Seth laid stretched out on his stomach on the bed, head at the end,

thumbing absently through a magazine. He didn’t have a stitch of clothes on and Horatio sat with his

back against the wall admiring the view as the boy’s legs moved absently, sometimes close together

as his ankles crossed, and then spreading a little as they shifted around on the bed, bending,

straightening, causing his ass muscles to tighten and relax. Now and then he would flex his ass cheeks

or shift his hips. All of it affording Horatio a lovely peek at his most intimate areas.

“What do you mean?” Horatio murmured, eyes glued to the boy’s firm back side as his hips lifted

slightly and his cheeks opened enough that Horatio caught a glimpse of his puckered hole, slightly

reddish around the ring from their recent heated fuck session. His ass cheeks retained a faint blush

from Horatio’s pounding as well. But Seth liked it hard and begged for it every time. Horatio saw no

need to deny the guy.

His freedom with his body, so comfortable with his nudity, only enhanced his comparison to

Max. Horatio and Max were rarely ever clothed when they were alone together. In fact, Max was the

one who had gotten Horatio comfortable with parading around naked. Dancing nude—that had been

Max’s favorite thing; their bare bodies swaying together, giving each other hard-ons as they bumped

crotches, rubbed, gyrated. It had been their game to see who could be the most seductive, and

whichever one shot his wad during the dance lost, and had to blow the other. Of course, it was really

a win-win thing.

A faint smile twitched his lips and his eyes grew heavy with the distant memory. God, baby, I

miss you so fucking much. He licked his lips and swallowed hard, pushing the memory away as Seth

shifted on the bed. “What happened with you and this guy I remind you of?” He was still thumbing

through the magazine, not looking at Horatio. His ass cheeks flexed again and Horatio had the urge to

squeeze them, bite the firm flesh. Fuck, even his ass looked like Max’s.

Horatio cleared his throat. “It’s—complicated.”

Nodding slowly, Seth replied, “AKA none of my business. Gotcha.” He flipped another page.

“What was his name? If it’s okay to ask.”

“Max,” Horatio murmured.

“Max,” Seth tasted the name, and then nodded again. “I like it. It reminds me of a simple man, but

very strong-willed.”

Horatio chuckled softly. “You have no idea.”

Seth closed the magazine and set it down on the carpet then twisted onto his back, giving Horatio

a full, open view of his goods. He lifted the leg closest to Horatio and rubbed his foot against

Horatio’s chest then traced his big toe through the grooves of his muscles. His arms tucked behind his

head as he gazed at him with wanton eyes, a smirk twitching the corner of his mouth as he dragged his

toes down the center of Horatio’s abdomen then massaged his stiff member with the sole of his foot

through the silk sheet that covered his nakedness. Horatio groaned and rubbed his hand along the top

of his foot, lifting his hips.

“I can’t imagine any man willingly letting you go.” Seth smiled. “Surely it was your choice.”

My choice. Horatio stared at the young man. “No,” he whispered, “he left me.” He couldn’t keep

the pain out of his voice and Seth wasn’t deaf to it.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly and sat forward then drew the sheet down Horatio’s legs and moved

onto his lap. Horatio’s pulse kicked up a few notches as Seth stroked his ass against the underbelly of

his cock. “If you want,” he combed his fingers through Horatio’s hair with slow strokes and dropped

kisses all across his face before seeking out his mouth, “you can call me Max—and pretend I’m him.”

He kissed him softly, warmly. “I won’t be offended.”

* * *

Angel gripped the edge of the seat, fingers digging into the fine leather as Lex positioned himself

on his knees behind him and slid his thick cock through the crease of his ass a few times before

drawing back and fitting a magnum-sized condom on himself and coating his member with lube. His

greased up fingers rubbed around Angel’s hole and inside, then he grabbed his narrow hips, pushed

the tip of his cock against Angel’s entrance and pulled him back onto his huge erection slowly.

“Fuck,” Angel gasped sharply and gripped the seat harder as the man spread him open wider

than he’d ever been. “Oh my god.” A shudder swept through him and there was a measure of pain as

his inner anal sleeve stretched to accommodate him. “Uuh!” His back arched and Lex squeezed his

hips tighter and continued to slowly impale him.

“Holy fuck,” Lex panted stiffly. “Oh shit, baby, your ass is so tiny and tight. Fuck. I hope I don’t

break you in half.”

Angel couldn’t speak, his throat constricted, air gone, as if the guy’s cock itself was pushing it

from his lungs. He bit his lip and his eyes watered as Lex’s circumference seemed to grow thicker the

closer the base of the shaft came to entering him. That last final thrust that buried him all the way in

wrenched a loud cry from Angel and cleared his throat to suck in a sharp breath.

Chuckling low, Lex groaned, “I told you I had a big cock. Was I lying?”

Shaking his head, Angel whimpered as his body tried to adjust. “No,” he trembled.

“Are you sorry you accepted my offer?” Lex wondered with amusement as he very slowly

circled his hips, pulling more gasps from Angel.

Angel thought about it for a moment, and then whispered unsteadily, “No.”

“Mmm,” Lex mused and pulled his cock out a couple of inches. Angel’s tight hole stretched taut

around the hard, thick rod, clinging to and sucking the man’s flesh. “Fuuck,” Lex moaned. “God, it

feels so good when a tight little ass grabs my cock like that.” He pushed back in and Angel

whimpered again. Lex leaned against him, applying pressure to his ass, forcing his dick in a little

deeper.

“Uuh!” Angel wailed, back arched more fiercely.

Soft pants puffed out of Lex as he gave Angel a few extremely short punches, stimulating his

prostate. The plump, firm cock head raked his sweet spot, stabbing it relentlessly until Angel was

clawing the seat and squirming, crying out. The discomfort of the man’s size began to abate as the

intense pleasure he ignited became his prime focus. When Angel moved his hips and began to rock

somewhat on Lex’s immense log, the man chuckled. “There we go. Feeling good now?”

“Uuuuh huuuh, Angel moaned loudly and pushed back with a bit more force, still immobilized

somewhat by the length and thickness, but doing his best to participate.

Lex pulled out until just the bulbous crown remained inside Angel’s ass then pushed back in all

the way. Not too hard or fast, but with more force than the first time.

“Fuck!” Angel gasped. “Yes! God!”

The next time, Lex pulled out completely then thrust back in with one shot. Angel screamed,

though not in pain but rather blinding ecstasy. Fuck, the guy hit spots he didn’t know he had.

Lex grunted, panted, pulled back again and gave him another thrust. Angel’s cock turned to

instant granite, a sudden stream of cum juice dribbling from the head, smearing the front of the seat,

causing his member to slip wetly against the leather with each pounding of Lex’s dick. Soon, his hips

were shoved up firmly against the seat as Lex fucked him harder, scooting him forward. Angel’s cock

was caught between his lower stomach and the wet, slippery leather seat, stroking rhythmically as

Lex pumped him harder, faster with his monstrous dick.

“Oh god! Oh god!” Angel cried, panting erratically, his orgasm swelling fast. “Fuck me! Uuh!

Fuck! Fuck me harder!” He was startled by his request, certain if the man fucked him any harder he

might actually break him in half, but good god, Lex’s cock was feeling like heaven now.

“Yes!” Lex yelled and pounded his ass. “Fuck! Take it! Shit! Take it in your tight ass! Fuck this

big dick! Give me that ass, baby!” Lex’s voice rose until he was shouting and fucking Angel like a

mad man, rocking the limo. “Uh! Fuck! Oh god! You have the tightest little ass! On my god, my cock

loves this sweet ass!”

Angel’s head was spinning, his mind fogging. If he wanted his thoughts eradicated, he sure as

hell picked the right customer to blast them out. He couldn’t think at all, Lex’s hard fucking clearing

his mind out. “Oh fuck!” Angel cried. “I’m gonna come! Oh god! Oh fuck, uuhh, oh fuck—fuck!”

Lex slammed him harder, deeper, shouting and swearing, telling Angel to give it to him.

Screaming out, Angel came all over the leather seat, his body convulsing with an orgasm more

powerful than any he’d ever experienced; as if in total control of when he shot his load. Lex came as

soon as Angel spilled himself, a strangled wail tearing out of the man. He pumped Angel’s ass

furiously, tight grunts and groans squeezing past his clenched teeth and hissing free. His fingers

bruised Angel’s hips, clutching so hard. And when his orgasm released him, it did so all at once and

he pulled out, dropping back on the carpeted floor, his back thumping against the front of the other

seat.

“Holy shit and fuck!” he panted hard, wiping his sweaty face. “I haven’t come that hard in a long

while. Fuck.”

I haven’t ever come that hard, Angel thought, sagging down in front of the seat, body shaking.

Lex gazed at him and chuckled softly. “So, has my big cock spoiled you for all others now?”

Moaning, Angel grinned, eyes heavy. “I think...” he puffed as his head dropped back on the seat

and he laughed low, “...maybe so.”

Another chuckle vibrated the man’s chest and he dug out a leather billfold from his discarded

jacket and opened it up to reveal a thick wad of cash. He began to pluck out one bill at a time,

dropping them in a neat pile on the limo floor. Every bill was a hundred and Lex wasn’t cheap with

his payout, dropping a few extra beyond what they had agreed upon.

Lex grinned at Angel. “That ass deserves a fucking bonus.” He slid the pile of cash over to

Angel. “So what’re the chances you’ll let me back in your sweet ass again sometime?”

Scooping up the money, Angel thumbed through the bills—not counting them, just marveling at

the amount. He smiled, “Oh I think the odds are in your favor.”

What Lex had just paid him, left ample room for skimming while still supplying Wade with the

expected take-home quota.

Chapter Five

Reap What You Sow

“There has to be some mistake,” Gabe said, “some miscommunication going on between them.”

Cole dragged his hand down over his face and leaned his back against the bar. “How do you

misinterpret being dumped?”

“I don’t know, but,” Gabe shook his head. “Fuck, this is Dane we’re talking about, man.”

“I know.” Cole exhaled and turned around, resting his elbows on the bar top. “And I love the

guy. But face it, in all the time we’ve known him, have you ever seen him in a committed

relationship? Or even date seriously? He’s always shied away from that kind of involvement.”

Rubbing his eyes, Gabe tipped his beer bottle to his lips, downing a drink. “I don’t care. He

wouldn’t fuck Angel and then just toss him aside.”

“Well something fucking happened,” Cole insisted. “Angel is a fucking mess, and now he thinks

none of us are sincere about being his friends.”

“Is Angel here?”

Cole turned again and scoured the club, but there was too much activity, too many bodies to sift

through. “He was. But he was angry and upset when he walked out on me. So,” he shrugged, “for all I

know, he may have left.”

“He did.”

Both men glanced around at Carl who set fresh drinks in front of them. “When he came out of

Max’s office, he went out the front. I didn’t see him come back.”

“Shit,” Cole groaned. “And I don’t even know where he lives. We’ll just have to hope he hasn’t

taken off for good, and that he comes back.” He took a drink of the fresh cold beer. “Tomorrow,” he

murmured tightly, “I’m gonna have a long talk with our buddy Dane. Find out what in the hell he did

to fuck Angel up so bad.”

* * *

Dane lay awake, staring at the dark ceiling of the bedroom long after Max had dropped off from

their physical exertion. He turned his head and watched Max sleep. Was he dreaming of a life with

Horatio Kaplan? Dane didn’t know the details of their dilemma, but he did understand that the only

place Max felt free to love Kaplan was within his dreams.

And now that’s all I have as well . He shifted his gaze back to the ceiling, eyes stinging as an

ache wound through his face and jaw then down his neck. He’d broken Angel’s heart—and not just in

half. It had been ground to dust. But he’d had no choice. He couldn’t be with him, not now, not after...

Dane squeezed his eyes shut and warm tears slid down his temples. He wanted to cling to his

recent memories of Angel, their love making, but he had no right to those memories. He had no right

to Angel at all.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he choked softly and covered his eyes with his hand, his body shaking with

quiet sobs. “I can’t undo what I’ve done.” He rolled onto his side, his back to Max, and buried his

face in his pillow.

On the bed next to him, Max shifted then rubbed his hand over Dane’s waist and around to flatten

against his stomach, his warm body pressing up against Dane’s back. He kissed his shoulder.

“Whenever you’re ready to talk about it,” Max murmured softly, sleep thick in his voice. “I’m ready

to listen. Anything you say to me stays between us.”

Dane covered his hand and intertwined their fingers, squeezing tightly. He didn’t say anything but

pushed his back snuggly against the man’s chest and pulled Max’s arm more securely around him.

* * *

“So how’d our little boy toy do tonight?” Wade smirked, elbows on the table as he leaned over,

a tiny rolled paper tube stuffed in his nostril as he snorted a line of white powder. Angel stood frozen

in the kitchen doorway, staring at him. Next to Wade, Byrd had his own “straw” and used a flat razor

blade to make another line, sniffed it up the mini paper pipe, then sat back, sniffed again and wiped

his nose with finger and thumb. Then he grinned at Angel.

“Wanna do a line?” He held out the makeshift tube.

Angel’s heart pounded; they were doing real drugs now? Up to this point, Wade and Axel had

only drunk booze and smoked pot. His eyes shifted to Axel who was rubbing his nose and looked

higher than he ever had, eyes heavy, barely held open, but a grin on his face.

“Yeah, baby.” Axel coughed then cleared his throat and wiped at his nose again. His nostrils

were a reddish hue with residue of the white powder clinging to the tiny hairs inside. “Take a snort.

Loosen up.”

Wade laughed and then chugged a beer and rubbed his nose once more.

“I know a better way to loosen him up,” Byrd drawled and his glazed eyes crawled all over

Angel’s body like cockroaches.

Axel snorted, a slur to his voice, “You’re such a fag, man.”

Rather than slap him in the head as before, Byrd chuckled and shrugged. “The boy’s got a fine

ass, what can I say?” His gaze settled heavily on Angel, his lips twitching. He smacked his thigh.

“Why don’t you come on over and take a seat right here on Uncle Byrd’s lap.”

“Fuck,” Axel snickered.

Wade looked at Angel and straightened in his chair, clearing his throat. “So? What do you got for

me tonight?”

They were using the money to buy hard drugs? Angel strongly suspected it was Byrd who had

turned them onto this shit, once they had the money to pay for it. Neither of his stepbrothers opposed

Byrd’s ideas.

Licking his lips slowly, Angel walked over and dropped a thick wad of cash on the table; most

of what Lex had paid him.

“Fuck.” Byrd grabbed the money and Angel didn’t miss the slight annoyance that skittered across

Wade’s face, but he said nothing as the man unfolded the money and flipped through the stack of bills.

A low whistle pushed out. Wade went to snatch the cash from his hand and Byrd jerked it back.

“Give me my fucking money,” Wade snapped and grabbed for it again.

Byrd shoved him back in his chair. “In a fuckin’ minute, I’m still looking.”

The hard look in Wade’s eyes warned he might make an issue of it. Normally he kowtowed to

Byrd—the man could clearly kick his ass—but tonight Wade was jacked up on whatever shit they’d

been snorting and may not be thinking clearly. “I said give me my fucking money.”

Byrd looked at him dryly then threw the bills onto the table. “Have a shit fit about it, why don’t

ya?” He grabbed his beer and chugged half the contents.

Ignoring him, Wade picked up the money and slowly thumbed through it. He was already over

his annoyance now that the cash was in his hands, and smiled. “Sweet.” He cocked an eyebrow at

Angel. “You keep this up and we’ll be best friends.”

Fuck you. Angel just looked at him dully. As soon as he’d crawled out of the limo, the pain of

everything had hit him again. He had contemplated just going straight home without setting foot back

inside the club, but all he had on were his skin tight spandex pants and the G-string underneath. He

didn’t want to walk into the apartment dressed like that if Byrd happened to be there. And now he

was thankful he had dressed in his regular clothes first before coming home. It hadn’t been easy

avoiding Cole’s detection and getting to the dressing room, then back out again, but he’d managed. He

hadn’t been up for any more of Cole’s interrogation tonight.

“Whatever,” Angel whispered and turned away, his body aching and exhausted from both his

time spent with Dane and, more recently, Lex. But even more wearing was the emotional stress and

trauma laid on him by Dane. He hoped Maddy was asleep because, despite his attempt to hold onto

the anger and bitterness, Angel knew that once his head hit his pillow, all of the hurt would flood

back over him and he would cry himself to sleep.

The bedroom was dark and quiet. “Maddy?” he whispered, but the boy didn’t answer or stir.

Glancing at the closed door, Angel walked softly to the corner of the room and took out the jar,

dropped in the small wad of bills he’d held back from Wade and replaced the glass container in its

hiding place.

He peeled off his shirt then unfastened his pants when the door opened, startling him. Byrd stood

in the doorway, silhouetted against the faint light stretching weakly down the hall from the kitchen.

Angel’s breath quickened, tears forming. “Please not tonight, Byrd,” he whispered thickly.

The man stepped in and closed the door, not too loudly. “No worries, baby,” he murmured, a

smirk in his voice. “I’ll be quick. Coke always gets me jacked up, puts me in the mood to fuck.”

Angel knew not to resist too much. He glanced at Maddy’s bed. “Please don’t wake up Maddy,”

he said quietly, throat constricting.

“No promises.” Byrd’s hands were on him, pushing him down on the mattress then groping at

Angel’s pants and dragging them off. “Sometimes I get loud when I’m really horny.”

The man shed his clothes then flipped Angel onto his stomach and, again, went at him with no

condom. Angel shoved his face into his pillow to muffle his cries as Byrd grunted and panted and

groaned on top of him, the mattress protesting, the old springs squeaking louder as Byrd’s sexual

hunger grew and he fucked him harder.

When Byrd shoved in with a final wrenching grunt and unloaded, he finally crawled off Angel,

sniffed and wiped his nose again then cleared his throat and dressed. He left the room without a

word.

Angel heard Maddy’s quiet, broken sobs as the boy huddled deeper into his sleeping bag,

covering his head; he was awake.

No, Angel tried to swallow his cries but they worked their way out. He hadn’t wanted Maddy to

ever see this or even hear it. Knowing it was happening to his big brother was bad enough; the kid

didn’t need a front row seat to the show.

* * *

Max and Dane returned to the club together, in the early morning hours while the place was still

closed. Max had asked Cole and Gabe to lock up for him last night before he’d left to go home.

“I should go clear out my stuff,” Dane said quietly, standing in the doorway of Max’s office. “I

don’t want to be here when...” he sighed and stared at the floor, hands clamped on his hips. He wasn’t

looking much better this morning than he had been last night. He had yet to tell Max what had

happened between him and Angel that was so awful he wanted to quit the club just so he didn’t have

to be near the boy.

“Dane.” Max walked over and drew him inside the office and closed the door. “I know you’re

hurting, but please don’t leave the club. If you need some time off, that isn’t a problem.” He rubbed

his mouth slowly, his chest tight. “But please don’t leave for good.”

Exhaling low, Dane sat down on the sofa and leaned on his knees, eyes blank. “I can’t be here as

long as...” he seemed to have a problem saying Angel’s name. A film of tears layered his eyes. “...as

long as he’s here.”

Max went to him and lowered to his heels, resting one hand on Dane’s knee. “I can’t just let you

leave without at least knowing why you’re going.”

Shaking his head, Dane pinched his fingers to the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. “I can’t

tell you,” he choked quietly. “I can’t tell anyone. But,” he swallowed hard, “none of this is Angel’s

fault. At all. It’s all mine.”

Max rubbed his hand over the man’s hair and touched his forehead to Dane’s temple. “I don’t

want you to go,” he whispered. “Lately, you’re all that’s keeping me sane.”

Dane looked at him then kissed his mouth softly. “I’m not going away from you, I’m just,” his

lips tightened, pain floating in his dark eyes, “I’m just going away from this place.”

“It won’t be the same here without you.” Emotion squeezed Max’s throat, his chest.

“I’m sorry,” Dane whispered thickly, then stood up. Max stood with him. Dane gazed at him and

it was clear he didn’t really want to go. “But I don’t have any choice.”

Chapter Six

What Is Truth?

The cold light of day did little to dispel Angel’s ghostly presence that lingered heavily in the

apartment. Everywhere he looked now, he saw the boy; working his supple body so beautifully,

sliding out of his clothes, his lovely crystal white eyes gazing back at Dane with both desire and

affection, his heart right out there for the taking.

And Dane had taken it; snatched it up so quickly it had sent them both reeling.

He swallowed hard, a lump in his throat that hadn’t gone away since the moment he’d thrust

Angel out of his life.

I took his heart and I crushed it. Dane’s eyes filled and the apartment shimmered and distorted.

Mental exhaustion gripped him and he just wanted to go back to bed, sleep until the pain went away.

As he looked at the stairs, he wondered if he would ever be able to go back up there. In his mind he

saw himself climbing those stairs last night, Angel in his arms, his legs wrapped around Dane’s waist

as he clung to him so eagerly, aching to make love to him. Last night he’d renamed those stairs the

stairway to heaven. Today, they would only lead him to a deeper emotional hell—as up in the loft

awaited his bed, sheets and blankets still crumpled and messed from their entwined bodies coupling

in sweet ecstasy, his pillow retaining the slight depression where Angel’s beautiful head had lain.

He entered the kitchen area and kept his eyes averted from the stairs. They were off limits for

now. At some point he would have to go up there, if only to pack his shit and move out, find some

other place to live that held no memories of Angel. My Angel. His throat burned with emotion. Not

anymore.

Clearing his throat, he opened the refrigerator and grabbed a beer, then surveyed what remained.

It didn’t seem like enough to get shit-faced. If he couldn’t sleep, then that’s what he needed; to drown

his fucking sorrows. It was cliché, but sounded pretty fucking sweet to him right about now, despite

the fact that the day was just starting. For Dane, though, it wasn’t a start of a new day, but an extension

of yesterday, last night. Just one long agonizing day that he feared would never fucking end until his

last breath was taken on this miserable earth.

He popped off the cap of the beer bottle and chugged it, then wiped his mouth. “Well aren’t you

just a bundle of fucking sunshine this morning?” he muttered.

* * *

“Hold up.” Wade stopped Angel and Maddy on their way to the front door. “And where are we

going so bright and early?” Wade’s eyes were bloodshot and rimmed in red as he practically sagged

on the sofa. Axel was crashed at the opposite end, body twisted at an uncomfortable angle. Was it too

much to hope for that one of these nights they might overdose on their new drug?

A quick scan through the small dingy apartment, and Angel found no sign of Byrd. He was rarely

still around come morning. Angel had no idea where he actually lived, or if he even had his own

place. Maybe he just bounced from one friend’s place to another. Angel didn’t care, he just wished

he’d quit landing here.

Axel stirred when Wade spoke. He raised his head weakly, eyes barely open, and then dropped

it again. Both of them disgusted Angel. He and Maddy were in this living situation because they had

no other options; Wade and Axel chose to live this way. Living in cheap places that didn’t cost much

left more money for their habits.

“I’m taking Maddy out to look for a job,” Angel told him and gently ushered his little brother

toward the door, while he himself remained stationary. Wade frowned as if he didn’t know what

Angel was talking about. Had the drugs fried his memory? “You said he could get a job.”

For a brief, stressful moment, Angel feared he might withdraw permission. But then he flicked

his hand dismissively. “Whatever. Get the fuck out.” He leaned forward and grabbed a crumpled pack

of cigarettes and dug out the last one and stuffed it between his parched lips. “Hey.” He dug into his

pocket and tugged out one of the fifties Angel had given him two nights ago, pinched it between his

fingers and waggled it at Angel. “Grab me a carton of smokes while you’re out.” Angel took the

money. “And don’t be out all fucking day. I need those smokes.”

Angel nodded and walked to the door with Maddy.

Wade cleared his throat, halting them as Angel grabbed the door knob. “Do I need to remind you

what will happen if you get a dumb ass notion not to come back?” He spoke low, a threatening edge

to his voice.

“No,” Angel murmured without looking at him. “We’ll be back in a couple hours.”

“See that you are,” Wade mumbled then left the sofa and walked toward the hallway, scratching

his balls, and then hollered back, “I want all my fucking change from that fifty.”

‘Your’ fucking change? Rolling his eyes, Angel opened the door and left the apartment with

Maddy.

Sometimes, from within the apartment, it was hard to tell what the day was like outside, what

with the filthy windows and makeshift curtains that Wade never opened, as well as the close brick

wall of the next building over. But this day turned out to be nice, sunny.

It was rare that Wade let Angel and Maddy go anywhere alone together. He didn’t always trust

them to come back, and thus had made a point of threatening Angel—using Maddy as his leverage.

And it worked. Until Angel was one hundred percent certain they could run and get away for good, he

wouldn’t risk it.

Maddy walked beside him silently, hands stuffed in his pockets and staring at the ground. He

hadn’t said a word to Angel since the incident with Byrd last night. It was the first time that Maddy

had ever been in the same room with Angel when he was being used by another man. Most of the

time, it happened away from the apartment altogether, with these recent, rare exceptions. He

wondered if Maddy was in some form of emotional shock. Byrd had said plenty last night while

fucking Angel, talking about his tight ass, and making references to how good it felt around his cock.

And then his sex sounds were reminiscent of animal noises. It would seem almost unnatural for the

boy not to be in a kind of shock.

Angel didn’t know if he should talk to Maddy about it, or just let sleeping dogs lie. Maybe

bringing it up would only traumatize the kid that much more. He decided to leave it for now. “I got

some more cash for the jar last night,” he said softly. “A few hundred. At this rate, it shouldn’t take

too long to save up enough to get out of here.”

Licking his lips, Maddy simply nodded.

His throat constricting, causing an ache to vein up into his face, Angel murmured thickly, “I’m

okay, Maddy. I know how to deal with it.”

Maddy hugged himself. “You were crying,” his soft, quiet voice trembled, and then he stopped

walking suddenly and broke into sobs.

Wrapping his arms around Maddy, Angel held him tight, rubbing his back. “It’s gonna be okay,

Maddy,” he whispered in his ear. “We’re gonna get out of there, and we won’t ever have to see any

of those guys again.” He kissed his hair and tried to speak around the hard knot in his throat. “We’ll

go far away, maybe the West Coast. Get us a place in the country, some animals. And forget that this

right here was ever part of our lives. We’ll start over and we’ll be okay.” His arms tightened and he

buried his face in Maddy’s hair. “We will, Maddy. I promise.”

The sidewalk blurred as tears slid down his face. Please, God, let it be a promise I can keep.

* * *

The remaining suds of his third beer slid down his throat when the knock came. With the loud

heavy metal music blasting through the speakers, it may not have been the first knock. Dane

considered ignoring it as his head dropped back over the sofa and his ears rang with AC/DC’s

Highway to Hell. It seemed fitting and the noise served as an outlet for his tension, draining his urge

to punch walls or break windows.

Another knock. Louder. More insistent.

“Fuck.” He pushed up off the sofa and walked to the door without bothering to turn down the

music. Perhaps it would deter his visitor. He opened the door with a sigh and dull eyes, only to be

met with Cole’s hard pale gray stare. The man said something that was instantly drowned out by the

rock music. Dane held his hand up behind his ear. “Huh?”

His face pinching with annoyance, Cole shoved past him and entered the apartment. Gabe was

with him, sporting an indecipherable look on his face. He stepped in only when Dane motioned with

his hand.

Cole turned off the music then walked back over to Dane. “What the fuck is going on?” he asked

stiffly and surveyed the apartment. “Drinking and blasting music this early in the morning. What’s

with you?”

“Who’re you? My dad?” Dane said dryly. “I’m not sixteen. I don’t need to be reprimanded for

playing my music too loud or cracking a cold one.”

“You’re not sixteen?” Cole stared at him. “Then stop acting like it. What the fuck did you do to

Angel?”

Gabe stood back silently, and Dane suspected he tagged along to possibly keep Cole in line—if

push came to shove.

“It’s none of your business,” Dane mumbled and headed for the kitchen to grab another beer. He

was brought up short as Cole grabbed his arm and jerked him around. “What the fuck, man?”

“Angel is a fucking mess,” Cole said tightly, brow pinched hard. “He said you fucked him then

dumped him. So I’m asking you—what happened?”

Angel is a fucking mess. The strength threatened to leave Dane’s legs and he had to fight not to

drop into a heap and break down crying. He knew what he’d done to Angel—he didn’t need it thrown

in his fucking face. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he muttered.

“I don’t give a fuck if you want to talk about it or not,” Cole snapped. “Did you fuck him?”

His breath rushing through his nostrils, Dane’s jaw tightened; he couldn’t tell them the truth of

what happened. Being pushed to do so was filling him with frustration and anger. “Yes.”

Cole’s chest heaved. “And then what?” He shrugged. “That was it? You got your piece of ass

and so you were done with him?”

Tears glazed Dane’s eyes. “Get out of my house,” he whispered thickly, tightly.

“Cole,” Gabe cautioned. “Come on, man. Don’t—”

“No, I want to know.” His hard eyes never left Dane’s face. “I thought you really liked the kid.

But what? You just wanted in his ass?”

Dane’s arm was cocked and his fist flying forward when Gabe caught it just before his knuckles

smashed into Cole’s jaw. “Whoa! Okay. We all need to just calm down,” Gabe looked at Cole.

“What the hell are you doing, man?”

Backing off, Cole rubbed his mouth and swallowed hard, eyes glossy. “All I know is that Angel

came back to the club in a fucking mess, suddenly convinced that we’re all just bullshitting him and

out to use him. Something fucking happened. Now what the hell did you do?”

“I told you to get out,” Dane whispered tightly. “I don’t have to explain myself to you or anyone.

Just leave me the fuck alone.”

“Fine,” Cole’s voice strained. “I’ll get out for now. But this isn’t over. You don’t get to take a

boy like Angel and crush him, and then walk away with no fucking explanations.” His breath

quickened with emotion. “You could have at least had the decency to explain it to Angel.”

Gabe played his part and ushered Cole out of the apartment, then turned back before Dane could

slam the door. “Look, man. Cole’s just upset. We know you wouldn’t pull some bullshit stunt like that

on Angel. But the boy is hurting real bad. You might want to talk to him, at least try to help him

understand what’s going on. You don’t have to tell anyone else. But at least tell him.” His lips

tightened. “The kid really liked you, Dane. Don’t be so quick to just throw that away.”

Dane just stared at him. He knew Cole well enough to know that the guy could get overzealous

and fired up when he felt strongly about something. Though he’d attempted to punch him, he wasn’t

holding grudges or taking his words too personally. But neither could he take Gabe’s advice. He

couldn’t tell Angel the truth. Especially not Angel. Maybe it was better if the kid just developed a

healthy hate for him.

Chapter Seven

Hope & Despair

For the most part, he didn’t touch the money he put in the jar. But that day, before leaving the

apartment, Angel had taken out a small amount. He took Maddy out for a real breakfast of pancakes,

eggs and sausage after the boy’s emotions calmed. Pancakes were Maddy’s favorite but Wade didn’t

like them and, therefore Angel wasn’t allowed to make pancakes for breakfast back at the apartment.

Though he was still visibly upset, Maddy enjoyed his rare breakfast nonetheless.

This is how it should be, all the time, Angel thought sadly. Just Maddy and me, living our own

lives.

When they left the small diner, Angel took them across the street to an electronics shop. “What’re

we doing in here?” Maddy asked. His eyes were bright with longing as he gazed at all the digital

gadgets that most kids took for granted. Angel wanted to buy him an mp3 player, but had no way to put

music on it. They didn’t own a computer, and even if they had, Wade sure as hell wouldn’t pay for

internet. The few CDs they did have back at the apartment belonged to Wade and Axel, most of which

were acid rock.

Angel found what he was looking for. He plucked the ten dollar prepaid cellphone off the rack.

“This,” he said, then grabbed a minutes card.

“Why?” Maddy frowned. “Who would you call?”

“It isn’t for me,” Angel told him. “It’s for you.” He took the phone and the card to the counter and

paid for them, then left the store.

“Why do I need a phone?” Maddy asked when they were on the sidewalk again.

“Because I want you to have a way to get a hold of me while I’m at work,” he said. “In case

something happens and you can’t get out of the apartment. I’ll program the club number into speed

dial.”

Maddy nodded silently.

“But you have to be extra careful and not let Wade or Axel know that you have it,” He told

Maddy. “If they find out I bought it, they’ll know I’m keeping money back from them. And they might

find the rest of it and take it.”

“I’ll keep it hidden,” Maddy assured.

Angel opened the phone package, took out the cell and charger cord, and then dumped the empty

package in a trash can. He didn’t want any evidence of the phone lying around the apartment. “We’ll

have to charge the battery when we get home.” He stuffed the phone, charger and minutes card into his

jacket pocket. “Then I’ll add the number of the club.” He draped his arm across Maddy’s shoulder

and smiled, “Now let’s go find you a job. We’ll try for the market just down from the apartment; I

don’t want you having to walk too far alone.” The streets weren’t safe, but then neither was the

apartment. “And don’t let me forget Wade’s smokes,” he rolled his eyes. “God forbid he should have

to go without those.”

A faint smile tugged the corner of Maddy’s lips. Angel squeezed his arm around his shoulder and

laughed softly.

“Do you think you’ll be able to make good money every night?” Maddy asked soberly.

Angel sighed. “I’m gonna try. As long as Wade don’t catch on that I’m skimming off the top, we

should be able to build up our stash real quick.”

That made Maddy smile. “We’re really going to get out of here?”

“Yes,” Angel answered without hesitation. He could think of a million other ways he’d rather

make money, but for now this was it. And the men from the Phoenix weren’t so bad—if Lex, or even

Oliver, were any indication. They were clean, and suave, and even willing to shell out some pleasure

as well as cash.

“I wish,” Maddy looked at the ground, “I wish you didn’t have to do those things to get the

money.”

“Me too,” Angel admitted softly. “But the men I deal with now aren’t like the others from before.

They’re not mean, or gross. Some of them are actually kind of nice.” He drew Maddy closer to him as

they walked down the street. “They don’t hurt me.”

Maddy was quiet a moment then whispered, “Did Byrd hurt you?”

“No,” Angel murmured. “He didn’t hurt me. He would if I fought him. But no, last night he didn’t

hurt me. That wasn’t why I was crying.”

Glancing up, Maddy’s brow pinched. “Then why were you?”

Angel looked at him and his heart fell to pieces all over again as Dane’s dismissal played back

through his head. It still didn’t add up or make sense. Even after everything Dane said and did, Angel

was still having a difficult time truly believing that the man he showed himself to be before—was a

lie. Or maybe he just didn’t want to believe that the man he’d been falling for didn’t really exist.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said quietly, voice thick with tears he couldn’t push back. “It’s over

with.”

* * *

When a knock at the door sounded again a short while later, Dane wondered if Cole had escaped

Gabe’s leash and returned for a dog fight. In truth, he didn’t know who he expected to find on the

other side of his door. But he sure as hell hadn’t expected the one who was standing there. “Caleb?”

Dane’s heart shuddered, the sight of the boy ripping at his defenses. His eyes burned and he wanted to

grab the young man and cry on his shoulder. But that didn’t seem the manly thing to do just then, and

he blinked quickly to pull back the tears.

“Hey, sexy,” Caleb smiled, the sharp blue of his eyes sparkling and reminding Dane all over

again why he had fallen so hard for the boy. Caleb glanced past him. “Are you going to invite me in or

don’t you like me anymore?”

Clearing his throat, Dane chuckled softly and stepped back. “I still kind of like you,” he sighed.

“Come in.”

When the door closed and he turned around, Caleb cocked an eyebrow. “No hug?”

“Jeez, it’s like you think I missed you or something,” Dane mumbled then grinned and grabbed

him up in his arms, squeezing tightly. The guy still felt good inside his embrace.

Caleb hugged him back, holding him with affection. “I’ve missed you too,” he said, grunting a

little from Dane’s strong arms.

Finally releasing him, Dane nodded toward the kitchen. “Want a beer?”

“A beer?” Caleb looked at him, lips twisting. “It isn’t even noon yet.”

“And your point being?” Dane smirked and stepped up into the elevated kitchen and grabbed the

last two beers he had left and brought them back to Caleb, handing him one of the bottles.

Caleb glanced toward the sofa where three empty beer bottles sat on the coffee table. “Starting

early today?”

Shrugging, Dane grinned and downed a swallow from the fresh bottle. “So, how’s Samuel?”

Caleb continued to survey the apartment. “He’s good,” he murmured. “Busy.” He looked at Dane

but had yet to take a drink of his beer. “He’s working on Christian’s case. And I’m trying to help him

put together Nick’s case as well.”

“That’s good.” He motioned him toward the sofa. “I hope all goes well.”

Caleb sat down. “It seems to be.” He placed the full bottle of beer on the coffee table and leaned

on his knees. “So, how are you doing?” He raised his eyes and looked at Dane as he sat down next to

him.

Nodding slowly, Dane’s lips tightened. “Max sent you here, didn’t he?”

“Nobody sent me here,” Caleb said. “I went to the club to see you and Max told me that you

quit.” His brow arched and he flicked his hands. “What the hell is that all about? You love the

Phoenix. Why would you quit?”

Exhaling slowly, Dane merely shook his head and tipped the bottle up a second time. “I have my

reasons.”

“Which are?”

“Private,” Dane murmured and stared blankly at the floor, the cold bottle twisting back and forth

in his fingers. Caleb just looked at him, and there was a knowing glint in his eyes. He sighed. “Max

told you, didn’t he?”

“Max didn’t tell me anything except that you quit.” Caleb rubbed his lips together, an almost

apologetic look pinching his face. “But I did have a brief talk with Cole and Gabe.”

Dane groaned and shook his head. “Great,” he muttered and chugged his beer. Caleb grabbed it

out of his hand. “Hey.”

“That’s enough,” Caleb told him and set the bottle on the coffee table next to the others. “The

answers to your problems won’t be found in the bottom of a bottle—so quit looking there.”

“What problems?”

“Dane...” Caleb’s tone softened, which yanked at Dane’s heart strings, snapping a few in the

process.

Dane left the sofa and walked over to the stereo but didn’t turn it on. Yesterday was burned into

his brain, choosing music for him and Angel to dance to—and everything that followed. He

swallowed hard. “There are no answers,” he whispered, “in the bottom of the bottle or anywhere.”

He licked his lips and blinked at the sting in his eyes. “I’m not drinking in an attempt to solve

anything. I just...” his lips tightened and vision blurred, “I just want it all to go away. Stop—hurting.”

Caleb’s hands were on his waist before he heard the boy move from the sofa. He rested his head

against the nape of Dane’s neck. “Believe me; I know what that hurt feels like. I didn’t see any way

things could ever be fixed between Samuel and me.” He slipped his arms around Dane’s waist and

hugged him. “There’s always a way. If you love someone enough, you won’t stop until you find it.”

“You don’t understand.” Dane trembled and closed his eyes. His hands covered Caleb’s. “There

is no way to fix it—not this time.”

Chapter Eight

A New Level of Hell

He had overreacted and he would be the first to admit it. Regardless of how Angel interpreted

his breakup with Dane, Cole knew that the man hadn’t let Angel go out of a cold, calloused heart.

Seeing him at the apartment, the pain in his eyes—the man was suffering. It just bothered Cole that he

didn’t feel he could confide in his own friends. He had to know there was nothing he could say that

would turn Cole and Gabe against him.

Yet he refused to reveal his reasoning for turning Angel loose, knowing he was shattering the

boy’s heart. As well as his own.

Cole watched Gabe flirting half-heartedly with a customer who seemed to merely want to make

eyes at the man but nothing more. No money in that. Which was clearly Gabe’s deduction as he

twisted around on the barstool, turning his back to the customer. “Can’t pay the bills playing googly

eyes.”

“Nope,” Cole chuckled and glanced discreetly at his boyfriend. He’d made no mention of the

phone call he’d overheard in Max’s office, and he didn’t know if he should leave it alone or ask Gabe

about it straight out. But the guy had already lied to him once about the phone call the other night, and

Cole wasn’t certain he’d be honest about this one.

So now he had two friends unwilling to let him in on important issues. At which point he

wondered, had he ceased to be trustworthy? There wasn’t a thing in the world that he would keep

from Gabe, or even Dane.

“Hello?” Gabe was staring at him.

“What?”

“I asked if you thought that Caleb got Dane to tell him what was going on.”

Cole shrugged then sighed. “I don’t know. I’m leaning toward no. Whatever it is that caused

Dane to dump Angel, it had to have been bad. Like real bad.”

“Like what?” Gabe posed.

“I don’t have a fucking clue.” Cole drummed his fingers on the bar top absently. “But, like I said,

it had to have been real bad if he was willing to crush Angel that way. And take on that much pain

himself.”

Gabe stared at him, both quizzically and with amusement.

“What?”

“Well aren’t you the deductive thinker all of the sudden.”

Cole frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Where was this rationale when we were at Dane’s earlier?”

“I get it. I should have approached him in a calmer manner,” Cole said.

Gabe arched an eyebrow and smirked. “Ya think? You just about got your block knocked off.

Just be glad I’ve got cat-like reflexes.” He shook his head. “You know, you’re supposed to be the

voice of reason in this relationship, not me. You know I can’t handle that kind of responsibility. It’s

too much of an effort.”

“Shit.” Cole chuckled and grabbed the back of Gabe’s neck, pulled him close and kissed his

mouth. “Sorry about that. My bad.”

“Just see that it doesn’t happen again, baby.” He kissed Cole back, a crooked smile twisting his

lips. “I like being the bad boy. It’s good for my image.”

“I tell you what,” Cole grinned, a dark glint to his eyes, “when we get home tonight...” He

winked and licked his lips. “You can be a bad, bad boy all you want.”

“Yay for me,” Gabe gazed at him with heavy, wanton eyes. He smiled coolly, “And for you.”

God, baby, you make me crazy. Please don’t be caught up in something that’s gonna hurt us.

* * *

“Took you long enough.” Axel sat forward on the sofa snorting another line of coke off the coffee

table.

“Go to the room,” Angel murmured to Maddy. “I’ll be there in a minute.” Having Maddy around

the pot was bad enough. But this shit? He didn’t want his little brother anywhere near it.

Axel straightened up and sniffed hard then rubbed his nose and cleared his throat. “You got the

smokes?”

Angel handed him the small paper bag with the carton of cigarettes inside, as well as the change

for the fifty—right down to the cent. “Where’s Wade?”

“He went out with Byrd.” Axel cleared his throat again and kept rubbing at his nostrils. He

dropped the bag on the sofa, dug out the carton and tossed it aside then dumped out the change. He

gathered it up and stuffed it in his pocket.

“Make sure Wade knows I brought all his change back,” Angel said quietly. If Wade thought he

stole from him, there would be hell to pay.

“Yeah whatever,” Axel mumbled noncommittally and scraped up the remaining powder into a

pile with a small square of stiff paper, scooping it back into a baggie.

Angel walked past the sofa toward the hallway. He wanted to get the phone charged as soon as

possible, so it would be ready for use by the time he left for work. His stepbrothers’ new habit made

him nervous. Hard drugs made people more unpredictable, even dangerous. Just because Wade had

given his word while he was clear-headed and sober—that he wouldn’t let anyone touch Maddy—

who’s to say what he would do when he was high on coke? Their situation wasn’t stressful enough

before? Now they had to deal with this shit?

“Hey.” Axel stopped him as he was about to leave the living room.

Dread squeezed Angel’s gut. He turned around. “What?”

Axel was twisted around, his arm hanging loosely over the back of the sofa, eyelids heavy and a

smirk on his face. “You know this coke shit, it makes us fucking horny.”

Angel just looked at him silently, stomach hurting.

He snickered. “Makes my cock hard for hours. I told Wade to bring a bitch back here to suck me

off, but he won’t.”

Angel was clueless as to why the guy was telling him this stuff. He didn’t want to hear it, and it

made him nervous, wondering if it was going somewhere.

“Come here,” Axel told him. His eyes grew heavier with sexual heat. The man was higher than a

kite, and with a raging hard-on.

“Why?” Angel murmured, feeling sick.

“Byrd says you’re a great little cock sucker.”

“Byrd’s a fag,” Angel whispered tightly.

Axel snorted. “Ya think?” He shook his head. “He acts like he likes you because you’re like a

girl. But that ain’t it. It’s because he’s cock hard for guys.”

Maybe the guy wasn’t quite the moron Angel took him to be.

“You wanna know a secret?”

Angel wasn’t sure he did, but even so, his curiosity was piqued. “What?” he murmured

uncertainly.

“Byrd talked Wade into fucking him last night,” he snickered. “They thought I was passed out,

but I wasn’t. They went into Wade’s bedroom and I could hear them going at it.”

Was he serious? Or just high and delusional? Wade and Byrd? Angel found it hard to believe

that Wade would fuck a guy, and really hoped Axel was just out of his mind. He didn’t need to start

worrying about Wade taking an interest in him—or Maddy—as well.

“I don’t think Wade was enjoying it at first,” Axel smirked. “But Byrd just kept on fucking him,

and then Wade started telling him to fuck him harder.” At least in his drugged-out state, Axel seemed

to find all this quite amusing. “Who’d have thought big tough Wade would turn fag?”

Angel wasn’t exactly sure why straight men, especially, thought that being gay made a man weak.

There were plenty of guys at the Phoenix to dispel that bullshit theory.

“Shit. They’re probably out fucking right now.”

Just shut up already and let me leave, Angel thought anxiously. He didn’t know why Axel had

told him to come over there, and he didn’t want to know. Maybe the guy was high enough that he

forgot he even told him.

Groaning, Axel rubbed his crotch. “God, I’m so fucking horny. Coke is like a fuck drug.”

Angel’s anxiety heightened.

“Come here,” Axel said again, flicking his hand.

“I have stuff to do,” Angel said quietly, not wishing to get anywhere near that sofa or the cock

hard man sitting on it.

The amusement drained off Axel’s face. “I said come here.”

Angel thought about defying him but knew it would only lead to a beating. Axel could be hot-

headed. Angel didn’t trust him to stop once his fists started flying. He walked slowly back toward the

sofa, but stopped a couple of feet away, just out of Axel’s reach. “What?”

“Come over here and sit down,” he said. “Let’s chat. We never chat.”

I wonder why? Angel licked his lips slowly. “Axel...”

Axel patted the cushion next to him and a small plume of dust poofed up. “Come on, angel boy.

Don’t be scared.”

Angel walked around the end of the sofa and sat down, though not right next to Axel. “What do

you want?” he whispered thickly.

“Just want to see what all the hoopla is about.”

“What?” Angel frowned.

“Byrd likes it. Now Wade likes it, too.” He shrugged and grinned. “Just curious I guess.”

His breath quickening, Angel drew back.

“Come on.” He unfastened his pants and shoved down the front. His engorged cock sprang free.

“Suck it.”

Angel swallowed hard. “You always make fun of Byrd for wanting me to blow him.”

Axel sighed heavily and stroked his rigid shaft. “I don’t fucking care,” he groaned. “Right now

I’d fuck a dog, I’m so fucking horny.” His other hand shot out suddenly and grabbed a fistful of

Angel’s hair and he shoved his face down to his crotch. “Suck me off, you little faggot.”

Angel’s lips touched the leaking tip of his erection when the door opened and Wade and Byrd

entered. “Whoa. What’s going on here?” Wade snorted and Byrd laughed with a jeering tone.

“Nothing,” Axel said stiffly, and shoved Angel away.

“Awww, we got us another little cake boy on our hands?” Byrd snickered.

Axel turned beet red. “Shut the fuck up. I ain’t no faggot. You got a lot of room to talk.”

Taking his chance, Angel slipped quickly out of the room while Wade and Byrd razzed Axel. He

hurried to the bedroom and closed the door behind him, leaning against it, fighting the tears. I don’t

fucking need this, god dammit! I really don’t! What the fuck?

“Angel?” Maddy was staring at him uncertainly. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Angel cleared his throat then tugged the phone and charger from his pocket. His hands

shook as he plugged the charger in behind the milk crate they used as a night stand between the

mattresses. He sniffed and wiped quickly at his eyes. Of course Maddy knew he was full of shit in

saying nothing was wrong, but he wasn’t going to tell him what happened. The poor kid was stressed

enough being left with their stepbrothers. If Maddy thought that they might do something to him

sexually, he would be in a constant state of panic every second Angel was gone. But not telling

Maddy did little to ease Angel’s own fears. That fucking drug made them horny enough to fuck

whoever they could get their hands on. Angel couldn’t help but believe that Axel had been telling the

truth about Wade and Byrd.

What if they all decide to gang up on Maddy while I’m gone?

Angel’s eyes burned and he squeezed them shut, struggling to eradicate the horrifying images

such a thought conjured up. No! He’ll be okay. He will!

Sliding the crate back to conceal the phone and plugin, Angel scooted over and sat on his bed. “It

should be charged by the time I go to work tonight,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. He looked

at the kid with wet eyes. “If they so much as just talk about doing anything to you—call me. Okay?”

Maddy nodded, a new fear creeping into his eyes.

Chapter Nine

Manna from Heaven

Ebony strands clung starkly to the white silk pillow case where Seth’s head lay in the softness,

beautiful eyes closed in sleep. The silk comforter now draped off the end of the bed, a portion

crumpled on the floor. The young man’s tanned, fit body sprawled on the matching white sheets, face

down, the top sheet twisted around his legs but leaving the rest of him exposed for Horatio’s viewing

pleasure.

Seth’s skin glistened with a glaze of sweat, slightly tacky now to the touch as Horatio kissed his

shoulder. His fingers played lightly through the boy’s damp hair and he breathed him in. You can call

me Max. And he had—while the guy fucked him onto another cosmic plane, Horatio had clung to him,

shouting out Max’s name, needing Seth to be Max. And, for the duration of their session, he had

convinced himself that’s just who he was.

Even now, watching him sleep, his messed black hair against the pillow and face turned away,

Horatio could still make believe it was Max lying next to him. But only to a degree. He couldn’t push

reality out entirely, though he longed to do so. In his heart he knew this wasn’t Max, merely a

beautiful boy who resembled him.

“I miss you.” His lips touched the young man’s back and he closed his eyes, chest hurting. “I

miss you so much.” Perhaps what hurt the most was that he could never go back. It hurt Max too much

to have him there, pushing him to relinquish control to his heart, and say to hell with reality.

Convincing the man to make love to him hadn’t helped Max, but hurt him more.

And now he couldn’t even be there as a friend. Whatever friendship façade they had created—

Horatio had destroyed. Had he really believed that, by coaxing Max to bed, he could change his mind,

get him to see things as Horatio himself did?

Seth stirred when Horatio shifted and kissed the depression of his lower back where a shallow

puddle of sweat had gathered. His gently rounded butt cheeks flexed, the perfect tanned muscles

squeezing then relaxing, sparkling with slowly evaporating beaded sweat droplets. Horatio’s tongue

darted out and licked his tacky skin, causing Seth’s butt muscles to jump again and a soft moan to seep

out of him.

“Your body is perfect,” Horatio murmured and rubbed his palm lightly over the rise of his

cheeks then down the back of his thighs. When he came back up again, his fingertips caressed his

inner thigh all the way into the warm cave just below his rear that housed his hot, damp sack and

down-turned member. He raked his fingers gently across the bottom side of his cock then his balls

before running them up between his heated cheeks, dragging up through the crease.

He stretched out next to Seth and continued to stroke inside the cave of his warm rump. Seth

raised his ass a little and Horatio rimmed his hole with one fingertip as he kissed his shoulder.

“Mmm.” Seth turned his face to him and smiled, eyes still closed. “That feels good.”

“It does,” Horatio whispered and kissed his lips. “And that tastes good.”

Seth opened his eyes slowly. “Why don’t you go back to him?” he murmured. “Show him how

much you still love him?”

“I did.” Horatio kissed him again. “But he can’t love me back. Not like I want him to.”

Twisting onto his side, Seth trailed his fingertips over Horatio’s chest. “Why?” When he didn’t

answer, Seth glanced up and smiled. “Right. It’s complicated.”

“Yeah.” Horatio licked his lips and nodded, voice strained. But it wasn’t, not really. It could

easily be explained in a simple sentence. But they were words Horatio had never spoken aloud; to do

so would make the reality of it too stark and—undeniable.

* * *

An abundance of anxiety—more than usual—burdened Angel when he left the apartment to go to

work. Byrd was still there, and he and Wade had come back with a fresh supply of their new fuck

drug, as Axel had referred to it. Now that Angel was bringing in a sizable wad of cash nearly every

night, would Byrd become a permanent fixture in their lives? He was the type of guy who would hang

around where the cash was. Being dominant over Wade and Axel, he surely had a say in how that

cash was spent—thus the drugs.

But that was just something Angel would have to deal with. The more money he brought in, the

more he could shave off the top and add to their escape fund. When Angel headed for the door, Wade

tossed at him: “Fuck ‘em good tonight, baby. Bring home a bundle,” then the three of them laughed.

Angel left without replying.

Entering the club tied his stomach into knots. What would he say if he found himself face to face

with Dane? Would Dane even acknowledge him? He tried to let the bitterness bubble to the surface,

take control, as it had done last night. It made him a much better whore than when he was hurting and

thinking of a life apart from all this. With anger in his blood, he could allow himself to get into his

role, even revel in it to some degree as if he were to spite the man who had ripped out his heart.

There was no immediate sign of Dane when he entered, though Cole spotted him as soon as he

came into the club. He wanted to go the other way when the guy approached him, but there was really

nowhere to run that Cole couldn’t find him, not within the confines of the Phoenix.

“Hey.” There was a cautious air about the man, as if he were afraid of scaring Angel away. “I

just wanted to apologize about last night,” he said. “I didn’t mean to be so forceful with you.”

Angel shrugged and looked out across the floor. “It’s all right,” he mumbled.

“Are you okay?”

Meeting his stare, Angel nodded. “Yeah. I’m fine.” He almost sounded convincing, even to

himself. “Whatever. The guy was just looking for a one-time thing. No big deal. I’m not looking for

more than that either.” He wasn’t sure where these words were coming from, or how they flowed out

so smoothly and even without a single hitch of emotion, but he was thankful. He’d broken down in

front of Cole once already, he didn’t mean to let it happen again.

“It’s okay to be upset,” Cole said quietly.

“I’m not,” Angel lied, eyes unwavering. “I told you, I’m fine. Just drop it.” He moved on past

him. “I have to get ready for work.” He waited for the shakes to grab him as he walked away from

Cole, but they never presented themselves. Maybe he really was okay and only thought he’d been

falling for Dane. Because right now, he felt nothing. And it was great. The only thing causing him

stress was thinking of Maddy. But when he considered what had happened with Dane, his heart went

numb.

Ricky seemed hesitant to approach him, so he made the first move. “Sorry about before,” he

offered dully, without much warmth. He didn’t want the guy to think they were friends again.

Attachments here at the club were something he hoped to avoid now. When he got enough money, he

didn’t want anything holding him back from taking Maddy and running, getting as far away from the

city as possible. He didn’t want any regrets or to feel as if he were leaving behind people he cared

for. Maddy was all he needed.

“It’s cool,” Ricky nodded, “I understand.” He leaned against the door frame of the dressing

room. “By the way, there’s a customer who’s been asking for you.”

“For me?” Angel looked at him. He hadn’t done any stage shows or anything really that would

cause him to stand out from the rest of the boys. How did any of the customers even know who he

was? Except for Lex, or Oliver; it had to be one of them. Either of which he was cool with. “Okay.

I’ll be out in a minute. Where is he?”

“In the VIP room.”

Angel nodded and Ricky left, a look of concern still gripping his brow. After changing into a pair

of tight blue and black striped shorts that left a healthy portion of his ass hanging out, Angel went to

the VIP room, fully expecting to find either Lex or Oliver awaiting him. But it was neither.

“Well good evening.” The man was clean shaven, and his dark honey brown hair looked freshly

cut and styled. His expensive suit hugged his body nicely—which Angel suspected was quite fit. He’d

had his fill of smelly, out of shape men. It was a pleasant change to deal with the customers who

frequented the Phoenix club. “I’m Kurtwood,” he held out his hand then smiled, “or just Kurt.”

Angel shook his hand and put on his game face. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Kurt.”

“No, no.” Kurt’s smile curved his lovely lips. “The pleasure is all mine.” He held onto Angel’s

hand as his eyes grazed down his body. “Angel, isn’t it? Indeed a fitting name.” He arched an

eyebrow. “Or is that merely your stage name?”

“It’s my real name.”

That seemed to please the man and his smile widened. “Even better.”

“Would you like to take a seat?” Angel motioned toward a thick cushioned chair. The guy

nodded and approached the chair. Angel followed then peeled off Kurt’s jacket and laid it aside, then

slowly unfastened his tie and slipped it off as well. “You want to be comfortable.” Angel smiled

sensually and plucked loose a few buttons of his shirt. He teased the man’s chest with his fingertips.

Kurt’s breath quickened substantially and he ran his hands down Angel’s back, stopping just

short of his ass. “So, what all do I get for my money?” he murmured and nuzzled Angel’s ear, nipping

his earlobe.

Rubbing his crotch against Kurt’s hardening nether regions, Angel told him softly, “That depends

on what you’re willing to pay.”

Kurt groaned and slowly slid his hands down over Angel’s ass, squeezing his cheeks, pushing

his fingertips under the tight leg bands and playing inside the crack of his ass cheeks. “How much will

it cost to get inside this beautiful ass?”

The guy clearly wasn’t financially strapped and Angel took a leap, based on how horny he

appeared to be. “Three thousand,” Angel snapped off the amount without hitch, as if it were a price he

commonly received for access to his ass. Even Lex’s payout hadn’t been that high.

“Done,” Kurt accepted, pulling Angel firmly against his crotch. It was a good thing he was

holding on so tightly or else Angel might have fainted right away. Three thousand, and without even

blinking the guy had agreed to it. Shit, maybe he was selling himself short.

“Shall I dance for you?” Angel dragged the tip of his tongue up the center of the man’s throat and

over his chin. For three thousand bucks, he’d give the man the fucking royal treatment.

“Please,” Kurt moaned and Angel gently pushed him down in the chair then walked over and

turned on the music. The man’s generosity was rather inspiring and as Angel moved in close, body

swaying and curving, Kurt’s hands tracing lightly over his skin—his arousal began to grow, becoming

visible and prominent in his ultra-tight shorts. Kurt didn’t miss this and leaned forward, holding his

hips as they rocked to the music, and covered his hardened cock with his mouth, biting gently through

the thin glossy material.

Angel gasped softly and rolled his hips, withdrawing from the man’s mouth then swaying back in

as he took another grab at him. He seemed to be enjoying this and soon he was gripping Angel’s ass,

though not trying to prevent his movement. Kurt leaned back against the thick, soft chair and Angel

crawled on, kneeling with a knee on each side of Kurt’s hips, staying upright on his knees as he

continued to rock, and sway, teasing and taunting the man as his hard crotch continually brushed

against his chest.

Three thousand dollars. How much of that could he safely skim off without Wade being the

wiser?

Chapter Ten

Sins of the Flesh

The restlessness set in around dusk and grew worse as night approached. Dane wasn’t used to

being home at this time and he didn’t like it; no distractions, too quiet. There was nothing to deter his

thoughts from Angel. And then being in the very apartment where he and Angel had made love, where

he’d told the boy to get used to being loved that way. Even the sofa on which he sat held too many

memories that punched holes in his heart, but it was more bearable than the bed upstairs.

He had yet to go up there, though his body craved a long shower and the feel of his soft mattress

beneath him. Angel awaited him, his spirit still lying there on his bed. He couldn’t look the boy in the

eyes and face what he had done. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t dispel the image of Angel

walking from his car to the club, broken by Dane’s words, crying yet struggling to be strong.

In the late afternoon, Dane had gone out and bought more beer and a bottle of scotch. Caleb had

told him he couldn’t find the answers to his problems in the bottom of a bottle, but he wasn’t looking

for answers. As he’d told Caleb, he just wanted the hurt to go away. The young man had left his

apartment with great concern about his well-being; Caleb knew what despair could do to a man. He’d

gone over that ledge himself and it had been Dane who’d caught him and pulled him back. Perhaps he

was just trying to return the favor, pull Dane back now that he was the one teetering on the edge. But

Dane wouldn’t jump. He might drink himself into a drunken stupor, but he wouldn’t go that route. And

he was sure Caleb knew that deep down. Otherwise he wouldn’t have left him alone.

And now, as darkness pressed at his windows, he found himself wanting to be back at the club.

But Angel was there. It wasn’t that he would ignore the boy, but rather the opposite. If one single tear

appeared in Angel’s eyes, he would want to wipe it away, chase away the hurt he had caused. If the

boy asked Dane to take him home again, he would. They would make love and Dane’s guilt and pain

would deepen. And the moment would come when he would turn the boy away again. It would

become a cycle that would steadily tear them both to shreds.

* * *

“Is it all right for us to do it here?” Kurt panted. Angel was in his lap, rubbing, grinding. The

man’s pants were open, his erection forceful and shoving against his briefs. Angel preferred to

conduct this type of business outside of the club, but the VIP room seemed private enough.

“Yes.” His tongue thrust into Kurt’s mouth and he rocked slowly up and down against his crotch.

Kurt’s hands were down inside the back of his shorts and he pushed the tight confines lower. Angel

rose up on his knees again and the man tugged the shorts down off his hips, peeling them off Angel’s

stiff member. Moaning softly, Angel rocked his hips as the man’s hands wrapped around his cock.

“Fuck,” he gasped low and grabbed Kurt’s shoulders when his cock head was directed to the guy’s

mouth, then wrapped in soft, warm lips.

Kurt moaned, sucked hard on the crown then let it pop from his mouth. He licked his lips then

licked Angel’s leaking tip. “Fuck, Angel,” he moaned again. “You taste like heaven.” Before Angel

could reply, he was stuffed deep in the man’s throat and being sucked with a pressure and rhythm that

nearly cracked his mind.

“Oh my god.” He shuddered then grabbed Kurt’s head, fucking his mouth. “Oh fuck, yes.”

Kurt pulled off him then lifted Angel out of his lap and set him on his feet, dragging his shorts

down to his ankles. Angel kicked them away as the man shoved off his own pants and briefs, grabbed

his wallet from his jacket and dug out a huge wad of cash, dropped it on the small stand near the chair

then went into his wallet again and took out a strip of three condoms. He tore one off and dropped the

other two on top of the cash then opened the packet and rolled it down his stiff cock.

He wasn’t nearly as large as Lex, but he had a decent size to him. Kurt spit in his hand a couple

of times and coated his shaft. “Turn around, beautiful.” He took hold of Angel’s hips and turned him

facing away. “I want to watch this lovely ass ride my cock.”

Angel gripped Kurt’s knees and lowered himself on the man’s rigid member, gasping when his

sheathed cock head penetrated his ring. “Uuhh!” Angel bit his lower lip and dropped his head back,

pushing down harder as Kurt lifted his hips. “Fuck.” The man had a hold of him, guiding him

downward. Angel swiveled his hips slowly, screwing himself down on the man’s cock.

“Oh fuck,” Kurt panted, fingers gripping Angel’s hips, digging in. “Oh god, baby, yes, take it,

shit.” His panting grew harder, more forceful as Angel’s soft cheeks pressed down against his lap,

taking in his full length. Angel circled his hips, rolling his ass on the man’s cock. “Fuck, Angel,” Kurt

whimpered. “Show me what that ass can do.”

Smiling, Angel began to lift and drop his ass, gliding up and down the man’s stiff shaft, rotating

his hips, curving his body in a fluid motion with his rhythm, adopting an almost feline suppleness to

his movements.

“Oh my god,” Kurt gasped and leaned back hard against the chair, thrusting into Angel. “Oh fuck,

baby—fuck me—harder.” He swallowed thickly, unsteadily. “Yes, fuck me harder!”

Angel lost some of his graceful rhythm as Kurt squeezed his hips and began to pound his cock in

his ass. “Fuck!” Angel panted and gouged the man’s knees, bouncing on his hard rod, ass smacking

against his legs, blasting his breath out of him. “Uuh! Fuck!” Kurt was hammering away at him, no

rhythm just raw fucking, going wild. “Ahhh!” Angel threw his head back, body arching, his stiff

member bobbing freely, leaking cum juice.

Kurt released suddenly, without much warning. He held in his shouts and puffed hard through

clenched teeth, pumping Angel’s ass erratically then, seconds later, he sagged against the chair, breath

huffing. He still had a firm hold of Angel’s hips as the boy gasped for air, his own erection still rigid

and dripping.

“Stand up.” Kurt lifted him up as he spoke the words. Angel’s legs trembled and he took an

unsteady step forward, wiping a shaky hand over his sweat slick face. Kurt stood and peeled off the

soiled condom and dropped it in a small waste-basket then grabbed a second packet. Angel stared at

him, mildly stunned. Kurt nodded at the chair. “Kneel on the chair.”

He was ready to go again? But for three thousand dollars, Angel didn’t question the man. He

knelt on the soft cushion and leaned over the back as Kurt stepped up behind him. “This will be

quick,” he said with a rasp to his voice, “but I guarantee you’ll come, too.”

Kurt reached down and gripped Angel’s thigh and lifted his leg out to the side as he placed one

foot up on the chair. He rested Angel’s leg over his knee then pushed his member—which remained

stiff and workable—to the hilt inside him. Their position allowed for deeper penetration and Angel

instantly felt the added rush of ecstasy in his cock as Kurt was able to assault his prostate more

directly and intensely.

“Uuh!” Angel gasped and shuddered when Kurt pushed in harder.

“Feels good, huh?” There was a smile in Kurt’s voice as he began to thrust his cock in deep and

hard, stabbing Angel’s sweet spot. He didn’t take time to build up slowly but broke into dirty, wild

fucking almost instantly.

Angel nearly screamed and clawed the back of the chair, panting and grunting, his breath ripped

from his lungs as the man slammed his magic button relentlessly, huffing and puffing behind him, his

body already starting to lock up. “Fuck!” Kurt yelled.

No words could form in Angel’s constricted throat, simply unintelligible sounds and pants and

whimpers. Another scream swelled and he bit the chair as his cock burst, squirting cum all over the

cushions as he squealed, muffled, fingers gouging the fabric as Kurt pumped him hard then released a

wail and came in him a second time.

After a moment, Kurt slid his knee out from under Angel’s leg and the boy dropped against the

chair, sucking for air. Kurt chuckled. “Told you that you would come, and that it would be quick.” He

slid off the condom and dumped it in the trash on top of the other one. When Angel finally found the

strength to crawl off the chair, his legs barely held him. Kurt was dressing, and smiled at Angel.

“You’re quite the intense little fuck.”

Angel nodded, hands shaking as he reached for his shorts. “You too,” he smiled, eyes heavy with

exhaustion. He pulled on the shorts and Kurt cupped his face, kissing him firmly.

“I rather like you,” he murmured, then clucked his tongue. “I’m starting to regret this.”

Regret it? Angel started to ask him what he meant, but Kurt was already walking out,

disappearing through the door. Angel stared after him, frowning. Whatever, he paid me.

Angel picked up the thick collection of bills, folded them in half and stuffed them down his

shorts then left the VIP room. He didn’t want anyone—especially Cole or Gabe—to see the amount

he’d just made off Kurt. It wouldn’t take them only a moment to figure out just how he’d made that

much. If Max caught wind of his activities, he would be tossed out on his sweet ass. Max surely

realized that stuff like this happened from time to time, but he was employing dancers, not hookers.

The man wouldn’t stand for it.

* * *

“Hi ho, hi ho.” Axel snickered when Angel walked into the kitchen. “The little Ho is home.”

Wade rolled his eyes. “You’re a dumb ass.” He looked at Angel. “You got something for me

tonight?”

Again, Byrd sat at the table and all three men looked at Angel in a way that made him uneasy.

“Yeah,” he murmured and dug out the cash. He handed the folded bills to Wade.

Wade whistled low and unfolded the wad. “How much is this?”

“Two thousand,” Angel said quietly. A few more customers like Kurt and Lex, and he and

Maddy could make a run for it with a healthy stash. “Tomorrow night they’re anticipating a packed

crowd. It should be a good night.”

“Great.” Wade’s lips merely twitched as he thumbed through the cash. “You’re doing good.

Keep it up.”

Byrd just watched him silently, rather than making sexual remarks. For some reason, that

unnerved Angel more than his suggestive invitations. “I’m going to bed,” he whispered and turned

around to leave. Wade’s chair shot back suddenly and crashed to the floor as the man jumped to his

feet. Angel didn’t have time to react or even register what was happening before he was slammed

against the wall hard enough to empty his lungs.

“You fucking little bastard!”

Angel fought to catch his breath, tears rising and spilling over. “What?” he gasped.

“Where is it, you little fuck? Huh?”

“What?” Angel cried.

Wade shoved his face close to Angel’s, his breath reeking of liquor and stale cigarettes. “The

other thousand?”

Angel’s eyes widened with quiet horror. “Wh-what?”

Growling, Wade shoved him hard again then his hands were all over him, riffling through his

pockets. Terror gripped Angel when he found the rest of the cash and jerked it out of his pocket.

“This!” He slapped him across the face with the money. “How long, you little motherfucker? How

long have you been stealing from me?”

Angel just stared at him wide-eyed in stark terror. His throat closed and he couldn’t speak.

“Where’s the other money you’ve stolen, huh?” Wade demanded. Axel and Byrd stood up from

the table and a renewed terror rushed over him. “You’re hiding it somewhere, aren’t you? Where is

it?”

Tears streaked Angel’s face. He couldn’t speak. Wade slapped his face and he cried.

“Maybe Maddy knows,” Byrd spoke up, his eyes cold as a smirk jerked across his lips. “Maybe

I’ll go,” he squeezed his own crotch, “ask him?”

Chapter Eleven

Angels & Demons

“I’m worried about him.”

Gabe peeled off his shirt then unfastened his pants. “Who?”

His gaze locked on Gabe’s fingers as he unzipped his trousers, he murmured, “Angel.” Despite

his deep rooted concern for the boy, he nevertheless couldn’t keep his pulse from spiking as Gabe

shoved his pants down and tugged them off his feet. His white Calvin Kleins contrasted nicely with

his tanned skin, and hugged his precious jewels quit wonderfully.

“Did you talk to him tonight?” Tossing the pants on the back of a chair, Gabe came to the bed

where Cole lay on top of the blankets, stripped down to his underwear as well.

“Yeah.”

“And?”

“And he said he was fine,” Cole told him. “He even sounded convincing.”

“But you don’t think he is fine?” Gabe flopped on the bed next to him and absently tucked his

arms under his head and looked at Cole.

“No. I don’t think he is.” He turned onto his side. “You didn’t see him yesterday. Ricky said he

was crying and breaking down when he found him in the restroom. And he lost it when I talked to him.

Whatever happened with him and Dane totally fucked him up.”

“But he was fine tonight?”

“He said he was fine,” Cole corrected. “But it was more like that—I’m holding everything in

and burying it deep—kind of fine. Which isn’t fucking fine at all.”

Gabe twisted onto his side facing him. “But what can you do? If he’s going to insist he’s okay,

then he won’t talk about it.”

“I wish Dane would just tell us what the fuck went down,” he muttered.

“Well,” Gabe poked a fingertip in Cole chest. “Maybe if you hadn’t rushed in there full of

assumptions and accusations, maybe he would have been a bit more open to the notion of talking to

us.”

“I know, I know,” Cole grumbled and rolled onto his back again, staring at the ceiling. He

sighed. “Maybe I should give it another go.” He looked at Gabe, brow arched. “Be nicer this time?”

“Don’t hurt to try.” Gabe nodded then chuckled. “Well, it might hurt—if he’s still pissed at you. I

know you’re a big tough boy, but I sure as hell wouldn’t want to be in front of Dane’s fists of fury.”

Cole shook his head. “Me neither.”

“Since there’s nothing we can do about this tonight,” Gabe rolled over, scooting on top of Cole,

stretching out over the length of his body, “I believe you told me I could be a bad, bad boy when we

got home.”

Cole groaned. “I believe I did.” His hands went down inside the back of Gabe’s Calvin Kleins

and massaged his hard rump. “So, just how bad are you feeling tonight?”

A dark glint snapped through Gabe’s baby blues. “Like the devil himself.”

* * *

“No!” Angel screamed when Byrd left the kitchen. He fought Wade’s grip but it was iron and

pinned him to the wall. “No! Don’t you touch him, you motherfucker! I’ll kill you! You fucker! No!”

“That’s the price you pay,” Wade snarled.

“No!” Angel cried, turning his focus on Wade. “Please don’t let him hurt Maddy! Please! I’ll tell

you where it is! I will! Please, Wade! God! Don’t let him! ” The bedroom door kicked open hard and

then Maddy screamed for him. “Maddy!” Angel panicked, fighting Wade. “You fuckers! Don’t you let

him hurt Maddy! God damn you!”

He was suddenly being shoved down the narrow, short hall. “Show me!” Wade ordered.

Angel burst into the bedroom, surging ahead of Wade. Byrd had a terrified Maddy pinned to the

mattress as he hovered over him on hands and knees, lust burning on his face. He was grinning and

telling Maddy, “Guess big brother fucked up this time—” A sudden, hard grunt exploded from him

and he toppled over as Angel’s foot nailed him in the crotch, knocking him off his little brother. Byrd

dropped, clutching his groin, sucking for air.

“Angel!” Maddy choked, crying uncontrollably, on the bare edge of hyperventilating.

His knees hit the mattress and he grabbed Maddy, dragging him into his tight, protective

embrace, glaring at the men. “Don’t fucking touch him!”

Wade stepped forward as Axel entered the room behind him. “Unless you want to watch Maddy

get raped five ways from Sunday, you’d better fucking tell me where the money is right fucking

now!”

“You little fuck!” Byrd gasped, still gripping his crotch, panting. “I swear to god I’ll fucking rip

you a new one.”

“Just back off,” Wade told him, his eyes boring into Angel. “You’ll get your chance.” He stepped

up closer to the bed. “Where is it?”

It was over and Angel knew it, their only chance of escaping being ripped from their hands.

Maddy shook in his arms, crying. Angel hugged him tighter, crying with him. “It’s over there,” he

choked, nodding toward the corner of the room. “Inside the wall.”

Nodding at Axel, Wade muttered, “Check it out.”

Axel found the jar and brought it to Wade then looked dryly at Angel. “You’re a real dumb fuck,

you know that?”

Wade unscrewed the lid and let it drop to the floor then dug out the bills, counting them. “Almost

a thousand dollars,” he murmured then raised his eyes slowly to Angel as a slow smirk curved his

lips. “What were you going to do—run away?” He snorted.

The man’s mocking face blurred and distorted before Angel. Emptiness invaded his heart,

hollowing him out. Maddy sagged in his arms and he knew the boy felt it too; they were caught,

trapped—with no way of escape.

Wade sighed and stuffed the cash in his pocket. He thrust the jar, with loose change, at Axel then

crossed his arms over his chest and stared at the two boys. “This is an unfortunate turn of events. For

you.” He glanced at Byrd who was crawling to his feet. “Just so this doesn’t happen again...”

“It won’t,” Angel choked, hugging Maddy tighter. “I swear, Wade. It won’t.”

“You lied to me before. Why should I believe you now?”

“I promise; I won’t steal from you again.” Angel’s eyes darted to Byrd fearfully.

“Like fuck you won’t,” Byrd rasped, straightening up, nearly fully recovered. “You’re just a

filthy lying little whore.”

Angel knew he wasn’t getting out of this, but right now all that mattered was keeping Maddy

safe.

Byrd took a step toward them. “I think we should fuck the little one to show them both what

happens when they lie and steal.”

Whimpering, Maddy sunk back against Angel, shaking hard. “No.” Angel struggled to keep it

together, but he was terrified they would do just what Byrd suggested. “Maddy had nothing to do with

this. He—he didn’t even know I was taking the money. I wasn’t going to tell him until I had enough

saved up.”

“To run away?” Wade drawled.

Angel lowered his head. “Yes,” he whispered, then looked up, tears sliding down his face. “He

didn’t do anything wrong. It was me. Just me. Please, Wade, don’t, I’ll do anything, just...” He buried

his face in Maddy’s hair as the boy twisted around and held onto him, crying, shaking uncontrollably.

Stepping forward quickly, Wade grabbed Maddy and yanked him out of Angel’s grip. The boy

screamed and clawed to hold onto to Angel.

“No!” Angel lunged forward and was knocked back instantly by Byrd’s fist to his chest,

dropping him hard on the mattress, gasping, the wind knocked out of him.

Wade shoved Maddy at Axel. “Hold him,” he said coldly and peeled off his shirt. “He can watch

and see what happens to boys who misbehave.”

Scrambling back against the wall, Angel’s breath came quickly and erratically, eyes wide. “No,

don’t make him watch, Wade,” he cried. “Please!”

“The boy’s gotta learn.” Wade walked onto the mattress, grabbed the front of Angel’s shirt and

jerked him up then threw him down on his own bed. Angel hit with a grunt then rolled close to the

wall, scooting up again. Maddy screamed for him but Axel held him securely. Wade unfastened his

pants then glanced at Byrd. “Strip him,” he said. “I’ll even give you first dibs, since he crushed your

nuts. No need to be gentle.”

Angel’s clothes were ripped off him, and then he was shoved face first into the mattress, a strong

hand gripping the back of his neck, holding him down as he was penetrated with force. He screamed

as the past flooded back over him; shoved to the stage on his hands and knees, the whip wrapped

around his throat as he was held in place by the second masked man while the first guy continued

his assault.

A familiar panic surged through his veins.

Chapter Twelve

Eyes on Heaven

“What do you want?” Dane leaned against the door frame, the front door open a few bare inches.

His head buzzed and throbbed, and mouth tasted like something akin to rancid apples. Cole’s face

was a haze through the crack in the door.

“I want to talk to you,” Cole said. “Apologize for yesterday.”

“Apology accepted,” Dane mumbled. “Can I go back to sleep now?” His entire body felt

weighted and, if he let himself, he was sure he would just drop to the floor right there.

“No,” Cole shoved his way in then took a better look at him. “Damn. Go take a shower, put on

some fresh clothes and let’s go do something. Get out of this fucking apartment for a while.”

Go take a shower. He glanced toward the stairs. He hadn’t set foot up there. Luckily he had a

downstairs bathroom with all the beer he’d been drinking. But the bathroom on the first floor

consisted of only a toilet and sink, no shower or tub. “I don’t want to go out.” He closed the door and

walked back to the sofa where he had crashed last night.

Cole surveyed the living room area; crumpled blanket on the sofa, empty beer bottles on the

coffee table and some on the floor, a half empty bottle of scotch. “I see you’ve been—productive with

your time off.”

“I’m not taking time off,” Dane dropped down on the sofa with a grunt. “I quit.”

“And have you given any thought as to how you’re gonna pay your rent? Lights? Etcetera?” Cole

perched on the arm of the sofa.

Shrugging, Dane grabbed the bottle of scotch. “Don’t know, don’t care.” He tipped up the bottle

when Cole snatched it out of his hand. Dane scowled. “I really wish people would quit fucking doing

that.”

“Well, maybe they would,” Cole said and set the bottle on the end table out of Dane’s reach, “if

you would call a cease fire on this war you’re waging on your liver.” He looked at Dane. “Now

you’re starting to smell, so go take a shower. Then we’re getting out of this damn apartment.”

He’d been friends with Cole long enough by now to know the guy wouldn’t take no for an

answer. “Fuck,” Dane groaned and crawled to his feet. “Fine. Whatever.” But when his feet touched

the stairs, they stalled, his hand gripping the thin metal rail until his veins bulged.

“What’s wrong?” Cole asked from the sofa.

Clearing his throat, Dane shook his head, blinking against the sudden well of tears. “Nothing,” he

mumbled and started up the stairs. He had to walk through the loft bedroom to get to the bathroom,

and he did so as quickly as possible, eyes averted from the bed and staring at the floor until he was

safely behind the bathroom door.

His chest hurt from the sudden quickening of his heart rate and erratic breathing. He gripped the

edge of the sink and looked at himself in the mirror. “You look like shit,” he whispered to his

reflection. Bloodshot eyes, hair a mess, dark circles starting to form under his eyes. His skin was

pale, and tacky to the touch. He’d slept in his clothes and they felt clingy, grimy with sweat.

Shedding the offensive garments, he stepped into the shower. It felt good, but there were

memories of Angel in here as well. The boy’s loving touch, his warm, soft mouth taking care of him

so well. “Fuck.” He choked and smacked the tiled wall. “Dammit!” Tears mingled with the water and

rushed down his face. “God! Why?” he cried. “Why him? Why?!”

When he left the shower, his eyes were still red, but from crying rather than the alcohol. He

towel dried and returned to the bedroom, refusing to look at the bed. He dug out clean clothes and

dressed quickly then descended the stairs, a hard breath escaping him in relief to be back down on the

first floor. He could barely breathe up there. There was no way he could sleep in his bed.

Cole looked him over when he returned, then stepped close and sniffed him. “Much better,” he

smiled.

“Clearly, no one taught you about respecting personal space,” Dane grumbled.

“Considering our job,” he said, “respecting personal space really isn’t my thing.”

“Your job,” Dane corrected.

Cole just looked at him. “You’re not quitting.”

“Already did.”

“Well you can just un-quit,” Cole told him. “You’re not fucking leaving the club.”

Dane finger-combed his damp hair. “You gonna hogtie me and drag me down there every night?

Be my puppet master and make me dance for the customers?”

“If I have to,” Cole smirked.

Shaking his head, Dane dragged his hand over his mouth, lips tightening. “I can’t go back, Cole,”

he said seriously.

“Why?” Cole asked emphatically. “Fuck, man, why won’t you talk to me? Tell me what the hell

is going on? Since when can’t you trust me?”

Dane sighed and shook his head again. “It isn’t about trust,” he murmured. “I do trust you. I just

can’t talk about it.”

“Why not?”

“I just can’t, okay?” he snapped, voice straining. He shoved his hand through his hair. “Fuck.”

“All right,” Cole said softly. “I won’t push. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to let you just fade

out of our lives either. So, if you won’t come to us, then we’ll come to you.” He smacked his back

lightly and opened the door. “So I hope you weren’t planning on too much alone time to sulk.”

* * *

His body hurt, but Angel did his best to hide how much—for Maddy’s sake. Not that the boy was

even really aware. What Wade and Byrd had done to Angel right in front of Maddy had traumatized

the boy. He seemed detached from his surroundings as he sat on his bed and stared blankly at the

wall.

“Maddy?” Angel murmured, throat tight. The boy blinked and his eyes shifted slightly, though he

didn’t look at Angel. Still it gave him some hope that his little brother was still there. He had

screamed and cried and fought against Axel’s grip for the duration of Angel’s assault, and when they

had finished and Axel threw Maddy down on his bed, the boy had continued to cry and wail even

after the three men left the bedroom. When he’d finally fallen into a troubled sleep, he’d whimpered

and sobbed till almost dawn.

Angel had tried to stay awake, terrified of the men getting high and coming back, maybe taking a

turn at Maddy after all. But the pain and exhaustion of both body and mind had pulled him under.

When he’d awakened this morning, he found Maddy like this, just sitting and staring at nothing,

seeming to have regressed back to the young boy he had been when all this had started.

Crawling across to Maddy’s bed, Angel moved slowly, with effort. He touched the boy’s arm.

“Maddy?” The kid flinched hard and jerked away, whimpering. Angel drew back. “Maddy, it’s okay.

It’s just me—Angel.” He touched him again tentatively. “Come on, bud. Let’s go for a walk, get out of

the apartment. I’ll tell Wade I’m taking you to work, but you don’t have to go to work. We’ll just walk

around.” Maddy didn’t pull away this time, but there was still tension in his body when Angel

touched him. Oh god, Maddy, please be okay. You’re all I have.

He stood up slowly, wincing at the pain and biting back a whimper, then gently urged Maddy

onto his feet and led him out of the bedroom. At the living room, he walked him to the sofa then

glanced quickly at the men in the kitchen. “I’m taking Maddy to work,” he said quietly and ushered

him toward the door.

“After last night,” Wade said, “I shouldn’t even let you two little fuckers out of the apartment

together.”

“I’m just taking him to work,” Angel murmured.

Wade stood up and Angel’s guts tightened. The man walked to the edge of the kitchen and

stopped. “You fuck me over again—in any way—and next time you get to watch.” He cocked an

eyebrow. “You hearing me?”

“Yes,” Angel whispered, throat closing. Byrd stared at him with a heavy look in his eyes that

urged him to fuck up again so he could get at Maddy. The images conjured up at such a thought nearly

caused Angel to vomit right there. If they ever did that to Maddy, the boy wouldn’t come back from it.

And neither would Angel.

Wade grunted and returned to the table. Angel didn’t waste time getting Maddy out of the

apartment, though it was merely a brief reprieve. They weren’t really getting away. And Angel feared

they never would. I should have just taken what money I had and ran. But hindsight did him no

good.

The day was overcast, unlike yesterday which had been warm and sunny. It seemed fitting

somehow; yesterday they had been full of hope of a new life soon to be theirs, and today all hope was

gone, their future bleak. Even horrifying. The temptation to just take Maddy now and keep walking,

and never go back, was almost irresistible. Maybe they could get away before Wade realized they

had run.

And how will I get out of the city without a fucking cent to my name? What if I run into one of

Byrd’s or Wade’s friends on the streets? I don’t even know who their friends are. It could be

anyone. If Wade caught me...

Angel looked at Maddy. His eyes were still blank as he moved forward numbly, his face half

concealed beneath the hood of his sweater. If they ever punished Maddy as they had punished Angel

last night...

No. I can’t take that chance. I can’t.

When they came to a weather-faded wooden bench at a bus stop corner, Maddy sat down and

stared at the ground. “Maddy?” Angel sat next to him. The boy didn’t reply, but his eyes shifted,

following a discarded candy bar wrapper as the light breeze skidded it across the hard surface of the

sidewalk then flattened it against the base of the bus stop sign.

“Do you believe in heaven?” Maddy whispered so softly and quietly that Angel had to strain to

hear him above the noise of traffic. “Do you think people go to heaven when they die?”

A quiet fear squeezed Angel’s heart. “I don’t know, Maddy. I’m not sure what I believe.” The

truth was Angel had stopped believing in God five years ago on that stage in that shitty little club.

And even if God did exist, he didn’t give a fuck about them.

“I believe in heaven,” Maddy whispered. “It’s possible, isn’t it?” He finally looked at Angel,

and what he saw in the boy’s eyes broke him. “It’s possible it exists, isn’t it?”

“Maddy,” Angel said thickly, eyes stinging. “Why are you asking me this?”

Tears welled up in the boy’s eyes. “I want to go there, Angel.” His chin quivered and the tears

began slide down his face. “I want to go there—with you.”

“Maddy...” the kid’s face blurred before him as Angel’s throat closed.

“Please take me there, Angel,” he trembled and stared at Angel, eyes pleading. “We could go

there together—we could go right now.”

“Maddy, don’t talk like this,” Angel choked. “Please...”

“It would be okay,” Maddy began to cry softly. “It would. Please, Angel, take me there. Please.”

Angel pulled Maddy into his arms and hugged him tightly, shaking, crying. Don’t do this to me,

Maddy. Please don’t do this to me.

“Angel?”

Looking up, face streaked with tears, Angel found Cole standing in front of the bench, face tight

with concern. And, behind him, stood Dane.

Chapter Thirteen

Wounded Angels

“Angel? What’s wrong?”

Cole’s voice sounded distant, muffled in Dane’s ears. His entire focus was on Angel’s tear-

streaked face, the sobs of the younger boy in his arms, and the total despair in his crystal white eyes.

As soon as Angel noticed them, Dane could almost visibly see the wall go up, the door slam shut,

locking them out. He wiped his eyes quickly. “Nothing,” there was a determination in his voice, but it

was unable to override the fear and hurt thickening his words. “We’re fine. Just—go away.”

This is my fault. He won’t trust Cole now because of me.

But as Dane had come to learn during his friendship with the man, Cole was not so easily

deterred. He glanced at the bus stop sign. “Are you waiting for the bus?” he asked as if the kid hadn’t

just dismissed him. “If you need to go somewhere, we can take you.”

“Leave us alone.” Angel stood and Dane didn’t miss the pinch in his face that resembled pain.

He lifted the younger boy to his feet. “Come on, Maddy,” he whispered.

Maddy. Dane’s heart stalled as he stared at the young boy. The hood of his sweater was over his

head, concealing a portion of his face, but Dane caught a glimpse of dark bangs hanging down over

his forehead, and a steady stream of tears coursing down his cheeks. His eyes remained downcast,

looking at neither him nor Cole.

“Angel,” Cole tried again, “If something is wrong, then tell us. We’ll help.”

Dane almost missed it, the way the younger boy’s head came up just a fraction, eyes shifting

quickly from the concrete to Angel’s face with a glint of hopefulness. And then for the briefest

moment—that felt like an eternity of torment—Angel’s eyes were on Dane’s face. “What the fuck do

you care?” His words were directed at Cole, but everything behind them was being hurtled at Dane.

Then he looked away, but the wounds those hurt-filled eyes had caused remained; open and bleeding.

“We do care, Angel,” Cole insisted.

The stiff, labored movement of Angel’s body was frighteningly reminiscent of Caleb when Dane

had found him lying face down on his bed, just after...

Without thinking, Dane stepped forward and gripped Angel’s arm lightly, “Angel, did something

happen—”

Angel jerked away from him as if his touch were fire. “Don’t fucking touch me!” he cried and

stepped back, drawing Maddy with him. “Don’t ever touch me again.” His chin trembled and all the

hurt and anger Dane had instilled in the boy bubbled to the surface. “You’re not my friends! I hate

you! Just leave me alone!” Angel tightened his arm around the younger boy and walked away.

“Angel!” Cole called after him but he didn’t slow or turn. But Maddy cast them one last glance, a

plea in his eyes that Dane didn’t understand but which filled him with foreboding. To go after Angel

now, though, would just shove the boy further away, cause him to resist them even harder. Still his

heart screamed at him to not just let them walk away, but he couldn’t move. I hate you. He hadn’t

been talking to Cole.

“You.” Swallowing hard, vision blurred, Dane forced his eyes off Angel and Maddy, and looked

at Cole. A finger was jabbed at him. “You are going to tell me what the fuck is going on. And you’re

going to tell me now.”

* * *

His legs didn’t want to hold but he forced them to keep walking. He wouldn’t look back.

Couldn’t. That look in Dane’s eyes—that cried out that he still cared, that Angel still mattered to him

—if he faced it again, he would break and crawl into the man’s arms, beg him to take him and Maddy

away from here. But he had trusted that look once, had trusted the man’s words – and Dane had used

him and thrown him away like a piece of discarded trash. Only a great fool walked back into the same

trap he’d been caught in before and expected his head not to be snapped off again, his heart ripped

out.

“Maybe they could—” Maddy started.

“No,” Angel choked, “They’re not our friends.” Even as the words fell from his lips, Angel’s

heart resisted them. They felt wrong—untrue. The further he walked away from the men, the sicker he

felt as if he were turning his back on the only life raft in the midst of a raging flood.

“Are—are we going back to the apartment?” The depth of fear in Maddy’s voice crippled Angel.

“No.” he shook his head. “Not yet.” He had told Wade he was taking Maddy to work. The owner

of the small market had agreed to give Maddy a job, but his lack of enthusiasm had insinuated he

could care less if Maddy showed up or not. Angel didn’t want him at the apartment though, not any

more than he had to be. He stopped walking and looked at his little brother. “Do you still want that

job? It would keep you out of the apartment for a while each day.”

The boy was hardly in any condition to go to work, but anything was better than being back home

with Wade, Axel and Byrd.

Maddy sniffed then wiped his face. “I can work,” he whispered. “I don’t want to be at the

apartment.”

“Okay,” Angel murmured. “Let’s get back to the market then. Hopefully the owner won’t be too

mad about you showing up late.”

* * *

Gabe was sitting on the sofa staring distantly at the cellphone in his hand when Max entered his

office. “Everything all right?” Max walked to his desk.

His sudden presence startled Gabe and the guy flinched then looked up. “Uh, yeah,” he cleared

his throat and stood up, stuffing his phone in his pocket. “Sorry about—”

Max waved his hand absently. “That’s fine. You can use my office whenever.”

“I’ll get out of your way.” Gabe stepped toward the door, eyes evasive, troubled.

“Are you sure everything is okay?” Max posed and leaned against the front of his desk. “You

seem kind of distracted lately.”

“No, it’s—nothing.”

Lips tight, Max nodded slowly. “Mmm-hm. And have you by any chance talked to Cole about this

nothing?”

Gabe shook his head. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Gabe,” Max said quietly when the young man reached for the door, halting him. “When you

came to the Phoenix, our relationship was based on trust. You told me where you came from. Do you

remember?”

“Yes,” Gabe murmured and faced him.

“Does this nothing—have anything to do with that?”

Sighing, Gabe rubbed his eyes. “Maybe,” he admitted quietly, reluctantly. “But I can handle it. I

don’t need to involve anyone; and especially not Cole.”

“You know Cole has your back, right?” Max asked. Cole was a man who wouldn’t blink at

giving his life for a friend. And for the man he loved? Nothing would hold him back.

“I know,” Gabe whispered. “I just don’t want him caught up in it. It has nothing to do with him,

and I want it to stay that way.”

Max’s brow pinched. “You don’t want them to know he’s someone special to you.”

“No,” A thickness squeezed Gabe’s voice. “I won’t let them use him as leverage.”

Max understood. Gabe was trying to protect the man he loved. But, in doing so, would he also

harm his relationship with Cole? Max was tuned in to the way Cole looked at the guy every now and

then, as if he were well aware his boyfriend was keeping secrets from him. Cole was big on trust—

both ways. If he started to think that Gabe didn’t trust him, it could cause severe damage to this

beautiful thing they had going.

“Gabe—”

The door opened with a single brief knock. “Hey, boss?” Carl leaned in, glanced at Gabe then

back to Max. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I think you should hear this.”

Max frowned. “Is something wrong?”

Carl entered and closed the door. “I think we got us a fisher out there.”

A fisher. That’s what they called the pimps who came into the clubs fishing for customers to turn

on to whichever dancer they had planted within the club. “Are you sure?”

Carl cocked his head then nodded, “Pretty sure. But I don’t think he realizes that a lot of the club

owners are wise to the likes of him. He isn’t being overly discreet; he’s talking to the customers right

out in the open.”

“Show me.” Max walked to the door, opened it and stepped out. Gabe and Carl followed as Carl

pointed the man out at the end of the bar, in deep conversation with a nicely dressed customer. He

was decent enough looking, short black hair, neatly trimmed facial scruff. Max frowned. “I don’t think

I’ve seen him in here before.”

“I have,” Gabe spoke up, “a few nights ago. He was with another guy, younger.”

“You talk to him?” Max asked.

Gabe smiled, “Sort of.”

Carl nodded. “I remember him, too. And they sure as hell weren’t in here for the entertainment,”

he smirked.

Fuck. Max released a hard breath. “So we’ve got a piranha in our little fish bowl, I’m guessing.”

He looked at Gabe. “Did he give his name?”

Nodding, Gabe murmured, “Called himself Wade.”

* * *

“Do you really need any more of that?” Cole looked doubtful, even disapproving when Dane

grabbed a bottle scotch off the shelf. He had tried to deter Dane from entering the liquor store, but to

no avail.

“Look,” Dane muttered and took the bottle to the counter. “If you’re going to insist I tell you

everything, I’m sure as hell not doing it sober.”

The man was serious, and Cole suspected he might not get the story out of him if he were sober.

Dane paid for the liquor and grabbed up the small paper bag the cashier had stuffed the bottle inside

of—as if anyone would be fooled as to the contents.

Dane had the bottle open and was taking samples before they ever reached his apartment.

Whatever the guy was holding inside must be a hell of a doozy. He had never known Dane to be this

heavy of a drinker, even at his worst.

When they entered the apartment, Dane went straight to the sofa and dropped down, bottle

gripped in his fist, downing another healthy swallow.

“Ease up a bit.” Cole sat down next to him. “I at least want to be able to understand you when

you speak.”

“No you don’t,” Dane whispered and held the bottle in his lap, staring blankly. There was a

sudden sheen to his eyes. “Trust me.” He tipped it up again and Cole didn’t interfere. The man was

hurting—not just over recent events but something much deeper. So Cole waited patiently, giving him

time to find his words. It took a little while, a few more gulps of Scotch, before Dane finally spoke.

“When I took Caleb to visit Nick,” he murmured with a rasp. “I told him the condensed version of my

life story. The same stuff you and Gabe know as well.”

Cole nodded silently.

“I even told him about my first time,” he excreted a laugh, quite humorlessly. “I told him it was

with another stripper in some sleazy little club. That it was the first time that the things I did made me

feel—dirty.” He sniffed and took a small drink from the bottle then rubbed his mouth. “I told him it

was why I quit that club and didn’t strip again until I came to the Phoenix.”

“That’s what you basically told us too,” Cole said quietly.

The sheen in Dane’s dark eyes thickened. He wouldn’t look at Cole. “That wasn’t true,” he

whispered thickly and closed his eyes as a tear squeezed out and weaved slowly down his cheek.

“That isn’t why I left that club.”

Chapter Fourteen

Scent of Heaven

“Should I throw him out on his ass?” Gabe asked, taking a step forward, prepared to follow

through.

Max grabbed his arm. “No,” he murmured. “Let him be for now. He’s got someone in here

posing as a dancer, and I need to know who it is. Let him think he’s getting away with his little ploy.

Maybe he’ll inadvertently lead us to the impostor.” He looked at Gabe and Carl. “Don’t be obvious,

but keep an eye on him, see which of our boys he seems to be taking the most interest in. Even if he

tries to play disinterested, if he sees his guy, it’ll show on his face.”

“Who the hell would it be?” Carl wondered. “All the boys here seem very loyal to you.”

“Some people know how to perfect the act,” Max said quietly, a note of disappointment in his

voice. He’d always done right by his boys. As far as he knew, he’d never had an out-and-out

prostitute working his club. Like Carl, he couldn’t fathom who it might be. But when he found out—

and he would find out—the guy would have to be turned loose and not allowed back in. The thought

of having to send any of his boys away twisted his guts. But then, if they were in here only under the

guise of being a dancer, then clearly they were never really one of his own.

* * *

The apartment was empty. Angel hadn’t wanted to come back, but after his encounter with Cole

and Dane, he was a little afraid of where his feet would take him if he kept walking. The market

owner hadn’t seemed to care that Maddy was late and immediately put him to work stocking shelves.

Angel knew the boy would prefer to work at night, for the duration that Angel was at work, but the

owner wasn’t looking for someone to work that shift. His hours would fluctuate, and some days he

would work the early evening, getting home an hour or so after Angel went to work.

Angel went to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. His body hurt and walking around hadn’t

helped ease the pain. He leaned on the door of the refrigerator and looked at the contents. Beer

occupied most of the shelves, and some lunch meat, eggs. Not a whole hell of a lot else. Neither he

nor Maddy ate like they should, but there wasn’t much he could do about that. Angel stared at the

bottles of beer, and then took one out. His chest was tight, and hurt like hell from being so close to

Dane again.

Don’t fucking act like you care about me . Tears welled up at the memory of that look in Dane’s

eyes. That look that said he did give a damn. “Go to hell, asshole,” he whispered thickly and opened

the beer. He hated the taste of alcohol, even the smell of it, but right now he didn’t care. He took a

drink, grimaced and coughed, then took another. He kept at it until the bottle was empty. Certain he

was headed for a puke-fest; he nevertheless grabbed a second bottle and worked down the contents.

Not used to drinking, he was beginning to feel the buzz when he took to his third beer. But a buzz

wasn’t what he was after—so when bottle number three emptied down his throat, he went for a fourth.

He walked down the hall to the bedroom and leaned against the door frame staring at the two

mattresses, the milk crate between them for a stand. He spied the hole in the corner of the room. It’s

all gone. Every cent. We’re never fucking getting out of here. And one day, they’re gonna fuck

Maddy, too, and I won’t be able to do shit about it . Tears rolled down his face as he continued to

drink and just stare into the shabby room. Maybe you’re right, Maddy. Maybe heaven does exist—

and we could go there. Even if there was a God and he wouldn’t allow Angel in—He would let

Maddy in. And what difference did it make if he sent Angel to hell? He was already there.

Angel went back to the living room and dropped down on the old sofa, bottle in hand, eyes heavy

and stomach churning. But the bottle continued to make the trip to his lips. If nothing else, the alcohol

was dulling the pain in his body. He sniffed and wiped at his tears as Dane’s face rose up in his mind.

If things had gone differently between them, maybe he could’ve, somehow, helped him and Maddy get

free. But he had ended up using Angel like all the other men. “How could you fucking do that?” he

choked. “I trusted you.” His arm raked across his face and broken sobs tore up his throat. “I could’ve

loved you—you motherfucker.” He winged the bottle at the wall where it shattered, the remaining

beer splattering the ugly paint job. “You fuck!” he cried and doubled over, hugging his stomach.

The events of last night hit him suddenly and he screamed and kicked the coffee table, knocking it

on its side. “Fuckers!” He shook and stood up, legs unsteady, head spinning a little. “I hate you all, I

fucking hate you!” When he searched though, it was Dane’s face dominating his mind once more.

“You never gave a fuck.”

He walked to the door on rubbery legs and jerked it open, leaving the apartment again. He didn’t

want to be there when Wade and the others came back. With a few beers in him, he was afraid of

what he might say or do—for which Maddy would surely suffer.

* * *

Cole listened in relative silence, though Dane wondered if it was merely to allow him to speak

uninterrupted, or if the man didn’t know how the hell to respond to what Dane was telling him. He

didn’t know how he got the words out, although the scotch helped in loosening his tongue and giving

him courage. But even with the liquid courage, he was sickened and even scared shitless to confess

out loud. Still he did it, recounting that horrific night that took a piece of his soul and never returned

it.

His head was in his hands, sobs raking his throat raw, wanting to puke. Cole touched his back

then his arm went around him. “Are you sure?” he whispered, voice thick, wet. “Are you sure it was

him?”

“Yes,” Dane choked. “It was Angel—it was.” He stood to his feet quickly, a rush of sobs

bursting out. “God! Fuck!” His fingers twisted in his hair. “What the hell? What the fucking hell?!”

“Easy.” Cole was standing beside him, gripping his arm. “Take it easy, man.”

“Fuck!” Hearing the words out loud, it made it worse, made it more real. “Oh god, how could

I...” He sank to his knees on the floor and gripped his head, crying. “How could I? My Angel, my

perfect angel.”

Cole helped him back to the sofa and Dane lay down, face in his arms. Sobs shook his body.

“It’s gonna be all right,” Cole said softly and stroked his hair. “We’ll figure out what to do; how

to talk to Angel.”

“No,” Dane choked and pressed his face harder against his arms. “No, he can’t find out. I can’t

tell him. Just let him think that I used him. Let him hate me for that—it’s better than...”

Cole slid his fingers through Dane’s black hair. “You’re in love with the boy, Dane,” he said

quietly. “And that isn’t gonna go away. This has to be dealt with.”

Sitting up, Dane shook his head then dropped it in his hands as his elbows ground into his knees.

Nausea ebbed at the edge of his guts and pinched his stomach until he was sure he would puke.

“There’s nothing to deal with,” Dane whispered. “I can’t be with him.”

That reality, spoken aloud, was a punch straight to his heart, knocking the wind out of him; Angel

was forever lost to him.

“Dane...”

Dane raised his head. “Can you honestly sit there and tell me this isn’t totally fucked up?”

“No,” Cole admitted quietly. “But—”

“No buts,” Dane shook his head, swallowing hard. “It’s over. You asked me to tell you what

happened, and I did. Now,” his head fell back into his hands and he whispered thickly, “just please

leave.”

* * *

The sidewalk blurred and swayed and Angel’s steps were unsteady, disjointed. Anyone

watching him would guess he was drunk, or high. It wasn’t so much the alcohol consumption that

fucked up his feet, but the crippling ache in his heart that spread out through his body, causing the

physical pain to resurface and pulse. He felt like Chicken Little, wanting to run down the street

screaming ‘The sky is falling! The sky is falling!’ Because that’s exactly how it felt to Angel just then

—everything was crashing down on him as if the world itself were crumbling.

Faces distorted in his mind, focused for a moment, only to be replaced by another. Wade telling

him if he fucked him over again, then next time he got to watch as Maddy was raped. Byrd’s sneering

grin as he shoved him down on the bed and fucked him as if it were his right. And Dane, thrusting him

out of his car, his life, telling him that all the love they had just made meant nothing to him—it wasn’t

love at all.

And the men on that stage—taking everything from him, turning him into what he was today; just

a whore to be fucked.

Angel didn’t know where he was going, or that he even had a destination in mind – until he

sagged against the door. His cheek pressed to the cool, hard surface as hot tears seeped out. He knew

now where he was and why he was here, but when he tried to knock, his hand refused to obey. He

slid down the door into a heap on the floor, hugged himself and cried quietly. There was nothing for

him on the other side of that door, though his heart screamed for it.

What am I going to do? Go crawling back? Beg him to love me? I’m so fucking pathetic! He

doesn’t love me! And why should he? I’m worthless! I’m fucking trash to be thrown away!

“I’m nothing to him,” Angel whispered, words breaking. He stared blankly at the narrow crack at

the bottom of the door. His fingers pressed against the floor and he could feel the warmth seeping out.

I can turn down the thermostat, if it’s too warm . Tears dripped off his face, landing on the back of

his hand. Along with the warmth, the memories seeped out as well.

‘The money can cause a boy to use bad judgment.’

‘I’m not a whore—I’m a dancer.’

“Liar,” the word slipped off Angel’s lips, barely audible.

‘Now take off the shirt, real slow—real sexy.’

‘Keep the rhythm—never stop moving, stay with the music.’

Angel closed his eyes, squeezing them tightly, pushing out the tears as he felt Dane’s hands on

him again, rubbing, caressing, guiding. And in those dark eyes, all he’d seen was desire, adoration—

and love.

‘Relax, baby—let me just savor you.’

A sob lodged in his throat, choking him. He covered his mouth with his hand to stifle the sound

but couldn’t stop the cries from pushing up his throat.

‘Let’s take a shower, then come back and make love till we pass out.’

Angel flattened his hand against the door and slowly crawled to his feet, his sobs coming harder.

He hadn’t said ‘fuck till we pass out’. He had said make love. He’d used the fucking word itself

—love. Even when he said it, Dane had known it was a lie; he wasn’t making love to Angel. He was

just fucking him.

Pushing away from the door, Angel took two unsteady steps then turned back suddenly and hit the

door with his fist, beating at the hard surface as the pain inside erupted forth in a cry of rage. When

the door jerked open, he fell through and collided with another hard surface, but this one possessed

heat and the scent of paradise.

Heaven does exist, Maddy—right here.

Chapter Fifteen

Where Fallen Angels Land

As soon as Cole stepped out the door, the apartment had closed in around him, invisible hands

clutching his throat, squeezing, suffocating and choking. Dane’s head was pounding and his stomach

was upset, but he went for the scotch again. He couldn’t allow himself to sober up entirely, though the

telling of his horror story had killed some of the buzz. He needed it back, needed to drown his

thoughts so he couldn’t think. Laying everything out in the open like that, it had hurt like a

motherfucker. It was too much and he needed it to go away.

And it was working. He was on the bare edge of passing out when the sudden pounding on his

door jerked him back to his senses and fully awake and aware—exactly where he didn’t want to be.

“Fuck.” Annoyance pinched his face as he crawled off the sofa, took a moment to get his

bearings, and then moved toward the door on legs that threatened to buckle at any given moment. He

wasn’t positive how much of the pounding was coming from the door and how much from inside his

head. The room around him wasn’t entirely stationary, and it shifted fluidly as he reached the door,

grabbed the knob and jerked it open, ready to curse at his insistent, unwelcome visitor. Then a body

stumbled through and crashed against his chest.

Dane grunted with the sudden impact and instinctively caught hold of the person who literally

fell into his arms. A tuft of sandy-brown hair puffed against his cheek and, for a moment, arms clung

to him desperately. His mind was a haze of liquor and confusion, and it took a second or two for it to

clear enough to realize he was holding Angel.

His heart muscle quivered, disrupting the beat, his body going rigid as neither he nor the boy

moved a muscle. He could feel the wild, erratic thump of Angel’s heart as the young man’s chest

pressed tightly against him, so warm and inviting.

But the invitation was withdrawn when Angel suddenly pushed away from him. “Get off me,” he

mumbled, voice quiet, unsteady—broken. He shoved his hair from his face to reveal flushed cheeks

wet with tears, eyes damp, bloodshot and rimmed in red. His feet were unsteady beneath him, and

that’s when Dane registered the smell of alcohol.

“Angel...?” he took a step toward the boy, his own legs as unreliable as Angel’s.

Angel stumbled back and thrust out a shaky hand to ward him off. “Just stay the fuck away from

me.”

“You came here.” Dane’s brow pinched and he blinked as his vision went hazy and his head

swam. What was he doing here? The room began to spin a little and he stepped back, bumped the

door, knocking it closed. He hit against it and didn’t move, willing the apartment to slow to a

standstill. “I need to sit down.” Rather than attempt to make it back across the wide expanse of open

floor to the sofa, Dane pressed his back to the door and slid down to the floor, then slowly raised his

eyes to the boy who was staring at him and swaying a little. “Did you want something?”

* * *

Carl returned to the bar. Gabe gave it a few minutes then wandered over and casually slid onto a

stool about half way down the bar from their fisher, Wade. Carl served him a beer and they chatted

absently as Gabe watched the other man in his peripheral vision. When he noticed him casting glances

his way, Gabe looked at him, smiled and winked.

The guy glanced away quickly, but moments later his eyes were on Gabe again. And was that

interest he saw in that previously anti-fag gaze? Well, wasn’t this curious? Or, perhaps, it was Mr.

Wade who was curious.

“Excuse me,” Gabe murmured to Carl, a smirk creeping across his lips as he slid off the stool.

“What’re you going to do?” Carl asked uncertainly, as if he didn’t trust Gabe’s notions.

“No worries,” Gabe smiled. “I got this.”

“Uh huh,” Carl chided dubiously.

Chuckling low, Gabe meandered in Wade’s direction. When the other customer saw him

approaching, he stepped off his stool and strolled away. Gabe took his warm seat and smiled

charmingly at Wade. “Sorry about the other day,” he said. “I was just fucking with you.”

“It’s fine,” Wade spoke low, but there was definitely a new gleam in his eyes as they seemed to

take quick trip down Gabe’s body and back up again.

“I’m Gabe,” Gabe offered his hand almost affectionately.

The guy accepted without hesitation and Gabe squeezed just enough to extend an invitation,

curious to see if the man would accept. Gabe’s lips twitched when Wade squeezed back—just a

fraction. “Wade.”

“I remember,” Gabe murmured and held onto his hand a millisecond longer than necessary

before withdrawing. He sipped the drink he’d brought with him and asked casually, “So if you’re not

into this queer shit, why are you in a gay strip club?” Gabe arched an eyebrow as he took another

drink then set the glass down and smiled. “Just curious.”

Wade just stared at him. But it wasn’t a get the fuck away from me, faggot look like before. It

was more of an I want to fuck your brains out look. Gabe was quite familiar with the look; he saw it

in the eyes of nearly every man he took into a private booth.

“Speaking of curious,” Gabe said quietly, a sensual softness to his tone, “aren’t you at all

curious about all this?” This time when he slid his hand up the man’s thigh, Wade didn’t recoil, or

even shove his hand away. When Gabe’s fingers grazed his crotch, there was a notable stiffness

waiting there inside his jeans.

Wade continued to stare at him in silence, though there was a slight increase to the quickness of

his breath and a warm hue touched his cheeks. Not so repulsed anymore, are you, motherfucker?

Gabe displayed a bit more boldness and slowly cupped the man’s bulge, squeezing ever so gently.

Clearing his throat anxiously, Wade finally removed Gabe’s hand, but with a clear note of reluctance.

“Look, I don’t have cash to spend here.”

Smiling, eyes heavy with practiced desire, Gabe rubbed the man’s knee lightly. “Well, since

you’re new here. Your first dance is free. That is...” Gabe stood up, took Wade’s hand and pressed it

to his crotch, “...if you want it.” He motioned toward the private booths. “I’ll wait for you there, if

you decide to take me up on it.” He pushed his confined cock into the man’s palm and leaned close,

whispering, “I promise you won’t be sorry you did.”

A rush of breath puffed out of Wade’s nostrils and his fingers tightened around Gabe’s package.

He didn’t hop right up and trail after Gabe like a dog after a bitch in heat, but he wouldn’t be far

behind. Gabe was positive of that. They never are, he smirked and winked at Carl as he walked

toward the booths.

* * *

Did you want something?

Angel stared at him, body swaying a bit as the effects of the alcohol began to override the

adrenaline rush. Yeah, my foot in your face, asshole . But he was pretty sure if he tried to deliver a

kick, he would only accomplish dropping himself to his ass. He struggled to cling to his anger as

Dane’s chin dropped to his chest and he stared at his hands. “What’re you doing here, Angel?” he

whispered, his voice so broken and weary it punched holes in Angel’s heart.

Fuck if I’m gonna feel sorry for you. Angel shook his head, jaw tightening, eyes burning and

filling. His whole head ached from the force of his clamped teeth. What was he doing there? What did

he expect the man to say? Did he want to hear Dane say, in no uncertain terms, that Angel was nothing

but a piece of ass to him? Was he going to push the guy until he had to spell it out so crudely and

painfully?

If the man hadn’t been sitting against the door, maybe he would have just left. Because what he

truly wanted to know, what he wanted to hear, Dane would never say. Tears were rising and he didn’t

want to break down right there in front of Dane. Dane had taken enough from him, why should he get

to take what tiny shred of dignity Angel still possessed.

“Please move,” Angel whispered, his throat working, “and I’ll go. I’ll leave you alone. Just let

me out.” He was starting to shake and the alcohol in his system wasn’t helping anymore.

Dane slowly pushed himself up onto unsteady legs and moved away from the door, staggering a

bit. Clearly Angel wasn’t the only one having an affair with the bottle. Angel walked to the door, his

stomach nauseous, heart feeling as if someone had stabbed it through with red-hot spikes. Just say it,

please, just ask me to stay. Just say that one word. Stay . But no words left Dane’s mouth as Angel

gripped the door knob. He tried to turn it but his hand just squeezed tighter. His forehead touched the

door and he crumbled, the tears coming full force. “Why?” he cried, trembling. “Why don’t you want

me?” His head pressed harder against the door, sobs breaking out. “Why did you throw me away?”

His strength was leaving him quickly, his head was starting to spin. He dropped to his knees hard,

heard the crack against the solid floor but felt nothing. He still clung to the door handle, crying.

“Why?”

Hands grabbed him, lifted him to his feet and held on. Then warmth encompassed him, strong

arms wrapped tightly around his trembling body, and his face pressed against Dane’s warm neck, the

man’s throat working with emotion as he hugged him so fiercely that Angel could barely breathe. But

he didn’t want to breathe. He wanted to die. Right here, in the arms of the man he loved.

* * *

What have you done to him?

Though some part of him warned him against this, Dane couldn’t let go. The boy shook in his

arms, crying, his emotions heightened by the alcohol he’d consumed. And maybe it was the scotch in

his own system that caused him to cling to Angel, keep him there when he should be ushering him out

the door, sending him on his way. Whatever the reason, or cause, Dane held on, his face shoved into

the boy’s soft hair, breathing him in. For the first time since Angel had crawled out of his car, crushed

by Dane’s words, Dane felt like he could breathe again. Without Angel in his arms, he had been

slowly suffocating, barely holding onto life it seemed.

He didn’t know just when his lips sought out Angel’s mouth, he was only aware that he was

kissing the young man—and Angel was kissing him back, with so much need and desperation. They

sank down to the floor as one, neither in any condition to stay on their feet. But with Angel in his

arms, he didn’t want them on their feet.

The boy moaned and whimpered through their kiss but remained glued to him, legs coiling

around his waist, arms around his neck, pulling him all the way down to the floor on top of him. Tears

streamed from Angel’s closed eyes, his chest hitching beneath Dane’s body. His slim hips lifted,

pushing up against Dane, wanting him and needing him in every way that Dane wanted and needed

Angel.

I can’t do this! I will just hurt him again! I have to stop!

But he was already too far gone to listen to reason, the boy’s warm, aroused body intoxicating

him far more than any bottle of scotch.

Chapter Sixteen

Love Your Enemy

Less than five minutes went by before Wade entered the booth, following Gabe inside. Despite

his cool air out in the club, once he was inside the private booth he developed a nervousness. Mr.

Wade was new to all this, that much was obvious. Had he just recently begun fucking men? Or had he

even taken that step yet? Either way, he was curious enough to accept a free lap dance from a male

stripper, and now Gabe had him in his web.

He smiled at Wade as the man glanced around the small confinement anxiously. “Not nervous are

you?” Gabe murmured.

“Uh, no,” the man lied, his nervousness etched across his face.

“Good. No need to be. This won’t hurt, I promise.” Gabe winked then motioned to the leather

chair. “Have a seat.” Wade sat down on the edge and Gabe chuckled. “You’ve got to get comfortable

or it’s no fun.” He pushed the guy back into the chair, stepping between his legs, then rubbed his

hands slowly down Wade’s chest, raking his fingertips over his stomach and playing with the snap of

his pants. “Now if we want to make it real fun...” He popped loose the button.

Wade grabbed his hands. “Uh, maybe not.”

Leaning closer, Gabe let his lips nearly touch Wade’s. “You’re not scared of me, are you?”

“No,” the man swallowed thickly, “it isn’t that.”

Bullshit. The guy was scared shitless. Gabe suspected that whatever experience he’d had with

gay sex, he’d either been the dominant, or on equal standing with his partner. But he had no

experience with a man like Gabe, and he was clearly intimidated, feeling inferior. Gabe was getting

the feeling that Mr. Wade wasn’t used to that, and wasn’t liking it much either, not having control.

Though the guy protested, Gabe unzipped his pants and opened the front to expose to his cotton-

encased cock. “Now you stay right here. Don’t move a...” he glanced quickly at the guy’s crotch,

“...muscle. I’ll turn on some music and we can get this party started.”

Wade stared at him with a look like maybe he’d bitten off more than he could chew. Gabe chose

a mild tempo and moved in close to the guy to prevent any sudden bolt for the door. It was second

nature for his body to start moving with music, he didn’t even have to think about it. He’d been

complimented more than once on the fluid way his body curved and swayed, like a king cobra

hypnotizing its prey. He’d thought about getting a cobra tattoo sometime, maybe right above his ass

like a tramp stamp.

He suppressed the chuckle to avoid killing the sensual mood he was creating, and sashayed

between Wade’s legs, knocking them open wider with his knee, dipping down low and letting his lips

graze over the bulge in his briefs then moving on up the man’s body, practically pinning him to the

chair. Quickened breath puffed from Wade’s lips and a look of both excitement and fear grappled

behind his eyes. Something in his stare alerted Gabe that this man might well be a predator, though not

with men like Gabe. With him—Wade was the prey. And a part of him clearly resisted that role.

Though other parts weren’t entirely hating it.

* * *

Dane’s body pushed down against him eagerly, with hunger. Angel’s mind was in a fog, his

hands groping at Dane’s clothes, tugging his shirt up his back, gripping his tense, warm muscles.

Their mouths remained locked, tongues intertwined, moans and whimpers flowing back and forth

between them. Angel’s heart threatened to beat a hole in his chest as Dane smothered him in his arms,

beneath his body, enveloping him with passion.

Dane tightened his embrace then lifted up, sitting back on his heels, bringing Angel with him,

pulling the young man onto his lap. Their kiss remained intact and Angel shoved his fingers through

Dane’s thick, soft hair, pressing his body closer, hugging the man’s neck, consumed with the fear that

Dane would suddenly thrust him from his arms and banish him from his life—again.

But, for the moment anyway, Dane seemed to have no intention of releasing him. His hands

pushed up under the back of Angel’s shirt, rubbing his bare skin, fingers squeezing his lean muscles.

He broke out of the kiss suddenly and shoved his face in Angel’s neck, kissing, licking, sucking. Then

his lips were on his ear, breath puffing hard as he caressed up and down Angel’s back. “Oh god,

baby,” he trembled, voice thick, tight with emotion. “I’ve missed you.”

Angel’s mind wasn’t in working order, or he might have demanded the man tell him why he sent

him away in the first place. Wasn’t that why he’d come here? For answers? Or was it for— this? It

hurt his head to think. All that mattered right now was that he was in Dane’s arms; the man was

holding him, wanting him, telling him how much he had missed him. Angel hugged him tighter and

pressed his face to his shoulder, the tears still flowing steadily. Please don’t send me away again.

Just let me stay right here forever.

“Please make love to me again,” the words were falling from his lips without checking with his

mind first to see if that was what he meant to say. His arms squeezed Dane’s neck and sobs staggered

through his chest. “Please.”

Dane hugged him in a death grip, his voice shaky, “I haven’t touched my bed since you were in

it,” he choked quietly, “I couldn’t, not without you there with me.” He drew back and tears were

sliding down his face. He touched his head to Angel’s brow. “Think we can make it up the stairs?”

Nodding, Angel whispered, “We can try.”

What am I doing? What about not walking right back into the same trap again? Angel forced

the thoughts away; he didn’t want to think what might come after. He didn’t want to think about

anything but this right here. He’d died the moment Dane had pushed him from his life. But here, in his

arms, he was being resurrected.

* * *

Max had migrated to the bar just after Gabe coaxed the fisher into the booth. Carl slid his

preferred drink over to him then leaned against the counter opposite Max and glanced toward the

booths. “I think Gabe has an evil streak,” he mused. “He seems to enjoy all this a little too much.”

Chuckling low, Max nodded and sipped his drink. “I think you could be right.”

Carl looked at him a moment, then asked quietly, “Do you have any idea at all who it could be?”

“No.” Max sighed and twisted his glass back and forth. “I hate the thought of it being any of these

boys.”

“When you find out who it is—you’re going to send them out of the club?”

“Don’t see as I have any choice,” Max murmured. He licked his lips then took another drink.

“Regardless how some people might view a place like this; I’m not running a whore house.”

“Well, as far as what other people think,” Carl said quietly, dead seriously, “Fuck ‘em. This

place is great. Sometimes a man needs a place to go where he can get some one-on-one attention and

feel special.” He chuckled softly, “Even if he does have to pay for it.”

Max laughed and nodded, sipped his drink then looked at the bartender. Carl had been with the

club almost as long as Cole and Gabe had been there. The man worked long hours and rarely took

time off. How the hell did he go and go without dropping? “You know, Carl,” Max said. “I don’t

know if I’ve ever told you this, but you’re a major asset to the club; and a hell of a bartender.” Max

looked him over. “And you’re fucking beautiful.” He arched a brow as he took a drink. “Have you

ever thought about dancing?” Max winked.

“Oh hell no,” Carl laughed and shook his head. “I have no rhythm.”

As Max surveyed the man’s body, he had serious doubts about that. Carl had become a fixture of

the club, just kind of blending in, and Max had lost sight of how gorgeous the guy truly was. He didn’t

realize he was staring until Carl raised his brows and smiled, “Boss? You okay?”

Max rubbed a quick hand over his mouth and cleared his throat, startled by the sudden throb in

his crotch; he’d never thought of Carl as anything other than a bartender. “Uh, yeah,” he shrugged and

smiled, “just spacing out for a moment.”

Carl nodded, lips curved in a sexy smile that said he hadn’t missed the attention Max was giving

his body. He cleared his throat and glanced toward the entrance as another customer entered. “I have

an idea—how you can maybe find out who the fisher has planted in here.”

Looking up, Max nodded, “I’m all ears.”

Indicating the new customer, Carl rested his elbows on the bar next to Max, his face close as he

spoke low, “I think we should incorporate the help of a regular, trusted customer to approach the

fisher as a potential client for his guy.”

Max nodded slowly. “That’s a good plan.” He met Carl’s gaze, quite closely. His blue-gray eyes

suddenly seemed like a door to a whole new world behind them. The man slid his fingers through his

short, dark blond hair and Max followed the trek before his eyes slid down Carl’s square, masculine

jaw with a mere dusting of carefully trimmed stubble. Again, he was shocked by this sudden effect his

longtime employee was having on him. Maybe knowing he was losing Dane—even if the man insisted

he wasn’t leaving him—had set Max on a subconscious prowl for a new intimate confidant.

Shaking his head, Max leaned back and shifted his attention from Carl to the customer, his pulse

suddenly quick and throat thick. He swallowed hard. “So you’re thinking—him?”

Carl nodded, “Yeah,” the man’s voice had a slight rasp to it that raked Max’s skin rather

pleasantly. “I think he would be a good choice.”

“What’s his name?”

“Faron Ryland, he’s known around the club as the octopus.”

“Cole’s favorite customer?” Max chuckled and shook his head.

“Indeed,” Carl grinned as his eyes flicked to the entrance and he smiled darkly, “Ah and here’s

the man of the hour, the perfect bait to bring him on board.”

Max followed Carl’s stare to see Cole walking toward them, and smirked, “He’s so gonna

fucking kill you for this.”

* * *

“Having fun yet?” Gabe straddled the man’s lap, body slinking and curving so close to Wade’s

he could feel the heat pouring out of his skin and through his clothes. A slight flush warmed the guy’s

cheeks and he pressed back against the chair, gripping the edges of the seat. “I know I am.” He

wasn’t, actually. But he knew how to fake it with the parasites. Anyone who would make a living off

selling another human being for sex was the lowest of the lowest parasites. Well, there were some

even lower than that, but he ranked right down there with worst of them.

Though he suspected the man wanted to touch him, Wade continued to clutch the chair.

“You know,” Gabe murmured, nipping his earlobe. “Sometimes I get customers in here that I just

want to fuck their brains out. But I could get fired for that if the boss man found out.” He sank lower,

circling his hips as his crotch rubbed firmly against Wade’s stiff erection. The man’s breath caught

sharply and he groaned. “I’ve even considered propositioning customers to meet with me outside the

club—but I don’t want to get caught setting it up.” He pushed down a little harder, grinding on the

man until he began to shove his hips up against Gabe. “Sometimes I wish I had someone to work the

business angle for me, and I could just do the fucking and collect the cash; and, of course, split it with

my business partner.” He groaned and rocked in the guy’s lap, sliding his fingers through his hair and

nuzzling his neck. “A guy could make a shitload off these rich, horny bastards. You wouldn’t believe

what they’re willing to pay just to get their cocks in a dancer’s ass.”

Wade lifted his hands tentatively and rested them on Gabe’s hips, his head laid back over the

chair, panting. “Are you serious?” he breathed heavily.

“Huh?” Gabe sucked his earlobe.

“About wanting a business partner, to set things up?”

“Mmm-hm.” Gabe nipped his neck and pushed his body harder against the man. He was down to

his G-string, which provided precarious containment of his cock as he rubbed on Wade. The guy slid

his hands down over his ass, testing his freedom. Gabe could still feel the uncertainty in him, as if he

weren’t entirely sure this was the sexual route he wanted to take—yet helpless not to explore with a

man like Gabe in his lap.

“Maybe I could—help you out.”

“What do you mean?” Gabe moaned. The man’s bulge was hard as stone and pressing up against

him, digging between his ass cheeks as Gabe rode him fervently. Max would want to be one hundred

percent certain this guy was a fisher before doing something about it. Gabe took it upon himself to

confirm it. These types of parasites were greedy, and if the man thought he could get more guys

working for him, bringing in a load more cash, he wouldn’t be able to resist.

“I have some experience in the business,” Wade grunted when Gabe rolled his hips with a

measure of force. “Fuck.” It was good to show the guy what kind of talent he would be partnering up

with. Wade panted hard. “I could work the—business end for you.”

“Is that so?” Gabe licked his ear and smiled. Gotcha sucker.

Chapter Seventeen

Forsake Me Not

Dane didn’t recall the entire trip up the stairs, or if it had taken more than one attempt to

complete the journey. He was only aware of falling on the bed with Angel underneath him, his

thoughts shredded as if caught in a hurricane. Some distant part of him warned this was a bad idea,

but the same storm whipped away the words, disintegrated them, and Angel helped with the

eradication of rational thought as his hands moved all over Dane’s body, tugging his shirt up over his

head. Angel’s shirt joined Dane’s somewhere on the floor of the loft, and then they were working

hurriedly at one another’s pants. The remainder of Angel’s clothes came off first and Dane was on

him, still wearing his jeans with just the front open.

“Oh my god, baby,” he panted, moaning, kissing all over Angel’s neck, chest, stomach, and then

back up to suck his small stiff nipples, little pebbles of sweetness that Dane couldn’t get enough of.

Angel writhed and squirmed, body arching, fingers twisting through his hair as sweet, intoxicating

moans and whimpers pushed up out of the boy. His fierce arousal gouged into Dane’s stomach,

leaving behind streaks of warm, slick wetness. Groaning, Dane slid down and took him in his mouth

in one shot.

“Uuh!” Angel yelled, hips thrusting, lifting his ass off the bed as he gripped the back of Dane’s

head, squeezing his scalp. “Fuck! Oh god! Uuhh!”

Dane instantly salivated at the feel and taste of Angel’s hardened cock pushing into his throat. He

grabbed the boy’s slim hips and held him firmly as he slid his mouth up and down Angel’s shaft,

squeezing, sucking, devouring his delicious flesh.

“Dane!” Angel choked and shoved his head down into the pillow as his body rose to him

eagerly. The boy was so far gone both emotionally and physically that it only took a few deep thrusts

onto his member to push him over the edge. He screamed out, nails gouging Dane’s scalp, body

twisting as he came with such force Dane’s throat was instantly filled with warm, thick cum. He

swallowed every drop of his hot passion and drained him of any remaining residue then crawled up

over the top of him and grabbed Angel’s mouth in a hungry kiss.

The boy cried softly through the kiss, his body trembling, clinging to Dane. He sifted his fingers

through Angel’s warm, slightly damp hair and softened his kiss as the young man seemed to melt

beneath him, into him, his unsteady hands caressing Dane’s chest then around his neck and down over

his shoulders. His legs parted and knees pulled up as he rubbed along Dane’s hips with his inner

thighs. Dane burned for the boy, his body aching to near physical pain. But when he shoved down his

pants, he discovered he wasn’t at all in working order. He choked on a frustrated whimper and his

brow dropped against Angel’s shoulder. Fucking liquor. Why did he have to drink so much?

“I’m sorry, baby,” he whispered thickly. “The scotch—I drank too damn much—I can’t.”

Is it really the drink doing this to me—or the guilt? I shouldn’t be here with him this way and

I know it.

Dane shoved his face against the boy’s neck, a sob lodging in his throat. God, what was he gonna

do? Angel was as necessary to him as air itself. It was clear the boy felt the same. How could he send

him away? Hurt him all over again? It would crush him. It would crush them both.

His arms wrapped around Angel and held on tightly. He cried softly against the boy’s neck. “It’s

okay,” Angel trembled and hugged him. “We can wait till later.” He swallowed hard and stroked

Dane’s hair, kissing his head. “I don’t care what we do, I just—I just want to be here with you.”

Dane sniffed then pushed up on his elbows and looked down into Angel’s face, so beautiful and

perfect. Those eyes, so clear and pure, were gazing back at Dane like he was someone worthy of an

angel’s love. I have to tell him the truth. He shuddered and warm tears rose up then coursed down

his face. I can’t.

Tender thumbs slid over his cheeks, wiping away his tears. “I’m falling in love with you,” Angel

whispered. Tears wet his soft voice, sincerity brightening his eyes. “I’ve been falling since the

moment I met you.”

Dane shook his head slowly and ducked his chin, squeezing his eyes shut. “No,” he choked,

shaking. “Don’t say that, Angel.”

“Why?” The boy’s chin trembled, eyes filling. “It’s true. And I know you feel it, too. Why won’t

you say it?” Dane just shook his head again, eyes clamped shut, shuddering with sobs. He pulled

away from Angel, though the boy tried to hold him there, as he started to cry. “Don’t, Dane—don’t

leave me again, please.”

Dane pulled up his pants and fastened them, running his hands through his hair, desperate for a

solution where there was none. He couldn’t look at Angel, laid out so beautifully on his bed, aching

for him, begging him not to push him away again. How could he ask him to stay here? And yet—how

could he tell him to leave?

His left hand clamped his hip as his right hand gripped the nape of his neck, his back to the bed.

What the fuck do I say to him?!

* * *

Angel could feel it; the wall going up. The same one he’d come up against when he’d awakened

in Dane’s bed that last time he was here. No explanation just—making love one moment—and being

shunned the second. What did I expect? That he really wanted me back? I throw myself at him—of

course he’s gonna fuck me again! But it doesn’t mean anything has changed!

The anger that had brought him here in the first place began to simmer his blood. Hot tears

burned his eyes. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” he cried. “What’s wrong with me? Is this all I

am to you—just some fucking piece of ass?”

Dane’s fingers squeezed his neck, his skin reddening from the force of his grip as his shoulders

hunched as if a severe weight were bearing down on him. But he didn’t speak, didn’t answer him.

“Tell me!” Angel choked. “ Fuck.” The anger wasn’t nearly as powerful as the hurt, though he

fought to hold onto it. He rolled onto his stomach and cried into Dane’s pillow. “What’s wrong with

me, Dane? Why don’t you want to be with me? Just tell me—please.”

The end of the bed depressed as Dane sank down. When Angel looked, his hands were clasped

behind his neck, his head bowed, body trembling with quiet sobs.

“Is it me, Dane?” Angel cried softly. “Did I do something wrong?”

The man’s head hung lower, his sobs growing harder.

Angel crawled to the foot of the bed and touched his back. “Dane—”

“You didn’t...” Dane stood up as suddenly as if Angel’s touch had burned him. “You didn’t do

anything,” he choked, but still he wouldn’t look at him. Just like before.

“Then what’s wrong?” Angel whispered, and a fear he didn’t understand crept through his bones.

“I can’t,” Dane shook his head, “I can’t tell you.” He turned and finally looked at him, a pain so

strong in his dark eyes it laid waste Angel’s heart. “I can’t be with you, Angel.” The very words

visibly broke the man and he sat down hard on the bed, his arms curling over his head, fists clawing

his hair. “I’m sorry,” he cried. “It isn’t you.” He began to shake. “Baby, it isn’t you—it isn’t.”

“Then what?” Angel pleaded in desperation. He wrapped his arms around Dane’s chest, and

though the man flinched, he didn’t pull away. His arms uncurled and his hands covered Angel’s,

drawing them up to his lips as his head ducked lower. Angel touched his lips to the back of Dane’s

neck and cried. “Please tell me what’s wrong.” He pressed his nude body closer to Dane’s bare back,

never wanting to know how it felt to be away from him again. “Everything was good—before,” he

whispered unsteadily. “What happened that night? Why did you change?”

Dane went still, his body tensed. He squeezed Angel’s hands, his lips pressed firmly to his

fingertips. “You had a nightmare,” Dane’s voice shuddered, so low Angel could barely hear his

words. “Someone was hurting you.”

Angel squeezed his eyes shut. It was the same nightmare every night. “It was just a nightmare,”

he trembled. Tears dripped onto Dane’s back and rolled down his warm skin.

“It wasn’t just a nightmare, Angel.” His chest heaved with emotion. “Something bad happened to

you. Something unimaginably horrifying.”

Closing his eyes, Angel hugged him tighter. “It did,” his body trembled, as it always did at the

memory, “but it—it was a long time ago.” Though it didn’t feel so long ago. Every time he closed his

eyes at night, it brought it back up to the present. But even so, why would his nightmare cause Dane to

push him away? It didn’t make any sense.

“Not that long ago,” Dane whispered and he began to shake, badly.

“Dane...”

“Five years,” he choked on the words and stood, pulling out of Angel’s arms, stepping away

from the bed, his hand flattened against his brow. “Five years isn’t a long time ago.”

Angel stared at him, heart pounding. “How—how do you know...” He licked his lips slowly,

chin trembling. “How do you know how long ago it was?”

His back to him, Dane’s hand slid down over his eyes and sobs began to shake his body.

“Angel,” he whispered softly, breaking down.

“How do you know?” Angel cried.

Chapter Eighteen

Moment of Truth

“What’re those shit eatin’ grins for?” Cole asked warily. “Or do I want to know?”

Carl smirked, “Probably not.”

Surveying his boss and the bartender with caution, Cole murmured, “What’s going on?” He

glanced around for Gabe as he slid onto a bar stool but the man was nowhere in sight. “Don’t tell me

Gabe’s gotten himself into trouble. Sometimes that boy is hell on wheels.”

“Nah,” Max sipped his drink. “Gabe’s behaving.”

“Well, I don’t know about behaving,” Carl grinned.

“When does he ever behave?” Cole chuckled but looked at the two men suspiciously. “So what’s

up?”

Max sobered a bit, lips pressing tightly. “We think we have a fisher in the club.”

“What?” Cole looked around. “Where? Who?”

“Gabe’s, uh,” Max scratched his temple and grinned, “dealing with him at the moment.”

“Ah.” Cole smirked and glanced toward the private booths. The guy don’t stand a chance . “Has

he been in here before?”

Clearing his throat, Carl nodded. “It’s that Wade guy, from the other day. You remember the two

straight guys Gabe was fucking with?”

Cole arched his brows, surprised. “Mr. I ain’t into that queer shit Wade?”

“One and the same.”

“Fuck,” Cole scowled. “Should’ve known the bastard had an ulterior motive for being in a gay

club.” He frowned. “How the hell did Gabe get him in a private booth? The guy wanted nothing to do

with him last time he was in here.”

Carl shrugged and grinned, “Guess he’s had a change of heart. ‘Cause he was sure quick as hell

to follow your boy into private quarters—and not without an ample erection leading the way.”

“No fuck?” Cole breathed, shaking his head. “Well, I always figured if anyone could turn a

straight guy fag—it would be our own Gabriel Smith.”

“Smith?” Carl looked at him. “Gabe’s last name is Smith?”

“Yeah. You didn’t know that?”

“No,” Carl chuckled. “Sounds like an alias to me. Smith.” He shook his head and grinned.

“Though not a very inventive one. Sure he isn’t hiding out from the mob or something?”

“Yeah,” Cole chuckled, but where typically Carl’s joking remark might have been amusing,

lately Gabe’s evasiveness about the phone calls had Cole on edge. Though he didn’t actually think

Gabe was running from the mob, something sure as fuck was going on that he wasn’t talking about. He

cleared his throat, noticing Max had gone quiet at Carl’s statement. “So, uh, about our problem. This

means we have a solicitor in our midst?”

“Looks that way,” Max murmured, face tight. “Fuck. It just pisses me off. I hate it when I find out

I can’t trust one of my boys.”

“Any clue who it is?” But even as he asked the question, Cole’s mind jumped back to the night

that Wade and his friend had come into the club. His sole attention had been on the stage—where

Ricky was giving Angel dance lessons. And then, at least, his interest had not been sexual. Did that

point fingers at Ricky or Angel as being the plant? Ricky had been with the club for over a year. And

Wade hadn’t set foot in the Phoenix until—two weeks after Angel came to work.

No. It couldn’t be Angel. It couldn’t. He didn’t fit the M.O. of a prostitute. The boy had

panicked the last time he even got onstage. He was taking dance lessons, for fuck’s sake. Don’t have

to know how to dance to know how to fuck. No, he was just a fucking kid. Cole swallowed thickly as

his throat knotted. It isn’t him. It isn’t . But even as he resisted the notion, Dane’s revelation of past

events lingered heavy in the back of his mind.

“I don’t know,” Max was saying, and shook his head. “But when I find out—he’s gone.” He

looked at Cole. “Which is where you come in.”

Cole frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Carl suggested we get one of our regulars to approach Wade as a potential client for his boy,”

Max said. “That’s the quickest way to find out who the impostor is.”

Cole’s guts churned and twisted as Angel’s face hovered behind his eyes. “And my role in this

is...?”

Leaning on the bar, Carl nodded over to the floor. “We thought he might be a good candidate.”

A low groan escaped Cole when he twisted around and locked eyes with Faron Ryland. “You

gotta be fucking kidding me?”

“The guy’s got a thing for you,” Carl chuckled. “I bet he’ll do it if you ask real nice.”

Cole turned back around. “Not without a price. Can’t we use someone else?”

“I want this dealt with now,” Max said. “He’s the only regular here at the moment that has

something to gain by doing us a favor.”

“Something to gain?” Cole cocked an eyebrow. “Just what the fuck am I supposed to offer him in

return for this favor?”

“I don’t know,” Max shrugged, and then slapped him on the back lightly. “But you’ll think of

something.” He winked. “Maybe a few free lap dances.”

Cole rolled his eyes. “The guy’s fucking rich, he don’t care about paying for the dances.”

“Then work something out,” Max smiled. “You can do it. I have faith in you.”

“Thanks a lot,” Cole muttered. He knew exactly what the octopus would want and there was no

way in hell he was getting his tentacle inside Cole.

* * *

Cold realization was seeping into Angel’s eyes, but he wouldn’t accept it—not without Dane

saying the words straight out. No, baby, please don’t make me say it. Don’t make me watch your

love for me die right before my eyes. But he’d spoken the words that opened the door to that dark

place, and there was no way to close it again. This was the moment of truth—the end of everything.

Angel was already gone, he just hadn’t yet gotten up and walked away.

Dane stared at him, the boy’s question beating at the inside of his skull: How do you know?

“Dane...” Angel was trembling, his bare skin prickling up all over his beautiful nude body. Tears

weaved patterns down his cheeks as he looked at Dane with a plea in his eyes, begging the man

without words to give him a plausible explanation that he could live with. But Dane couldn’t.

“Angel.” He swallowed hard, the knot in his throat swelling thicker, choking him. “That night—

in that club—I...” The scotch was coming back on him as his stomach twisted up and pinched with

tension. Nausea hit him suddenly and he stumbled into the bathroom and retched into the toilet,

gripping the toilet seat, tears dripping off his face. He dropped to his knee, crying and puking, though

the only thing in his stomach was the liquor.

“You were there?” Angel’s soft, broken voice reached him from the bathroom doorway.

Dane squeezed the toilet seat, his cheek pressed against the cold surface as tears ran down his

face, dripping steadily into the mess inside the bowl. He wanted to puke again but there was nothing

left.

Angel withdrew back into the bedroom. Dane wanted to follow, to explain, to make things right

somehow—but there was no way to stop the ruin now; Angel knew he had been in the club that night.

The boy’s quiet, broken sobs sifted into the bathroom. Dane forced himself up onto his feet and

flushed the toilet then returned to the bedroom, legs rubbery, stomach hurting. “Angel...”

“Did you watch what they did to me?” He cried, loss and despair in his tattered words. “Did it

—did it turn you on to watch them rape me?” He raised his head from where he sat slumped on the

end of the bed, his eyes empty of life—of love.

A river of warm tears coursed down Dane’s face. Baby, I’m so sorry.

“Angel...” Dane trembled. “I wasn’t watching.”

“But you were there,” Angel’s cries weakened, his voice shaking. “You were still there—

weren’t you?”

Dane shuddered, sobs breaking through him. “Yes,” he whispered, his heart wilting, shriveling in

his chest. God, please let this be a nightmare. Let me wake up.

“If—if you weren’t watching...” Angel choked on his cries. “What what were you doing there?”

Lowering his head, a rush of hard sobs surged through Dane, twisting his body and pushing up

his throat. Participating.

But the word lodged beneath the knot in his throat and refused to rise any further and lay to waste

the heart of this perfect angel.

* * *

Faron Ryland perked up in more ways than one when Cole approached him. He leaned back in

his chair and surveyed Cole’s body. “Well, this is a pleasant surprise,” he murmured. “Cole,

approaching me. You’re not getting sweet on me, are you?” He winked, “I hope.”

Cole groaned inwardly, but outwardly smiled and chuckled softly. “Well if that were the case,

my boyfriend might be a bit put out.”

“You have a boyfriend?” Faron rubbed his lips together. “Lucky guy.”

“He has yet to complain,” Cole winked.

“I bet,” The man murmured and slid his thumb over his lower lip, a conspiratorial smile

stretching across his face. “Think he might let me borrow you for a night?”

Cole clucked his tongue and shook his head. “He don’t like to share his toys.”

“How selfish of him,” Faron smiled.

“What can I say?” Cole shrugged. “He’s a bad boy.”

“Mmm.” The guy’s hand slid down between his legs and massaged his crotch. “Can’t say I hate

the sound of that. Perhaps we could all three play together sometime.”

What would Gabe think of that? Cole mused. Maybe he could turn Faron onto Gabe, and off

himself. “No promises there,” he told the man.

“Aww.” Faron gave a mock pout as he rubbed his hand up the back of Cole’s thigh. “But think of

the fun we could have.”

Cole stepped back and the man’s hand fell away reluctantly. “So, are we going to stand here and

chat all day or...” he nodded toward the booths.

“I’m all in favor of the—or.” Faron grinned and stood; a prominent bulge to his crotch. He

hooked his fingertips in the back of Cole’s pants. “Lead the way, baby.”

Baby. This was going to be fun, Cole thought with a load of sarcasm. Max and Carl shot him

discreet smirks as he walked by with the octopus attached. Cole scowled at the two men and led

Faron to one of the empty booths, far from the one in which Gabe was entertaining the fisher.

The sea creature emerged once inside the booth. Faron pressed up against him, body grinding

against Cole’s, hands groping his ass through his tight jeans then slipping around front to work open

the snap and shove down the zipper. His eager hand started to shove down inside when Cole caught

hold of it. “Whoa there,” he chuckled. “Do we have to go over the rules every single time?”

“Sorry,” Faron smiled but didn’t retreat. “I’m afraid I suffer from short term memory loss.” His

hand strained against Cole’s grip, yearning to get down inside his pants.

“The truth is, Mr. Ryland—”

“Faron.”

“Of course, Faron.” Cole gently pushed him back and then down into the chair, leaning over him.

“I brought you in here to ask a favor of you—for my boss.”

“Really?” Faron gazed at him with renewed interest and danced his fingertips along Cole’s outer

thighs. “What kind of favor?”

“Well,” Cole straightened and stepped back. “It seems we have a prostitute in the club, posing as

a dancer. And his pimp is hanging around soliciting customers.”

“That prostitute wouldn’t happen to be you, now would it?” Faron smirked, a hopeful look in

his eyes.

“No.”

“Damn,” Faron shook his head.

Cole continued. “My boss wants to weed out the impostor, and we need a trusted customer to

approach the solicitor, posing as a client, so that we can learn the identity of the plant.”

Exhaling slowly, Faron nodded. “And what’s in it for me?” he murmured, eyes crawling all over

Cole.

“Well,” this was the part Cole was dreading. “That’s open for negotiation—within reason.”

“Negotiation,” Faron smiled, “I like the sound of that.” He tapped his index finger against his

lower lip thoughtfully.

“No sex,” Cole established quickly. “We could discuss some free booth sessions.” It was worth

a try, though he wasn’t surprised when the man’s face scrunched a bit and he shook his head.

“No,” he murmured. “I want something I haven’t had before.”

Oh god, here we go, Cole groaned silently.

Chapter Nineteen

Fall from Grace

Numbness permeated Angel’s body, heart, mind— everything. The sounds of the city went dull,

muffled. All he could hear was his own breath rushing in and out of his lungs, wheezing wetly through

his throat as tears welled and spilled out. Dane was a blurred figure before him, out of focus,

distorted. Who are you? I don’t even know you . Angel wanted to run away, right then, before any

more fatal words left the man’s lips. But his body was frozen in place—and naked.

His question, What were you doing there? went unanswered as Dane stood motionless, staring

at him, tears streaking his face. If you weren’t there watching, then...

Angel’s brow pinched with a physical anguish. He shook his head, body trembling hard.

Movement returned to his limbs and he grabbed at his clothes, sobs erupting in his throat. “No,” he

pulled on his pants, hands shaking. “You—you were— one of them?” He choked hard, vision

impaired with tears as he struggled to straighten his shirt and get it over his head. Some part of him

waited for—willed—Dane to deny it, to give some other reason for being at that club. But there were

no denials. “No,” Angel cried, his breath catching, leaving him, unwilling to suck back into his lungs.

His shirt was barely on before he was backing toward the stairs, head lowered, shaking fiercely.

“No...”

“Angel,” Dane choked on a cry and stepped toward him, but Angel withdrew further, unable

—unwilling—to look at the man.

“Stay away from me!” he screamed suddenly, real fear coursing through him as he spun around

and ran down the stairs, clutching the rail as his feet moved precariously beneath him, nearly tripping

on the steps.

“Angel!” Dane cried. A solid thump registered somewhere in the back of Angel’s mind as the

man dropped to his knees in the loft, his anguished cries of apology chasing Angel as his feet touched

down on the ground floor and he ran for the front door, sobs choking him, cutting off his air flow.

Blackness ebbed at the edges of his mind as he fled the apartment, causing shadows to press into his

vision, but he kept running. His heart was pounding, and Angel prayed it would just stop beating right

then and there.

* * *

“Angel!” Dane gouged his scalp as his fists squeezed his hair. The front door banged open as the

boy ran away, his cries surging backward, punching Dane in the chest, the heart, leaving him bruised

and beaten. “I’m sorry! Fuck! Baby, please...” The strength died from his voice and he fell back

against the end of the bed. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” His arms covered his head and he screamed out his

anguish, his body curling in on itself, every muscle clenching, straining. He tried to breathe and

couldn’t as the cries pushed outward.

Seconds from passing out, his wails broke and he sucked in a sharp ragged breath, gasping hard.

He grabbed the bed and struggled up onto his feet then stumbled to the bathroom and dry heaved until

his head began to pound, a sharp pain stabbing through his temples. His legs shook as he stood bent

over, gripping the toilet seat, staring down at his reflection. Tears dripped into the clear water,

nothing coming up to soil it. I deserve this. But he doesn’t!

Dane rose up, shaky breaths shuddering off his lips. He moved to the sink and looked at himself

in the mirror, his image blurring, shimmering. “Fuck you for doing this to him,” he choked. “Fuck

you!” His fist smashed the mirror, shattering the glass. “Fuck you!” he punched it again, his knuckles

slicing, bleeding. He screamed and sank to the floor. Shards of mirror scattered the floor. His hand

throbbed and bled all over the tiles, shaking as he picked up a thin, sharp piece of glass.

Just a couple of quick slits and I can make the hurt go away—rid the world of one more

worthless piece of shit.

The tip of the shard touched his wrist, pressed until a drop of blood seeped out.

* * *

Wade was on the bare edge of blowing his wad when Gabe lifted off his lap, leaving him panting

and sweating. “So can I get in touch with you somehow, or meet you somewhere?” Gabe stood over

him, still straddling his lap, body swaying and dipping, teasing. “I don’t want to do business inside

the club.”

“Yeah,” Wade rasped, hands unsteady as he gripped Gabe’s thighs. “I’ll give you a number. You

can call me when you want to meet up and talk.”

“Great,” Gabe murmured and dragged his lips down his neck then finally stepped back away

from him. “Just so you know, I’m a favorite here at the club. I’ll bring you in loads of cash.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Wade panted, eyes heavy. “Maybe sometime—you and I could...” he didn’t

finish as his lustful gaze crawled all over Gabe’s sweat slick body.

“Maybe,” Gabe flashed him a promising smile, then leaned down and rested his hands on the

man’s knees and cocked an eyebrow. “Which do you prefer, top or bottom? You like to fuck—or get

fucked?” Gabe slid his hands up his thighs and rubbed his steel cock with his thumbs. Wade groaned

and dropped his head back.

“With you,” he moaned, “I think I would want to get fucked.”

Gabe smiled darkly. Oh no worries, baby, you’re gonna get fucked all right . “I bet you got a

nice, tight ass,” Gabe whispered sensually, working Wade’s crotch beneath his thumbs until the man

was squirming and panting hard. “I bet you love it when a nice, thick cock squeezes into your tight

little hole and just pounds you like a jack hammer, huh?”

“Yes,” Wade whimpered and pushed against Gabe’s thumbs. “ Fuck,” he gripped the edges of the

chair, eyes clamped shut, panting and puffing. “Oh fuck, fuck. Ahhh god,” he sucked in a sharp breath

and clenched his jaw, biting back a shout as he juiced in his trousers. “Fuck!”

Gabe chuckled and straightened up. “I’m so gonna enjoy fucking you.” Ah, but I’m afraid you

won’t have nearly as much fun.

* * *

Cole wasn’t eager to hear just what it was Ryland wanted of him in return for the favor. The man

gazed at him like a kid in a toy store with an unlimited allowance. He stroked his chin and smiled. “I

want a lap dance,” Cole waited; there was more—much more. “But,” Ryland held up a finger. “With

both of us naked,” his breath quickened, his eyes growing heavy. “From the instant I saw you; I

wanted to feel your cock on mine.”

A nude lap dance? Cole stared at him doubtfully. “That’s quite a lot to ask for.”

“You’re the one in need of a favor,” Faron reminded. “I’m just telling you what I want.”

Shit. Max was going to fucking owe him for this.

“I’ll even pay,” Faron smiled wryly and sat forward in the chair, running his hands up Cole’s

legs. “Bonus and all. So your boss gets his favor, and you still get your cash.”

Money wasn’t exactly his concern at the moment. But, if he had to do it, he might as well come

out of it with something to show for it. “Fine,” Cole said, “but absolutely no penetration, in any form,

no fingers or cock. And we both wear condoms. No oral sex or hand jobs either. Strictly a lap dance.

Take it or leave it.”

Faron looked a little disappointed by the stipulation for no blow jobs or hand jobs, but he

nevertheless nodded slowly, “Oh, I’ll still take it.”

“The second you break even one of the rules, the session is over and you forfeit. Understood?”

“I understand,” he murmured. His smile widened. “Do I get it now?”

“After you get us what we want,” Cole said. “You’ll get what you want.”

“Well do I get my regular session now?” the man asked. “I didn’t come in here merely for a

chat.”

“Of course,” Cole nodded and turned on the music. As he began a sensual strip tease, he could

see behind the man’s eyes his anticipation of collecting his payment for the favor. His crotch swelled

and bulged inside his pants. Ryland wasn’t overly muscular, but he seemed to be packing down

below.

When Cole shed his pants and descended on Ryland’s lap, the man instantly thrust up against

him. As horny as this man was for him, Cole wasn’t sure how well he could do adhering to the rules

without making at least one attempt to get his cock inside him.

* * *

His surroundings were unfamiliar. When he’d run from Dane’s apartment, he’d done so blindly,

not caring where he was going, just having to get away. When he finally slowed to a walk out of the

sheer need to breathe, he was in a shabby part of the city. But it didn’t feel alien to him. Wade used to

bring him to these parts of the city before.

He passed some hookers hanging out on the corner who tried to proposition him, but he moved

on without acknowledging them. You are so barking up the wrong tree, honeys . Is that where he

would have ended up had Wade not discovered the Phoenix club? Just another whore flashing his

goods on a street corner, crawling into whatever car happened to stop, with no mind as to whether or

not he might get in the wrong car some night and just disappear, never to be seen again? If it weren’t

for Maddy, he wouldn’t fucking care.

Everything inside him hurt and he wanted to just crawl into an alleyway and stay there, sit with

the rest of the garbage waiting to be gathered up and thrown away. He refused to let his thoughts go

back to Dane, to that reality he couldn’t face, couldn’t handle. His hands shoved deeply into the front

pockets of his jeans and he swallowed hard, forcing his mind to remain blank, neutral. If he let

everything in, he might never make it back to Maddy—and he had to. He couldn’t allow this to crush

him to the degree that he was no longer of any use to Maddy. The boy needed him to be strong, to give

him hope that one day they would escape their hell.

We’re never getting away , Angel knew this now. How did one escape hell when it was

everywhere they turned? Life was hell. And there was only one way to get out of that. Maddy already

wanted to go. He was ready to take the trip. Everything rested on Angel. And after today, it didn’t

seem such an unwelcome journey after all.

Maybe we will go, Maddy, he thought, his mind numbing. Tears welled up and drained out.

Maybe we’ll go tonight, when everyone is asleep. Just slip out quietly and find out together

whether or not heaven really exists—if God is really out there—or we’re truly alone.

Chapter Twenty

Angels No More

“Fuck.” Faron Ryland stepped up to the urinal and unzipped, tugged himself out and commenced

to take a piss. His head dropped and he closed his eyes, groaning. “These fucking dancers, they tease

the fuck out of you, get you so hot to fuck them, then act like you’re disrespecting them if you offer to

pay for a go at their ass.” He shook his head.

The man at the sink merely grunted and washed his hands. Faron cast him a quick glance, then

gave himself a shake, tucked his goods back in his pants and fastened up. “Shit,” he muttered, stepping

over to the sinks. “I offered my guy over a grand and he still turned me down,” he huffed as he turned

on the faucet. “Who would have thought a stripper would have morals? What’s this world coming

to?”

Though he had yet to draw the man into a conversation, they guy was clearly alert to what he was

saying. Faron scrubbed his hands, rinsed, then turned off the faucet and shook his hands a couple of

times before drying. “Shit, I would have paid two grand to get my cock into that guy.” He wasn’t

lying, so he didn’t have worry that the man might pick up on any glitch in his voice. He would easily

pay over two grand for a turn at Cole. But he would take what he would get; though he wasn’t going to

get it unless he extracted the necessary information from this fucker.

“Two grand?” The guy murmured and looked at him with obvious interest. “No shit?”

Ah now we’re cooking. “No shit,” Faron nodded. “But all these guys, they’re pretty strict about

playing by the club rules. Just once, though, I wish one of them would accept an offer and let me fuck

their brains out. Mmm!” He shook his head and sucked air through his teeth. “Can you imagine?

Getting your cock in one of those rocking asses? The way they execute those lap dances—fuck.

They’ve got to be so fucking hot riding a cock.”

The guy cleared his throat then looked at Faron. “If you’re serious, I might have the boy for you.”

Faron’s brows arched, a smile sliding across his lips. “Yeah?”

“If you don’t mind them young and lean.”

“Fuck, baby, I love the young ones,” Faron grinned. Now that wasn’t entirely the truth. Oh the

young boys here were plenty hot and sexy, but the guys like Cole were the ones who got his blood

boiling and cock throbbing like nobody’s business.

“You willing to pay the two grand?” he asked. “My boy is guaranteed to do whatever you want.

Take it however you want to give it to him.”

“Two grand is pocket change,” Faron told him truthfully.

The man smiled, “Then ask for Angel.”

“Angel,” Faron murmured. “I like that. Sounds like I might just have one heavenly time.”

“Oh indeed,” the man nodded. “The boy’s got one angelic ass. I’ve sampled it myself.” He

winked and walked out of the restroom.

Faron stared after him. “Angel,” he whispered and smiled, his cock already stiffening in

anticipation of Cole’s payout.

* * *

The anxiety was present on both Cole’s and Gabe’s faces as Faron Ryland walked toward them

from the restroom. Max could feel the same tension pinching his brow. His stomach knotted. He had

no idea who the traitor might be, and a part of him didn’t want to know. But there was no getting

around it.

Faron took the stool next to Max but his eyes drifted past him to Cole, a smile playing around the

corners of his mouth. Max wasn’t privy to the deal Cole had made with Ryland, but apparently the

man was satisfied with it and seemed quite eager to collect.

“Did you get a name?” Max asked, drawing the guy’s attention.

“I did,” Ryland nodded, then glanced at Carl who lingered nearby as well. “Can I get a beer?”

Max nodded at Carl, “On the house.”

A bottle of Coors was set in front of Ryland, and he took a long drink as Max’s stared at him

impatiently. But, then, Max wasn’t exactly eager to know the identity of the boy who had betrayed his

trust.

Ryland set the bottle down and rubbed his hand over his mouth. “He said to ask for Angel.”

“What?” Gabe hissed, the shock in his voice the same as that suddenly coursing through Max.

“What?” Max shook his head, frowning hard. “Angel? No—no, that can’t be right.” He glanced

at Carl then to Cole and Gabe. Cole sat silently, staring at his drink, face pinched, but not expressing

nearly the level of shock as the rest of them. “Cole?”

Cole looked up, his eyes cutting to Faron Ryland. “Come in tomorrow night,” he said. Then he

turned to Max and asked, “Can I speak with you in your office?”

Disappointment pinched Ryland’s face—for he surely meant to collect on his deal today—but he

simply nodded in resignation and left the club. Neither Gabe nor Carl protested as Max and Cole

headed for Max’s office.

“What’s going on?” Max asked as soon as the door closed behind them. “Did you suspect

Angel?”

“No,” Cole said, then shook his head, a pained look on his face. “Well, not until Carl told me

who the fisher was.”

“I don’t understand.”

“When he was in here the other night,” Cole told him. “The guy seemed awfully interested in

Ricky and Angel’s stage lessons. But it wasn’t like he was watching them for entertainment.”

Max rubbed his face. “Fuck,” he whispered. “How can it be Angel? He just doesn’t fit the type,

you know?”

“I know,” Cole murmured.

Sighing, Max looked at Cole. “Should we call Dane in before we deal with this?”

A troubled look crept over Cole’s face. “I’m not sure Dane’s in any shape to be dealing with any

of this right now.”

Something in Cole’s eyes said he knew a whole lot more than he was telling. “Do you know

what went wrong between Dane and Angel?” asked Max.

Exhaling hard, Cole nodded and rubbed the back of his neck, eyes on the floor. “Yeah,” he

whispered. “And it’s...” his lips tightened, hurt seeping into his voice, “it’s fucking bad. I mean,

totally fucked up bad.”

“Is Dane all right?” Max asked quietly.

“No,” Cole admitted, “he isn’t. The guy is a fucking mess. And this here shit with Angel—it’s

just gonna fuck him up even more.”

Licking his lips, Max shook his head, throat tightening. “What do I do?” His eyes stung as he

looked at Cole. “I mean, Angel hasn’t been doing well since things fell apart with Dane. But what the

fuck am I supposed to do? If he has been soliciting customers, I have to let him go. Obviously there’s

a hell of a lot more going on with him than he let any of us know. Even Dane. I mean, I can’t believe

Dane would have gotten involved with him in the first place if he knew he was a...” A what? A

whore? His stomach churned. He just couldn’t see Angel as that.

Cole dropped down on the sofa, eyes filling. “Something’s wrong in Angel’s life,” he

whispered. “This morning Dane and I saw him out with this younger boy, maybe his brother, I don’t

know, but they were crying, like something was terribly wrong. But he wouldn’t talk to us. He just

walked away. But the boy—he had this look of despair in his eyes.” Cole shook his head and met

Max’s gaze. “I know you have to deal with this issue, Max.” The sheen in his eyes thickened and he

stood up. “But please let me try to talk to him first, before you send him away. I’m telling you,

something isn’t right in that kid’s life.”

“Okay,” Max whispered thickly. In many ways, Angel reminded him of Abel, which caused him

to feel protective of the boy. But even so, if Cole didn’t come to any conclusions with him,he would

have to send him out of the club. What other choice would he have?

* * *

“What’s wrong?” Angel had done his best to dry his tears and wipe the hurt from his face and

eyes before entering the small market, but he could feel the anguish resonating out of him, and Maddy

was picking up on it as well.

Angel shook his head and swallowed hard, a sudden wetness back in his eyes. But he blinked it

away. “Nothing for you to be concerned about,” he assured thickly. “I just wanted to let you know I’ll

be waiting down at the park. So when you get off work, come down there.”

Concern shadowed the boy’s eyes. “Angel, what’s wrong? You look sick.”

“I’m fine,” he whispered, a strain in his voice. “Just meet me at the park. I want to talk to you

about something before we go back to the apartment.”

Maddy agreed and Angel left the store, walking away quickly as his barely contained emotions

rose to the surface and overflowed. A block from the store, he broke into a run and didn’t slow for

two more blocks until he reached the park. It wasn’t a pretty park, like in TV commercials that

showed mothers sitting on benches watching their happy children play in the sand or slide down the

slides, or climb the little forts and swing on the swing sets. No, this was reality. Litter strewn about,

brown patches in the unkempt grass, weathered picnic tables. The only kids that frequented this park

were those smoking dope or drinking. There were no happy families here. No children laughing; just

the sounds of the heartless city, the stink of decay in the air. This was real life, not that fairytale shit

they showed on television.

Angel stepped up on the bench of a picnic table and sat on the top. The planks were gouged up

where pocket knives and switchblades had carved all over the surface; much of it was profanity, or

the occasional so-and-so ‘hearts’ so-and-so. But most of it was rude, derogatory words or phrases.

He stared at the table blankly, absently reading the crude carvings. His eyes lingered on the gouged

out words Life Sucks. And another—God hates you.

He looked away and dropped his head in his hands, his throat squeezing so tightly he could

hardly breathe. God hates you. Tears dripped down onto the faded bench seat, seeping into the old

wood. He tried to hold out the past, but it shoved its way in, crashing down on him. But this time

when he fell into the hands of the men on that stage—he saw Dane’s face on them both.

Which one were you? He screamed silently, his tears flowing harder. He hugged his stomach

hard and bent over as his cries rushed out of him. “Fuck!” His jaw clenched and he choked on his

sobs. “I hate you!” His arms tightened and his head jerked up, and he screamed in anguish, “I fucking

hate you!”

His body curled forward and he cried uncontrollably. Please hurry, Maddy. I want to go now. I

want out of here. I can’t be here anymore—I’m done.

* * *

When no answer came after the third knock, Max tried the door. It opened easily and he entered

the apartment, closing the door quietly behind him. A score of empty beer bottles littered the coffee

table, along with a couple of bottles of scotch—one empty, one well on its way to being empty.

“Dane?” Max called, but the place was silent. He walked to the stairs then climbed up to the loft.

The bed was a mess, the blankets half on the floor. The bathroom door was ajar and Max approached

it cautiously, a sinking feeling in his gut. “Dane? Are you here?” He pushed the door open slowly and

detected the broken mirror first, then the tacky blood that had seeped through the webbed cracks of the

remaining glass.

His eyes went to the floor where small puddles of blood congealed on the tiles. A bloody

handprint smeared the floor and one on the wall. Glass was scattered through the sink and all across

the tiles. But Dane was nowhere to be found.

Max’s gut tightened and his vision blurred. “Dane, baby, where are you?”

Please be okay.

~~~~

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