Abel 2: Hearts in Chaos

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Chapter One

Hearts In Ruin

The raindrops turned to ice and cut through the street lamps and neon bar signs,

reflecting gold, emerald, sapphire, crimson—pelting his face, hair, clothes, arms—
chilling him to the bone. Hands stuffed deep into wet pockets as drenched sneakers
sloshed through the gathering puddles on the sidewalk of the dimly lit street. He didn't
know how long he had been walking, or even where he was in the city. But he couldn't
stop, not even for a moment.

If he just kept going, moving forward, maybe he could stay one step ahead of the

nightmare biting at his heels. If it caught him—it would devour him, rip him apart piece
by piece, feast on him while his heart still beat, lungs still pumped air. He would
experience each and every excruciatingly painful bite as its teeth sank into the flesh of
his heart again and again.

Ice chunks clung wetly to his dark blond strands and slid down across his cold flushed

cheeks  like  bitter  tears.  Abel's  amber  eyes  were  shadowed—a  deep,  dark  gold  in  the
freezing  night—and  stared  blankly,  numbly  at  the  sidewalk  before  him,  watching  his
soaked shoes hit down, water squeeze through the surface. There was no feeling left in
his feet, his socks sopping, toes frozen. The t-shirt glued to his body like another layer
of  skin,  his  jeans  sucked  to  his  thighs  and  calves,  no  longer  a  barrier  to  the  rain  and
cold.

You'll catch your death out here. Isn't that what mothers told their kids when they

played out in the bad weather? But then—how the fuck would he know what concerned
mother's would say? His mother—along with his piece of shit dad—had left their eleven-
year-old-son and their eight-year-old daughter in a dank, freezing apartment to fend for
themselves, night after night, as they'd gone out drinking, getting high. When Abel had
went begging to the neighbors for food, he had finally come across someone who gave a
shit and turned their parents in for neglect.

The first couple weeks at the orphanage had been heaven compared to their

parent's apartment; warm beds and warm meals, heated rooms, no sudden outbreaks of
screaming and yelling, slapping and hitting, things breaking. It was the first time in his
young life that Abel had known peace.

And then Craig had begun volunteering, having come to them from a Christian

outreach center that helped kids get off the street. Everyone loved Craig—the kids and
adults alike. Except Abel—Jesse as he was known then. That first moment he'd looked
into those jade eyes—what he'd come to describe as puke green—he'd known there was
something wrong about the man. And more disturbing than the way he had looked at
Abel...was how his eyes had followed his little sister.

He was a good man. The best. Devlin's words burned through Abel's mind like hot

iron, searing, blistering. And where the well of tears had been dry for the last couple
hours, it began to refill, rising quickly, hot tears gushing out, warming his frozen
cheeks. His hands pulled from his pockets, trembling as he swiped the back of his right
hand across his face then wrapped his arms around his shivering body.

His whole life was devoted to helping kids.

Abel choked on a hard sob, the knot in his throat twisting and tightening as a flurry

of broken cries pushed out. There had been no cause—in Devlin's mind—that one of the
kids his brother was trying to help would take his life. Just some fucked up kid. Abel's
arms squeezed tighter around his gut, eyes clamping shut briefly, forcing out scalding
tears.

He wasn't fucked up until your brother fucked him! How could you not fucking know

what he was?! Or did you just not want to know? Did you look the other way while he
raped the kids he was supposed to be helping? Maybe you're no better than he is! As if I
would ever take anything from him—or you! I'd rather be a fucking whore!!

He was running again without realizing it, the icy rain stinging his face, melting

beneath the rush of burning tears. His mind must have been working on autopilot,
because at some point he cut into his apartment building and took the stairs two at a
time, falling against his door, hands shaking as he dug for his key. But when he jammed
it into the keyhole—the door was already unlocked.

A tremor ran through him and he, irrationally, expected Devlin to be waiting for him

inside. But the man didn't even know where he lived. He shoved open the door and
nearly stumbled inside, his freezing, aching body finally ready to give out.

Cole stood up slowly off the sofa, a tight frown squeezing his brow. “Abel...what the

hell...?”

The door slammed closed behind him and he dropped back against it, his legs finally

buckling, dropping him into a soiled, sobbing ball as he buried his head in his arms and
cried.

* * * *

The nausea was fierce, causing sharp pain to stab through his intestines. Devlin

wanted to puke but fought the almost uncontrollable reflex. His mind was numb as he
entered the club—again. When he'd come by earlier, Abel hadn't been here, and no one
had seen him. He couldn't tell Cole or Gabe what was wrong—because he didn't know.
Abel's freak out had left him dazed, confused, with no sense of rhyme or reason as to
what had set the boy off.

Cole had said he would check Abel's apartment, but that was hours ago. Wanting to

know where Abel was, that he was all right, Devlin had given Cole his number. But he
hadn't heard back from him.

Unlike last night when he'd first set foot in the Phoenix, tonight Devlin wasn't

enraptured by the scene, only vaguely aware of the sexy young man on stage, sending
the crowd into a frenzy of lust. He ignored the come on looks and occasional ass
grabber, and worked his way through the men to the bar. When he'd been here earlier,
he'd learned the bartender's name was Carl. He leaned across the bar to be heard above
the noise. “Hey Carl! Did Abel come back?”

The guy just shook his head as he made a customer a screw driver.

Shit! Devlin glanced around, eyes tight, looking for a familiar face. He turned back

to Carl. “Is Cole or Gabe here?” he nearly shouted, then flinched when a hand dropped
on his shoulder. A black haired, hot-as-hell guy in his mid-to-late twenties slid onto the
bar stool next to him and leaned close. Devlin's initial expectation was some kind of
sexual proposition.

“Gabe's...indisposed at the moment.” he spoke loud though his mouth was close to

Devlin's ear. “Cole still hasn't come back.” He drew back a little and held out his hand.
“I'm Dane.”

Devlin shook his hand, relaxing a bit when realizing he wasn't being hit on. “Devlin.”

Smiling, Dane nodded. “Well, I certainly see why you're known as Dr. Gorgeous

around here.” he chuckled.

Devlin shook his head and smiled, but it failed to remain stationary as it melted

back off his lips. He was getting worried about Abel. Where had he gone? Why had he
gone?

Clearly noting the anxious look on Devlin's face, Dane assured him, “Cole will find

him. Don't worry. Besides, the boy came from the streets. He's no babe in the woods out
there.”

The boy came from the streets. He frowned but didn't let it be known that this was

new information for him. Had he and Savannah lived on the streets? If so...for how
long?

Though he couldn't hear it over the noise inside the club, the rain was coming down

in buckets. Icy rain. When Abel had run out of the coffee chop, he'd only been wearing a
t-shirt and jeans. It was freezing out there.

Come on, baby. Come back to the club, or your apartment. Get out of the wet and

cold. I don't need you sick too. He swallowed hard, eyes burning. Just tell me what's
wrong, Abel. Tell me so I can fix it...so I can fix us.

* * * *

“Abel?” Cole's arms were around him, lifting him off the floor. “Fuck. Where have

you been? You're soaked.” The sobs refused to ease as Cole held him tight against his
warm body, hands rubbing up and down his back, lips against his cold ear. “Fuck, baby,
you're like ice. What's going on?”

Abel's fingers gripped Cole's shirt with effort, so cold he could barely bend his

knuckles. But he couldn't speak, just choked on his cries.

“Come on.” Cole led him towards the bedroom. “You have to get out of these wet

clothes before you end up in the hospital too.” In the room, he peeled off Abel's
drenched shirt then his pants. His briefs were soaked as well, and the man tugged them
off without hesitation then tucked Abel in bed, stuffing him beneath the warm blankets.
Cole rubbed his legs and arms through the blankets. “Abel...what happened?”

His teeth literally chattered as he hugged the blankets up tight around his chin, eyes

too heavy to hold open. Cole left the bed then returned moments later with a towel
and rubbed it through his hair, soaking up the excess wetness clinging to his strands and
dampening his pillow. Abel's breath hitched and cracked, stuttering in his throat, a
steady trickle of warm tears seeping from his closed eyes. He didn't want to sleep, but
knew it was inevitable; neither his body nor his mind could hold out any longer.

Cole kissed his chilled cheek. “We can talk later.” he murmured. “Right now, just

rest.  Sleep.”  When  he  started  to  leave  the  bed, Abel  thrust  a  shaky  hand  out  of  the
blankets and grabbed weakly at his arm. Cole sat down again and leaned over, touching
his  lips  to Abel's  damp  hair.  “I'm  not  leaving,  baby.  I  just  need  to  call  Gabe,  let  him
know  you're  home.  We've  been  worried  sick  about  you.”  Abel  nodded,  hard  shivers
racing through him. Cole left the bed and through his fogged mind he heard him talking
on the phone as if from a great distance away, though he was just in the next room.

Sleep dragged Abel down into its dark abyss before Cole came back, and when he

drifted to consciousness again, Cole was in bed with him, stripped down to his shorts.
He held Abel deep in his strong arms, the heat of his body flowing into Abel's, chasing
away the physical chill...yet failing to banish the chill that had settled deep in his soul
and trickled down into his heart, turning it to ice.

He pushed away thoughts of Devlin, his final words to Abel—“I'm falling in love with

you, baby”—and reached for sleep. Even the nightmares hurt less than the reality that
was  now  crushing  down  on  his  heart,  squeezing  the  life  out  of  him,  slowly  killing  him
one  broken  heartbeat  at  a  time.  If  not  for  Savannah...he  wondered  if  he  would  have
the  will  to  keep  breathing—or  if  his  heart  would  just  stop  cold  in  his  chest.  He  didn't
want  to  keep  breathing  when  every  breath  was  a  dull,  rusty  dagger  gouging  into  his
heart.

Cole's arms tightened when Abel's body shuddered with renewed sobs. The man

kissed the back of his head, whispering that everything would be okay. But it wouldn't.
There was no solution for this. Devlin would never believe the truth of what really
happened—he would never take the word of a filthy whore, a fucked-up kid, over the
pristine reputation of his beloved brother.

Chapter Two

Dazed and Confused

Head tipped down, Devlin rubbed his eyes, nursing yet another club soda. Dane had

long  since  been  propositioned  and  gone  back  to  work.  Though  he  had  said  he  would
send  Gabe  around  when  he  got  the  chance.  He  hadn't  eaten  since  that  morning  and
another level of nausea was presenting itself. Yet if he tried to eat now, it would surely
have disastrous results. His body ached for his bed at home, but he couldn't leave. He
wouldn't  leave  until  he  knew  where  Abel  was,  that  he  was  okay.  If  Cole  had  found
him...wouldn't he have called?

“A beer, Carl.” Gabe suddenly dropped onto the stool next to him. Devlin had

moved to the far end of the bar to get out of the main flow of lusty men, but had still
had his fair share of invitations.

Devlin wasn't in the mood for pleasantries. “What's going on? Where's Cole?”

“He's with Abel, at his apartment.” Cole nodded thank you at the bartender when he

brought the beer.

“What?” Devlin hissed. “Why didn't he call me?”

“Because.” Gabe said slow, calm as he sipped his beer. “He knew you would insist on

talking to Abel, and the boy...”

Devlin's chest tightened. “What? He what?”

“He wasn't in any shape to be talking—to anyone.”

His pulse quickening, Devlin swallowed tight. “Is he...okay?”

Gabe took a bigger drink of his beer. “Yeah. But he was drenched to the bone and

freezing cold...upset and crying.” Gabe twisted the beer bottle slowly, his lips tight as a
real concern pinched his brow. “Cole put him to bed. He was exhausted.”

Upset and crying. Devlin stared down at his hands, his face tight. What did I do,

baby? What the hell did I do?

“What the hell happened?” Gabe asked. “You two were good when you left here last

night, right?”

“Yes.” Devlin murmured.

“And today?”

“Yes.” he said quietly. “I saw Abel at the hospital...we were still good...we went for

coffee and then...” he shook his head, raking his fingers through his hair, agitated and
frustrated. “I don't know what the fuck happened. We were just talking and then it was
like someone flipped a switch and he just lost it...told me...” Tears burned at the
memory, his throat closing. “...told me he couldn't see me anymore...and then ran
out.”

Gabe rubbed his eyes. “And you didn't say anything to upset him?”

“No.” Devlin licked his lips slowly. “In fact...I had just told him that I wanted to help

him  pay  for  Savannah's  care.  But  he  wasn't  upset  about  that.  He  seemed...very
relieved.  Even  overwhelmed...but  in  a  good  way.”  he  shook  his  head,  jaw  tightening
with  frustration.  “I  don't  know  what  the  fuck  went  wrong.  The  subject  of  our
conversation  didn't  even  change—but  Abel  did.  He  got  upset  and  said  he  didn't...he
didn't want my brother's fucking money. When just moments before, he was prepared to
take it.”

A slight frown pinched Gabe's face. “Your brother?” he asked. “What is that about?”

Throughout the next few minutes, Devlin told Gabe about Craig, his passion for

helping kids, his untimely death and the life insurance money.

Shaking his head, clearly baffled himself as to Abel's sudden change in demeanor, he

asked, “At which point did Abel get upset? What exactly were you talking about?”

Devlin tried to remember. Abel had just asked him how his brother had died...”It

was when I told him how Craig had died.” he murmured. “About the kid taking his life
in his sleep.” He looked at Gabe. “He asked me where Craig had been when this had
happened.”

“And where was he?”

“He was a volunteer at an inner city orphanage.” Devlin said. “In Chicago.” He

glanced at Gabe again, and saw it—that same look that had come over Abel's face. The
man turned away, his hand covering his mouth as he stared blankly down at the bar.

“Fuck.” Gabe breathed so low Devlin barely heard the word.

“You know, don't you?” Devlin's pulse quickened. “You know why Abel got upset. Tell

me.”

Gabe slid off the stool, eyes troubled. “Go home.” he whispered. “You can't...talk to

Abel tonight anyway.”

“What aren't you telling me?” Desperation gripped Devlin's heart. Tears burned.

“Just tell me, dammit!”

“Go home.” Gabe said tightly.

“Fuck!” Devlin choked and stood up. “What the fuck are you keeping from me?

What's wrong with Abel?”

Shaking his head, tension pinched Gabe's face. “I have to talk to Cole.” A numbness

invaded his voice. “He has your number. He'll get a hold of you tomorrow.” He didn't
say anything more, just walked away.

“Fuck.” Devlin shoved both hands through his hair. Fear and despair roiled his gut,

making him feel even sicker. What in the hell? Why wouldn't anyone tell him what the
fuck was going on?

I don't care what it is, Abel—I'm not letting you go without a fight.

* * * *

Muffled voices pushed at the edges of Abel's sleep, and nudged him back to

wakefulness. He didn't know if the nightmares had come while he slept. If so, he didn't
remember them. But his body ached and his head hurt, throat sore and raw. Some part
of him had hoped that yesterday and last night had been the nightmare, and today he
would awake to find that Devlin was still a possibility and God hadn't just slapped him
down again—this time so hard that he had no will to get up again.

He rolled onto his side and a fit of coughs hit him, straining his stomach and making

his chest hurt.

“Abel?” Cole seemed to appear out of thin air, his hand pressing to Abel's brow.

“You're burning up.” Abel didn't feel hot as he began to shiver uncontrollably. Cole
tucked the blankets more securely up under his chin. “Just stay in bed. I'll go get you
some medicine, okay?” He kissed his forehead. “Gabe is here, so you won't be alone.”
He sank to his heels next to the bed and stroked his fingers through Abel's hair. There
was anguish in the man's pale gray eyes that he didn't understand. But rather than
voicing it, he simply kissed Abel again then left the bedroom.

Abel heard him speaking to Gabe, then moments later the door closed.

The shakes eased off for a few minutes and he started to drift back to sleep when

they hit again. He didn't know Gabe had entered the bedroom until he felt the mattress
depress behind him then Gabe's arms wrap around him. “Cole will be back soon.” he
said quietly. “The medicine will bring down your fever, and help you sleep.”

I don't want any medicine—just let me die. Warm tears filled his eyes and dripped

down onto his pillow, the swell of emotion bringing on another fit of coughs, delivered
with hard sobs. Gabe held him tighter and he felt the man tremble, then heard his low
sobs.

“I know what's wrong, Abel.” he choked softly. “I know about Devlin's brother.” Abel

shoved his face into the blankets and cried harder as Gabe hugged him securely.

“I...I can't ever...tell him.” Abel cried quietly. “Promise...you won't tell him either.”

“He won't stop.” Gabe whispered thickly. “Until someone tells him something.” He

pressed his lips to Abel's shoulder. “He's falling in love with you...you're everything to
him, Abel. He isn't gonna just walk away without an explanation.”

Able shook his head slowly. “I can't tell him.” The shakes grabbed him again and he

clenched his jaw until his face ached, struggling to keep his teeth from chattering. “I
won't.”

* * * *

This is so fucked up. Cole's steps were quick as he returned from the market on the

corner with a small bag of various cold medicines. He shot a hard look at the overcast
sky. You couldn't cut him some slack this one time? Just this one fucking time?

Cole tore his gaze from the sky in anger and stepped through the entrance doorway

to the apartment building—then halted so suddenly he nearly stumbled when he saw the
man sitting on the bottom steps of the stairs. “What're you doing here?”

Devlin rose to his feet slowly. “Gabe said you would call me. And when you didn't...”

“How...” Cole frowned. He liked this guy, but now was not the time for him to be

here. “How did you even know where Abel lived?”

“I waited outside the club until Gabe came out.” he admitted low. “Then I followed

him. He said he needed to talk to you.” he swallowed tight, his emotions bubbling at
the surface. “I thought about just coming in last night, but I knew Abel needed to rest.”

Cole sighed then stepped around Devlin. “He still does. He 's sick.”

“Sick?” Instant alarm erupted in the man.

“Just a cold.” Cole assured to allay the man's fears. “But a bad one. He needs to

stay in bed.”

Devlin grabbed his arm when he started to climb the stairs. “Please...I won't bother

him...just let me come up. Just...talk to me...tell me what the hell is going on. If I said
something, or did something—I have a right to know.” Desperation resonated forth.
“Just tell me so I can fix it. I'll do anything, I swear to God I will!”

Sympathy for the man surged through Cole, but he couldn't let the man in the

apartment, or near Abel. Not yet. “I don't know if this can be fixed.” Cole murmured
sickly. Just when Abel was on the verge of trusting someone's love—this had to happen?

“What can't be fixed?” Devlin demanded. “Fuck!”

The man's frustration was understandable and it ripped at Cole's heart. But

something like this couldn't just be spoken without careful preparation. And then, only
when Abel was ready. And Cole suspected that may not be for a long, long time—if
ever.

“You can't be here right now.” Cole said quietly, hurting for the doctor as much as

for Abel. The man was head over heels in love with the boy, and it was killing him to
know he had hurt him terribly, and yet not knowing how. “I'm sorry. But until Abel is
ready to talk...you can't come around. Here...or the club.”

“Cole...” Devlin choked. “Please...just tell me what's wrong? Whatever I did...or

said...I didn't mean to hurt him. I would never...” He covered his eyes with his hand,
biting back the tears, throat working to resist the sobs.

“I know.” Cole murmured. “And Abel knows it too.”

“Why can't I just talk to him?” the plea in his voice squeezed Cole's heart and stung

his eyes with tears. “Please...just let me say I'm sorry...even if he doesn't want to tell
me what I did. At least just let me apologize.”

Cole wiped quickly at his eyes, and cleared his throat. “You didn't do anything

wrong, Devlin. You don't have anything to apologize for.”

“I don't understand.” he shook his head. “Then what is it?”

Cole looked at him softly. “When Abel is ready to talk...I'll let you know. I promise.

But for now...you have to give him some space. If you don't...” Cole shook his head and
whispered, “You might lose him for good.”

Chapter Three

Unexpected Emotions

“Where's Abel?” There was a slight paleness to the young girl's face and she lay back

against the pillows, eyes tired.

“He's down with a cold.” Devlin told her. He tried for his doctor's voice but didn't

think he was pulling it off. To his own ears, his words sounded heavy, strained. This girl
was sharp, and saw a lot more than the average teenager. “I'm sure he'll be back to
visit you in a day or so.”

Her eyes followed him as he checked the readouts on the heart monitor, then began

taking her vitals. The ache inside him pushed up into his eyes and he avoided her stare.

“You look...sad.” she said quietly. “What's wrong?”

He shook his head and forced a smile, casting her a quick glance. “No, I'm fine.

There's nothing wrong.” Was there a special hell for those who lied to sick young girls?

Doubt shadowed her green eyes but she didn't press the issue. In fact, seemed too

tired to try and figure him out. She picked up her new camera off the table and set it in
her lap, fingering the buttons but not turning it on.

“How do you feel today?” Devlin asked softly.

She shrugged. “Not so great. Tired.” she whispered. “Kind of sick to my stomach.”

Devlin rubbed his hand over her hair. “Just try to rest.”

The camera whirred as she pressed the power button then slowly clicked through

the pictures she'd taken, eyes heavy with exhaustion and...a quiet despair. It was
common with those who had incurable conditions to have their good days and bad days;
at times feeling hopeful, then sinking into hopelessness. This had the feel of a bad day.

“I like this one the best.” she murmured then held the camera up to Devlin.

His heart clenched at the picture of him and Abel standing together, his fingers in a

peace sign behind Abel's head. That moment...when Abel had looked at
him...everything had felt right in his world, and the future...a place of hopeful
possibilities. Now it just seemed a distant dream turned nightmare. What had gone so
wrong?

“Did something happen with Abel?” she asked quietly. “Is that why you're sad?”

Devlin handed the camera back. “It's complicated, sweetheart.” his throat wanted

to close and he swallowed hard. So complicated I don't even know what the fuck it's all
about. Savannah had turned her eyes to the camera again, clicking through the pictures
once more. “If you like...I could print off those pictures for you on my computer at
home.”

“Really?” she raised her eyes and a faint glow lightened her gaze. It wasn't much,

but at this point Devlin would take any shred of happiness from the girl that he could
get.

“Yeah.” he smiled warmly. “It would be no problem. You can keep the camera here.

I'll just need to take the SD card.”

Savannah smiled, soft gratitude in her big eyes. “Thank you, Dr. Grant. You're a

really nice guy.”

Chuckling low, Devlin shook his head. It felt good to be called a nice guy. “Well,

thank you, darlin’. You're a really nice girl.”

Her smiled wavered. “When can I go home?”

“Dr. Jacobs thinks soon.” Devlin told her. “You're recovering from the pneumonia.

So...it shouldn't be long.”

“And then what?” she whispered, her eyes down, lingering blankly on the camera.

For a moment he didn't know what she meant, then understood. “Dr. Jacobs will set

up an appointment with the referral doctor at the AIDS clinic.” his jaw tightened with
emotion. He took hold of her hand and sat on the edge of the bed. “They'll take real
good care of you, honey. Get you the best treatment. I know how scary all this is...but
you're going to be okay. And you're going to live a long life. This doesn't mean your life
is over.”

Tears welled in her downcast eyes and she bit her lip. “When...when I saw the way

you and Abel looked at each other yesterday...” her chin trembled and a tear slid down
her  cheek.  “I  wished...I  could  have  that  too...with  someone...someday.”  Her  breath
hitched  and  another  tear  followed  the  path  of  the  first.  She  looked  up  at  him  and  his
heart broke. “But I can't...can I? I can't ever...be with anyone...or have a family.” She
shrugged  and  looked  down,  licking  her  lips.  She  wiped  her  face.  “I  always  wanted  a
family.” she whispered thickly. “It's always just been me and Abel. We've...we've never
had anyone else. I just wanted to know how it felt...to be part of a real family.”

Slipping his arm around her shoulder, Devlin hugged her as she cried softly.

“Sweetheart, there's lots of ways to make a family. And don't just assume that—because
of this condition—you can't ever let yourself fall in love.” he drew back, his chest tight,

breath uneven. “Once love decides it's your time, you might as well just accept it. And
once you find it,” he slid his thumbs across her damp cheeks. “You don't let it go—not
for anything.”

More tears welled up. “Are you...letting Abel go?” she whispered. “I know

something's wrong...but you said you wouldn't give up on him.”

“I did say that.” he nodded slowly. “And I meant it.”

“What happened yesterday?” she asked thickly. “You seemed so...happy. So did

Abel. I heard you ask him to go for coffee...”

Devlin shrugged and stood up, eyes stinging. He looked away and shook his head. “I

don't know what happened.” his chest squeezed and throat tightened at the memory of
yesterday's events that still had him in a state of confusion.”Maybe we're just not
destined to have coffee together.”

* * * *

The bedroom door closed quietly and Cole walked into the kitchen. Gabe glanced up

from the table, eyes troubled, concerned. “How is he?”

“Sleeping again.” Cole sighed and poured himself a cup of coffee then sat down

across from the man. “For now. His cold is bad, though. Not surprising. He was soaked
to the bone when he came in last night and freezing to the touch.”

A hard breath escaped Gabe and he stared at his cup of cooling coffee, face pinched

tight.

“What?” Cole asked. The man clearly had something on his mind.

Gabe looked up. “There's something I didn't tell you last night.”

Uncertainty darkened Cole's eyes. “What?”

Tapping his fingertips against the sides of his cup, Gabe sighed. “I just told you that

Devlin's brother was the same man who...” he licked his lips, hesitating.

“Yeah.” Cole nodded.

“But...” Gabe shook his head and ran his hand through his hair.

“What?” Cole pressed cautiously. What was Gabe holding back? Why wouldn't he

have told him everything last night?

Gabe cleared his throat and met Cole's eyes. “Devlin's brother was...murdered...by a

kid from the orphanage named...Jesse.”

Jesse. Cole's pulse quickened, his heart pounding. “Jesse...” he murmured tight,

frowning. “That was...”

Gabe nodded slowly. “Abel's real name.” he released another sharp breath. “He

didn't tell us that part of the story the other night.”

Fuck. “Abel...killed someone?” Cole's mind began to numb. He glanced towards the

bedroom and the broken boy inside. To look at him, one wouldn't think he could be a
threat on any level—other than sexually, maybe...or on the heart. No wonder the poor
kid was so devastated. To confess the truth to Devlin, he wouldn't just be telling the
man his brother was a sick pervert—but that the guy had died at his hands as well.
“Fuck.”

“What do you think Devlin's gonna do if he finds out Abel was the one who took his

brother's life?” Gabe asked anxiously. “You didn't hear the way he talked about the guy.
In  his  mind,  his  brother  was  a  fucking  saint.  Do  you  really  think  he  would  believe  the
guy would rape Abel? When he's so convinced his brother was all for helping kids?” He
rubbed the back of his neck fiercely. “Fuck, man—Abel could go to prison for murder.”
He  sat  back,  eyes  watering.  “That  would  be  the  end  of  him.  He  wouldn't  make  it
through  that.  What  Devlin's  brother  did  to  him...would  be  nothing  compared  to  what
they would do to him in there.”

Gabe stood suddenly, the chair rocking back, nearly toppling over. He raked his

fingers through his hair, tense, eyes filling up.

“Easy, man.” Cole left his chair. “Nothing is gonna happen to Abel. He didn't kill the

guy in cold blood. The motherfucker was raping him. It was self defense.”

A bitter laugh rolled up Gabe's throat. “And who's going to take his word for it? He's

a stripper for fuck's sake. Out there...strippers are just asking for it anyway, as far as
society is concerned.”

“He wasn't a stripper then.” Cole reminded. “He was just a kid.”

“Do you really think that's gonna matter?” Gabe shook his head. “It's what he is now

that people will look at. And all they're gonna see is a guy who bares his ass and makes
a living getting men hot and horny. You think people out there don't view all of us as
just a bunch of whores already? And then you put that up against the careful reputation
Devlin's fucking brother created for himself. Who's going to believe he sexually abused
kids?”

“Listen.” Cole gripped the side of his neck and pulled him closer. “We're not going to

let anything happen to Abel. Devlin has no idea that Abel was a part of any of that.” He
kissed Gabe. “And he doesn't ever have to know.”

Gabe closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to Cole's brow. “And what about him

and Abel?” he whispered. “They're crazy about each other. And it's the real thing. You
know Devlin isn't gonna just let this go, or let Abel go. Not without a damn good
explanation.”

“I know.” Cole wrapped his arms around the man's waist and held him tight, taking a

measure of comfort in the mere warmth of his body. “But...” his throat tightened
recalling the devastation in Abel's eyes last night at the realization that he'd lost Devlin
forever. “...it may be a necessary sacrifice...if we want to keep Abel safe.”

“He won't recover from this.” Gabe's voice thickened with sorrow for the boy. “It

wasn't enough that his sister is as sick as she is...the one thing that could've helped him
through had to be ripped from him too.” He drew back and his face was wet, though his
eyes were hard. “Maybe God does despise us all. He sure as fuck seems to have it in for
Abel. Does he take some kind of fucking pleasure in torturing the boy?”

Stroking his face, Cole shook his head. “I don't know.” he whispered. The man

trembled; he was honestly scared for Abel. Cole kissed him again then gently urged him
towards the sofa as they both dropped down on the cushions, wrapped around one
another. Their tension and fear fueled their passion as they grabbed and pulled at each
other's clothes, stripping one another down to nothing.

A strangled cry wrenched from Gabe when Cole pushed into him with urgency. They

clung to each other in desperation, their bodies moving together hurriedly, their grunts
and  pants  and  cries  escalating,  filling  up  the  small  apartment.  Tears  mingled  with
urgent  kisses,  fingers  clawing  slick  flesh,  gouging,  clutching  as  if  in  fear  of  the  other
pulling  away  suddenly.  They  had  never  been  together  like  this  before.  Their  sex  had
always been for pleasure alone, to simply make each other feel good. But this...it was
different. Cole had never felt so much emotion or passion in Gabe before while making
love, never experienced such desperation or need in his touch or his body.

Gabe's arms squeezed around him as the man fucked him harder, needing the

release, as if it would somehow ease his fears and worries over Abel. Gabe grabbed his
own cock in his tight fist and jerked off erratically as Cole fucked him with as much
urgency.

“Fuck!” Gabe cried out sharp, loud. “Fuck, Cole! Fuck me! Uuuhh!! I'm gonna fucking

cum!”

Shouting out his own ecstasy, Cole slammed hard and deep into the guy's ass and

unloaded with force, strangled yells bursting forth. Gabe came seconds later, shooting
hot juice up onto his chest. Panting hard, Cole dragged his tongue over the man's chest,
licking up his cum then kissing him. Gabe's fingers shoved into his hair, holding his head
firm as they kissed deep. Cole's heart did a sudden, unexpected flip-flop in his chest as

a funny tickling sensation zipped through his body, making him shiver with an unusual
delight.

What the fuck was that? Cole's heart pounded like crazy as their lips parted. He

could feel the shock resonating in his eyes and wondered if it was as obvious to Gabe—
as Gabe's shock was to him.

They had both felt it.

Chapter Four

Pattern Of Life

The next two days dragged by at a snail's pace. Abel ached to visit Savannah but was

sick at the thought of running into Devlin. When he started to consider going anyway,
the shakes would start. He couldn't look the man in the face. Maybe never again.

Cole had visited Savannah for him, though she repeatedly asked for Abel. When Cole

came home from the second visit, he brought a small envelope from Savannah.

“She asked me to give this to you.” Cole said when he handed Abel the envelope.

“What is it?”

Cole shrugged. “She didn't say.”

Tugging open the flap, Abel withdrew a single photo; the one of him and Devlin,

taken that day...that his life took its final leap into hell. His hands shook as he turned it
over. Savannah had scrawled a simple message on the back; You belong together.

He didn't know the tears were falling until he felt Cole's thumb slide across his cheek

and wipe them away. A hard sob broke out and he tore the photo to pieces. “No, we
don't!” he cried. “We don't belong together! I don't belong anywhere!” Cole grabbed him
and hugged him tight. Abel held onto him, sobbing. “It hurts so much. I don't want to be
here anymore. I just...I want to go away...where I'll never see him again...far away.”
Cole's arms tightened and he kissed his hair.

Far away. Overseas. Maybe Kaplan's offer didn't seem so unpleasant anymore. So

what if he had to fuck the guy? What did it matter anymore? At least he would be away
from here, away from Devlin—and the reality he couldn't live with.

He pulled out of Cole's arms and wiped his face. “I'm sorry.” he cleared his throat.

“Abel...you don't need to be sorry.” He rubbed his hand down the back of Abel's

head. “You're going through some unimaginable shit.”

Abel stared at the floor, the bits of the photo strewn around. That was his life now;

ripped apart beyond repair. “Everyone goes through shit.” he whispered tight. He
looked at Cole. “Can we go to the club?” His cold was still clinging on, but this
apartment was beginning to feel like a prison. He needed his customers—men who only
wanted his cock...and would leave his heart the fuck alone.

* * * *

When Devlin had seen Cole in the corridor the first time, he had no control over the

sudden spike that sent his heart through the roof. Was Abel there as well? He hadn't laid
eyes on the boy since the events at the coffee shop. Fuck—he was like a junkie in
desperate need of another fix.

But in approaching Cole, he had been given the cold shoulder, told that Abel wasn't

ready to talk and—again—receiving no explanation.

He had lost count of the number of times he'd driven by the club, and Abel's

apartment. At times parking and contemplating trying to talk to the boy despite Cole's
insistence to keep his distance. How long was he supposed to keep his distance?
Infinitely? There was no fucking way. He'd be damned if he was just going to go skipping
along his merry way without some explanation as to why his entire fucking world just
spontaneously blew apart into a million fucking pieces.

The second time Cole had shown up at the hospital—yet again without Abel—Devlin

had confronted the man once more in an attempt to get even a hint of what had went
wrong between him and Abel. Yet to no avail. He didn't understand the secrecy. Their
final conversation played over and over in his head as he scrutinized every tiny detail—
and yet it still made no sense why Abel had shifted so suddenly, just turned on him and
ran away. There had to be something he was missing, some piece of the puzzle he
wasn't seeing.

Or not wanting to see.

Why did that damn thought keep pushing into his head? Why would his subconscious

mind deliberately look away from the tell-tale cause of Abel's meltdown? Yet that one
little thought nagged at him, and over and over he went, retracing the conversation,
and still coming up with nothing. What could he possibly not be seeing? And why the
hell wouldn't they just tell him?

A ray of sun broke through the thick, black clouds and stabbed through the Sedan's

windshield, impairing his vision—like God poking him in the eye and telling him it wasn't
polite to spy on people. Even less polite to stalk.

It's their fault, he reasoned with himself and the man upstairs, making an attempt to

justify him being parked less than a block down from Abel's apartment waiting
for...what? He wasn't quite sure. They drove me to desperate measures. If they
would've just talked to me and told me the truth of the matter, I wouldn't have to stake
out his apartment and workplace.

Whether or not God bought into his justification remained to be seen. But it worked

for him. He perked up when Cole emerged from the building with Abel in tow. Devlin's
heart raced as crazily as if he hadn't seen the boy in months. God knew, it felt like that
long. Even from this distance, it seemed he could see every excruciatingly beautiful
detail of Abel's face. Another ray of sun dropped down on the boy's head, illuminating
his blond hair, creating a kind of halo. Devlin wouldn't have been surprised to see his
lovely angel sprout large beautiful white wings and fly back home to heaven.

“Oh man.” he groaned and gripped the steering wheel, leaning forward a hair as if it

could afford him a better look at the boy. “This is beyond desperate. You could be
arrested for this...surely.” This would look great on his record—'Young, promising intern
caught stalking hot, sexy male stripper.'

* * * *

Max leaned on the far end of the bar, talking casually with a customer. The guy was

younger than Max by a good ten years and though he didn't seem to be hitting on Max—
he was sure as hell flirting like mad. Abel didn't have to be up close to see that. It was
understandable. Max might have been a bit over forty, but he was a good looking man
with an extremely fit body. He rarely interacted with the customers, leaving them to
his boys, but he seemed pleasantly engaged with this one.

When he noticed Abel and Cole, he leaned close to the guy, spoke quietly in his ear.

The young man smiled and nodded, then twisted on his stool and watched Max leave
him and walk their way. Whether or not he'd propositioned the guy to hook up with him
later, Abel didn't really give a fuck. He didn't care to contemplate the man's affairs.
These days, he wasn't feeling too fond of Maxwell Raines.

“Abel.” he spoke low, with even a bit of caution, as if understanding how Abel was

feeling about him. “It's good to see you feeling better.” Abel just stared at him, and
granted him a slight nod. Max rubbed his chin absently. “Could I speak with you, in my
office?”

Abel followed Max without a word as Cole disappeared into the back. As soon as the

office door closed behind him, Abel found his voice. “Why did you tell Kaplan about
Savannah?” he demanded low, tight.

Max went to his desk, but rather than sitting behind it, rested against the front

edge. “I thought he should know what he should expect to pay out—if you accepted his
offer.”

“You had no right to tell him.” Abel insisted. “It isn't any of his fucking business. He

doesn't need to know what the money is for.” Tears simmered at the surface. God, he
felt like he was losing his fucking mind—and he didn't need Horatio Kaplan with a front
row seat to his impending insanity, adding his two cent's worth to help drive him over
the edge.

“I'm sorry.” Max offered sincerely. “I crossed the line and I apologize. I know how

you prefer to keep your private life—private.”

If you knew, then why the fuck did you tell him? He left the question unasked.

“Look, Abel...” Max rubbed his hand over his mouth and let it linger. “This isn't what

I wanted for you. In truth...” he met Abel's somewhat rigid stare. “...you deserve better
than all of this. It seems almost a waste. There's so much you could do with your life.”

Like what? Abel thought sourly. Honestly? What other asset did he have but his ass?

He hadn't developed any skills other than street survival and the art of seduction.
Besides, he wanted nothing to do with the world outside...or anyone in it.

“I like it here.” he mumbled, dropping his hostility. “I don't need anything else.”

Max sighed then smiled. “I wasn't implying you should leave.” he assured him. “I just

want you to know that I don't just see you as...a piece of ass with a dollar sign. I care
about you, Abel. And Savannah. In some ways...you feel like my own kids.”

Do all fathers pimp their sons out to the highest bidder? He wasn't being fair and he

knew it. Max had said straight up that he hadn't been planning on telling Abel about
Kaplan's offer, but for the money issue he had brought it up. But was that the truth? Or
had he conspired with Kaplan to get Abel to accept the offer? They seemed awful
social.

Abel just looked at him without response. Max sighed again and pushed off the front

of the desk and walked around behind it, sitting down. “I understand that Horatio wants
you to fly overseas with him on the weekends.”

How chummy was Max with this guy? Abel nodded, “Yeah.” he murmured.

“How do you feel about that?”

Abel shrugged.”Doesn't matter.” he muttered quiet. “I'll do it. The club will get its

share, Savannah will get her care, and me...” He gazed dully at Max. “I guess I'll get
fucked.”

But why change the pattern now? Life had fucked him in the ass from the start, and

Kaplan—as well as all the other shit dumping down on him—was just one more
indication that it didn't intend to stop.

* * * *

The Sedan sat in the same parking space as the first night Devlin had ventured to

the club. Again, he stared across the street at the front entrance. There weren't as
many customers filing in and out, being the middle of the day. And the music was much
lower. Yet now, it seemed even more daunting, the prospect of walking in there. How
many steps inside would he get before Cole or Gabe sent his ass packing? He hadn't seen
Gabe since the night he talked to him at the bar, but Cole had developed a tinge of
hostility—as if he thought Devlin meant Abel some kind of harm? But how could he think
that? Why would he think it?

He needed some fucking answers and he was damn sick and tired of being left in the

dark. He had every fucking right to know what he'd done to cause Abel to run from him.

Anger simmering his blood, he shoved open the drive door and stepped out. If they

wanted him to leave without answers—then they would have to pick his ass up and
throw him out.

Chapter Five

To See You Again

Unfamiliar tension stapled Cole's intestines, pinching, causing a funny tickle behind

his naval when he spotted Gabe at the bar, engaged in a casual conversation with Carl.
This was a new development—this funny feeling in his gut. He'd never experienced it
before with Gabe. Not with anyone, really. The man was quick to inspire other effects,
no doubt about it. Always had been. But this...was all new, and Cole wasn't sure how to
define it or deal with it.

That other day with Gabe, on Abel's sofa...it had been...strangely fulfilling in ways

their other encounters hadn't. And caused his heart to go a little crazy—kind of like it
was doing now.

What is wrong with you? This is Gabe. Fuck friend extraordinaire. But that's all. His

breath began to puff from his nostrils as he approached the bar and he had to force his
breathing back into normal range. He dropped onto the stool beside Gabe as if nothing
had changed and he had no invested interest in the man.

“Beer?” Carl asked.

“Yeah.” Cole glanced at Gabe. The guy twisted his glass on the bar top, a bit of

rigidness to his back. Gabe had never been tense—or nervous—around him before. Shit,
the things they had done together—it left no room for nervousness. You were either
comfortable with it or you weren't. And they always had been.

The customer pool was shallow at the moment, though it would pick up once the sun

started to go down. Something about the darkness seemed to nurse the belief that one
could hide their sins more effectively—as if God didn't have night vision. It wouldn't be
long before a crowd began to build.

“You went to see Savannah today?” Gabe asked suddenly, downing a portion of his

beer. He didn't look at Cole, just continued to twist the glass back and forth.

“Yeah.” Carl slid a fresh glass of Coors over to him and he took a sip. “She keeps

asking for Abel.”

“When is he going to visit her again?”

“Soon.” Cole murmured. “He doesn't want to go to the hospital, but he won't stay

away from his sister.”

Gabe sighed and pressed his lips tight. “Did you see the doc?”

“Yeah.” Cole nodded. “He isn't backing down. And I think he's starting to get pissed

that we won't tell him anything. He'll resort to drastic measures before too long.”

“Drastic measures?”

Cole looked at him and the guy finally met his eyes. “He's parked outside right now.”

shook his head and swallowed more of his drink. “Followed us from Abel's.”

Gabe cocked an eyebrow. “Does Abel know?”

“No.” Cole sighed, and glanced towards the entrance. “He'll be working his way

inside here pretty soon.”

Following his eyes to the door, Gabe asked, “And then what?”

“Don't know.” Cole admitted. “Abel is gonna have to tell him something. He isn't

going to go away. Not until he gets some kind of explanation.”

A different tension gripped Gabe. “It's too risky telling him the truth. What if he

went straight out and called the cops?”

Cole shrugged. “It's Abel's call. As of right now...he don't want to tell him anything.”

“Good.” Gabe whispered. The man had real affection and concern for Abel, which

Cole found painfully endearing and made him want to kiss the guy. And why not?

Cole reached over and grabbed the back of Gabe's neck, and leaned around in front

of him, planting a kiss on his lips—deep, warm. When he drew back, Gabe cleared his
throat and smiled uncertainly. “What was that for?”

“We need a reason now?” Cole wondered, his lips twitching, playing it cool. But fuck

—his heart felt like the rapid thump of a rabbit's foot, smacking his ribs. And his cock
was so freaking hard all of the sudden he nearly whimpered.

“No, I...” Gabe locked eyes with him, their faces close. Cole could feel the man's

breath, slightly quick, rushing through his nostrils. “I don't suppose we do.” Something
shifted behind those baby blues that both terrified and excited Cole beyond measure.
Gabe seemed about to go for another kiss when his gaze flicked past Cole and his face
tightened. “Doctor alert.” he murmured tensely. “Nine o'clock.”

Twisting around to his right, Cole spotted Devlin standing at the entrance, eyes

darting around anxiously—no doubt seeking Abel. He sighed when the doctor's gaze slid
across him and Gabe, and hardened with determination. “I got this.” he told Gabe and

abandoned the stool as Devlin walked towards them.

* * * *

I don't care if you can kick my ass—you're going to damn well tell me something.

Devlin wondered at his courage. He'd always considered himself more of the lover type,
than the fighter. But now, he swore he was ready to go fist to fist with anyone who
tried to keep him away from Abel any longer—even if it meant getting the piss beat out
of him. Which Cole was entirely capable of doing. Still, Devlin didn't hesitate as he
approached the man.

“Doc.” Cole shook his head slowly, lips tight. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“You know damn well what I'm doing here.” Devlin's pulse raced as his eyes

continued to snap around the club in search of Abel. “Where is he? And don't tell me he
isn't here, because I saw him come in with you.”

“So now you've resorted to staking out the place?” Even knowing the potential

danger Devlin posed, Cole couldn't help but like the man—and admire his loyalty to his
heart, and Abel. He was fighting for the boy the best way he knew how.

Devlin's eyes jerked back to Cole's face. “I'll do what I have to do.”

Rubbing his eyes, Cole shook his head again. “Abel doesn't want to see you right

now.”

“Why?” he felt like a broken record, asking the same fucking questions over and

over, yet receiving nothing in return.

“Devlin...”

“No.” his teeth clenched as his jaw tightened with emotion. “No, Cole...you fucking

point me in his direction or tell me why the fuck I can't talk to him. I am sick of this
bullshit. If I did something wrong, then you fucking tell me.”

The man's hands clamped to his hips, his troubled eyes drifting to the floor.

“Devlin...it isn't that easy.” he whispered tightly. “I can't tell you.” he lifted his eyes.
“And Abel won't.” he swallowed thick, anguish seeping into his gaze. “I like you, doc. I
do. And I know your intentions are good. I'm not trying to keep you away from Abel
because I think you're just bullshitting him or using him. It isn't anything like that. But,”
he licked his lips, a slight gloss to his eyes.

“Please just trust me when I say—Abel has good cause for not telling you everything.

And in all honesty...you don't want to know.”

Devlin shook his head, throat knotting. “I do.” he said thickly. “I need to know so

I...so I can fix it.”

“That's just it, doc.” Cole murmured. “This can't be fixed.”

“God dammit, Cole!” Devlin choked. “Stop talking to me in fucking riddles!”

The man rubbed his mouth, the sheen in his eyes thickening. “Devlin...you have to

let it go.” his lips tightened as emotion squeezed his face, sympathy resonating forth.
“You have to let Abel go.”

What?! Devlin's heart crashed inside his chest. Was he serious? Just walk away

without a fucking word? Not even allowed to know why he was abandoning the best
thing that ever happened to him? Bullshit!

“No.” the tears were there and rushing down his face. “No, Cole! I won't! Not like

this! I want to see him—Now!”

* * * *

Just go away. Please go away.

Abel gripped his hair, back pressed hard against the inside wall of the alcove that

led up to the VIP room. He could see Devlin, hear him insisting on talking to him. The
man wouldn't be dissuaded. Abel inched further back in the shadows and hugged his
waist, half bent over, praying to a God who hated him to please make the man leave.
But true to form—God wasn't on his side.

Cole appeared in the doorway. How he knew Abel was right there, he had no clue.

The man seemed to have a sixth sense at times. “You have to tell him something.” Cole
said. “He isn't going to leave until you do.”

“I can't.” Abel choked.

“I didn't say you had to tell him the truth.” Cole explained. “Lie to him if necessary.

But tell him something that will send him on his way...and keep him away.” He touched
Abel's shoulder. “If that's what you want.”

It wasn't what he wanted. Not really. Every second away from Devlin was like a red

hot spike being driven through his heart. The man consumed him. “Can't you...just
make him leave...please?”

“He won't listen to me.” Cole said quietly. “He needs to hear it from you...whatever

you choose to tell him.”

“Cole...” Abel choked on a sob. “I can't see him. I can't look in his eyes, knowing the

truth. I will never tell him.”

“I understand.” Cole nodded slowly. “The risk is too great.”

Abel shook his head, crying softly. “It isn't because...I'm scared of prison.” he raised

his  head  and  looked  at  Cole.  “His  brother  was...everything  to  him.  The  man
is...dead...he can't hurt anyone anymore. But if I tell Devlin...he will lose him all over
again...and  I  know...” Abel  ducked  his  head  and  cried  as  Cole  slid  his  arm  around  his
shoulder.  “I  know  that...it  would  hurt  him  so  much  more  to  lose  his  brother  like
that...than  it  would  be  to  lose...me.  As  much  as  I  hated  Craig...I  won't  do  that  to
Devlin. It isn't his fault his brother was the way he was. Why should he have to suffer
too?”

Pulling Abel into his arms, Cole hugged him tight and kissed his hair. “You really are

an angel, you know that, baby?” he whispered thickly. “But don't be too quick to think
that his loss of you will be any less, or the pain any easier to bear. The man is
desperately in love with you.” he kissed his hair again and let his lips linger. “As you
are with him.”

Abel trembled at the truth in Cole's words. He was in love with the man...which

turned out to be just more evidence of God's cruel, twisted humor. Let’s see how many
daggers we can stab into the little faggot's heart before it just stops beating.

* * * *

Devlin sat at the bar, head in his hands, eyes closed. He felt Gabe's eyes on him but

didn't speak to the man. All the questions were pointless; neither Gabe nor Cole would
tell him a fucking thing. Or couldn't tell him—not without Abel's permission. They were
loyal to a fault to that boy. Which he found admirable—if not frustrating as hell.

When a hand dropped on his shoulder, he jumped, his head jerking up. Cole stood

beside him. Devlin looked past him quick but saw no signs of Abel. His heart sank and he
wanted to just drop to the floor and curl into a ball, and cry himself into oblivion. Not a
vision of composure and strength, but so true to how he felt at that moment.

“He's waiting in the VIP room.” Cole said and Devlin's heart jumped. He started to

slide off the stool when Cole stopped him. “He isn't waiting there to work this out.” he
told him. “You let him say what he has to say, and...when he asks you to leave...you
leave.”

Devlin just stared at him. The man's words should have had a crushing force, but all

he could focus on was the reality that he would see Abel, talk to him. As far as what
would actually be said—he would deal with those semantics when the time came.

Right now...he just needed to see his beautiful angel.

Chapter Six

Lost Soul

This was a bad idea. Beyond bad—monumentally horrible. What had he been

thinking?

When the door opened and Devlin stepped through, Abel turned his back quickly. He

couldn't look the man in the eyes as he shoved him out of his life. Maybe this was the
lesser of the two evils—he would surely suffer so much more if he were told the truth—
but he didn't know that. And in not knowing...this would crush him. As it was crushing
Abel now.

The man hesitated just inside the door. “Abel...”

“Don't.” Abel whispered, his throat already tight, squeezing, asphyxiating his words.

“Don't talk, just...listen.”

“Okay.” The tiny note of hopefulness in Devlin's voice stabbed and ripped at Abel's

heart. Despite everything Cole had surely told him, the man still held out hope that
they could fix this and then be together.

Why do you have to care so much? Abel fidgeted, his fingers playing absently with

the stereo. He shouldn't have chosen to speak with him in here. Far too many recent
memories to fuck up his thoughts. His ears followed the man as he walked across the
room, keeping a fair distance from Abel. He didn't speak, but simply waited for Abel to
start.

To lie to the man was beyond his ability. But neither could he tell him the truth. He

had  to  find  a  middle  ground  and  make  Devlin  accept  it.  He  cleared  his  throat  as  it
clogged  with  tears.  “I'm  sorry.”  he  offered  quietly.  “For...running  out  on  you.  I  want
you  to  know  that...what  you  offered  me...”  he  bit  his  lip  as  tears  rose  up.  “...it  was
more  than  anyone  has  ever  tried  to  do  for  me...or  Savannah.  And  it...it  means
everything to me that you would care that much...for either of us.”

“Abel.” Devlin stepped towards him. “The offer still stands-”

“No.” Abel held up a hand without facing the man, trying to breathe past the

swelling in his throat. “Don't.”

He could hear Devlin's frustrated breath rushing in and out of him, breaking slightly

as his emotions swelled to the surface.

“I can't...accept it.” Before Devlin could reply, he added quickly, “Please don't ask

me why. I won't tell you. I...can't.” Warm tears broke loose and crept down his cheeks.
“I  just  need  you  to  know  that...I  don't  hate  you.  And...none  of  this  is  your  fault.  So
please  don't  blame  yourself.  I  need  you  to  trust  me  enough  to  know  that...”  he
squeezed his eyes shut, covering them with one hand, his body shaking. “That I would
never...push  you  away  without  good  cause.  You  were  right...we  were  perfect.”  his
other  hand  covered  his  face  and  his  head  dropped  as  he  cried.  “But  we're  not
anymore...and we can't ever be again.”

Devlin was suddenly behind him, arms encircling him. He turned and clung to the

man, unable to do anything else. Devlin's hands buried in his hair, gripping gently, his
lips pressing to his head. “No, Abel.” he choked. “I won't accept that. I can't. You can't
do this to me, baby. You can't just sweep into my life like this, turn my world upside
down, steal my heart...make love to me the way you did...and then run away.” His
body tightened as sobs pushed out of him with force. “That isn't fair, dammit!”

“I'm sorry.” Abel cried, clutching his shirt, his face buried in his throat, breathing

him in one last time. “I'm sorry.”

“No, I don't want your fucking apology, Abel.” Devlin choked and pushed him back,

gripping his face. “I just want you.”

“Stop.” Abel squeezed his eyes tighter, refusing to look at the man. “Just

stop...please!”

“No!” Devlin cried openly, his hands shaking. “I love you, Abel! I don't how it

happened so quickly or why it hit me so hard, but it did! And I'm not letting you go!”

“You have to!” Abel pulled at his hands but the man wouldn't budge. “God dammit,

Devlin! Just go! Leave me alone! I don't want you here!”

Devlin pulled him against his body, holding him so tight he couldn't move. He

clutched the back of Abel's head, kissing his hair. “You're lying, baby.” he choked. “Why
are you lying to me? What is this all about? Just tell me and I promise...” he lifted his
face and kissed his lips, choking on a sob. “I promise I'll understand. I will. I won't turn
on you, I won't leave you. Just tell me, baby—please.”

When Devlin kissed him again, Abel clutched at him in sheer desperation, their

clothes coming off in a rush. Devlin had him in his arms, down on the soft carpet,
shoving into him, stroking, thrusting, his lips never leaving Abel's mouth. They rolled
over and Abel straddled him, fucking him urgently, eyes closed, not looking directly at
Devlin, terrified of getting lost in that ocean of blue, certain he would drown there.

The man grabbed his hips, moving him in rhythm with his own body, pushing up

inside him, deeper, harder, faster. Abel clawed his arms and cried out, back arching as
he rode his cock with desperation. “Uuhh!!” he choked on a cry of ecstasy and dropped
down against the man, his face shoving into his neck. He grabbed salty skin and sucked
hard, biting the delicious flesh, wrenching cries from Devlin as he rolled them over
again and fucked the boy with reckless abandon.

Abel clung to his slick, hot body, lips pressed against his shoulder, hard breaths

puffing out of him as the man took him to heaven all over again—as he'd done the first
time they'd met in this room. Can't we just stay in here forever? Never leave? He cried
and clutched at him more desperately. I lied, baby! I don't want you to go! Please don't
leave me! Please don't hate me!

“Abel!” Devlin cried out sharp, his body tightening, straining. “Fuck! Baby!”

A strangled cry tore up Abel's throat as the heat and friction of Devlin's body

massaging Abel's cock between them pushed him over the edge. His fingers gouged the
man's flesh and he came hard, screaming, arching, body writhing in sweet sexual agony
as Devlin shoved into him hard and emptied himself with a sharp, loud cry. He clung to
Abel, working out his orgasm until finally they were laying still, breath bursting from
their fevered bodies. His fingers pushed through Abel's damp hair and he kissed him
again.

Shoving the man onto his back, Abel lay on top of him and opened his eyes,

releasing a stream of warm tears. He stroked the man's face as he gazed into those
midnight pools. His fingertips played across Devlin's damp brow then caressed down his
temples and across his cheeks. I love you. I'll never stop. I wish...Abel halted his
thoughts and shut them off. Wishes were for those God cared for. Not for the ones he
had forsaken.

* * * *

Abel's lips touched the warm, damp skin between Devlin's eyes then rested his brow

against the man's head. “You have to go now.” his voice shook as the words fell from
his trembling lips. He pushed up off Devlin, warm tears dripping from his face, landing
gently on Devlin's chest. “You can't...come back.”

“Abel…no…” Devlin reached for the boy but he was already out of his reach...in

every sense of the word. He crawled to his feet and dressed, hands shaking, body
growing numb. Abel pulled on his clothes, eyes blank, excreting tears in a steady flow.
Devlin went to him but he drew away.

“I need you...to leave.” Abel cried softly. “You have to...forget about me.”

“I can't do that.” Devlin choked. “How can you even ask that...after we just made

love?”

Shaking his head, Abel broke from his stance and walked towards the door. “You're

not welcome in the club anymore.” Abel choked on a sob and opened the door. “Don't
come here anymore.”

Stop him! Don't let him walk away! But Devlin couldn't move, couldn't speak, as the

boy slipped out the door and was gone.

* * * *

“Abel?” Cole caught up to him as he moved quickly towards the club entrance. Abel

didn't slow, didn't acknowledge the man until he grabbed his arm and stopped him.
“Abel, where are you going? Are you...okay?”

Abel just stared at him, eyes swimming. “Fan-fucking-tastic.” he told him bitterly,

“Can't you tell?”

“Abel...” Cole tightened his grip when Abel tried to pull away. “Where are you

going?”

He could feel the emptiness in his own eyes as he stared at Cole dully. “Where

else...to hell.” He jerked his arm loose and walked out, dragging his cell phone from his
pocket and calling a cab.

When he reached his destination, the door opened on the second knock. Abel stared

at the man, forcing down his emotions, not willing to let him see how weak he was at
that moment.

“Abel.” Horatio Kaplan raised a slow eyebrow. “I wasn't expecting you till morning.”

“Can we leave tonight?” Abel whispered, voice thick. So much for hiding his

emotions. Tears glossed and blurred his vision.

Kaplan stepped back and Abel entered the penthouse. This time when the door

closed behind him, he didn't feel trapped inside. But rather that the world—was trapped
outside.

And that's how he preferred it.

“We can leave tonight.” Kaplan watched him curiously. He walked to a small bar in

the corner. “A drink first?”

Abel stared at him, then approached the bar. “Yeah.”

“What's your poison?”

Life. “Whatever.” Abel whispered dully, his eyes locked on Kaplan. The man poured

their drinks then came around the end of the bar and handed Abel the small glass. He
looked at it a moment—if only it were real poison—then drank it down in one shot.

Kaplan smiled. “Easy.” he murmured. “The finest things in life...” he touched the

back of his fingers to Abel's face. “...are meant to be savored.”

His heart pounding, feeling everything good in him drain away, Abel covered

Kaplan's hand and moved it down to his crotch, massaging the man's palm against his
cock. “So you're saying...you don't want a wild fuck on top of the bar?”

Kaplan's lips twisted slowly. “A little uninhibited indulgence can be good for the

soul...now and then.”

Who in this room has a soul?

Chapter Seven

All Out Of Love

The sound of Cole's voice halted Devlin as he went to push open the door to

Savannah's room. He hesitated, a slight shake developing in his gut. Abel wasn't in
there, he could feel his absence...like a huge, empty black hole.

“Where is Abel?” Savannah asked the man, worry straining her words. Devlin

lowered his eyes to the floor and gazed blankly, hand resting against the door, holding
it open just an inch or so. It was because of him that Abel wasn't here.

“He had something to do this weekend.” Cole told the girl. “But he said to tell you

he promised he would be here to visit you first thing Monday morning.”

Silence settled over the room momentarily, then Savannah's soft, unsteady voice,

“Is Abel okay?”

A slight hesitation before Cole answered, “Of course. Why would you think he

wasn't?”

Devlin knew that tone of voice...the one a person used when nothing was okay but

you couldn't tell it that way. Abel wasn't close to being okay.

Rather than answering his question, she asked another, “Did he get the picture?” she

asked softly. “The one of him and Dr. Grant?”

Devlin tensed. The photos he'd printed off for her—she had given that one to Abel?

His eyes stung and heart swelled with love and adoration for the girl. She wanted this—
even if Abel didn't. He does. You know he does, but...

But what? Devlin didn't have a fucking clue. He was as much in the dark as ever, if

not more so. Whatever was wrong that was keeping Abel away from him—it was bad.
Real bad. The boy's love making had been an act of desperation, his way of saying
goodbye. Letting Devlin go.

He wanted to go back to the club, keep fighting, insist on being told the truth until

someone clued him in. But after yesterday with Abel...he knew there was no point. All
was said and done. Abel had let go...for good.

* * * *

“I gave it to him.” Cole's heart squeezed at the memory of Abel's reaction. We don't

belong together! I don't belong anywhere! The thing was—he did belong with Devlin.
There was no one more perfect for him.

“Did he...like it?”

Cole forced a smile. “He loved it.” he lied, but the hesitation was clear in his voice,

and the girl was much sharper than she should be. Still, she just gazed at him doubtfully
but didn't question him.

“What is he doing?” she asked quietly, picking at the blank. Cole resisted the

extreme need to scream at the heavens and demand God tell him just what the fuck He
was doing to these kids—and why?

“I—” He clammed up when Devlin pushed through the door. The doctor maintained a

professional  demeanor  as  he  offered  Savannah  a  polite  smile  and  asked  her  how  she
was  doing.  Her  green  eyes  followed  him,  tight,  concerned.  She  knew  something  was
wrong—with  both  Abel  and  the  doc.  Her  gaze  finally  returned  to  Cole  after  she  told
Devlin she was doing okay.

Cole cleared his throat and, though the doctor avoided meeting his eyes—he knew

the man would hang on his every word, perhaps in hopes of discovering a pebble of a
clue as to what was truly wrong with Abel. “I don't know what he's doing. He didn't say.
Just that...he had to take care of something and he would be in to see you on
Monday...and for you not worry about him.”

But Cole was worried about him. He knew what had happened between Abel and

Devlin  in  the  VIP  room.  It  was  expected.  But  whatever  he  had  said  to  the  man—had
crushed the boy. The devastation had been evident in his eyes when he'd rushed out of
the  club  yesterday.  Devlin  hadn't  said  a  word  to  either  Cole  or  Gabe  when  he'd  left  a
short  while  later.  The  man  had  been  as  much  demolished  as  Abel.  Even  now...Cole
could sense the devastation in the doctor.

The unknown whereabouts of Abel had Cole on edge as well. When he'd gone to his

apartment, the boy hadn't been there. Later, he'd received a text from Abel telling him
he had something to take care of, then gave the message to relay to Savannah. Cole
had text him back but got no reply. Then he had called, but was sent straight to voice
mail; Abel had turned off his phone. He had no idea where the boy was...or what he
had to take care of.

* * * *

Last night's consumption of liquor was far beyond the norm for Abel. He barely

remembered anything after arriving at Kaplan's penthouse and...engaging in wild sex on
the bar. It could have been his numb mind that wiped out the rest of the night, along

with the aid of the liquor. If only it had reached back further into the day and erased
his encounter with Devlin as well.

The flight across the Atlantic was one long, hazy fuck fest that ended with Abel

waking  to  bright  sunlight  piercing  the  small  thick  windows  of  the  plane,  heating  his
face.  Silk  sheets  encased  his  nude  body  and  his  head  pounded  like  a  motherfucker.
Nausea—brought  on  by  multiple  sources—twisted  his  guts  and  he  had  to  stumble  from
the bed and hope the door he rushed through was the bathroom. For once, luck was on
his side and he dropped to his knees before the toilet, vomiting forcefully.

When he made his way back into the bedroom, he realized for the first time that the

plane  was  stationary.  Clothes  were  laid  out  on  the  end  of  the  bed  with  a  small  black
travel  bag  sitting  on  top  of  them.  He  glanced  around  but  the  room  was  empty.  Inside
the  bag  was  a  toothbrush,  toothpaste,  deodorant,  mouthwash  and  a  small  bottle  of
Egyptian  musk  as  well  as  a  few  other  necessary  items.  He  opened  the  cap  of  the
cologne and sniffed it. It wasn't like the typical musk cologne he was used to smelling
on his customers. This was more...elegant. The scent of a rich man.

He showered, brushed his teeth, and used the mouthwash to eradicate the vile

lingering taste of vomit. A towel wrapped around his waist, he returned to the bedroom
and picked up the clothes. A casual suit but clearly expensive. He'd rarely owned
anything snappier than t-shirts and jeans.

“I hope it's to your taste.” Abel flinched when Kaplan entered the room, nicely

dressed, looking as fresh as a bright spring day. There was no evidence of last night's ill
effects as Abel knew resonated in his own eyes. The headache remained, growing
stronger.

“It's...fine.” Abel mumbled.

“Here.” Kaplan approached and handed him a small pill bottle. “For the headache.”

Abel took it without question. The pinch in his face was enough to alert anyone that

his head was about to crack open. “Thanks.”

The man reached into the travel bag and took out the cologne, opened it then

dabbed just a tiny bit on Abel's neck below his ears. “It's strong...so it only takes a small
amount for the proper effect. Don't want too much.” He leaned close and breathed in
the scent off Abel's skin. “Mmm. Perfect.” he drew back, smiling. “It suits you.”

Abel kept his eyes averted, fingering the soft material of the white shirt in his

hands.

“Last night was...” the corner of Kaplan's mouth twitched as he slid his thumb across

his lower lip thoughtfully. “...quite enjoyable. Though I suspect you don't recall much of

it.” Abel sighed and swallowed thick but kept his gaze off the man's face. “But as
stimulating as it was,” he went on, “I know that wasn't really...you.” He reached out
and brushed his fingertips across the surface of Abel's damp hair. “I don't know why you
came to me early, or what had you so upset. I don't need to know. That's your business.
Full disclosure of your personal life isn't part of the contract.”

The contract. Abel licked his lips slowly but remained silent. Now, fully aware

without liquor and a numb mind to dull his senses...Kaplan's touch was making him
uneasy. But he resisted pulling away and struggled to calm his racing pulse.

The man's fingers brushed down the side of his neck. “But tonight...” he spoke low.

“Tonight  it  will  be  real.  No  drinking,”  he  smiled,  “Well,  maybe  some  wine,  or
champagne.  But  nothing  so  severe  as  to  blind  the  senses.”  His  hand  caressed  down
Abel's arm. “I want to savor you...taste each and every flavor your body has to offer.”
He  lifted Abel's  hand  and  kissed  his  fingers.  “Did  you  know  that  different  parts  of  the
body  put  off  alternate  flavors?”  he  smiled  again  and  rubbed  his  lips  across  Abel's
knuckles.  “I  bet  you  taste  of  every  flavor  of  the  rainbow.”  Abel's  breath  shuddered
slightly  and  Kaplan  released  his  hand  slowly.  “Get  dressed  and  then  we  can  go  out  to
breakfast.” He lifted a neat eyebrow. “Have you ever had breakfast in Paris?”

As if he didn't know the answer to that. Abel shook his head slowly. “No.” he

whispered.

“Then it will be my honor to be the first to share the experience with you.” He

touched Abel's chin and turned his face, then kissed his lips. “I didn't bring you along
just to warm my bed, Abel.” He caressed Abel's lips with his thumb. “A boy like you
doesn't belong in a brothel like the Phoenix club...groped and sweat on by filthy pigs.”
His thumb slid up over his cheek. “You deserve the finer things of life. You're too good
to waste away in a dirty strip club.”

So it's more honorable to be a rich man's whore? Makes it all better because you

dress me up nice—like your own personal Ken doll? Splash some expensive scent on me
to cover the stench of sin? Abel drew away from his touch. “I like the Phoenix.” At least
at the club everyone was who they appeared to be, and what you did there was—what
it was. No pretenses.

“Perhaps because you've never been introduced to anything else life has to offer.”

Kaplan murmured. “Well, it's time that changed. And trust me—it won't take long
before you will want something better for yourself.”

Something better. This was better? Playing concubine to the King? How many times

you gonna fuck me, your Majesty, before you toss me back into the gutter with the rest
of your discarded whores?

The thoughts remained private, unspoken. What did it matter anymore? When

Kaplan left him to get dressed, Abel began to pull on each article of clothing. Even the
underwear  had  the  look  and  feel  of  being  expensive,  and  fit  just  snug  enough  to  be
alluring  without  being  immodest.  As  the  soft,  sleek  fabric  caressed  his  skin,  Abel
couldn't deny that he could get used to slipping into fine clothes, sleeping between silk
sheets,  and...never  again  having  to  wonder  if  enough  cash  would  be  stuffed  into  his
crotch to pay the bills or buy Savannah the things she needed.

He picked up the midnight blue, silk tie and stared at it lying delicately across his

palm. The color of Devlin's eyes. Emotion tried to push in and he fought it with all his
strength of will. Devlin couldn't exist to him anymore. He couldn't allow it.

In front of the mirror, he attempted to put on the tie but had no idea the maze in

which to tie it. Kaplan appeared behind him and reached around with both hands. “Let
me show you.” his lips brushed Abel's ear. “It's really quite simple once you get the hang
of it.” Once it was fixed—he tugged it loose again. “Now you do it...like I just showed
you.”

Abel cleared his throat and made the attempt again, and failing. Kaplan chuckled

low and guided Abel's hands until he got it right, then made him do it by himself again—
this time succeeding.

“There.” Kaplan rested his hands on Abel's shoulders. “See. Not so complicated after

all.” Abel just stared at him in the mirror. “So how do you like this look?” Kaplan
surveyed his image and smiled with approval. “You clean up very nicely.”

Licking his lips, Abel shook his head slowly. “It isn't me.”

“Maybe it is.” Kaplan said quietly and touched his lips to Abel's hair. “And you just

don't know it yet.”

A hard breath pushed out of Abel. “Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?”

“All this.” Abel stepped away from him and turned around to face him. “I'm not here

for a change of lifestyle.” he yanked off the tie and threw it on the bed. “Or to be your
dress-up whore.”

Kaplan ducked his head slightly. “Ouch.” he murmured dryly as Abel stepped into

the bathroom and closed the door hard.

Chapter Eight

Wages Of Sin

“Where do you think he is?” Gabe took a swallow of beer.

Cole shrugged, sitting with his back to the bar, watching the crowd of men, not

really caring to be singled out tonight. He shot Gabe a sideways glance and realized he
would much rather take him into one of the booths and fuck him for free. He cleared
his throat. “I don't know. This isn't like him to just take off this way, not tell anyone
where he's going.”

“Do you think Max knows?” Gabe asked. “Abel tells him everything.”

“Possibly.” Anxiety twisted Cole's guts. Something was up with Abel—more than just

his issue with Devlin. Why wouldn't he tell them where he was going? What he had to
take care of? He was beginning to understand how Devlin felt at being left in the dark.

“God, I wish this was my night off.” Gabe murmured and downed more beer. He

leaned on his elbows, back to the crowd, about as interested in work as Cole was. “I am
just not in the mood.”

I am, Cole thought. But not for these men. His eyes roamed down Gabe's body then

back up to linger on his face. What is it about you that I suddenly can't get my mind off?
When Gabe glanced at him, catching him looking, Cole looked away.

“What?” Gabe asked.

“Nothing.” Cole shrugged and let his eyes wander away from the man, though now

he could feel Gabe staring at him. His pulse did a funny skip-shudder when Gabe
brushed the back of his hand lightly against his arm in a seemingly casual nudge.

“You think Max would fire us if we played hooky tonight and slipped out?” When Cole

looked at him again, the man was twisting his beer glass on the bar top, gazing blankly
at his drink. His soft blue eyes turned on Cole and he raised one eyebrow slowly, a smile
teasing the corner of his mouth. “So?”

A dryness invaded Cole's throat at the depth of invitation in those baby blues.

What're you getting all nervous and tingly about? How many times have you fucked this
guy? Still it was different somehow...that look...there was more to it than friendly lust.
Cole cleared his throat and shifted a bit. He was about to take the guy up on his

proposition when his head dropped back and he groaned loud, “Fuck.”

“What?” Gabe chuckled.

“The horny octopus is back again.”

“The what?” Gabe laughed.

Twisting back around, Cole nodded discreetly towards a tall, lanky man dressed in a

suit that didn't seem to fit him quite right, though it was clearly expensive and thus
usually meant the customer had money.

“Ahh.” Gabe grinned. “Your biggest fan.”

“Yeah, what the hell is that all about?” Cole muttered. “I thought you were

everyone's favorite? How did I get stuck with the man of a million hands?”

Gabe shrugged and chuckled. “But heads up, baby—he's coming your way.”

Fuck. Cole rubbed his hand over his face and swallowed the last of his beer. He

turned slowly towards the man as he neared them, and flashed a smooth, sexy smile.
“Mr. Ryland. It's good to see you again.” Gabe's lips tightened with a grin as he covered
his mouth with his hand, chuckling quietly. Cole elbowed him in the ribs, just for good
measure.

Grunting, Gabe nodded at the customer. “Mr. Ryland.” he gasped a little, rubbing

his side, then smirked at Cole and slipped away.

Asshole. Cole muttered to himself, but couldn't refrain from watching the man

weave through the bodies, his beautiful ass flexing and shifting beneath his tight pants.
A sudden hardening of the crotch caused a strained groan to stick in his throat—
suddenly dislodged when Ryland's hand shoved down the front of his pants, stuffing in a
large wad of cash.

The man grinned and pushed in between Cole's knees, his hand still wedged into

Cole's crotch, fingering his hard cock. “Mmm. Love it when your dick gets so hard for
me.”

For you? Dream on, buddy. Cole plucked the man's hand from his pants. “You know

the rules, Mr. Ryland.”

“Ah, but I hate rules.” he smiled wryly, and his hands squeezed Cole's thighs,

rubbing, inching back towards his crotch. “And I've asked you to call me Faron.” He
shoved in close, his bulging crotch grinding Cole's, his face close, breath scented with a
sweet tobacco. “It makes me so fucking horny when you say my name.”

Just get this over with, Cole told himself. “Well, by all means, Faron...” Cole slid off

the stool and grabbed the man's hand—mostly to keep the guy from groping him on the
way to one of the booths. “...let’s get you horny.”

Faron Ryland chuckled with delight and let Cole lead him away.

* * * *

“I'm sorry for keeping you out so late.”

The hotel suite was luxurious, nearly as nice as Kaplan's penthouse apartment. Abel

couldn't imagine how much a single night in this room would cost—his mind didn't work
on those figures, not when he'd spent his whole life counting every cent, scratching and
clawing for every dime. The kind of wealth Kaplan possessed was beyond his
comprehension.

“It's fine.” Abel mumbled. “I'm used to late nights.”

“Yes, of course.” Kaplan murmured. “I forgot.”

You forgot—that I'm a stripper pimping myself out to you? “Don't see how you could

forget.” Abel whispered dull.

Kaplan chuckled softly. “So, do you enjoy French cuisine?” He moved deeper into

the room and removed his suit jacket.

“Not really.”

Folding the jacket, Kaplan laid it over the back of a plush chair then turned and

leaned against the back of the chair and gazed at Abel. “I like your honesty.” he smiled
and unfastened the cuffs of his shirt sleeves, folding them up his forearms a couple
rolls. “But perhaps your palate simply hasn't grown accustomed to fine foods.”

“Maybe.” Tension gripped Abel now that they were back in the room, alone—for the

remainder of the night. What was with all the pleasantries? The man was paying out a
shit load of cash to fuck him—so why didn't he just get to it? Abel wasn't looking forward
to it, but all this foreplay was making it even worse. He just wanted to get it done and
over with.

“Before I forget.” Kaplan reached inside the folded jacket and took out his sleek

leather wallet then withdrew what looked like a black credit card. He held it out to
Abel like someone holds out a treat to coax in a wary dog. Abel half expected the words
—“Here, boy”—to slide off his lips. Bitter humor bubbled inside him. You're losing your
fucking mind.

But like the dog accepting the treat, Abel approached the man. “What is it?” he took

the card with an air of caution. The initials NYCB were stamped in the upper left corner
with the words New York Community Bank written out next to them. Abel Sims was

engraved at the bottom below the card number and expiration date, next to the
American Express logo.

“Twenty thousand dollars is a lot of money to have floating around an apartment

with  no  security  system.”  Kaplan  said.  “I  opened  an  account  for  you  at  the  New  York
bank and deposited the money in there.” He withdrew a small envelope about the size
that  typically  comes  with  a  batch  of  roses,  and  offered  it  to  him  as  well.  “Your  PIN
number  is  inside,  as  well  as  your  bank  account  number.  I  don't  know  either.  I  asked
them  to  give  it  to  me  in  a  sealed  envelope.  This  is  your  account  and  your  money.  No
one needs to know your account number or PIN but you.”

Abel fingered the bank card and envelope. He had a difficult time wrapping his mind

around the reality that he was, in a sense, holding twenty-thousand dollars in his
fingers at this very moment.

“If you like,” Kaplan said. “I can keep that for you in the safe on the plane, until we

get home.”

Nodding slowly, Abel handed both items back to him. “Yes...thank you.” he

murmured.

“It isn't a problem.” Kaplan smiled and returned the card and envelope to his

wallet. He gazed at Abel's face as the boy averted his eyes. “If it you want to confirm
that the money is there, in your own personal account...you are welcome to call the
bank.”

Abel shook his head. “No.” he whispered. “I believe you.”

Sighing softly, Kaplan straightened away from the chair and touched Abel's lower

back. “It's been a long day.” he said quietly, his fingertips pressing lightly against Abel's
skin through his clothes. “We should..relax.”

Swallowing tightly, Abel allowed the man to guide him towards the bedroom. He had

just been handed twenty-thousand dollars—time to start earning it.

Remember why you're doing this. It's for Savannah. There are no other options. You

can deal. You have to.

* * * *

Devlin grabbed another shift though his body, and mind, was long overdue for a rest.

But going home just didn't seem like the best option right now. His time alone with Abel
yesterday was too much to just stop and think about. If he could, he would keep going
until he dropped from sheer exhaustion—then perhaps he could just sleep without
dreaming. Somehow bypass the unbearable pain that cut through him with every
thought of the boy.

Where had he gone? The question wouldn't leave him alone. Even Cole didn't know

where he was, or what he was doing. All Devlin knew was that Abel had been in a state
of devastation when he'd walked out on him at the club. He worried about where that
mind had taken him. God, please, please take care of him. Watch over him. Keep him
safe. Please.

When he checked in on Savannah, the girl was asleep. Though even then, her face

seemed tense, troubled. She was worried about Abel...and Devlin. Confused as to what
had went wrong between them. Join the club, sweetie. I don't have a clue.

He glanced at his watch; barely eight-thirty. Morning seemed an eternity away. But

when it came, the cycle would start all over again—how to get through the next night
without the thoughts and dreams of Abel's touch, his heavenly kiss, annihilating his
heart and mind.

Baby, what the hell happened? Why won't you tell me? The same old questions to

which there were no answers. New ones cropped up, squeezing his heart tighter; Where
are you tonight? What are you doing?

Chapter Nine

Heart Of My Heart

How long until the beast surfaces?

Kaplan's touch was light, even tender, as he stood behind Abel and slowly removed

his jacket then rubbed his knuckles gently down the center of his back. Lips touched the
back of his head and the man breathed him in, dipping down to draw in the lingering
scent of the Egyptian musk. His body pushed lightly against Abel's, the man's firm crotch
snug on the boy's softly rounded backside.

Abel swallowed with effort, his fingers curling into tight fists as he battled the panic

struggling to surface. He isn't Craig, he isn't going to hurt you, he isn't forcing you to do
this. But it felt forced—in its own way. When one chose something because it was their
only option—was that really a consensual decision?

It doesn't matter. The deal was made. He was here. Now he just had to...bend over

and take it.

His eyes closed and he swallowed again, throat thick, aching with the strain of

emotion. Without permission or consent, his mind jumped back to the coffee
shop...Devlin's offer. He bit his lip and squeezed his eyes tighter against the stinging
tears.

He had almost been free. It was right there, sliding into his palm as Devlin had taken

his hand, just...giving it to him free and clear. And when he had reached for it,
accepted it—Poof! It was gone. Ripped away so suddenly he didn't have time to adjust.
All his chains snapped back around him, squeezing, dragging him down. And somewhere
in the back of his mind...he swore he could hear God laughing, thoroughly amused by
his cruel little trick.

You win, Abel thought now, chin tucking down to his chest as Kaplan slowly tugged

his  shirt  loose  from  the  waistband  of  his  pants.  Happy  now?  I  give  up...conceded
defeat...I  get  it  now—you  hate  me  and  you  will  never  let  anything  good  in  my  life.  I
won't  fight  you  anymore.  Let  him  fuck  me.  Let  them  all  fuck  me...it's  all  I'm  good  for
now...all I was ever good for.

Hands moved around his waist, fingers unfastening his pants, sliding the zipper down

slowly. Breath stalled at the base of his throat when Kaplan reached down inside his

pants, cupping his cock through the expensive briefs—then massaged gently. Hot breath
puffed at the back of his neck as the man's hunger for Abel slowly swelled and ebbed.
How soon till he lost control?

Kaplan's free hand began to pluck loose the buttons of Abel's shirt, starting at the

bottom. When half the buttons were unfastened, he rubbed his hand inside, caressing
Abel's hard stomach then up over his chest, his thumb dragging over a firm nipple. He
drew Abel tighter against him and brushed his lips across the boy's ear. “I've never laid
eyes on a boy more beautiful than you.” he murmured with a rasp to his voice. “The
first time I saw you up on that stage...the way you moved so seductively...I knew I had
to have you.”

He kissed the curve of Abel's jaw. “But not there...not some dirty little dance in a

dingy booth.” He groaned and let his free hand descend down inside Abel's pants with
the other hand, both rubbing, massaging, getting Abel's cock nice and hard. “I wanted
you in my bed...all to myself...no boundaries.” He sucked Abel's neck. “No club rules to
stop me from sliding my cock into your tight, sweet, hot, beautiful ass and fucking you
so good.”

Abel trembled—hands and eyes squeezing tighter. Just accept your fate. But panic

spiked his heart rate when Kaplan pushed down the front of his briefs, freeing his cock,
then began to stroke him, hand over hand, squeezing and dragging along the full length
of his shaft, massaging the head. The fierce erection was inevitable—the man knew how
to use his hands. But the physical pleasure it incited did little to quell the roiling panic
and fear—and in fact heightened it, bringing to the surface the way Craig used to
administer a thorough blow job to get him hard before fucking him.

And the fact that Craig had deliberately made him cum in his mouth a few times,

had made Abel even more sick and ashamed because—physically—that part of it had
felt good, causing him to think that he somehow liked what Craig was doing to him,
when he didn't.

And now Kaplan was creating the same effects—inciting intense physical pleasure

while Abel's mind resisted, the battle causing nausea to mingle with the sexual ecstasy
rising up.

To Abel's shock, Kaplan covered his cock with his briefs and withdrew his hands,

caressing  back  across  Abel's  hips,  gripping  lightly.  His  lips  rubbed  over  Abel's  cheek,
warm  breath  bursting  against  his  flushed  skin.  “Seduce  me.”  he  whispered,  breath
slightly  quickened.  “I've  been  dreaming  of  you  using  this  elegant  body  to  drive  me
wild.” His hands moved up and down Abel's body, the man's crotch hardening against his
ass. “Dance for me, angel. Make me want you till I beg for it.”

Kaplan stepped back, his touch falling away. For a brief moment, Abel experienced

a shiver of relief. He turned slowly to see the man walking over to an expensive stereo.
Dance for him. Images of Devlin arose, unbidden. Abel had delighted in seducing Devlin,
taking great pleasure in turning the man on until he was nearly in tears, pleading with
Abel to take him all the way.

Tears welled up but he forced them back down and swallowed the ache in his

throat. He could give Kaplan all he asked for—he'd done it many times over for his
customers at the club. Only difference was—at the club, there was a limit to what the
customer received from the dancer. Here in this room...there were no limits, no
boundaries, no rules. Whatever Kaplan demanded of Abel—he would get.

* * * *

At the soft chuckle from the doorway, Cole thrust his hand behind him without

turning and gave the heckler the finger.

“Is that an invitation?” Gabe smirked. “If so, I'm in. I know what that finger can do.”

“Fuck.” Cole laughed.

“Precisely.” Gabe entered the dressing room as Cole tugged on his pants. “So...did

the octopus get any tentacles in you?”

Groaning, Cole fastened his pants. “I've never seen anyone with such fast hands. And

grabby ones, at that.”

“Well, shit.” Gabe murmured, grinning. “Can you blame him for wanting grab your

goods?” He reached over and palmed Cole's crotch, squeezing just enough to incite a
whimper in the man. “Your goods are...great.”

“Well, I appreciate the compliment.” Cole shook his head, chuckling. “But I wish

that guy didn't think so.”

“Bet you made wad off of...his wad.” Snickering, Gabe scooped up the bills lying on

the counter and thumbed through them.

Cole's face twisted with a bit of disgust. “He blows his wad every time I rub my ass

on his crotch.” he said. “He never makes it through an entire dance.”

“Well, at least you both walk away with a wad in your shorts.” Gabe winked, then

grunted when Cole punched him in the arm. “Hey—that's a good thing.”

Cole scowled. “The money ain't always worth it.” his voice dropped. “There's...other

things I would've rather been doing than getting that guy off.”

“Like what?” Gabe folded the bills neatly and handed them to Cole, then lounged

against the edge of the counter.

Like taking you home with me and fucking you all night long. The words stuck in his

throat, a bit surprisingly. He'd never had qualms about saying exactly what he thought
to the man. It wasn't their way to censor themselves. But suddenly the words felt
too...raw. As if all he saw Gabe as was a piece of ass to fuck. And though they had
always talked to each other that way, it made him feel a little queasy now for Gabe to
think that was all there was to it. Well, what do you want him to think it's about?

Fuck, he didn't know. Ever since that day at Abel's, his head had been in the clouds

and clears thoughts were a thing of the past, or so it seemed. Suddenly everything Gabe
said and did was magnified, and he found himself analyzing it all like some freaking
chic.

“Earth to Cole.” Gabe snapped his fingers in front of Cole's face.

“Huh?”

Gabe chuckled. “Go on a little trip there for a minute?” he smirked. “I asked what

you would've rather been doing than rubbing your ass in the octopus' crotch.”

“Anything.” Cole mumbled.

“No.” Gabe shook his head and grinned. “You had something specific in mind. Don't

tell me you were gonna steal one of our hot little dancers and take them home with
you.”

Close. Cole shrugged and smiled, “I'll never tell.” his eyes grazed over Gabe's body,

then up to his face. That something taunted him from behind the man's light blue eyes.
Cole ached to dive in and seek it out, but was also a bit apprehensive; how would it
change things between them? He liked their casual relationship. Yet, if truth be
told...hadn't he always craved just a little bit more from the man? “So how about you
come home with me instead?” The words were out before he could contemplate them.
But then, what was there to contemplate? It was what he wanted.

Grinning, Gabe pushed forward and grabbed at Cole's mouth with his soft lips. “Took

you long enough.”

“What?” Cole drew back a little, though not too much—none too eager to withdraw

from Gabe's mouth.

A soft groan sifted up Gabe's throat and he smiled wryly, teasing Cole with a ghost of

a kiss. “You've wanted to ask me to come home with you since we were out at the bar.”

That funny, tickling quiver zinged through his chest and all the way down. “So...if

you knew,” Cole's breath puffed a little, causing Gabe's smile to widen. “Why did you

make me say it?”

“Because.” An eyebrow slowly dragged up—so fucking sexy—and Cole nearly jumped

the man. Gabe tucked his fingertips into the front of Cole's pants and tugged him close.
“You've never officially invited me to come home with you. Just wanted to hear how it
sounded.”

Cole's heart pounded like crazy, though still uncertain just why Gabe was having this

effect on him. “And how does it sound?” his voice depicted a slight tremor that he
couldn't account for.

Delivering

the

kiss

that

had

been

teasing

him,

Gabe

whispered,

“Sounds...promising.”

Cole squeezed the man's hips beneath his fingers. “It is.”

* * * *

Just a quick break, a moment to rest his eyes—and he was out. The dream grabbed

him, pulling him in, wrapping around him in the form of Abel's arms, his warm body.
Once in, Devlin had no will to resist. His arms encased the boy, holding him so tight, his
kisses smothering Abel's mouth, his face, throat, drinking him in, breathing him like the
air that had been denied him.

‘Why did you run from me, baby?’ the agonized question exploded through Devlin's

mind, never reaching his lips—yet Abel someone heard him and grabbed his face, kissing
him with warm passion, tears dripping from his amber eyes and wetting Devlin's face.

He could feel the boy's desire for him, need to be close to him—as he'd felt it during

his last visit to the club. Abel hadn't wanted to let him go...but believed he had to.
‘Why, baby?’

But the boy just continued to cry through his kisses, clinging to Devlin, pleading—

without speaking—for Devlin to hold onto him and never let go.

Devlin came awake with a start, a shaky hand swiping across his face to find it wet

with tears. In the dream...it had been Abel's tears wetting his face. He sat forward in
the chair, heart racing, mind reeling. It had been so real—Abel's need for him.

It was just a dream. The boy doesn't want you anymore. Devlin sank back against

the chair, new tears forming and slipping free. “It wasn't just a dream.” he choked
quietly, recalling the way Abel had held him...made love to him that last time. The boy
hadn't wanted to let him go.

Devlin leaned forward on his knees and rubbed his hands over his face, choking on a

Chapter Ten

Take Me Away

A measure of the man's suave composure began to slip away as the need inside him

burned hotter. The music flowed as Kaplan discarded his clothes down to his snug boxer
briefs and got comfortable on the bed as Abel let the music take over and began a strip
tease that instantly hardened the man's cock.

Imagining he was back at the club, Abel slithered out of his clothes, one article at a

time, then used the tall, polished wood bed posts as substitutes for a dance pole. His
hands caressed the sleek, dark surface as his body curved and swayed, sliding sensually
down the length then up again. His hips dipped out then forward, seductively rubbing
his crotch to the post, his tongue snaking out to lick the slick wood.

Kaplan's breath puffed forcefully through his nostrils, heated eyes burning into Abel's

flesh. One hand dropped to his crotch and rubbed his cock through his briefs. He swore
softly, his fevered gaze beckoning Abel to come closer.

His bare feet sinking into the soft bed covers, Abel stood over the man wearing only

his briefs and let the music infiltrate his body. His hands caressed all over himself as
hips swayed and dipped low, grazing Kaplan's bulging crotch with his ass then ascending
just when the guy began to lift up to him. He sank low again, using his whole body to
slither and curve over the top of the man like a snake about to claim its prey, his hot
breath scalding Kaplan's chest, throat, lips before drawing back and rising to his feet
again.

Kaplan caressed his hands up Abel's calves as the boy continued to sway and shift so

smooth and fluid. Abel's fingers pushed down inside the band of his shorts and slowly
worked the briefs down over his hips, body curving and twisting around to give the man
a nice view of his perfectly rounded ass. He teased and taunted him, affording glimpses
then taking it away before finally working the briefs all the way off.

When the fear crept in, he shoved it back as he continued to gently rock his hips

above  the  man,  locking  his  fingers  behind  his  head  and  slowly  descending  once  more,
grinding  his  ass  firmly  on  the  man's  steel  hard  cock.  Kaplan  ran  his  hands  up  Abel's
thighs  as  the  boy  began  to  rise  back  up  again—then  gripped,  his  fingers  gouging  into
Abel's  legs  and  pulling  him  back  down  on  him,  causing  Abel  straddle  him.  His  breath
caught sharp but was swallowed in Kaplan's hungered kiss as the man sat forward and

crushed Abel in his arms.

Strong fingers gripped and explored between his ass cheeks, probing his tight

entrance.  Hot  breath  scalded  his  neck  as  Kaplan  bit  at  his  fevered  skin,  grabbing  a
mouthful,  sucking  like  a  starving  man.  Abel  squeezed  his  eyes  shut,  locked  into  the
man's  iron  embrace,  no  way  to  escape.  His  heart  beat  harder,  faster,  as  the  panic
swelled.

Just turn it off. Turn it off! Like you did with Craig—just go away! Find someplace to

go!

Abel choked on a low sob. Kaplan lifted his hips, grinding his confined cock between

Abel's cheeks, his urgent fingers spreading him open, the man's body like a furnace
against Abel's skin. Tears slid down his face and he bit back a cry when he was suddenly
on his back beneath Kaplan's weight, hands and mouth exploring, tasting, sucking,
licking.

A startled grunt escaped Abel as the man reached down between them and grabbed

Abel's cock, stroking him with a tight fist. Then he was descending Abel's body,
caressing and kissing a path down the center of his chest and stomach. He pushed Abel's
legs open, wrapped one hand around his cock and the other palmed his balls, massaging
as his mouth moved back forth between, sucking his sensitive flesh.

Abel whimpered and his cock stiffened fiercely in the man's fist, but the fear

continued to press at him as the image of Craig's face between his legs exploded
through his head. He clutched the blankets, eyes clamped, tears streaming, pulse
racing.

“Uh!” he choked on a gasp when Kaplan's mouth slid down the length of his hard

cock, swallowing every inch of him, sucking, stroking, shoving down on him, pushing his
cock head in his throat. On pure reflex, Abel's hips thrust up, burying himself even
deeper. Kaplan groaned with pleasure and stroked him faster, more fervently.

“Fuck.” Abel gasped hard and clawed the blankets. Behind his closed eyes, Devlin's

face arose, vanquishing images of Craig. The love in his midnight eyes enraptured Abel,
cloaked him with comfort and security. Let me be the one loving you tonight, his soft
gaze seemed to whisper, plead. Just close your eyes, baby, be with me...I'm right
here...I won't let anything hurt you.

Abel's jaw clenched and tightened with emotion, hot tears running free. Please take

me away from here, he cried silently, his mind grabbing onto the man. I want it to be
you...only you.

Some of the tension in his body began to ebb away as thoughts of Devlin took hold,

pulling him into the fantasy with the man he loved. Eyes closed, he slowly released the
blankets from his clenched fists and slid his fingers in Kaplan's hair as his hips began to
move in rhythm with the man's mouth, allowing the vision of Devlin to take over. He
moaned in ecstasy, gliding his cock in and out of Kaplan's throat.

Don't leave me, baby, Abel's heart begged Devlin as, deep in his mind, the man held

on and made love to him.

* * * *

The funny tickle in his gut refused to fade as Cole unlocked the door to his

apartment.  He  and  Gabe  entered,  and  he  closed  the  door  behind  them.  There  was  no
rhyme  or  reason  for  his  nervousness—it  wasn't  as  if  Gabe  hadn't  been  here  before.  In
fact, the man had come over many times—and many times they had fucked on his sofa,
in his bed, wherever the notion happened to strike them. So why all of the sudden did it
feel  like  he  was  bringing  the  guy  home  for  the  first  time? As  if  they  had  never  been
intimate?

“Want a beer?” Cole asked as he veered into the kitchen.

“Yeah, sure.” Gabe moved on to the living room, sat on the sofa and grabbed the TV

remote, turning on the television. When Cole entered a few minutes later, the guy's
shoes were kicked off and his feet propped on the coffee table, ankles crossed as he
relaxed back against the sofa comfortably.

Cole stepped over his legs and handed him a bottle of beer then sat down next to

him. “Find anything good to watch?”

Shrugging, Gabe twisted off the cap of the bottle and took a long swallow then

licked his lips. Cole watched his mouth, following his tongue. Gabe dropped his hand
onto Cole's thigh and rubbed slowly along the hard muscle. “So,” Gabe twisted the beer
bottle back and forth on his leg, eyes on his drink.

“So...what?” Cole opened his own beer and took a drink.

Gabe chuckled low and slid his hand into Cole's crotch and massaged his cock until it

began to throb unbearably. “So...are we going to talk about this?” he asked low, “Or
just pretend nothing has changed?”

“I, uh...” Cole cleared his throat. “I didn't know if it was something you wanted to

talk about.”

Sighing, Gabe smiled and glanced at him, one eyebrow cocked. “Do you?”

Gazing into those baby blues, Cole was enamored. His pulse shuddered. “Yeah.” his

voice rasped and he ducked his head and laughed softly, “Yeah, I do.”

Gabe squeezed his crotch just hard enough to incite a groan then asked, “You

getting sweet on me?”

“Fuck.” Cole chuckled and dropped his hand down on top of Gabe's, helping the guy

massage his cock. When he glanced up, Gabe was looking at him, waiting for an answer.
Cole sighed, “And what if I am?” he raised his own eyebrow inquisitively, almost
challenging. “What're you gonna do about it?”

Gabe nodded slowly. “What am I gonna do about it.” he murmured, looking

thoughtful. He leaned forward slowly and set his bottle of beer on the table then looked
at Cole as a slow grin curved across his lips. He reached over, hooked his fingers in the
belt loops of Cole's jeans and dragged him onto his lap in a swift, strong move. Gabe
squeezed his ass through his pants as Cole straddled him, pushing down against his
crotch. Gabe grinned, 'Well, this will do for starters.”

Groaning, his heart going wild, Cole kissed the man, sliding his arms across his

shoulders to grip the back of the sofa. Gabe's hands went down the back of Cole's jeans,
groping his bare ass underneath. One finger slipped between his cheeks and nudged his
tight hole, shoving inside. “Fuck.” Cole gasped low, groaning thick, his quick breath
rushing into Gabe's mouth through their kiss. He growled and bit Gabe's lower lip. “I
love your fingers.”

“Just my fingers?”Gabe smirked as one hand pulled from the back of Cole's jeans and

moved around between them, working open the front of his pants. As soon as they were
unfastened and unzipped, Gabe had more room in the back to maneuver and worked his
finger in deeper.

“Fuck.” Cole gasped and clutched the back of Gabe's neck then began to rock

against his finger. A hard breath burst forth when Gabe tugged out his cock and began
to stroke him while finger fucking him simultaneously. “Shit, baby.” Cole whimpered,
sucked in a tight breath then released it hard. “Oh fuck yes...”

His fingers gouged Gabe's neck as his cock turned to granite in the man's fist, pearl

drops of cum juice forming at the tip, only to be massaged into his hard flesh as Gabe's
palm rubbed over the head and back down the shaft. Cole panted and worked his hips
back and forth against the man's stroking hand and finger.

Gabe chuckled low, his own breath quick and uneven. “Feel good?”

“To put it mildly.” Cole grunted, then dropped his head against the man's shoulder.

“Now stop playing with me...and fuck me for real.”

Laughing softly, Gabe released him with both hands and grabbed his hips, lifting him

up as he drew his legs off the coffee table and sat forward on the sofa. Cole's stiff cock

beckoned him and the man wrapped his tongue around the head then sucked up his
wetness before engulfing his entire shaft, pumping him deep and fast.

“Shit!” Cole grabbed his head and fucked his mouth, pushing his cock deep into

Gabe's throat again and again. “Holy fuck, man.” he panted hard, stroking and
thrusting, sweat lacing his skin as his balls began to tingle pleasantly.

Gabe dragged Cole's jeans down his legs without releasing his cock. Cole worked his

feet out and kicked the pants aside then whipped off his shirt and tossed it away, his
fingers diving back into Gabe's hair, gripping his head. His stomach muscles jerked and
twitched when Gabe sucked him harder and his head dropped back as a half laugh, half
groan pushed up his throat. Fuck, baby, your mouth is my heaven on earth. So hot, wet,
tight and velvet soft, wrapping around his cock like a snug fitting silk glove.

A whimper escaped him when Gabe sucked up off him then moved him back so he

could stand. He shed his clothes then sat back down, grabbed Cole's hips and turned him
around, facing away from him, then sat him down on his hard cock.

“Ahh fuck!” Cole ground out tight, loud, as the man's thickness squeezed into him,

pushing deeper, expanding his insides. “Oh god, Gabe...give it to me...all of it.” He
pushed down harder until he was sitting in the man's lap, his entire cock engulfed in his
ass.

“Oh fuck.” Gabe gasped and squeezed his hips. “Ah shit, baby, fuck me.”

With pleasure, Cole groaned inwardly and smiled. He twisted a little and reached

back, gripping Gabe's shoulder as he began to slide his tight ass up and down the man's
hard cock.

“Fuck yes!” Gabe choked. “Yes...yes...oh fuck, do it...fuck my cock, baby...ride me

hard!”

Cole curled his hand around the back of Gabe's neck, his body curved at the waist as

he worked his hips, rocking, circling, bouncing, pounding until his back was arching and
he was fucking the man without reservation.

* * * *

Devlin completed his rounds on autopilot as his mind worked overtime to come up

with a plan to get through to Abel. Whatever was wrong...there had to be a way to fix
it. There had to be. He couldn't accept that this was it—the end. Not after the way they
had touched, made love. Every time he had looked into Abel's beautiful eyes, he'd seen
the boy's need and want for him, his...love. And that last time with him had been no
different. It had been a sheer force of will for Abel to let him go, to tell him to stay
away. It wasn't what he wanted.

Chapter Eleven

Alone In The Dark

Probing lips grazed his neck, rubbing upward along the tendon, tugging his earlobe.

Abel kept his eyes closed, clinging to the visage of Devlin, repeating over and over to
himself that it was Devlin's body moving up to cover his, Devlin's mouth tasting his
flesh, Devlin's hands exploring where no other should be allowed.

Teeth nipped his earlobe hard enough to draw a sharp gasp from the boy. “Open

your eyes, baby.” Kaplan groaned. “I want to look into those lovely gold pools when I
enter your heavenly body.”

Abel trembled; if he opened his eyes...Devlin would disappear.

Hands gripped his head firmly, thumbs raking over his cheeks. “Open your eyes,

Abel.” Kaplan's request teetered on a command. “I'm paying a lot of money for you to
be here with me—not off in some fantasy with another man.”

His breath catching, Abel opened his eyes slowly. Pent up tears seeped out, running

down his temples, wetting his hair. He stared up into the man's Mahogany eyes. If they
had been deep blue, maybe he could have still made believe...

“I'm not going to hurt you.” Kaplan spoke low, but the hunger—the beast within—

stalked behind his eyes. “You knew what was expected of you...and when I pay for
something—I mean to get what I paid for.” He dragged his thumbs through the thin
stream of tears leaking from Abel's eyes. “Do you understand?”

Abel nodded unsteadily.

“Say it.”

Swallowing thickly, Abel managed a shaky whisper, “I understand.”

“Good.” Kaplan's lips twitched with a smile and he kissed Abel's mouth. “I'm sorry if

you have issues with this, Abel...but you need to learn that you shouldn't make a
business deal if you can't hold up your end of it. I didn't make any pretenses about what
I wanted from you.” he kissed him again. “You came into this with your eyes wide
open.”

Abel nodded again, “I know.” he whispered. “I'll...I'll do whatever you want.”

Smiling, Kaplan nuzzled his ear. “Now that's what I like to hear.” he murmured. His

hands rubbed down Abel's body then pushed underneath him, lifting his ass up. He drew
back and gazed down into Abel's tense face. “Open your legs wider.”

Heart pounding, Abel complied then whimpered when the wet tip of Kaplan's cock

nudged his tight ring. He continued to push and pull, entering him a little more each
time, seeming to take great pleasure by taking his time. Abel longed to close his eyes—
he didn't want to look in the man's face. Craig often made him look at him and he hated
it. Now, it seemed all he could see was Craig staring back at him, cold humor in his
eyes, a triumphant smile on his lips as if to say ‘I won after all—I'm still fucking you’.

“Oh fuck, baby.” Kaplan gasped hard then stopped playing and pushed in deep. Abel

clawed the bed, body arching on reflex as a cry wrenched out of him. “Fuck.” Kaplan
panted and worked himself in deeper. “Oh my god, your ass is so wonderfully tight and
hot.” He groaned loud, half growled, then began to fuck him at a moderate pace. But
the man's need couldn't be contained and in bare moments, his hands were clutching at
Abel's body as his thrusts grew faster, harder, his pelvis pounding against the boy's ass,
driving his cock in balls deep—again and again.

Abel cried and bit his lip, eyes squeezing shut automatically, pushing out hot tears.

His breath labored, his lungs not wanting to work. Breathe! He sucked in a sharp,
staggered breath that choked him. Kaplan didn't notice as his lust drove him. He sucked
and bit at Abel's throat, searing breath puffing against damp, fevered skin.

“Oh fuck, baby, yes.” He grunted, pumping Abel's ass hard, urgent. “Fuck me,

Abel...fuck me back...for twenty thousand fucking dollars, I expect to be fucked in
return.”

Tentatively, Abel began to move his hips in rhythm with Kaplan's thrusts, rolling

against the man's strokes, working his ass on his hard cock.

“Oh fuck yeah.” Kaplan moaned loud. “That's more like it, baby...come on...fuck me

good.”

Abel swallowed hard and slid his arms around the man's neck and wrapped his legs

around his waist and gave him what he asked for—what he expected—fucking him with
more urgency.

Shoving up on his arms a bit, Kaplan slammed his cock into Abel, rocking the bed.

“Fuck!” his back arched and head dropped back as his eyes squeezed shut in pure sexual
ecstasy, his pace quickening, cock hammering. “Oh fuck! Fuck! Yes, baby, fuck me!
Make me cum!”

Abel squeezed his arms and legs around the man and closed his mind then fucked

him with more enthusiasm.

Pulling out of his arms suddenly, Kaplan sat up straighter, clutching Abel's hips and

fucking him erratically, breath ragged, bursting from his parted lips, eyes hazy with lust
as he stared down at him. One hand wrapped around Abel's cock and pumped him hard
and fast.

“Uuh!” Abel's body arched and he fucked the man's fist as he rocked hurriedly on his

cock. His balls tightened fiercely. “Fuck.” he gasped hard. “Oh god!” His body jerked
hard and his cock burst, squirting tendrils of cum up onto his stomach. “Fuuck!”

Kaplan grinned and leaned over him, hammering his cock into his ass as he dropped

his face and dragged his tongue through Abel's cum. A strangled wail wrenched from the
man and he drove his cock in hard, unloading, fucking through the orgasm until he was
spent. He panted forcefully and leaned down again, licking Abel's stomach clean then
kissing him.

His stomach pinched slightly as Kaplan's tongue thrust into his mouth with remnants

of Abel's own juice. Sometimes Craig would make him taste his own cum and each time
he nearly vomited. When Craig make him suck his cock, and came in his mouth, Abel
had puked. Now, he wanted to spit out the taste of himself but Kaplan's tongue inside
his mouth prevented it.

The man's cock was still heavy and buried deep inside him. Please fall asleep now.

Please stop touching me...stop doing these things to me...just for a little while.

Kaplan withdrew his tongue and panted against Abel's lips. His breath smelled of

cum and Abel wanted to turn his face away but didn't move. “You are well worth the
cost.” Kaplan shuddered. “The best fuck I've ever had.” he smiled and kissed him again,
murmuring, “And I've had a lot of hot young boys in my bed.” he stroked Abel's face
then kissed him long, deep, groaning, “but never any quite like you, baby. Maybe I'll
just keep you forever.”

When the man finally lifted off him and moved them both beneath the blankets,

Abel waited tensely for him to drift off. For a long while, Kaplan remained awake,
caressing and kissing Abel's sweat slick body, fondling and massaging him.

Dawn pressed at the windows before the man finally dropped into sleep. Abel

slipped out of bed and quietly made his way to the shower, turned the water on as hot
as he could stand then scrubbed his body until his skin felt raw and burned beneath the
spray. Sobs choked him as he relentlessly raked at his skin—as he'd done each and every
time Craig had fucked him—as if he could somehow scrub away the memories as well as
the residue of the man's touch.

Sobs burst out of him and he sank down in the corner of the shower, knees hugged to

his chest, muffling his cries against his legs as he struggled to push the recent events
from his mind by clinging to memories of Devlin, even Cole and Gabe. He longed for
Cole's arms, protecting him, comforting him, keeping him safe.

I want to go home. Please just let me go home.

* * * *

“Are you okay?” Gabe propped up on one elbow and looked at Cole. They had moved

from the sofa to the bedroom a short while ago, exhausting themselves exploring these
new levels of passion they hadn't experienced before.

Cole stared out the window as night pressed against the glass. “Where is he?” he

whispered,  his  throat  tightening.  He  twisted  his  head  and  looked  at  Gabe,  a  sheen  of
tears glistening. “Where is Abel?” he swallowed thick and turned his gaze to the ceiling,
tears  forming  at  the  corners  of  his  eyes.  “I  keep  getting  this  sick  feeling  inside...like
something is wrong. Like...” he licked his lips and the tears seeped down his temples.
“Like  he  needs  us,  or  something.”  he  shook  his  head  and  cleared  his  throat.  “I  know
how crazy that sounds, but...I feel it.” he looked at Gabe again. “Why wouldn't he tell
us where he was going?”

Leaning down, Gabe kissed him then touched his forehead to Cole's brow. “He'll be

back soon. His message to his sister said he would see her first thing Monday morning,
so he will probably be home sometime tomorrow. Maybe then we can find out what's
going on.”

Cole turned onto his side and slid his arms around Gabe, drawing the man closer.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

Cole smiled and kissed him. “For giving a damn...about Abel. I see how much you

care about him.”

“Abel's a special kid.” Gabe rested his head against the pillow and looked at Cole.

“Even though he's clearly capable of surviving on his own,” he shrugged. “There's just
something about him that makes me want to protect him, you know?” he turned his
eyes to the ceiling, voice lowering, softening, “Maybe it's just knowing all the shit he's
already been through...I just don't want him to have to go through anymore. You know
what I mean?”

Cole kissed his neck. “Yeah. I do.” God, do I ever. Gazing at Gabe, feeling things

that he suspected were always there but just hadn't surfaced until now...Cole's heart
broke for Abel. How would he feel if, all of the sudden, he couldn't touch Gabe again, or

even be near him?

The knot formed quickly and choked him. Why did the kid have to meet and fall in

love with Devlin if this was how it would end? What was the fucking purpose in it all?

“Cole?” Gabe murmured and touched his face, sliding his thumb through a tear path.

Who would've thought this sex god could have such a soft, tender side?

“It's so fucking unfair.” Cole said thickly. “Abel deserves to be with Devlin. Why the

fuck did it have to happen this way? Devlin is so...perfect for him. And the man...god,
he's fucking crazy about Abel. This is such bullshit.” He rubbed his hand over his mouth
and cleared his throat of the mounting tears. “The kid can't catch a fucking break in
this life.”

Gabe's brow touched his, the man's fingers sliding through his hair. “He will.”

“When?” Cole choked, again wondering where Abel was...what he was doing,

needing him back home where he was safe, where they could look after him.

“I don't know.” Gabe murmured. “Soon, I hope.”

“I'm worried about him.” Cole whispered. “He's in a bad state of mind right now.”

Gripping his head gently, Gabe assured, “He won't hurt himself. He wouldn't do that

to Savannah, just leave her in this life all alone. She's everything to him.” he kissed
Cole's lips. “He'll be okay. Even if he feels like giving up, he won't. He's a survivor. He's
already proven that.”

The man was right. There might be a tenderness to Abel that made him appear soft,

but he knew the boy had a core of steel. But his sudden disappearance, without
explanation, had Cole on edge, his stomach knotted up tight. Something wasn't right
and he needed Abel back home.

“I know.” Cole replied. “I just wish he was back home already. I need to see with my

own eyes that he's okay.”

“So do I.” Gabe admitted and kissed him more deeply. “So do I.”

Cole closed his eyes and pressed closer to Gabe's warm body, still tacky with sweat

from their love making. Love making. It wasn't just fucking anymore. Listening to
Gabe's heart beating just a bit too quickly, it occurred to Cole that it had never been
just fucking.

Chapter Twelve

Weight Of The World

The limo rolled to a stop in front of Kaplan's building. Abel sat beside the man, eyes

down, just wanting to go home and willing the man to release him—rather than
expecting him to spend this night with him as well. Though he had every right to expect
it—this was still the weekend.

“I'll have my driver take you home.” Kaplan said.

Abel glanced up. He didn't want to arrive home in a limo. If by some chance Cole or

Gabe were at his apartment waiting for him, he didn't want to have to explain all of
this to them. “I need to go see my sister first.” he said quietly.

“It's rather late for a visit, isn't it?”

Abel shrugged. “I want to see her.”

Kaplan nodded. “All right.” The driver opened Kaplan's door. Kaplan touched Abel's

face, caressing his cheek. “I enjoyed our time together. You're a very special boy. I
hope you didn't have a...horrible time.”

His lips tight, Abel shook his head slowly. “It was fine.” he whispered, averting his

eyes.

The man released a soft, thoughtful—Hmm—then dipped in and kissed Abel's lips.

“Next weekend perhaps we shall visit Italy...or a destination of your choice.” he ran his
fingers through Abel's hair. “Whatever you want.” He stepped out of the car then
leaned back in a bit. “Don't forget your new clothes, when you arrive home. They're
yours to keep.”

Abel nodded. He didn't want the clothes. He didn't want anything from Kaplan—even

if he needed it.

“Almost forgot.” Kaplan plucked out his wallet and handed Abel the bank card and

envelope. “Take care of it now.”

“I will.” Abel murmured, fingering the card.

“All right, then.” Kaplan gazed at him. “I will see you next weekend. Please meet

me here by seven in the morning.” A smile crinkled his lips. “Or Friday night, if you

prefer. I don't mind leaving early.” he straightened up without waiting for Abel's reply,
and spoke to the driver. “Take him wherever he needs to go.”

“Yes, sir.”

Kaplan cast him one last glance, nodded then walked into the building as the driver

closed the door.

* * * *

A warm bed and peaceful sleep seemed like a distant fantasy for Devlin. He should

be home, catching up on much needed rest, but he found he was spending far less time
at home, and grabbing up more shifts at the hospital. The idea of being alone with his
thoughts of Abel drove him to seek work over home. The memories were too vivid, and
hurt too much to just sit and think about. The pain was physical, and at times nearly
sent him into an anxiety attack when considering he may never get Abel back.

“Do you ever sleep, Dr. Grant?” A hand smacked his shoulder lightly and Devlin

slowed, looking around. James Westcott, a male nurse, grinned and fell in beside him.
The younger man was friendly, and rather good looking—a favorite with the female
patients, and even some of the other nurses.

Devlin chuckled low. “I try not to.”

“Well,” James squeezed his shoulder. “One day you're just going to drop if you don't

slow down.”

“I'll keep that in mind.” Devlin smiled.

James grinned then was gone, scooting off down the corridor with a level of energy

Devlin envied at this point. He glanced at his watch; almost midnight. Whether he liked
it  or  not,  he  would  have  to  go  home  soon  and  attempt  to  force  himself  to  sleep.
Westcott was right—if he didn't get rest soon, he would drop. And besides, he wanted to
be  here  in  the  morning.  Cole  had  told  Savannah  that  Abel  would  be  here  first  thing
Monday  morning,  and  he  didn't  want  to  miss  the  opportunity  to  see  the  boy,  and
possibly  talk  to  him.  And  just  simply  know  that  he  was  home,  safe  and  sound,
from...wherever he had gone over this last weekend.

He had made Savannah's room his final stop each time before going home, making

sure the girl didn't need anything before he left. Though at this time of night, she would
surely be asleep. Still, it made him feel better to look in on her anyway.

The door to her room gave way beneath his hand, but the sound of a whispered

voice stopped him. A frown crept across his brow and he was about to enter anyway
when he suddenly recognized the voice; Abel.

Pulse suddenly racing, Devlin peered through the partially open door. A soft light

glowed above Savannah's bed and the girl was fast asleep. Sitting in a chair next to the
bed, Abel leaned on the blankets, holding her hand. Devlin's gaze swept over the boy;
he was dressed much nicer than his typical jeans and t-shirt, and the faint scent of high
end cologne tinged the air.

“I'm sorry, Savannah.” he whispered. Tears thickened his voice and Devlin's heart

squeezed at the sorrow permeating the boy's words. “I'm sorry I'm not...the brother you
think I am. I don't...know what else to do. It's the only way.” he laid his head on her
hand and though his sobs were silent, his body trembled, betraying his tears. “I'm
sorry...this is all my fault. All of it.” he choked and lifted his head a little, wiping at his
eyes. “You...and Devlin...”

The sound of his own name on the boy's lips stilled Devlin's heart. The boy's despair

tightened his throat and tears filled his eyes.

“You're all hurting...because of me.”

What was he talking about? Why was everything his fault? Devlin started to enter,

then halted again at Abel's next words.

“I know...you want us to be together.” he whispered, broken. “But I can't be with

him, Savannah. What I did...he won't...” his head dropped down again and he cried
harder, body shaking. “I can't...tell him the truth.” he shuddered. “I can't.”

Just say it, Devlin pressed silently. What truth, baby? Just say what it is.

Abel cleared his throat and straightened up a little, wiping his eyes. “It's better this

way...that he doesn't know. That you...don't even know.” he ducked his head and
rubbed his eyes. “But you're gonna be okay. I have the money...I can take care of you.”
he kissed her hand and stood up, wiping his face again. “I hope you never have to find
out...about any of it.” The dim light of the lamp glowed across his face, illuminating
the tears slowly rolling down his cheeks.

“I hope you never find out...what I really am...what I've done. But...” he covered

his face with his hand and cried softly, “I didn't have a choice, Savannah. You're all that
matters to me in this fucking world and...I'll do anything...anything...to take care of
you.” he shook his head slowly and hugged himself tightly, whispering, “Even sell my
soul to the devil.”

Rather than make his presence known, Devlin stepped back from the door when Abel

turned to leave, and moved quickly down the corridor and into an alcove as Abel came
out of the room. Devlin watched the boy discreetly as he walked the opposite direction
towards the elevators, hand shaking as he wiped his eyes, glancing around anxiously—as

if afraid of encountering someone.

Afraid of encountering you.

* * * *

The apartment door opened easily; when he'd been here before, the place had been

locked. Silence met him when he entered. Nothing looked disturbed, as if the boy were
here. But someone had unlocked the door.

“Abel?” he walked to the bedroom and opened the door. The boy lay sprawled on

the bed, face down, fully clothed—and fast asleep. Cole approached the bed and,
without really thinking about it, tugged off Abel's shoes, started to drop them on the
floor, then looked at them more closely; expensive leather wingtips. He had never seen
Abel wearing anything but sneakers.

Taking a closer look at the boy's clothes, he noticed they weren't his typical wear

either. Cole reached down and fingered the fabric of the jacket. He'd entertained
enough wealthy men to recognize the look and feel of an expensive suit. This was no
thrift store, second hand cheap outfit—it was the real deal.

What the hell? He started to wake the boy then decided against it. The kid had

clearly dropped from exhaustion—no doubt emotional as much as physical. Just let him
sleep awhile longer.

Cole tugged out his cell phone and returned to the living room, then called Gabe to

let him know Abel was home, and okay. He didn't mention the expensive clothes.
Whatever was going on with the boy, he would try and get some answers when he
awoke.

Back in the bedroom, Cole laid down on the opposite side of the bed and watched

Abel sleep. The boy's face was towards him, cheek sunken into the pillow. Cole ran his
fingers through Abel's soft hair. “Where were you, baby?” he whispered, an
unexplainable unease gripping his gut. “What did you do this weekend?”

When Cole rubbed down his back, the boy shifted slightly. “Cole...” he mumbled in

his sleep, and Cole scooted closer, sliding his arm around Abel's back, touching his brow
to the boy's head.

“I'm here.” he whispered. A distant scent of a classy musk cologne touched his

nostrils—again reminding Cole of some of their high end customer's.

Tears seeped out from beneath Abel's lashes. “I wanna...go home...Cole...” the

words were barely audible, broken, as more tears pushed out. “I don't...wanna be
here...please take me home...”

Emotion squeezing his throat, Cole pulled the boy closer and kissed his hair. “You

are home, baby.” he whispered. “I'm right here. You're safe.”

Abel was trembling against him, but as Cole held him tight, whispered softly, he

began to relax. He snuggled deep into Cole's embrace like a frightened child. “Don't
make me go back...” he pushed his face against Cole's chest and cried in his sleep.
“Don't let him take me...”

What was he talking about? Was he dreaming about the past? Cole swallowed

thickly. “You don't have to go anywhere, Abel.” he murmured. “No one's going to take
you, baby. I'm here.” he kissed his hair again as his eyes stung, and he wished Gabe
were here as well. “I'm not going to let anyone hurt you...not ever again.”

Maybe he was just dreaming about the orphanage...or maybe not. Cole's stomach

twisted as he wondered again where the boy had gone this weekend...and what had
happened to him?

* * * *

The first thing his mind registered was the confining arms, holding him tight, not

allowing for movement. The panic reaction was instant and Abel broke into a sudden
struggle, shoving against the hard chest, strong arms. “Let go...” he whimpered,
choking. “Let go!”

“Abel!” Cole's voice cleared his head, snapping his eyes open. “Hey...it's just me.”

Abel's heart thumped at his ribs, breath uneven. Cole's arm's loosened, releasing

him, and he sat up, rubbing at his wet eyes. His bedroom. He was home. Last night
rushed back in on him; going to the hospital to see Savannah, having the limo driver
drop him off a block away from his apartment. He'd felt like the walking dead when he'd
come in and hadn't even had the energy to undress before just falling on the bed.

He turned and swung his legs off the bed, leaning forward and rubbing his face.

“What're you...doing here?” his throat felt raw, clogged, his eyes puffy...as if he'd been
crying all night.

“I came over to see if you were home yet.” Cole scooted up on the bed. “Why did

you just...leave on Friday? Not tell anyone where you were going?”

Abel rubbed the back of his neck, then cleared his throat. “Now I have to get

permission before I go anywhere?” That wasn't fair and he knew it. Cole was simply
concerned, not trying to control his life.

“Come on.” Cole spoke low then scooted across the bed and sat next to him. “Don't

hand me that bullshit, Abel. You know that ain't what I meant.”

Abel sighed, ducked his head and slid both hands up behind his neck. “I know.” he

murmured. “I'm sorry.”

The man wrapped his arm around Abel's back and leaned close. “You're forgiven.” he

smiled and kissed his head, then added more seriously, “I want to know where you're
at, Abel, so if something happens...or you don't show up when you should...I'll know
where to start looking. When you don't tell me anything, I feel helpless.”

“I know. I'm sorry.” Abel mumbled.

“Why did you turn off your phone?”

Abel stood and rubbed the back of his neck again, anxiously. “I just...” What could

he say? His cell phone wasn't international. Even if he'd left it on, Cole couldn't have
gotten in contact with him. “I was...busy.” he said low. “I didn't want to
be...disturbed.”

“Busy doing what?” Cole stood up.

Getting fucked. Abel shook his head. “It doesn't matter.” When he turned away, Cole

caught his arm in a light, but restraining grip.

“It does matter, Abel.” he insisted. His eyes swept over his body. “And where did

you get these clothes? This is an expensive wardrobe. And since when did you start
wearing high class cologne—or any cologne for that matter.”

Fuck. Why hadn't he just undressed before going to bed? He hadn't planned on letting

Cole or Gabe see these clothes. The others that Kaplan had bought him, he'd left in the
limo—he didn't want them in his apartment. He didn't want them at all.

Abel jerked his arm loose, brow tightening. “What the fuck difference does it

make?”  he  snapped  and  shrugged  off  the  jacket,  throwing  it  on  the  floor.  “I  don't
fucking  want  them.”  His  hands  began  to  shake  as  he  hurriedly  unraveled  the  maroon
silk  tie  and  unbuttoned  the  shirt  then  nearly  tore  it  off,  dropping  it  down  with  his
jacket. “I don't want any of it!”

“Abel!” Cole grabbed his bare arm. “What's wrong with you?”

“Leave me alone!” he cried and quickly unfastened the pants then kicked them off

and shoved down the briefs Kaplan had supplied for him as well.

“What the hell are you doing?” Cole stared at him, brow pinched with confusion and

concern.

“I don't want any of it!” Abel choked and grabbed up the clothes then rushed bare-

assed into the kitchen and stuffed them in the trash, smashing them down, tears

streaming. “I don't fucking...want it!”

He started to sink to the floor when Cole caught him and dragged him into his arms,

holding him tight. “Abel, what the hell is going on, baby?” he whispered tight. “Tell me
what's wrong? What happened this weekend?”

Abel clutched his shirt, face shoved into his throat, aching to tell him, to have just

one person to be completely honest with. But he couldn't. If Cole knew...he wouldn't let
it go on. And Kaplan was his only option. Abel pulled out of Cole's arms and shook his
head, wiping his eyes. “I have to go see Savannah.” he choked quietly and walked back
to the bedroom.

“Abel.” Cole followed, face tight as he watched Abel grab clean clothes from the

bureau—his own clothes—and dress quickly. “Just talk to me.”

“I can't.” Abel whispered and went to the night stand by the bed and opened the

small drawer. Last night he remembered tucking the bank card and small envelope into
his wallet, then putting the wallet in the back of the drawer just before he crashed on
the bed.

Wallet in hand, he grabbed his cell phone and brushed past Cole, leaving the

bedroom. When he called a cab, Cole frowned, “What're you doing? I can take you.”

“No.” Abel murmured. “I want to go alone.” That wasn't true, and it hurt to push

Cole away, but he couldn't take all the questions right now. “I have to go.” He walked
out—when what he really wanted was to throw himself in Cole's arms and hide away
from the world.

Chapter Thirteen

An Ample Sum

Devlin made a point of being back at the hospital bright and early, though his

morning return had afforded him very few sleep hours, not that he had really slept. But
sleep was the least of his worries these days.

“Dr. Grant?” the nurse called him over as he passed the station. “Dr. Richards asked

if you could check the results of Mr. Thomas' blood tests.” She handed him a chart.

He smiled—“Of course.”—and turned around in time to bump into a young man in a

dark blue hoodie, the hood pulled over his head, hands stuffed in his jeans' pockets. “Oh
excuse me.” Devlin started when the kid picked up his pace, walking more quickly
towards the elevator. He frowned and watched the young man punch the up button on
the elevator panel, then glance quickly at Devlin.

Abel. Devlin moved in his direction. “Abel.” The elevator doors slid open and the kid

stepped  inside.  Devlin  broke  into  a  sprint  and  thrust  the  chart  between  the  closing
doors  before  they  connected  and  slipped  into  the  elevator.  Two  other  people  were  in
there,  a  man  and  a  woman,  who  smiled  politely  at  Devlin.  Abel  crept  back  to  the
corner,  half  shielded  by  the  couple's  bodies.  Devlin  waited,  willing  the  two  people  to
get off the elevator before they reached Savannah's floor.

When they exited two floors below, Devlin thanked his lucky stars and quickly

blocked Abel's path when he tried to exit with them, no doubt to take the stairs the rest
of the way up. Only when the doors closed again did he turn and face the boy. Abel
sucked back against the metal hand rail, head ducked.

The image of the boy from last night, sitting at Savannah's beside, swelled up in his

mind; Abel blaming himself for things Devlin didn't begin to understand, apologizing for
not being the brother Savannah thought he was—none of it made sense. Devlin hit the
button that stopped the elevator half way between floors. When the car jolted to a
stop, Abel's head jerked up. “What're you doing?”

“If I have to hijack an elevator to talk to you, then so be it.” Devlin said.

“There's nothing to talk about.” Abel said tightly, though carefully avoided Devlin's

eyes. “I told you—I didn't want to see you anymore.”

“I'm aware of what you said.” Devlin stared at him. “Well aware—since it ripped out

my heart.”

Abel shook his head, staring at the floor. “Don't do this.” he whispered.

“Don't do what, Abel?” Devlin stepped towards him. “Give a damn about you? Want a

few answers as to why one second we're making love and all up in each other's hearts—
and the next you're running from me like I'm the fucking plague or something?” He
raked a hand through his hair. “I'm sorry, but I can't shift gears that fast. I deserve an
explanation.”

Abel's hands pulled from his pockets and he hugged himself. “I asked you...to trust

me on this.” he whispered thickly.

Moving in closer, Devlin trapped the boy in the corner, gripping the hand rails on

either side of him, locking him in. “I'm sorry, Abel.” he murmured and leaned closer, his
face near Abel's. “I can't do that...I can't just take your word for it, not on something
like this. It's too...important.” And last night had only confirmed Devlin's belief that
Abel didn't really want him out of his life—but for whatever reason, believed he had to
push him out.

Abel turned his face away as Devlin raised one hand and peeled off the hood of his

sweatshirt—then ran his fingers through his hair. “Please don't...” Abel trembled, eyes
closed.

“I have to.” Devlin told him softly and let his fingertips glide down over the boy's

smooth cheek, so warm to the touch. “I won't just walk away from this...from you.” His
thumb slid over Abel's lower lip, velvet soft and sweet as honey as he recalled. Against
his better judgment, Devlin took a chance and stole a light kiss, aching to feel Abel kiss
him back with passion as he'd done before.

I love you. The words trembled on his lips...then took flight on audible wings before

he could cage them again.

* * * *

Abel trembled, eyes closed, heart beating a jagged hole in his chest as Devlin's warm

mouth lingered against his lips, the man's words—“I love you”—floating, as in limbo, on
the air—which suddenly seemed too thick to breathe.

Don't say that! It isn't fair! Tears pooled behind Abel's eyelids and he squeezed

tighter to keep them in. “No...you don't.” he shuddered quietly, though he knew the
man spoke true.

“I do.” Devlin caressed his lips over the corner of Abel's mouth, then his cheek. “I

love you, Abel. I started falling for you the moment I saw you.”

Abel shook his head, throat aching as a lump swelled up thick. “I'm not...someone

you can love.”

“I already do.” Devlin whispered and brought his mouth back to Abel's lips and kissed

him again, “I already do, baby.”

Stop saying that...please...Abel couldn't stop himself from returning Devlin's kiss—

not when his entire being longed for the man in ways he hadn't known possible. He
clutched the hand rails, unwilling to take hold of Devlin though, knowing if he did...he
might never let go again.

Devlin's hands cupped his face and their kiss deepened, the man's tongue tentatively

exploring  his  mouth. Abel  moaned,  squeezing  the  rails  hard  until  his  knuckles  ached,
fighting  the  need  to  touch  the  man,  hold  him,  let  his  very  presence  eradicate  all
memories  of  Kaplan.  But  thoughts  of  Kaplan  brought  up  images  of  Craig  as  well—and
reality  crashed  back  on  him  with  enough  force  to  jolt  him  physically.  He  broke  out  of
the kiss suddenly and shoved past Devlin, hitting the button on the panel, causing the
elevator to jerk and start moving again.

Before Devlin could react, the doors were opening. “You only love...who you think I

am,” Abel choked then rushed out, walking hurriedly towards Savannah's room. When
he cast a quick glance behind him, the corridor was empty and the elevator doors were
closing.

Abel leaned against the wall outside Savannah's room and sucked in deep breaths to

quell the tears and calm his pounding heart, but even as he put up the fight, the tears
were running free, rolling down his cheeks and dripping off his chin, seeping into the
fabric of his sweatshirt.

Fuck! His fist clenched and cocked, ready to punch the wall, when a couple of nurses

appeared in the hall. He rubbed his face on the sleeve of his sweatshirt and slipped
inside his sister's room.

When Savannah questioned him about his tears, he gave her a lame excuse she

clearly didn't buy, but she didn't push him for the truth. “Where did you go this
weekend?” she asked quietly, her large eyes studying him. “What did you have to take
care of?”

Why did everyone keep asking him questions he couldn't answer? “Savannah—” his

words cut short when the door opened and Dr. Jacobs entered—along with Devlin. The
man gazed at him intently, a determination in his midnight eyes despite Abel's
consistent rejection of him.

What rejection? Every time the man touches you—you succumb and melt in his

hands. Man, your actions are speaking so loud—he ain't hearing a word you say.

* * * *

The boy didn't flinch when Jacobs told him he needed to speak with the hospital's

financial liaison about setting up some form of payment method for Savannah's hospital
stay.

I have the money…I can take care of you. Abel's words to Savannah last night. What

money?

As the silent question rolled around his mind, the young man nodded.

“There are medical plans.” Jacobs told the boy. “I'm sure you would have no

problem getting her set up with one of them.”

Abel shook his head. “It's okay.” he murmured. “I can pay.”

“That's a lot of money.” Jacobs frowned, uncertain. “And then along with the cost of

Savannah's treatment...it's going to be very expensive.”

Abel carefully avoided Devlin's gaze. “I know.”

Worry squeezed Savannah's brow. “Abel...”

“I'll take care of it.” he told her. “Don't worry.” The girl nodded and went silent, but

the uncertainty in her eyes remained.

Devlin moved back when the door opened and a woman in her late thirties entered.

“This is Ms. Eckhart.” Jacobs told Abel. “She'll help you set up payment.”

The woman smiled at Abel and drew him aside. “We can discuss a payment plan—”

“I don't need a payment plan.” Abel said quietly and took out his wallet. Devlin

watched in mild shock as the boy plucked out a bank card and handed it to the liaison.
“This will cover it.”

Eckhart took the card hesitantly. “Are you sure? Savannah's treatment here—”

“As long as it isn't more than twenty thousand dollars,” Abel spoke low, as if not

wishing for Savannah to hear. “Then there's enough.”

Twenty thousand dollars? Devlin couldn't hide the shock on his face as Abel glanced

at him quickly then looked away as what he could only describe as shame flicked behind
the boy's golden eyes.

Chapter Fourteen

Sinful Confessions

“Max is anticipating a large crowd this weekend.”

Abel twisted around on the bar stool and leaned back on his elbows on the bar,

eyeing a customer who had been lusting over him from a distance for the last half hour.
“Yeah?” he murmured with disinterest.

“Some major business convention.” Cole said, watching the boy. “We always get

extra customers during those events.”

Abel nodded absently, rubbing his lips together, taunting the man at the table.

“You should clean up pretty good.” Cole's gaze shifted to the man, who was about

two seconds from approaching Abel. “You're always one of the favorites with those
guys.”

Sliding off the stool, Abel shook his head slowly, “I won't be here.”

“What?” Cole started, but Abel was moving in on his prey. The boy's whole attitude

seemed  off.  He  rarely  did  the  stalking,  but  rather  let  the  prey  come  to  him.  Abel
approached  the  man,  teased  him  with  light  touches,  taunting  smiles,  deliberately
moving around him so that his crotch repeatedly brushed close to the customer's face.
The  kid  was  always  good  at  the  seduction,  but  it  seemed  different  this  time,  like
watching a flesh covered machine. No emotion showed in his eyes or on his face, which
was odd for Abel. He could never totally hold his emotions at bay.

The customer scooted his chair back and Abel stepped in between his knees, giving

the guy a little teaser dance—not uncommon, to get them hooked so they would pay
more to get more.

Abel ran his fingers through the man's hair, straddled his lap and sat, rolling his ass

against his crotch. This was more than Abel usually gave up out here in front. Cole
frowned as the boy allowed the man to fondle his ass, reaching deep down inside the
back of his pants to handle his bare flesh.

A hard breath pushed up Cole's throat as his frown tightened. Abel was all over the

guy, caressing, kissing up and down his neck. When he finally stood up, the man
followed eagerly, crotch bulging, trailing Abel to one of the lap dance cubicles.

Just how much are you going to give him? A tightening of Cole's gut suggested the

boy  may  overstep  the  typical  eighty-percent  allotment.  He  didn't  like  that—it  wasn't
Abel.  It  might  be  more  common  with  some  of  the  other  boys,  but  not Abel. And  after
learning the details of his past, Cole understood his aversion to the in-depth touching.
But  now...he  was  all  for  it?  This  thing  with  Devlin  was  messing  the  boy  up  bad,  but
would it effect him this way? Maybe he's just to the place where he thinks 'fuck it' and
just don't care anymore.

Cole rubbed his eyes. “Maybe.” he whispered, slight nausea invading his gut. It hurt

to see Abel going down this path...and feeling helpless to change his course.

* * * *

The man produced a wad of bills, pinched between his fingers, and grinned up at

Abel from the red vinyl cushioned chair. “What'll this get me?” His eyes raked over
Abel's body, lingering on his crotch.

Abel leaned over and gripped the man's thighs, slinking in close, letting his lips skim

across the man's cheek to his ear. “I like you, so...” his lips glided down the man's neck
and up again. “...maybe a little more than my usual customers get from me.”

Groaning soft, the man smiled, “I like that.”

Abel drew back and turned on the music, a slower beat, and went about removing

his clothes, painstakingly slow until the man was whimpering with need. Down to his
skimpy shorts, he moved in between the man's legs and swayed his crotch in the guy's
face.

“Fuck, yes.” the man moaned and stuffed the cash down the front of Abel's shorts.

When he went to draw back, Abel grabbed his hand.

“Tuck that cash in deeper.” he murmured, eyes heavy, a smile twitching his lips. He

pushed the man's hand deeper inside his shorts and rubbed his cock against his palm.
“Don't want it slipping out.”

“No we don't.” he rasped and squeezed Abel's dick. His lips touched Abel's stomach

as his other hand slid up the back of his thigh to his ass, fingers shoving under the
scanty shorts, gripping his firm cheek. “Oh fuck, baby, you feel good.”

Able smiled, eyes dull, feeling nothing as his fingers dove into the man's hair as he

rocked his hips, pushing his cock against the guy's hand and practically rubbing his
crotch in his face. He closed his eyes and squeezed fistfuls of hair as the man's mouth
moved lower and began sucking his cock through his shorts. “Mmm.” Abel moaned, for
effect. When the guy went to tug down his shorts for a fuller taste, Abel pushed him
back in the chair and smiled coolly, “Let me.”

The customer adjusted in the chair as Abel went down on him, tugging open his

pants and pulling out his stiff cock. The man was circumcised and his cock head was
thick, slightly purple, and bubbling clear cum juice. As Abel's hands slid up and down his
shaft, a low pulse followed his fists. He kept up the stroking as he dipped his head and
covered the bulbous crown with his mouth, sucking firmly, his tongue teasing the ultra-
sensitive groove on the underside of the head.

“Holy shit!” the man gasped and grabbed Abel's head, hips lifting.

The thick vein running along the underside of his shaft was full and pressed into

Abel's palms as they slid up and down his hot, tacky flesh.

“Ahh fuck.” the man swallowed hard. “What'll it cost me to get my cock in your

ass?”

Abel raised his head and licked his lips, smiling dryly. “Sorry, baby...this ass is

reserved for the boys with the big bucks.”

“How big?” the man groaned as Abel's thumb massaged his cock head.

“Five thousand a pop.”

“Fuck.” the man's head dropped back against the seat. “You're that good?”

Abel shrugged and dragged his tongue across the man's cock. “Apparently some think

so.”

Leaning forward again, the guy shoved his fingers through Abel's hair and gazed at

him through crisp blue eyes that resembled Devlin's far too much. When the man moved
in for a kiss on the mouth, Abel drew back abruptly and stood up, a sudden tremor to
his legs and hands, heart pounding at the base of his throat. His eyes began to burn
without apparent cause.

“Session's over.” he mumbled.

“You're fucking kidding me, right?” the man stared at him, incredulous. He indicated

his fiercely hard cock. “You're gonna just leave me like this?”

“That's how the game is played.” Abel said quietly, tightly, and turned away,

walking out of the booth, low curses thrust at his back.

* * * *

Some of the boys in the club were beginning to look at Devlin like a regular, though

few, if any, ever approached him. It seemed common knowledge at the Phoenix that
Devlin was there for Abel—and Abel alone. No doubt spread around by Cole and Gabe.
They struck him as the types to be defensive of what they perceived belonged to Abel.

Devlin didn't mind. He didn't relish the idea of being groped and fondled each time he
set foot in the place. And he liked the thought of belonging to Abel.

But his master was far too evasive, having slipped away from the hospital earlier

before  Devlin  could  grab  another  opportunity  to  question  him  about  the  source  of  his
sudden  financial  windfall.  Where  the  hell  would  a  nineteen-year-old  kid  get  his  hands
on  twenty-thousand  dollars—nearly  overnight?  The  elusive  answer  to  that  question
ground his guts into knots. Did he even want to know?

He supposed that question was answered by the fact that he was standing in the club

yet again, searching for his runaway angel.

“Beginning to think you fancy our club, doc.” Cole approached him, non-threatening

but with enough warning in his pale eyes to let Devlin know he wasn't about to play
games when it came to Abel.

“Cole,” Devlin swallowed thick. “Look...I know Abel told me not to come back,

but...something isn't right with him. I can see it...and I can't ignore it.” he licked his
lips anxiously, glancing past Cole in search of the boy. “I'm worried about him.” he
shifted his gaze back to Cole's face. “Where did he go this last weekend?”

Cole shook his head, and Devlin detected a note of concern in the man's eyes. He

knows something is wrong as well. “I don't know. He didn't say.”

“So he didn't explain where he got the twenty-thousand dollars to put towards his

sister's care?”

Cole's eyes widened. “What?” he nearly choked on the word. “Twenty thousand

dollars? What the hell are you talking about? Abel don't have that kind of money.”

Cocking his head, Devlin murmured, “He does now.” On the far side of the club, Abel

emerged from back by the booths—wearing only skimpy shorts much like the ones he'd
worn on stage, though these were a glossy silver rather than blue. Instant jealousy
stabbed Devlin's heart at the thought of him using that beautiful body to arouse another
man. It was ridiculous to feel that way—the boy was a stripper—but he couldn't help it;
he only wanted Abel stripping for him.

Cole twisted around and followed his stare. “Abel!” he called, then flicked his

fingers, motioning the boy to come over.

Uncertainty tightened the boy's face when he spied Devlin. He shook his head and

walked the other way. Without waiting for Cole to act, Devlin brushed past him and
broke into a fast walk, catching up to Abel as he entered the back of the club. “Abel.”
he grabbed his arm, pulling the boy around.

Abel jerked his arm free. “What the hell do you want from me?” he asked tightly,

but an instant sheen glazed his eyes. “God, man, can't you take a hint? I don't fucking
want you around, okay?”

“You're full of shit, Abel.” Devlin said. “If you didn't want anything to do with

me...you wouldn't have kissed me back, there in the elevator this morning.” He
swallowed hard, throat squeezing. “You think I can't see, or feel, how much you want to
be with me?”

“You just want to see it.” Abel turned away. “But it's an illusion—”

Devlin had him pinned to the wall before even he himself knew what he was doing,

crushing Abel's mouth with a passionate kiss. Abel whimpered and flattened his hands to
the wall as Devlin pressed closer, grabbed his hands and placed them on his body.
“Touch me, baby.” he moaned through their kiss. He pressed Abel's hand to his heart.
“Feel that?” he kissed him again. “That's my heart...beating for you.” he nuzzled the
boy's neck, emotion cracking his voice. “Only for you.”

“Stop it.” Abel choked, his fingers curling, balling Devlin's shirt in his fists.

“Where were you this weekend?” Devlin shoved his face against the young man's

neck, eyes stinging. “Where did you get the money, Abel? What's going on with you? Just
talk to me, dammit.”

* * * *

Frustration and anger boiled inside Abel. This wasn't fair. It wasn't fucking fair! He'd

waited all his life for this, for this one love, this...one man. And now—he had to fucking
throw him away.

“Devlin, stop.” he choked again, hands against the man's warm, firm chest, trying to

push him back when he just wanted to cling to him, get lost in his arms.

Devlin cupped his face. “No, Abel. I meant what I said this morning.” he kissed him

softly. “I love you, baby. I love you so much it's killing me to be away from you. I know I
must seem like a desperate fool, but I don't care—I am.”

Grabbing at his hands, Abel shook his head, warm tears squeezing out. “I'm not who

you think I am.” he cried low.

“Then who are you?”

Abel trembled, the man's deep blue eyes blurring before him. Say whatever you

have to say to make him leave. Tell him part of the truth...and maybe he won't insist
on the rest. His jaw tightened and he pushed Devlin back hard. “I'm a whore, all right!”
he choked out through clenched teeth, eyes burning. “You wanna know where I was this

weekend? Where I got the money? I fucked a man for it!

“He pays me five thousand dollars every weekend to let him fuck me! Are you happy

now? Is that what you wanted to hear?” Abel swiped fiercely at his eyes, choking on his
cries. “I'm a fucking whore! Nothing else! So just leave me the fuck alone!”

Tears rose up in Devlin's eyes as he tried to compute what Abel was telling him. But

it was sinking in. I'm sorry! Abel screamed silently. I'm so sorry, baby! But I don't know
what else to do! I can't tell you everything! I can't be with you!

The tears breaking and sliding down the man's face, Devlin shook his head. “Why,

Abel?” he cried softly. “I offered you the money, why...would you rather get it like this?
Why?”

Abel retreated, sagging back against the wall, twisting away from the man. “Don't

ask questions you don't want the answer to.” he whispered, turning his face to the wall.
“Just leave. There's...nothing here for you.”

He didn't hear the man leave, but felt the emptiness when he was gone. Like a black

hole, sucking him in. He buried his face in his arms and cried.

“Is it true?” Cole's tear thick voice pierced his clouded mind. “What you just told

Devlin,” Abel was pulled around and both arms gripped hard. “Is it true, Abel!”

Abel tucked his chin to his chest, tears streaming. He nodded, breaking down. Then

he was deep in Cole's embrace, the man squeezing him tight, lips pressed to his hair.
“Fuck.” he choked. “Abel...what the hell were you thinking, baby?”

Abel closed his eyes and held onto the man.

“We'll fix this, baby.” Cole murmured, kissing his head. “We'll find another way to

get the money.”

Shaking his head slowly, the emptiness, hopelessness, seeped through Abel's mind,

draining down into his heart. “You can't fix it.” he whispered thickly, dull. “The deal is
sealed.”

Maybe I'll keep you forever. Abel could tell himself he was in control, that he could

walk away anytime he wanted. But it wasn't true. Kaplan owned him. And now that he'd
fucked him—he wasn't going to let him go.

Chapter Fifteen

No More Secrets

The black hole that had formed when Devlin walked out, grew in substantial

circumference and depth with each day that passed. Devlin didn't come back to the
club. He was nowhere to be seen at the hospital—not that Abel was looking for him, or
so he repeatedly told himself. It was as if the man had dropped off the face of the
earth...out of existence.

Abel wished he could do the same.

What he had thought would bring a measure of relief in telling Devlin the truth

about Kaplan—in that it would keep the man away from him—served only to generate
more stress and heartache. The pain never stopped, and awake or asleep—he couldn't
put down that look in Devlin's eyes when he'd told him he let another man fuck him for
money.

His insistence to himself that this was best for everyone, that Devlin finally got it

that Abel didn't want to be with him—was weak, at best, in comforting his broken
heart. Everything hurt. Fuck, it hurt just to exist. And he longed not to exist. Had it not
been for Savannah...he was sure he would be sitting in a tub full of crimson water, his
lifeblood seeping out of his wrists. The thought didn't bother him, that he could be so
willing to kill himself, even fantasize about it. The only thought that disturbed him was
the one of Savannah being alone in this fucked up world. She had—quite literally—
become his sole purpose for living.

Should he ever come such drastic ends—Cole and Gabe would suffer, but they had

each other. They weren't alone. And Devlin...the man had already written him off.
Would he even notice if Abel suddenly ceased to exist?

Abel lay on top of his bed and watched morning push out the night shadows. Friday

morning. Maybe he should again go to Kaplan early. Just get the fuck out of here. This
time—when Kaplan fucked him—there would be no tears, no fear or panic, no silent
pleas to come home. In fact, he would dread the return to the city...to this life, or
what passed for life here. He had thought that in Devlin letting him go...he could move
on, be content somehow.

But it had had the opposite effect on him. Now...he just wanted to quit, lay down

and die. He hadn't known just how devastating it could be to lose a man life Devlin

Grant. To be loved so powerfully by someone like him—and then suddenly...not. It had
ripped out his heart, and that wasn't something he'd been prepared for.

The sun was just beginning to stab its fingers through the city, between the

buildings, when Abel finally drifted off. He was sure he had only been out for seconds
when the knock on his door jolted him back to unwelcome consciousness.

Cole. All week him and Gabe had been doing their damnedest to deter Abel from

Kaplan, Cole even going as far as insisting he would physically restrain Abel from
setting foot anywhere near the man. But in the end, Cole knew he couldn't stop him.

Abel crawled off the bed, still fully dressed from the day before. He rarely actually

went to bed anymore. Having turned down the heat last night, the apartment had a
slight chill. His toes tried to curl away from the cold floor as he walked to the door, the
insistent knocks informing him that Cole would not be deterred by him taking his time
opening up.

Was this a last ditch effort to prevent another jaunt overseas as the Kaplan's escort?

It wouldn't do any good. Abel was going. He wanted to go. It hurt too much to be here.
By the time he got back, Savannah would be ready to come home, and any doctors she
saw after that, wouldn't be at that hospital.

Abel unlocked the deadbolt and twisted the knob, dragging open the door. He could

stop worrying about running into Devlin. He would never have to see the man again-

“Abel.” Devlin's deep ocean eyes grabbed his stare, holding on, refusing to let go.

* * * *

The boy looked as if he were staring at a ghost. Devlin couldn't blame him; he'd

disappeared for a week, and surely the young man believed he was as good as dead and
gone from his life. But despite the massive hole Abel had punched through his heart—
Devlin wasn't ready yet to give up the fight. Too many vivid memories remained for
him to just throw it all away. He would never get over Abel, never stop loving him no
matter what the boy threw at him. And there was no way he could go on, day after day,
with that depth of love in his heart—without the young man in his life to supplement it.

“What...” Abel swallowed with effort, his throat working to push out the words.

“What are you...doing here?” Devlin entered without an invitation and walked past
Abel. “You can't...be here.” Abel's voice strained with emotion.

“I already am.” Devlin faced him. “And we're going to talk, Abel. And I mean talk for

real. No more of this evasive shit. You've been running from me since that day in the
coffee shop and I want to fucking know why.”

Abel stared at him, eyes widened with fear, arms snaking around his waist.

“I...can't...”

“Bullshit.” Devlin stepped towards him and the boy backed away. “You can. And you

will. I am not leaving here until I get some fucking answers.”

Shaking his head, Abel turned his back to Devlin. “You don't want...the answers.”

“Stop telling me what I fucking want, Abel.” his chest heaved and he closed the

space between them, turning Abel around. “If I say I want answers, then I fucking mean
it.” Tears were already coursing down Abel's cheek. Devlin rubbed them away with his
thumbs, softening his tone a bit. “How can it be that bad, baby? That you would refuse
my help and...” he shook his head, still holding Abel's face. He pulled him close and
kissed his forehead. “Why is it so hard to trust me when I say I would never turn on you?
Do you think I would be this persistent if I didn't want to work it out, fix it?” He lifted
Abel's chin and stroked his damp face. “Do I strike you as a man who is even remotely
ready to give up on all this?”

Come on, baby, just give me a chance to understand. Where would he go from here

if Abel absolutely refused to tell him?

A deep, cutting ache crept through Abel's eyes and he rubbed his hands over

Devlin's. “Why did we have to meet?”

“Baby, what are you talking about?” Devlin moaned softly and kissed his lips.

“Meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me.”

Abel pressed closer and touched his forehead to the base of Devlin's throat and

shook his head slowly. “I'm going to ruin your life.” he cried softly. “What you feel for
me now...it's all going to...go away.” He trembled and slipped his arms around Devlin's
body, hugging him so tight, almost desperately. His body shook with sobs. “You won't
love me anymore.”

“Abel.” Devlin rubbed his back and kissed his hair. “Baby, you can't really believe

that. I'll always love you.”

Abel pulled back and wiped his face. “No...you won't.”

His tongue was loaded with another protest about to lunge forth—when Cole stepped

through the door, with Gabe right behind him.

* * * *

A quick survey of the scene left Cole in a bit of confusion; what the hell was Devlin

doing here? The man had done a disappearing act right after Abel had told him about
his extra-curricular activities. Cole had half expected to never see the man again. And
now, to see Abel practically in Devlin's arms, clearly upset—he wasn't sure what to

think.

“So...” he said slowly, cautiously as Gabe closed the door behind them.

“What's...going on here?”

Devlin met his stare head on. “Abel was about to give me some answers.”

The kid's head jerked up in start, looking at Devlin; apparently that was news to

Abel.

“Is that true, Abel?” Cole asked quietly. Though he wasn't looking at him or touching

him, Cole sensed Gabe grow tense. His greatest fear for the boy was Abel going to
prison. Cole feared the same.

“I don't...” Abel's gaze evaded everyone.

“I told you,” Devlin looked at Abel, his voice tightening. “I'm not leaving until you

explain why you would rather...sell yourself...than accept my help. Because it isn't
fucking computing with me.”

This was it. Cole could feel it. The moment of truth. Devlin had reached the end of

his rope and he wouldn't be deterred this time. And frankly, Cole couldn't blame him. In
his place, Cole would be right there demanding answers as well.

“Abel.” Cole murmured. “Maybe it's time.”

“Cole.” Gabe stepped close. Anxiety and fear tightened his face.

Cole touched his arm then looked at Devlin with stern eyes as he spoke to Gabe. “It's

okay. We won't let anything happen to Abel.” he told him quietly. His gaze shifted to
the boy. “Maybe it's better to just...get it over with, Abel.”

The kid stared at him, fear pulsating in his amber eyes.

* * * *

Get it over with? Tell him...

“Cole.” Fear welled up in Abel. He moved towards Cole, voice lowering, “I...can't.”

Each syllable stretched taut with emotion. “You know...I can't.”

Tension thickened the air inside the small apartment. A low ringing settled in Abel's

ears as, for a moment, no one spoke. Then Cole was gripping his shoulder, head ducked
towards him, “You can't keep running from him.” Cole murmured. “And he isn't going to
stop asking...until you tell him the truth.” He squeezed Abel's shoulder. “And
maybe...he has a right to know.”

Abel began to shake as the memories crashed back in on him, vivid details of the

nightmare that had lasted two years. He shook his head and leaned against Cole's
shoulder. “I can't, Cole.” he choked. “I can't tell him...”

“You can, Abel.” Devlin stepped forward. “I'll listen, I promise.”

Cole hugged Abel's shoulder. “Trust me.” he told Devlin quietly. “You have no idea

what you're asking him to tell you.” Abel shuddered and pressed closer to Cole. How
could he say the words that would rip Devlin's heart—and life—apart? Words that would
turn him against Abel forever? “And if he does tell you,” Cole added low. “You're going
to stay right here and talk it out. ‘Cause I'll be damned if I'm going to let you run out of
here and do something rash.”

As if on cue, Gabe stepped over to the door and locked it, then crossed his arms

over his chest and leaned on it. Devlin shot him an uncertain look. “I don't know what it
is...you think I'm going to do.” he said slowly, shifting his focus back on Cole. “But I'll
stay, we'll...figure this out.” Abel glanced at him from beneath his blond lashes. Devlin's
voice swelled with sincerity. “I'll do whatever I have to...to make things right, Abel.”

The man had no idea what he was getting into. But Cole was right—he wouldn't stop

until he got the truth.

“You should sit down.” Cole told the man. Devlin swallowed tightly then sank down

on the edge of the sofa cushion. Cole gripped Abel's shoulders from behind, and spoke
close to his ear. “It's okay, Abel. We're right here.”

Abel shot Gabe a quick glance. The guy still stood with arms crossed, guarding the

door. He turned his eyes slowly back towards Devlin. The man gazed at him with a bit
of uncertainty and apprehension. It was warranted.

Pressing back against Cole's strong body for comfort, Abel whispered, “When I was

thirteen and...Savannah was ten...” he swallowed hard. “We were...taken from our
parents and put in the care of the state.” he stared at his hands then hugged himself,
evading Devlin's eyes. “We were sent to...an inner city orphanage in...Chicago.”

Devlin straightened a little, brow beginning to pinch. He dragged his hand slowly

over his mouth but said nothing.

“I...” his words lodged and Cole touched his shoulders. “I met...” his pulse quickened

suddenly, hitching his breath. “I met...your brother.”

“What?” Devlin's frown deepened. “You knew...Craig? Why didn't you tell me...” his

words drained off when he caught the look on Abel's face. “What is this about? What
does my brother have to do with anything?” And the walls were beginning to rise. Abel
could see them, building up behind Devlin's blue eyes, that defensiveness that stated he
would protect his brother's memory at all costs.

“Craig...” Just the name wanted to kick in his panic. “He...didn't know me as...Abel.

That's not...my real name.” he was shaking again, tears burning. “I changed mine and
Savannah's names when we...when we ran away.”

Quick breath rushed through Devlin's nostrils. This was going to be bad. So very bad.

“My real name...” Abel's throat knotted and tears began to fall as he spoke the

name that would rip Devlin away from him forever. “...is Jesse.”

Chapter Sixteen

Escape From Yesterday

Jesse.

The name hung like a grenade in the air, pin pulled, lever about to be released to

explode through Devlin's heart, his mind, destroying everything in its path. He couldn't
comprehend what was being said to him. Jesse. Abel's real name was...Jesse? But he
couldn't be the same...

Devlin stood and walked numbly into the kitchen area, standing at the table, back

to the others. His hand snaked up and rubbed the back of his neck slowly as he stared
blankly at the table top. “I don't understand...” he turned and faced them again. Abel
stood pressed back against Cole as if the man were his refuge, safe haven. His gaze fell
on the boy and he tried to view him objectively, as someone who could...he shook his
head.

“No.” he rasped. “You can't be...him.” His mind refused to accept that the same boy

he had made love to twice, who had swept into his life and completely consumed his
heart, could be the same Jesse who had...taken his brother's life in cold blood.

“I am.” Abel trembled, barely audible. One after another, tears swelled and ran

over.

An ache wound through Devlin's jaw, shooting straight up into his eyes, instantly

filling  them  with  tears  of  pan  and  anger.  “Then...why?  Why  would…would  you...”  he
choked  on  a  cry  and  shook  his  head.  “No...I  don't  believe  it...you're  not  him...you
wouldn't do something...like that, Abel.” he squeezed his eyes shut, dislodging his tears,
and  laced  his  hands  behind  his  neck.  “You  wouldn't  hurt...an  innocent  person.  I  can't
believe that you would...that you could.”

“I didn't.” Abel whispered, voice shaking.

“What?” Devlin looked at him, confused. “What do you mean....”

Abel shook his head, new tears rising, arms tightening around his waist. “He

wasn't...innocent.”

Uncertainty darkened Devlin's eyes, a defensiveness swelling up in him. What was he

trying to say? “What....”

“He wasn't the innocent victim.” Abel cried, head dropping. He clutched at his own

arms, then whispered, “I was.”

“What're you talking about?” Devlin's pulse was suddenly racing too fast for him to

catch his breath, his heart kicking at his chest wall.

“”His death...wasn't murder.” Abel choked, lifting his eyes without raising his head.

His blond lashes, wet with tears, stuck together and, oddly, that's what Devlin's focus
centered on; those lashes that had always lent an adorable sexiness to the boy's
beautiful amber eyes. “It was...self defense.”

Nausea roiled in his gut then pinch his intestines. What the fuck was he talking

about? Craig was murdered! Cold blooded fucking murder! “No.” Devlin shook his head,
face hardening as he clung protectively to his brother's memory. “No...he was
murdered. In cold blood. There was no reason.”

“There was!” Abel cried suddenly. “He raped me! For two fucking years, he...” Abel

choked on his cries and dropped his head again. “...he raped me.”

No-no-no...this wasn't true...it couldn't be...Not Craig...he would never....

Tears rushed down Devlin's face. “No.” he ground out tight between clenched teeth.

“No, he wouldn't do that. Craig was...was a good man. The best!”

“He was a fucking child molester!” Abel nearly screamed. “He was going to rape

Savannah! She was only ten fucking years old! He wasn't a good man! He was a fucking
monster!”

“No!” Devlin cried. “You're lying! You're fucking lying! Craig would not do that!”

“He did!” Abel choked, gasping, shaking. “He did, Devlin...I'm sorry...but he did it!

And he wouldn't stop! I had to...I had to stop him.”

“No!” Devlin raked his hands through his hair, squeezing fistfuls, pacing erratically.

Sobs piled in his throat, choking him. “You're a fucking liar, Abel!”

“I'm not lying!” the boy screamed. “It's the truth! He did it! He hurt me, Devlin! And

he liked hurting me!”

“No—fuck you!” he raged, his mind coming apart. “My brother was good! You think

I'm going to take the word of some fucking little whore over my own brother? Fuck you!
You're going to pay for this!”

Abel recoiled instantly, all fight dissipating at a moment's notice—and the fist

cracked his jaw before he even realized Cole had moved. Pain and blackness shot
through his head and he dropped, crashing into the coffee table. He lay unmoving,
stunned, all sound around him muffled in his ears. As if from a distance, he heard Abel
crying, yelling at Cole to stop even as a hand grabbed the front of his shirt and jerked
him upright again.

He steeled himself for another blow, somewhere deep inside knowing he deserved it

and willing the man to beat him to a bloody mess.

* * * *

“Cole! Stop!” Abel grabbed at Cole's arm before he could deliver another blow.

“Don't!”

Cole's face twisted in rage and looked as if he meant to kill the man. But instead,

shoved him down hard onto the sofa. Devlin wiped a shaky across his mouth, drawing
away bloody saliva.

His legs were unsteady as he crawled off the sofa and stumbled towards the door,

but Gabe stepped forward, arms uncrossing, fists clenched.

Devlin was crying, eyes frantic, desperate. “Let me out.” he choked, about to drop

to the floor.

Gabe's fists tightened, eyes like steel. “We told you—”

“Let him go, Gabe.” Abel cried. “Just let him go.”

Gabe hesitated then stepped back, unlocking the door. Devlin rushed past him,

jerking the door open hard and fleeing the apartment. Abel turned and collapsed in
Cole's arms, shaking violently, crying uncontrollably.

“Do you think he'll....” Gabe's voice strained with fear and tension.

“I don't know.” Cole whispered, holding Abel tight, rubbing his back, kissing his hair.

“Call Max—now.”

Abel clung to Cole, his cries cutting off his breath. He gasped for air, trying to

breathe, but Devlin's words continued to punch him in chest, the heart, refusing to let
him get air.

You're a fucking liar, Abel! You think I'm going to take the word of some fucking

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