Lethal Obsession: Caged

Michele L. Montgomery

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s

imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual

events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Lethal Obsession: Caged by Michele L. Montgomery

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print

without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews. Due to

copyright laws you cannot trade, sell, or give any ebooks away.

This is a work of fiction. All references to real places, people, or events are coincidental, and if

not coincidental, are used fictitiously. All trademarks, service marks, registered trademarks, and

registered service marks are the property of their respective owners and are used herein for

identification purposes only.

Having an idea for a story is something I don’t find myself short of. Working with those ideas

and keeping them in order is a whole different story. So, for keeping me focused, for having faith

in me, for being available to me at all hours with my endless panic attacks, this book belongs to

Sid and Lisa. I love you both.

Lethal Obsession: Caged

"The road in life runs but two ways: the right way and the wrong, to the left or to the

right, uphill or downhill; but whichever you choose and no matter which road in life you

take, they all end, and in the end they always come back to you." — Sidney

Prologue

“Babe, that beautiful, sexy, and very available man-beast is here.”

“And he’s too young for you.”

Nicholas turned to see Paul, his lover, partner, and husband coming up behind him with

the oh-so-sexy smile on his handsome face that had captivated him many years before.

Paul came up to stand behind Nicholas and wrapped both his muscular arms around his

husband’s trim waist. “Behave yourself, you floozy.”

Nicholas giggled and leaned into the man he’d loved for more than half his lifetime. Paul

kissed the top of his head and smiled warmly, his mind already fast-forwarding to the end of the

evening when he could have his husband all to himself once again. Of course, he was looking

forward to spending time with their expected company too. Lucca was the son of their dearest

friends, and he would never dream of rushing the evening, but his husband still drove him to

distraction, even after all the years they’d been together.

Nicholas turned his head and gave Paul a quick, searing kiss, then returned his attention

to the glass door, sharply elbowing Paul in the ribs. “Whoa, just look at how he’s filled out since

we saw him last.”

Paul gave his husband a playful nudge and kissed the top of his head again. “He has done

that, hasn’t he?”

“You haven’t even seen him yet. Your eyes have been glued to me since you walked up

behind me. Not that I’m complaining, but still.” Nicholas literally purred when Paul nibbled on

his neck and pressed his cock a little more firmly against his husband’s ass.

“Mmm, you taste like watermelon, and yes, I have seen him. I met with him early last

week for lunch; did you forget already?”

Nicholas laid his head back to rest against his husband’s chest. “The boys and I shared a

watermelon by the pool. It was so sweet and juicy that it reminded me of you. And when I’m

around you, I forget everything.”

Paul laughed and swatted his thigh. “Stand up straight. He’s coming.”

Nicholas forced himself to focus. He glanced down at his pants and squeaked, “Look

what you did. I can’t make the acquaintance of that innocent boy with this,” he said, pointing to

the obvious bulge in his pants, “looking like that! Think icky thoughts. I need icky thoughts.

Help me!”

Paul laughed and squeezed him a bit tighter. He leaned into him and whispered, “Old

man Jones in the nude.”

A vision of the aging neighbor with his pot belly and gray, wispy hair did the trick. His

dick deflated so quickly he thought it might have died. “I think you killed it. You’ll need to give

it CPR later, dear.”

“Count on it. Now hush, here he comes.”

Nicholas cleared his throat and watched Lucca walking away from his black luxury SUV,

his briefcase in one hand, and a phone held to his ear with the other. The man’s custom tailored

suit accentuated his broad shoulders and narrow waist. His long legs and confident stride were

fluid and graceful, the personification of strength in motion, communicating an unspoken

authority and command for respect. Dark hair, olive skin, a wide, sensual mouth, and a Roman

nose all spoke of his Italian ancestry. As he approached the steps, he removed his shades to

reveal a pair of dark eyes that appeared capable of looking straight through to a person’s soul.

“And yes, I do remember something about a meeting with Mr. Hot Pants.”

Paul chuckled and kissed his cheek. “Liar. Did you make sure to have Mario prepare our

drinks? It’s hot outside today.”

Nicholas gasped and raised his hand to his neck in shock. “Of course I did. I still hold the

hostess of the year award, or have you forgotten?”

“How could one forget such an important accomplishment, my dear man? I mean, the

very thought that you hold three master’s degrees in various fields is nothing compared to being

the city’s best host.”

Nicholas beamed and bounced in place. “Hostess; get it right. Ah, here he is.” He reached

out to open the door to the lovely, six-foot-four-inch man who stood on the landing wearing a

devilish grin. “Well, look how grown up you are.” Nicholas’s eyes swept the younger man from

black hair to black loafers, then back up again to settle on the mysterious, sensual, dark eyes.

“Very grown up.”

“Stop violating the boy, and put your eyes back in their sockets,” Paul whispered while

reaching to shake hands with Lucca.

Lucca blushed and accepted Paul’s hand. “It has something to do with all the food in

Italy. How are you, Nicholas?”

Nicholas shrugged his shoulder and dipped his head. He smiled and grabbed Lucca into

his arms. “Pish, no handshakes allowed. Only hugs accepted.”

Paul stepped back and laughed. “Of course, this is just so he can feel those muscles. He’ll

never change, the little flirt.”

Lucca laughed and gathered them into his arms. “I’ve missed the hell out of you both. It’s

been too long.”

“Italy’s been kind to you,” Nicholas said, giving the younger man a final hug before

settling back into his lover’s arms.

Lucca stood in the foyer and glanced around. “I don’t know about that, but I do know

you’ve added on to this place. I don’t remember it being so open.”

“Oh, we’re so incredibly rude. Please, Lucca, come in.”

Lucca stepped into the foyer and couldn’t help but appreciate the twenty-foot pan

ceilings, the carved moldings, the imported crystal chandelier, and the hand carved banister

running up the curved staircase. The hardwood floors glowed and mirrored the beautiful prisms

of color the stained glass windows threw in the sunlight. Their home truly was a showplace. He

and Nicholas walked together and followed Paul into the study, Lucca continuing to appreciate

the architectural details along the way.

When they reached the arched doorway of the study, Lucca paused to take it all in.

“Greek?”

“That it is. Nicholas decided it would be fun to decorate each room, including the four

bathrooms, in different themes, different cultures and the like.”

Lucca carefully took in his surroundings, admiring the ambiance, extravagant

furnishings, and appreciating each design element. He nodded in approval. “Very classy,

Nicholas. Interesting artwork you have there,” he said, pointing to the painting of Olympieion

over the fireplace. “Who are the gods in the portrait?”

Nicholas beamed at Paul with a triumphant smile. “It’s nice to see someone, besides the

artist and I, appreciates that one. That, my dear boy, is a portrait of Zeus and Prometheus—

before Prometheus stole fire from Zeus, of course. Imagine that scene really taking place.” Yes,

he could see Zeus and Prometheus in each other’s arms, both naked as the day they were born,

the impressive muscles and long hair, the bright eyes, and firm dicks. “My heroes, the gods of

Greece.”

Lucca bit his lower lip and blushed. “Well hung, Nicholas.”

The man winked and broke into a cheeky grin. “Right, they’re very well hung indeed.”

With drinks in hand, Nicholas and Paul gave Lucca the grand tour of their home, ending

on the landing outside the master bedroom where the floor to ceiling windows framed a

breathtaking view of the city.

“Well, Nicholas, you’ve done a hell of a job with the place. It’s all so lovely.”

Again, Nicholas smiled widely and bounced in place, and Paul took his hand to steady

him.

“He’s very talented when it comes to shopping online and clicking the buy here icon,

aren’t you, my dear?”

A knock at the door prevented Nicholas from answering. “Excuse me, sirs, dinner is

ready and on the table.”

Paul turned to thank Mario and placed his hand on Lucca’s shoulder, guiding him in the

direction of the formal dining room. “Lead the way, love,” he said to Nicholas.

“Yes, let’s hurry. I had Mario make us something special, and I detest cold food.”

Nicholas sauntered off, muttering something about placing the food on the table before they had

been seated.

Paul laughed and watched his lover disappear around the corner. “No worries, Lucca,”

Paul said, grinning mischievously, “Mario did no such thing; it’s simply a device we use to get

Nicholas to the table without a lot of fuss and distraction.”

Lucca grinned and followed Paul’s lead out of the room. “Smart man.”

They arrived moments after Nicholas, chuckling at the way he fretted over Mario’s fib.

Nicholas spun around in exasperation with his hands on his hips. “That man! I fall for his ‘dinner

is ready and on the table’ line every time. Please, do have a seat Lucca. I hope you like lamb.

Mario makes a lamb dish in a creamy orange sauce that will absolutely melt in your mouth.”

Lucca seated himself at the twelve person table and immediately took note of its design.

“This pattern is very interesting, really intricate,” Lucca said, tracing the hand carved

designs on the edge of the table. “African Blackwood?” he asked, looking over at Nicholas.

“I do love a man who knows his stuff. We picked this out last year while on vacation. I

fell in love with it the moment my hazel eyes spotted it.”

“Yes, so much so, he sprawled himself on top of it to discourage other customers in the

shop from getting too close. When that didn’t work, he licked it, and in front of the shop’s

owner, no less. Needless to say, it was as good as ours.”

Lucca cracked up at the mental picture and leaned against the high backed, leather chair.

“Tell me, was the shipping horrendous?” He grinned when Nicholas paled.

Paul returned Lucca’s grin and continued, “Oh yes, he went from as hard as the table

here, to baby soft in seconds. Damn shipping cost me my first child.”

“Oh, posh! It did not,” Nicholas said with a pout.

“Well, maybe that is a bit of an exaggeration,” Paul admitted, “but the shipping was out

of this world. I considered moving to Africa just to save myself the exorbitant fee.”

“I bet. It is very lovely, though. So, tell me gentlemen, how can I help you today?”

“I suppose we should get down to business. Hon, have Mario bring our salads and some

fresh drinks, and we’ll begin,” Paul said, placing his napkin in his lap.

*****

Vowing to swear off food for at least a week, Lucca followed Paul and Nicholas into the

sitting room. The lamb, as Nicholas had predicted, was to die for. Nicholas sat on Paul’s lap, his

favorite spot, or so Lucca guessed, and settled back with a satisfied moan.

“I hope you saved room for dessert, hotness. In your honor, I had fresh cannoli made.”

Lucca looked at Nicholas and grinned. “I’ll make room.”

“I love to lick the sweet custard right out of the shell.” Nicholas looked to his man and

gave him a sheepish grin. “Not nearly as much as I like to lick…”

Paul silenced him with a kiss. Lucca looked away out of respect and to give them a

moment of privacy. It was good to see that love did exist for some—for him, maybe not so

much. There were too many men to pick from and to think about settling down with just one?

No, that wouldn’t happen anytime too soon. Love was for his parents, for Nicholas and Paul, but

not for him.

“Sorry, Lucca, my husband here forgets his manners,” Nicholas said, patting Paul’s knee.

“No, no, that’s fine. How many years has it been for the two of you?”

“We’ve been together since the word gay was used to refer to happy feelings,” Nicholas

answered with pride. Lucca could certainly respect that but simply couldn’t conceive of it for

himself.

“Dad!”

An echo of, “in here,” answered and Lucca grinned. With smiles on their faces, both Paul

and Nicholas turned toward the arched opening. He followed their leads and saw two teens come

sliding to a stop in the archway. They were giggling and carrying on like they’d been up to no

good.

“Son, the two of you just left the pool?”

The boy with the big, green eyes, framed by impossibly long, dark lashes, stared at Lucca

and merely nodded his head. His father’s next question fell on deaf ears. Lucca himself only

heard something about water and feet, but his mind was otherwise entirely unfocused on the

conversation. He was awe struck by the boldly adorable imp whose hungry eyes were busy

devouring him from head to toe; so much so that Lucca felt like a condemned man’s last meal.

Lucca hid his smile behind his hand, afraid to break the link he felt with the boy. He was

looking at a perfect picture of beauty, all of Nicholas’s Greek gods rolled into one. High

cheekbones and perfectly arched brows framed those stunning green eyes. The boy’s full lips

were parted slightly, his nose was perfectly proportioned, and his chin and jaw held the promise

of the strength that age would bring. The sun seemed to have kissed the boy’s skin, leaving him

with a glowing complexion that fell away to a creamy pale color where his swimming trunks had

drifted low on his hips. Lucca’s wandering eyes traveled slowly down the boy’s lean body,

stopping for several long seconds at the bulge in those shorts, trying to get a clear mental picture

of what was hidden there, imagining those long, lean legs wrapped around his waist…

“Oh, man,” Lucca said under his breath while mentally slapping himself, “he’s a damn

kid for God’s sake.” He quickly regained his composure and forced his eyes to continue on with

their journey. He had to stifle a laugh when he noticed the puddle of water that dripped from the

boy’s bright red trunks and onto the marble floor beneath his feet. His eyes moved up and took in

the wet mop of wheat colored hair currently dripping and weaving trails of water down the boy’s

smooth chest, his rock hard stomach, and onto the waistband of his trunks. With each drop that

fell, Lucca found himself following those trails with his eyes until he heard someone giggling.

He cleared his throat and took a sip of his brandy.

“Lucca, this gangly flirt is our son, Christian. Christian, this young man’s name is Lucca

Renaldo; you met him many years ago, but you couldn’t have been more than six at the time.

He’s Pat and Rick’s son, and he’s also the man who will be designing our new home and office

in Italy,” Paul said.

Christian’s lovely green eyes danced while his smile grew to show perfect white teeth.

He damn near glided when he walked over to shake Lucca’s hand, water trailing behind him.

“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Lucca Renaldo.” Christian held onto his warm hand and leaned over

to say, “Has anyone ever told you that you’d look way better if you’d let your hair grow long?”

“Christian St. James Davenport!” two sets of fatherly voices rang out. Nicholas gasped

and tried to get to his feet but ended up tripping over Paul’s size twelves and landing back in his

lap.

Christian’s smile grew wider, and his eyes sparkled as he glanced at his fathers’ shocked

faces. His dimples nearly melted Lucca’s resolve right then and there.

Christian giggled and nibbled on his lower lip. Turning back to face Lucca, he said, “I

apologize. That was out of line. Still, you are incredibly hot.” He laid his hand on Lucca’s and

winked. “Very hot.”

Lucca drew a sharp breath at the shock of electricity the touch created. The kid was damn

near vibrating in place, and he pulled his hand back, remembering how old this boy was.

“You’ll have to excuse my boyfriend. It’s obvious he did not come equipped with a shut

off valve.”

Lucca tried to ignore the statement that had dripped heavily with both possession and

sarcasm, but something about the tone of it triggered his instincts. He slowly raised his dark eyes

and looked over at the boy he hadn’t noticed standing there with the green eyed imp. Funny he

hadn’t noticed him before this. His military haircut, his round, brown eyes, his small, perfectly

shaped nose, all paled in comparison to the boy he damn near stood on top of. For some strange

reason, Lucca found himself sizing the kid up and shoved the ridiculous thoughts aside. He had

no reason whatsoever to feel this way over a teen. “He’s excused. And you are?”

“Dwight Lee Youngman,” the taller boy said, holding his hand out.

Lucca remained seated but extended his hand out of courtesy. He had no desire to

communicate further with the insolent boy. Something about the kid raised the hairs on the back

of Lucca’s neck; he seemed unusually aggressive and inordinately possessive of Christian. He

felt Dwight’s tight grip for what it was, so he applied a tighter hold until the boy loosened his

grasp. When he winced, Lucca grinned and released the sweaty hand. “You certainly are,” he

mumbled under his breath. “Good to meet you,” he said louder. Lucca’s eyes darted back to the

boy with the pretty green ones instead.

Dwight reached out and grabbed Christian’s thin wrist. “Please excuse us. We’ll get out

of your hair now.” He looked at Paul and Nicholas. “I tried to tell him you were busy, but you

know how he is.” He grabbed Christian’s wrist tighter and yanked him away from Lucca.

Lucca snickered when the younger man’s painted on smile slipped and his eyes

narrowed. “We’ll just let you men get back to your meeting. Come along, Christian, we need to

shower before we leave.”

“Leave?” Paul repeated, looking at his son.

“Yes, sir, we’re going to A-Mountain to celebrate the end of sophomore year. Christian is

officially a junior.”

“Oh! I do love a party,” Nicholas said excitedly as he jumped off Paul’s lap for the

second time. “I’ll be ready to go in thirty minutes.”

“You’re attending?” Dwight squeaked.

Lucca looked at the shell shocked boy and grinned.

“Of course I’m going. Someone needs to chaperone my son. I imagine there will be an

assortment of interesting, illegal drugs and alcohol available to everyone.”

Paul stood up and placed his hand on his lover’s shoulder. “I guess we’d better get ready,

then.”

Dwight paled and asked in a disenchanted voice, “You’re going too?”

“Sure I am. I mean, with the temptations my sweet husband has just pointed out, I’ll need

to chaperone him while he chaperones our son. Lucca? Perhaps you’d like to attend this,” he

said, grinning at Nicholas with a spark in his eye, “party to celebrate the upcoming junior class.”

Lucca kept his smile hidden, but he had no control over the humor that must have shown

in his eyes. “Well, it’s been at least seven years since I’ve had the opportunity to attend a party

like this.” He looked at Christian, who was nibbling on his lower lip and smiling. “I do believe

it’s too good an invitation to pass up.”

“But the party’s for…”

“We’ll just be a few,” Nicholas said, cutting the young man off. He took Paul’s hand and

winked at them before dragging his husband behind him.

“Christian, do something! They’re too,” Dwight looked around at the others and back to

Christian before he continued, “old.”

A gasp tore Lucca’s gaze away from the panicking Dwight and settled it on Nicholas,

who had stopped his retreat. Nicholas turned with an open mouth to Dwight and said, “Old? Oh,

nonsense. I’ll have you know, young man, that I’m very capable of keeping up with the likes of

you. Just ask Paul. Why, he just mentioned this morning that I haven’t lost my…”

Nicholas’s speech was cut short by his lover’s hand over his jabbering mouth. “Yeah,

that’s probably too much info, baby.”

Lucca kept his eyes on Christian and liked the idea that it was a mutual decision. “You’re

sixteen now, aren’t you, Christian?” The gorgeous boy nodded.

“How about you?” he asked.

“He’s too old for you. But if you did the math, you’d know he’s twenty-three. Am I right,

Mr. Renaldo?”

Lucca gave Dwight a dismissive nod and stood up; his imposing frame towered over the

teens. He grinned because they both had to tilt their heads to look up at him. “Very perceptive,

aren’t you?”

The kid’s sarcastic look did not escape him, and while he really wanted to slap the look

off the condescending little shit’s face, he stuck to the old saying, grin and bear it.

“Yes, well I am a straight-A honor student. I’m sure to be class valedictorian this coming

year, as I am officially a senior. Isn’t that correct, Christian?”

Lucca found himself thinking thoughts he had no business thinking, not the least of

which included: pompous jackass, arrogant little prick, and this kid cannot be for real. He gave

himself a harsh mental shake.

Christian nodded and licked his lips. “He is smart.” He looked to his fathers. “Perhaps

we’ll just stay home. I’m not really in the mood for a party tonight anyway.”

Lucca chuckled when the look on Dwight’s face changed from assured to shocked in the

space of a nanosecond.

“Christian! We planned this weeks ago. Why, all of a sudden, are you changing your

mind? We have our friends waiting and everything. You know this is the night I’m going to

claim you.”

Lucca’s eyes gaped in shock, and he couldn’t help but stare at Dwight and Christian. He

had no damn idea why his heart decided to skip a few beats just then or why his ears grew hot,

but they did, and he didn’t like it one bit. He looked at Christian, who was blushing and clearly

distressed. The young boy giggled and lowered his head, his messy hair hiding his lovely

features.

“What?” a duo of voices shouted out in disbelief laced with anger. At his fathers’ gasps,

Christian peeked sheepishly through strands of drying hair. “Claim you?” they rang out. Paul

glared at Dwight and Nicholas at Christian.

“Oh no. No. No! No son of mine will be,” Nicholas started with his hands splayed over

his heart, “claimed! Christian, go to your room right this very instant. Dwight, Paul will show

you out. Claim indeed. What the hell is he, a vampire? Let’s go, son.” He took his son’s hand

and gently pulled him through the archway, all the while mumbling something about claiming

and Christian not being a piece of luggage or some random item on layaway.

Lucca cleared his throat and straightened his tie. This certainly was a very interesting

evening, the best in ages. “Well, uh, I think that’s my cue. Paul, I’ll get a proposal put together

and get with you later this week on the projects. Dwight, I’d be happy to walk you out.” He

turned in the direction that Nicholas had dragged the green eyed imp and smiled, raising his

voice slightly to be heard, “It was my pleasure to meet you again, Christian. Have a good

evening.”

Christian looked back over his shoulder, licked his lips, and nodded. “I’ll see you soon,

Mr. Renaldo. I do believe we’ll be in Italy around the same time.”

“Son, say your goodbyes,” Paul’s voice rang out, “straight away.”

“Yes, sir,” Christian replied as he turned vaguely in Dwight’s direction, clearly

distracted. “Have a good evening, Dwight. I’ll…”

Nicholas grabbed his son’s arm and continued tugging him along in all haste. All they

could hear was Christian giggling.

“See you soon, Paul,” Lucca said, chuckling. “Dwight, you coming?”

“This just isn’t right. We had plans. We’ve been looking forward to this for ages. He

promised to be mine. Christian is mine.”

“Dwight, my son is sixteen years old, not twenty-six. He has no business even thinking

about being claimed, whatever the hell that means these days. I think that some time apart will

do you both some good.”

Lucca put his hand on Dwight’s tight shoulder. “We should leave these gentlemen to

their son.”

“Don’t you touch me!” Dwight swung around, his hands fisted at his side, his eyes no

longer young and innocent. He looked back to Paul. “Christian is mine. He’s going to promise

himself to me. I will not allow the three of you to come between us! You can’t tear us apart; that

boy is mine!”

Paul shook his head and stood his ground but kept his cool. “If it’s as you say, Dwight,

then surely some time apart will not hurt. My son is the most important person in my life, aside

from my husband, and we will see that he has every opportunity to live his life as it should be

lived. We will see him happy, no matter the cost. He’s just a boy; he hasn’t had a chance to know

what life is, and having a boyfriend right now just doesn’t fit into the plan. Now, please forgive

me, but I have some personal family business to attend to. Lucca, I’ll hear from you in a few

days?”

Lucca nodded. “I’ll call you. Good evening, Paul, and thank you for a rather interesting

afternoon.” He smiled, grabbed Dwight’s arm, and forcibly led him from the house without a

backward glance. He concealed the laughter that threatened to erupt and silently cheered his

fathers’ friends on. He’d found himself wanting to clap at the end of Paul’s speech. He certainly

did understand Dwight’s obsession with young Christian; the kid was pure heaven on earth. The

enticing imp had definitely captured his interest. Dammit! He most definitely should not be

lusting after this boy. He was way too young for one thing, and secondly, he was his fathers’

friends’ son. “Of all the luck,” he mumbled as he closed the door behind him.

Once they were in the circular drive, Dwight shook himself free from Lucca’s grip. With

fire in his eyes and his fists bunched at his sides, he turned to face the older man. “He’s mine! No

matter what any of you say or do, that boy is mine. He will choose me. You just keep away from

him!”

Lucca kept a grin plastered on his face. He’d like nothing more than to slap the shit out of

this kid, but what would that prove? That he was as jealous and immature as Dwight?

“Have you ever thought about counseling? Really, kid, this is not healthy. Have a good

evening, young sir,” he said as he turned toward his SUV. He wanted to laugh out loud but bit

the inside of his cheek instead. The kid looked like a rabid dog, for God’s sake.

“Fuck you! I saw the way you were looking at him in there. You’re a fucking perv! He’s

too young for you, you Italian scum.”

Lucca stopped dead in his tracks, jaws clenching and muscles bunching in his tight

shoulders. He refused to give the boy the satisfaction of a fight, but that didn’t mean he would

ignore an insult either. Slowly he turned around, glaring at the boy, trying very hard to erase the

mental image of himself pummeling the kid’s punk ass into the pavers. He noticed Dwight

swallow hard and take a small step back, and that was all the satisfaction Lucca needed.

“Good night, Dwight Lee Youngman. You certainly do know how to make an interesting

first impression.”

Dwight stared at him for several moments before turning toward his blue Jeep Cherokee.

“I’ll kill anyone who gets in my way!” he yelled as he revved the engine. He then slammed the

car door so hard that Lucca was afraid the windows might shatter.

Lucca stood next to his Escalade and wondered at the prickling shiver that had just run

down his spine. As a child, he’d often seen his nonna make a hand gesture that, according to

Italian superstition, was supposed to ward off evil spirits. He suddenly had an absurd urge to

make that gesture himself. He shook his head and watched Dwight tear out of the driveway.

“Yep, very interesting indeed.”

Chapter One

“Lucca! Lucca, where are you?”

Lucca felt that familiar stirring in his stomach and his heart at the sound of that lovely,

animated voice. He could just picture his lover running through the front door, leaving it wide

open behind him. Thank goodness their nearest neighbor was more than an acre away with as

loud as the brat was yelling for him.

“Out back, baby!” Lucca sat up as he laid the magazine he had been reading on the table

beside him.

Not five seconds later, he was being mauled alive by a blur of honey-blonde curls while

long legs and lean muscled arms wrapped themselves around him. All he had the chance to do

was gasp and hope like hell the chair held itself upright.

“I’ve missed you too, sweetheart,” Lucca said between the playful kisses being planted

all over his freshly shaven face.

“They said yes!”

Lucca’s heart stopped for a mere second when the chair rocked back a bit, and he reached

out and grabbed the table to steady them. He didn’t want to end up flipping into the pool,

unconscious. His green eyed imp took no notice, though; he continued to bounce around and kiss

him between fits of giggles. Realization hit him. Yes. They said yes?

“What? Sweetheart, did you do what I think you did?”

Those bright green eyes peeked up at him through strands of wild hair, followed by a

mischievous grin.

“I did,” he said proudly. “They said yes.”

“Yes?” Lucca repeated the word as his boy slowly fell to his knees.

“They’re as excited as I am. Well, maybe more so, but there’s just one stipulation…”

Christian’s voice trailed off, his attention clearly focused on other matters now.

Lucca unleashed a low moan as magic hands fluttered against the waistband of his shorts,

pulling them down to reveal a hardening cock. It never ceased to amaze him how this boy was

able to make him forget speech and thought processes. Gently, he reached out and ran his fingers

through those silky curls, applying a small amount of pressure, guiding his lover’s mouth right

where he wanted it. Not that the boy needed guidance. He knew exactly what to do and just how

to do it.

“Damn, baby! That’s feeling good.” His stomach quivered; his dick was as hard as steel

already, and then the boy swallowed him whole! “Jesus, Christian!”

His boy certainly had some good news, but damned if he knew or, for that matter, cared

what it was just at the moment. Those lips and mouth felt too good around his dick and that

tongue! The way the boy swirled that wicked tongue around the head of his cock pushed Lucca

to the edge of control. He loved to look at his boy on his knees, his prick buried in that hot

mouth.

Christian pulled back, licking the slit and humming his approval. “I love the way you

taste.”

Lucca’s eyes rolled up in sheer bliss. “Either continue to taste, or I’m going to bend your

sweet little ass right over that table and fuck you until you can’t walk.” He tried to make it a

threat but laughed when Christian bent himself over the table, spreading his long legs as far as

they would go.

“When did you get naked?” Lucca asked, standing to move behind his boy and running

his hands over smooth, creamy skin.

“Lucca, has anyone ever told you that you talk too much? Ouch!”

Lucca leaned down and licked the red spot on his boy’s lovely bottom. “Hand me the

lube, baby.”

Christian reached across to the canister they kept on the table for occasions such as this.

He dug around for a few seconds and grinned in triumph as he held the tube out for him.

Lucca lightly nipped his neck and held his hand out. “Open it and pour some out onto my

hand.”

Christian gasped when he felt Lucca’s long fingers smooth along the crease of his ass. He

massaged the cool gel around the puckered hole, the entrance greedy to be satisfied just like its

owner. Lucca slowed his pursuit; he wanted to draw this out, take the time to prime his boy’s

body for what would come next. Hurting Christian was the furthest thing from his mind, so he

continued to stroke and tease the opening, knowing the friction and slight pressure he was

applying was the cause of Christian’s trembling. Lucca loved the way his boy’s body openly

responded to his touch. Gently, he pushed his index finger into that tight, warm passage and

explored a bit, not wanting to rush but wanting in at the same time. He probed and played,

pulling his finger back and leaving just the tip inside. Christian stuck his ass out, seeking more of

Lucca’s attention.

“More, Lucca, more. Oh! It feels so damn good.”

“Two, baby,” he murmured into his ear. “Damn, you’re so tight.” Lucca took his time,

squeezing his own dick a few times until the need to come died down. He buried two fingers

inside his lovely boy’s ass and reached around to hold Christian’s weeping dick. “This is mine.

Never forget that, boy.”

Christian moaned and rocked himself back onto Lucca’s fingers as they continued to

stretch the hot hole. “Yours Lucca,” he panted in ecstasy. His head thrashed from side to side the

deeper Lucca went.

He hit that sweet spot inside his boy’s body and lingered there, driving him wild, filling

him with a need only Lucca could satisfy. He chuckled when Christian shivered and moaned

loudly enough to bring their housekeeper running. “Shh… easy, baby. We’re not that alone.”

“Then do something. Oh shit, I need you inside me,” his imp groaned.

“You’re not ready. Here’s three, baby.” He added more gel to his fingers and pushed

them inside that tight, lithe body. “That’s it. Relax and feel. I’ve got you.” Lucca hit Christian’s

prostate again and again, damn near losing his own control while watching his lover hump his

fingers. He stretched the entrance a bit more before pulling his fingers free. “I love you, imp,” he

said, rubbing the lube over his dick.

“Jesus, Lucca, if you don’t hurry up, I’m gonna come without you,” Christian frantically

muttered between breaths. “I need you.”

Lucca grinned as he positioned his hard, dripping dick against that inviting hole. “You’ve

got me. Forever,” he said, pushing through the outer ring of muscle. His head swam in ecstasy as

the tightness and warmth surrounded him. He took a deep breath to keep from rutting on his boy

like a wild man. His balls ached, his dick ached, and all they wanted was release. He kissed

Christian’s neck and thrust in, filling his imp with all he had.

“Mmm, yeah! Oh, more! I need more!”

“Yeah? I got more, you stingy brat,” Lucca answered, pumping harder and faster into his

lover’s body. A primal feeling from some place deep inside stirred and made its way to the

surface, bringing with it a fresh wave of love so intense that he never wanted it to stop. He

rocked his hips, hitting Christian’s spot with every thrust. The tingling in his balls warned him of

the coming orgasm, but he held back. “Come on, imp. Come fly with me.”

“Yeah…! Oh shit, Lucca…yes!” Christian screamed as he let go of his own orgasm.

Lucca pumped a few more times before allowing himself to find that release, and when

he did, he shouted as loudly as his boy had. Panting over his lover’s sweaty back, he smiled and

kissed the top of his head.

“I loved you before I knew you,” Christian said as Lucca gently pulled out of him.

Lucca smiled and pulled his imp into his arms, cradling him against his chest. “I know,

baby, me too. Let’s relax a bit, huh?”

Christian snuggled against Lucca’s body, wrapped his arms around his neck, and let out a

contented sigh. “They said yes.”

Lucca grinned and kissed the top of his lover’s head. “I’m sure you left them very little

choice. So, are you going to tell me what they said yes to?” Lucca teased.

“Moving in with you, of course,” Christian said, sitting up and licking his lips. “Well,

seeing as how I’m here all the time anyway, it only makes sense. I called the movers, and they’re

going to move all my stuff over this coming Wednesday.”

Lucca nodded. “I’ll have Ms. Maye ready for them.”

Christian looked up at him, worry written all over his beautiful face. “What’s wrong?

Isn’t this what you wanted for us to do?”

Lucca opened his eyes when he heard the uncertainty in his boy’s voice. “What? Oh,

sweetheart, no, I mean, yes. Yes, I want you to live with me forever. I just have a lot on my

mind. I’m thrilled your dads are willing to finally let you move out.”

Christian’s green eyes sparkled, and he snuggled back into Lucca’s open arms. “Right? I

mean, I’m going to be twenty-one next month. Most kids move out of their parents’ house when

they turn eighteen.”

“You’re not most kids, Christian. Your fathers are well known men. They draw attention

to themselves no matter where they are, and to top it off, they have more money than God. You,

my little imp, would be a perfect victim for some deranged fuck out there looking for a fast

buck.”

“I know, I know; I’ve heard that my whole life. Like it’s going to be any different with

you? You have as much as they do, more actually. Lucca, I want to run through the jungle with

the wind in my hair and the sand at my feet.”

“Savage Garden,” Lucca said, grinning.

“I’m serious, Lucca. I’ve been hovered over my whole life. I can’t trust anyone. I’m not

supposed to take a person at his word simply because his word is a lie, or I always expect it to be

one. Trust is something I have very little of. I can never relax and just let go. I just want to know

what it’s like to be free.”

Lucca understood Christian’s feelings all too well because he’d been raised in the same

environment, guarded by overprotective parents who, due to their success and wealth, were more

private and distrusting. They were constantly looking over their shoulders. Anyone and everyone

was, or could be, a threat. His parents even went as far as hiring body guards to watch him the

whole time he’d attended school, from the first grade until he graduated from college. Even

living out of the country proved to be dangerous.

When Lucca moved out of his parents’ house at eighteen, he’d lived on the edge, often

times scaring the hell out of them when he went without calling as often as twice a day. As an

adult, he preferred to live as anyone else. If he were to meet death due to the ignorance of others,

so be it. Wild was a term used to describe him to a T, but now that he had Christian in his life, he

understood the need to protect those he loved. Without Christian’s knowledge, Lucca had hired a

couple of men to watch his imp while he was out and away from him. One thing had become

crystal clear; he would never consider playing it fast and loose where his boy’s safety was

concerned.

Life for Christian had been pretty much the same, except that Paul and Nicholas had had

a scare with their son when he was four. They’d hired a team of contractors to build him a fort in

the yard and add a new room on to the house. While everyone was busy with the plans and

preparations, a hired hand was able to get past the security inside the home and take Christian out

of his room, down the three flights of stairs, and out the front door without being seen. The

worker, who was now in prison and would be for the rest of his natural life, had taken the child

to the train depot and sold him for a measly five hundred dollars. The couple, who’d bought him

in Tucson, had gotten as far as Washington before they were apprehended five days later.

When Christian was found, he was dirty, hungry, and scared. He’d stopped talking, had

nightmares, and had wet his pants for almost a year after he’d been rescued. Months and months

of therapy and the love of his fathers worked their magic, and one night, out of the blue,

Christian began talking again. Overnight the nightmares had stopped, along with the bedwetting.

Lucca held Christian tighter, remembering how Nicholas had told the story. Since that

night, they hadn’t been able to get the boy to shut up for love or money; he was once again

exuberant, confidant, and loving. His parents, however, were beside themselves with fear, and

they, too, had hired bodyguards to look after their son. They’d had their whole house wired with

security cameras and alarms, sparing no expense where their son’s life was concerned. Because

Christian grew up being followed by people he never saw, it was as natural as breathing to him;

however, as of late, it had become a thorn in his side. He wanted to be like everyone else and not

have to worry about whether or not his bodyguards were where they were supposed to be.

Being tailed by them in college had been hard. They’d sat in on his lectures with him or

had stood in the hallways watching and waiting for him to reappear. He’d ignored them,

especially when his friends were around. He didn’t want to have to explain to them why he was

being followed around like the President’s kid. It wasn’t the kid’s fault his parents’ ideas had

turned them into billionaires. Who would have thought the idea for a simple flag would lead to

an idea for a magazine that would eventually lead to an entire media empire?

“I’m horny,” Christian whispered in his lover’s ear. “I wanna go upstairs and suck you

off until you scream; then I want you to tie me to the bed and fuck me like there’s no tomorrow.”

Oh, that image was enough to make Lucca’s dick wake up and beg for permission.

“Baby, that mouth…”

Christian looked at him wickedly and ran his tongue over his lips. “I wanna take you

deep, lover, and then we can shower and go see my parents.”

Lucca gave his dick a mental swat; he was not going to walk through the house with it

leading the way and have Ms. Maye standing there. “Boy, shoosh. Ms. Maye is still here, and the

only way in is through her kitchen.”

“She wasn’t in there a bit ago. Come on, I wanna play. Just picture me lying on the bed

naked and tied up, your dick down my throat, and your…”

Lucca silenced him with a deep, breathtaking kiss. He gathered his green eyed brat into

his arms, stood up, and made his way to their room. Never let it be said that he didn’t give his

boy what he wanted.

Chapter Two

“It’s my birthday! Get up! Get up! It’s official.”

Lucca was able to hide his smile from the over-energized body that just so happened to

be jumping all over the king sized bed. “It’s too early to be anyone’s birthday. Go back to sleep,”

he said into his pillow.

“Oh no, the sun is peaking over the Rincon’s already, and if you don’t get up, we’ll miss

it. Then we’ll miss my birthday.”

Lucca chuckled. He could just imagine the pout on his lover’s full, heart shaped lips.

“The only way we’d miss your birthday is if we were dead or in a coma, and as loud as you are,

I’m sure you’d wake both the dead and those in a coma.”

“Oh, so not right!”

Lucca laughed when the pillow he was expecting was lobbed at him. Laughing, he rolled

over with a pillow in hand and swung. “Pillow war you want, pillow war you got, brat.” Lucca

swung it again at his lover, knocking him onto his back in a fit of giggles. Christian was naked as

a jaybird to boot. Lucca pinned his brat on his back, his knees holding the wild arms at his sides.

“Just think, baby, I get to spank that lovely, white ass twenty-one times today.” He leaned

forward with a shit eating grin and kissed that perky nose.

“You wouldn’t,” Christian gasped.

Lucca’s deep laugh sent shivers all over his boy’s body. “Maybe I’ll do it like they do

here in the west—twenty-one swats while you’re bent over wearing a pair of assless, leather

chaps.”

Christian wiggled around under him, his big, green eyes, half covered by his hair, were

wide open in shock. “Lucca!”

Lucca grinned and licked the side of his lover’s graceful neck, playfully nipping along

the way. “Naked, just like you are now.”

“That would leave a mark. Nobody could love me with marks.”

“I would.” He stopped ravishing his lovely boy and looked down into those wicked,

innocent eyes. “I’ll love you forever, marked or not. You’re mine, boy.”

Those gentle eyes softened, and those lips parted just enough for Lucca to taste that eager

mouth. His tongue played with those pretty lips before making its way inside to play with

Christian’s wet, hot, and very willing tongue. He fought for control and grinned when Christian

hummed his approval, kissing him until they both panted for air.

“Promise?”

“I don’t make empty promises. I fell in love with you the first day I saw you. I promised

myself that I’d do whatever I had to do to claim you as mine. Christian, you are the love of my

life, a forever love.” He gently wiped the tears away from his boy’s eyes and kissed his forehead.

“I love you more than life itself,” Christian replied. “Now I know how my fathers feel.

When I was a kid, I’d watch them together and would just smile and feel so happy inside. I

counted myself so lucky that they loved me too, and they’re so right for each other. That’s what

we have, that deep powerful love, a soul deep love.

“I knew I’d have you the second I saw you sitting in the study that night. I remember

what I felt, looking into your dark eyes. After you’d left, I told my fathers that you were my

future. Then for those two years in Italy, when I’d see you at the sites working on the house and

office, I’d melt.”

Lucca ran his fingers through Christian’s hair. “Melt? You didn’t appear melted to me. In

fact, I remember how often you’d run around in those tiny little swim trunks with your

boyfriends. Damn if I didn’t have to rush home and take a cold shower every day, you wicked

brat.”

Christian fluttered his long eyelashes and grinned. “Oh, but they weren’t my boyfriends. I

never even kissed one of them; I just used them to make you jealous. You never even looked at

me like you wanted me, so I had to do something to get your attention and show you that if you

didn’t hurry up and claim me, someone else would.”

Lucca swiped Christian’s hair out of his eyes and kissed the tip of his nose again. “You

were too young back then. Your fathers would have killed me, but I knew as soon as you turned

eighteen, I would do anything to make you mine. Whatever you did back then, worked.”

“Do you remember my eighteenth birthday?”

Lucca smiled and rubbed the small of Christian’s back. “Oh yeah. Very well. That was

the day your parents’ house was completed and they threw you a huge party, a three day one if I

remember correctly.”

“Mmm, it was amazing, especially the part when you asked me to dance. I was so scared

that I would trip and make a fool out of us, but the way you held me against your body, I just

knew it was okay to trust you and to let go. We flowed together, you and I.”

“We still do, baby.”

“Better now. Every day it gets better, and now I live here full time. I can still hear my

dads’ excitement when you asked permission to date me. I overheard them talking in their study

that night. Both of them were like schoolboys, going on and on about their wishes coming true,

about how you’d be good for me and keep me safe and happy. I swear they were moments away

from planning my wedding.”

“Would you?”

Christian looked up at him confused. “Would I what?”

Lucca grinned. “Nothing.”

He remembered that night all too well. When he’d seen Christian dancing with yet

another cute boy at the party, he’d found himself insanely jealous. He couldn’t watch Christian

anymore; he couldn’t be around him every day knowing he wasn’t allowed to touch the kid. It

had been getting harder and harder to do. He’d finally come to the painful decision to leave Italy

the next day to get away from him. He had fallen so in love with Christian that it was pure

torture to be in the same country with him. He’d turned away from the makeshift dance floor on

the beach to take a breath, but his eyes were inevitably drawn back to the object of his deepest

desires.

Hell, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Christian’s five-foot-ten-inch frame long

enough to take a decent breath. In two years, he’d grown two inches; his honey-blonde hair fell

to his shoulders in waves, his green eyes were even greener, if that was possible. The kid was

beautiful, and his long, graceful legs, washboard stomach, and tight, round ass had damn near

brought Lucca to his knees in want and need. It had felt entirely inappropriate at the time. He’d

had no intention of showing the slightest disrespect to the boy or to his parents, yet he couldn’t

control it. His damn heart had gone and fallen in love with Christian, and the only answer had

been for Lucca to leave first thing the following morning.

The next thing he knew, he was being led inside the house, was being handed a small

glass of something very strong, and was instructed to drink it in one swallow. Nicholas, the

romantic, had noticed Lucca’s distress. He’d calmly pulled Lucca aside and told him, in no

uncertain terms, to pursue his son.

Lucca didn’t need to be told twice and had wasted no time; he ran from the house and had

headed straight to the yard. He took a hurried look around, hoping like hell Christian would feel

the same way after all the time he had spent pushing the kid away. He’d found him dancing with

yet another pretty boy who had his hands all over Christian’s lovely body. He’d walked with

purpose, tapping the boy on the shoulder and saying, “My turn.”

“Do you remember what I said when you finally asked me to dance?”

Lucca felt his heart warm and nodded.

“I said, ‘It’s about fucking time, you Italian god.’”

“What a mouth,” Lucca replied.

“And this mouth makes you very happy.”

Christian kissed Lucca’s chest, spent time nibbling and licking his nipples until they were

rock hard, then licked his way down to his bellybutton.

“It does. But it’s your birthday, not mine, so…” Lucca pulled his boy back up and laid

him on his back; he carefully brought each of his wrists up to the leather cuffs they kept on the

headboard and restrained his lover. “It’s all about feeling, imp, so close your eyes and feel.”

He took Christian’s cock in his hand, lifting it as he gently fondled his balls with the

other. Christian moaned, his body trembling. Lucca admired the length he held in his hand,

moving his thumb over the head and smearing the drops of Christian’s essence, which he longed

to taste, all over the pretty dick he held. He lowered his head to lick at the tip of Christian’s

throbbing muscle. He savored the taste, almost lapping it up like a pup. His stomach quivered,

actually quivered, each time he went down on his lover this way. He looked up through his hair,

grown longer for his boy, and watched Christian lose control.

Christian shivered, then yelped in pleasure when Lucca hummed and eased the head of

his lover’s cock toward the back of his throat. Christian’s balls tightened in his hold, and Lucca

lightly squeezed them, warning off the threat of an orgasm. He pulled back and licked along the

pulsing vein before taking Christian’s full length once again and didn’t stop until his nose settled

at the base of his lover’s cock.

Christian bucked and yelled out when Lucca swallowed. “Please, Lucca, I’m gonna…”

Lucca swallowed again and immediately pulled back.

“No! Control, baby. Breathe and focus. You’re not coming until I’m buried balls deep

inside you.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Lucca, this is torture. You’re mouth is heaven; I can’t take

anymore.”

Lucca smiled at the desperate words falling from his lover’s lips. He rubbed his own

leaking dick, trying to make it mind its business until he decided it was time for it to play. He

was losing. “Oh, that mouth. I love you, baby.”

“Yeah, love you. God, please, Lucca, I need you inside me,” Christian whimpered. He

moved his ass in little circles, searching for him, for something.

“Gonna fuck you, baby, long and hard. Keep your eyes open; don’t close them.”

Christian nodded in response, his eyes wide and excited. “Hurry, Lucca! Oh, please,

hurry!”

Lucca grabbed the lube, rubbed some on his dick, not that it needed much as wet as it

was, then massaged some in and around his intended target.

Dick in hand, he guided it to line up with Christian’s hungry entrance. He moaned and

pushed; stars danced in his vision.

“Dammit, baby, you’re so fucking tight.”

“In me...all the way,” Christian panted. “I won’t break.”

“You may not break,” Lucca’s straining voice said, “but I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“I need it. Please, Lucca, I want to feel you shove your dick deep inside me in one push.”

Needing no further encouragement, Lucca took a breath, grabbed Christian’s thin waist,

and impaled his lover to the hilt. Within moments, he was pressed as deeply into Christian as he

could get, thrusting with everything he had. There would be no going slowly. The tight, velvety

heat surrounding his dick made Lucca feel like a predator that had just mastered its prey. He

pulled out to the head and kept as still as he was able.

“I love how your ass begs for me. I want to hear you say it, baby. Beg me!” he shouted.

Lucca grabbed Christian’s ankles and rested them on his own shoulders, giving him better

access.

“Please, please fuck me, Lucca! I beg of you. Yeah, like that. Harder, I need it harder!”

Lucca held back no more. With Christian almost bent in half, he pounded into that sexy,

tight ass with everything he had.

“Let me come! Lucca, I need to come.”

Lucca grinned and thrust in. Utter bliss followed. He couldn’t tell anymore who was

saying or yelling what. All he knew was that he had died and gone straight to heaven. “Come!”

The cry from Christian’s lips, the roar from his own throat, brought them both over the

edge all too soon. He took the cuffs off Christian’s wrists and fell to his side, holding his boy for

all he was worth. Several minutes passed as they lay still, arms and legs entangled, both of them

panting as though they’d run a marathon.

“Instead of the spankings, can you just fuck me twenty more times today?”

Lucca laughed and swatted his imp’s ass. “Insatiable boy.”

A sudden and intense look burned in his boy’s eyes. A look that, if he didn’t know better,

Lucca would’ve described as fierce need and lust, but before he had the chance to read it clearly,

Christian looked away, and Lucca was certain he’d been mistaken.

Before he had the chance to puzzle over it much more, Christian turned back to face him

with nothing more than a playful look dancing in his eyes.

With a grin, his boy teased, “Yeah, but you love it.”

“Yeah, I love all of it.”

“You were up before me, weren’t you?”

Lucca kissed the top of his lovely head and rolled around to sit on the side of the bed. He

brushed his fingers through his black hair and grinned. “Why do you say that?”

“Minty mouthwash.”

“Very observant.”

“And I smell yumminess in the air. Did you make breakfast?”

Lucca laughed, stood up, and strode across the room to the cherry wood dresser. He

opened the top drawer and grabbed a pair of boxer briefs and a white tee.

“Baby, you know I’d do anything in the world for you, especially on your birthday, but

cook? No, sorry, that’s asking too much. I had Ms. Maye come in to prepare your favorite

breakfast.

“Ms. Maye’s here?” Christian jumped off the bed, got tangled in the silk sheet, then

tripped and landed on the floor with a thunk.

Lucca spun around and broke into deep gasps of laughter. All he could see was a creamy

white ass sticking straight up in the air and arms and legs fighting to get loose from their

nemesis. Christian’s head popped out of the sheet, his eyes wide open, his cheeks a rosy red, and

his mouth open in disbelief.

“Are you hurt, baby?”

Christian kicked a few more times and finally freed himself. “You let me scream my

damn fool head off like a banshee that whole time, and Ms. Maye is downstairs cooking?

Omigod!”

Lucca smiled widely and held his hand out to help Christian to his feet. “Yep. It’s your

birthday.”

“It was X-rated,” Christian said apprehensively. His whole body blushed in

embarrassment. “She heard X-rated material. What if it was too much for her? What if she ran

out with her hands covering her ears, yelling about how naughty we are? Oh God! Our food!

What if she forgot about our food when she ran out, screaming about how naughty we are? It’ll

burn. Oh shit! No birthday breakfast!” Christian pushed past Lucca, grabbed his robe, and started

out of the bedroom,

Lucca grabbed Christian’s arm and stopped his retreat before he was able to get out the

door. “Easy, sweetheart, it’s not like she doesn’t know we’re sexually active. She’s been around

us since we became an us. Besides, I sort of told her it would probably be best if she turned her

Zune up really loud and called it good until she saw us.”

Christian scratched his head and bit his upper lip. “Do you think we should get a man

housekeeper and cook? A gay one? Mario has been with us, or I mean with my parents, since I

can remember, and he’s never seemed to mind the stuff that goes on behind closed doors.”

“For what? Ms. Maye does a fine job.”

“But…well…I mean,” Christian took a deep breath and started again. “I mean…it’s

like…well, you know.”

Lucca bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing out loud. He just loved it when

Christian got all worked up over nothing. His brain took the boy places most people never

thought existed. He’d just spend a few minutes having fun with his boy’s obvious state of

distress. “No, I don’t. Tell me.”

“I said a lot of bad words, and she thinks I’m all innocent and sweet and all that. Do you

think she thinks I’m a virgin?” he said, the words coming out so fast they were actually tripping

over themselves.

At that, Lucca lost it. He laughed so hard that he had tears in his eyes. He shut the door

and grabbed Christian in a hug. “I assure you, my love, she knows you're not a virgin. Don’t you

remember getting drunk and telling her all about how we make love?”

Christian froze in mid-step on the way to the bathroom and spun around. “Omigod! I did

do that. I did that; didn’t I do that? Oh, I’m bad, so bad. I’m so going right to the second level of

Hell.”

“Yep. You probably told her more than she ever wanted to know about a gay

relationship, especially in the bedroom.”

Christian closed his eyes and laid his head back. “My fathers would just kill me if they

found out how I’d spoken to her, and I gave all the gritty details too?”

Lucca laughed and led him into the bathroom, turning the shower on. He adjusted all

three shower heads and grabbed Christian by his robe. He untied the belt and let the robe fall to

his boy’s feet. “Well, I do believe that was the same night you told her how lucky you were

because, and I quote here, ‘He’s hung like a horse, and I’m even luckier still because I’m the

only one who gets to ride said horse.’”

Christian stood under a showerhead, closed his eyes, and laid his head back with a grin.

“I’m such a bad boy. No manners whatsoever, but I didn’t lie. You are hung like a horse.”

“Flippant is what you are.” He grabbed the lavender body wash, spread a generous

amount over the sponge, and began washing Christian’s back. “That was quite a night. They sent

you to bed, which wasn’t a bad idea really, because God knows what you would have said next

and to whom.”

“Mmm,” Christian purred, leaning back into Lucca’s strong hands. “I remember you

tucking me into bed, and that hot as hell kiss I got? God, I was hard for days after that.”

“Oh, that’s right. I had to go to Denver the next day.”

“Yeah, for three whole days. It sucked.”

Lucca reached around with the sponge and started washing Christian’s chest. “We should

make up for lost time.”

Christian agreed fully.

*****

“There’s my birthday boy. Happy twenty-first, buachaill milis.”

Christian’s smile lit up his whole face. He loved when she spoke Irish to him and knew

immediately she’d called him a sweet bit. He loved to listen to the musical lilt of her brogue and

would often sit in the kitchen with her for hours just to listen to her talk. Lucca smiled, watching

Christian almost running into Ms. Maye’s waiting arms.

“I think mayhap ye’ve grown a wee bit, fella,” she said, standing on her tippy toes. She

still just came to his chest and had to lean back to look up at him.

“And such a grand fine thing ye are too. Turn ’round then, and let an auld lass take a

gander at ye.” As Christian spun around with his arms at his waist, she whistled. “The trousers

are the perfect fit and that jumper matches your lovely, emerald eyes.”

Christian blushed and thanked her with a kiss on her rosy cheek.

“Howyiz, Master Lucca. Breakfast is all ready. I’ve made all ye’re favorites, so go on,

tuck in now,” she said, looking back to Christian, who sat himself at the breakfast bar. “Oh, and

me blatherin’ on; why, I almost forgot somethin’,” she declared as she turned and left the room.

Lucca sat beside Christian, taking a drink of coffee. “Looks great.”

“Just yummy! I don’t know what to have first.”

Lucca grabbed a piece of toast. He loved to see his boy get excited over the simple things

in life. The vast array of foods sitting in front of him made his mouth water: eggs, pancakes,

French toast, bacon, sausage, ham, fresh fruit, tortillas; it went on and on. They could feed a

small army.

“Baby, I think we’re gonna be here a while. Oh, I think there’re fresh berries in the

pancakes.”

“Here we are,” Ms. Maye said, coming back into the kitchen carrying a colorful bag. She

placed it on the table next to Christian with a smile. “What’re ye waitin’ for then? Go on,

sweetlin’, and open it.”

Christian’s mouth dropped open in an O of surprise. “You got me a present? You already

came in on your day off to cook for us, and you got me a gift too?”

“Boy, stop being so modest and tear into it. You know you want to,” Lucca said,

laughing. He watched their four-foot-nine-inch, tough-as-nails housekeeper beaming as Christian

did exactly what he knew he wanted to do. Ms. Maye was a godsend, and her fire red hair

matched her personality. Though neither he nor Christian had ever had a taste of her fiery

temper, they knew of others who had, and they both took precautions to avoid that part of her.

“Omigod! A new touch screen Zune! It’s even red! Omigod! It’s HD. And look, look at

this!” Christian had his hand in the bag and pulled out a bigger box, placing it in front of him, “A

docking station!”

“Aye, boyo, that’s so when ye’re doin’ your schoolwork, ye don’t need to put those

things in ye’re ears. Ye’ll still be able to hear us callin’ for ye.”

Lucca nodded in agreement. What a smart idea. Why hadn’t he thought of that? Probably

because Ms. Maye had had the worst scare ever due to his boy and his Zune and the earphones

he always seemed to have stuck in his ears.

A few weeks ago, Christian had been upstairs studying for a psychology exam and didn't

tell Ms. Maye where he’d be in the house. The 5500 square foot, three story home with an attic

was one place it was easy to lose someone. If one wanted his own space, all he needed to do was

pick a room and get lost. On that particular day, Lucca had been in Phoenix conducting business,

and Ms. Maye had called him in absolute hysterics. The only thing he could make out was that

Christian was missing; he was nowhere to be found. She’d called his friends, and they told her

the last time they’d heard from him was at school earlier that day. She’d called his parents and

ended up putting Nicholas in hysterics.

Lucca had run out of his meeting, not telling anyone what was going on, and raced back

to Tucson. Paul and Nicholas had arrived at the house within seven minutes of the call. They’d

torn through the front door to find Ms. Maye sitting on the stairs, sobbing and blowing her nose.

She’d been calling for her darlin’ babby but couldn’t find him anywhere.

Lucca’s heart had bled for Paul that day. He’d felt the man’s pain as if it was his own.

Paul ran through the front door, not even stopping to see if Ms. Maye was okay. Instead, he’d

flown past her, yelling for his son. Nicholas, who was in as bad of shape as Ms. Maye, had

handed her a good measure of Irish whiskey before running off in another direction, calling out

to Christian and begging God to let him be okay.

The tears clouding Paul’s vision had steadily dripped down his face. He had checked

every floor and almost every room, to no avail. He’d carried his cell phone in his hand, ready to

hit the send button to call the police if his search of the attic had led to a dead end. He’d prayed

to God with each step he took that his only son would be on the other side of the door. He

couldn’t fathom life without Christian or Nicholas in it. He’d turned the knob as if it were made

of ice, opened the door, and stood in the doorway. His eyes couldn’t sweep the area quickly

enough; his heart refused to settle itself to a steady rhythm until he spotted his son.

“Oh, thank you, God,” he said, both smiling and silently crying at the same time.

Christian sat under the attic window with his Zune’s earbuds firmly planted, his laptop on a

small eating tray, and his eyes glued to the screen, frantically typing away. For several long

seconds, Paul had stood rooted in the same spot to allow the image to burn into his mind.

Christian hadn’t noticed his father damn near standing on top of him; not until Paul knelt

down and got eye level with him. He’d looked at his dad and smiled as he took the earbuds out

of his ears. He’d opened his mouth as if to say something, but nothing came out. A look of

uncertainty crossed his eyes.

“Uh…hi, Dad.” He’d nibbled on his lower lip, as he usually did when he was nervous,

and had tried to smile. “Did I do something wrong?”

Paul just shook his head, then reached out and took his son in his arms. He had to hold

him; he had to know he was there and okay.

Lucca, who was being escorted home by a few friends in the sheriff’s department, was

twenty minutes away when Paul’s call had come through that Christian had been located and was

just fine.

After that incident, Lucca had his security systems updated. He’d had cameras, an

intercom system, and motion detectors installed in every room, every nook, and every cranny on

both the inside and outside of the house. He’d also invested in four Doberman Pinschers to guard

the property, much to Christian’s delight. The chances they’d become lap dogs if Lucca allowed

it? Almost a hundred percent.

Lucca even insisted that Christian put his location on a cork board he’d hung in the

kitchen. Though his boy had thrown a tantrum, there would be no getting around the new rules.

Everyone’s main priority was keeping him safe.

“You’re never gonna let me live that down,” Christian said, grabbing a stack of pancakes.

“Nay, ye took fifteen years off my life that day, laddie. When I rock out with my Zune,

I’m in one of three places. Ye could be anywhere,” Ms. Maye teased.

Though Lucca laughed along with them, the feeling of dread continued to climb. Ever

since that day, he’d had an eerie feeling taking root in his mind, and every day its roots continued

to grow deeper. Each time he felt it eating at his gut, no matter the time, he’d call his boy just to

be sure he was where he was supposed to be. Something wasn’t right, and it scared the hell out

of him. He wondered if locking the boy up in his room was an option.

After breakfast, Lucca winked at Ms. Maye and leaned back on the chair. “Sweetheart,

will you please run out to my car and grab a manila envelope from the trunk? I’m too full to

move.”

Christian stuffed one last piece of bacon in his mouth, kissed Lucca’s nose, and damn

near skipped out of the kitchen, humming. Lucca smiled. Just feed the boy, and he was as happy

as a pig in the sunshine. Where he put it all was still a mystery.

Unbeknownst to Christian, Lucca and Ms. Maye followed closely behind, and when he

opened the front door, they smiled when Christian squealed, then shouted something that

sounded like, “Omigod!” several times over.

Lucca’s heart swelled with love at seeing his boy cry tears of happiness. Christian stood

as still as a statue at the front door, his eyes glued to the driveway, his mouth stuck wide open.

Lucca went up to stand behind Christian and put his hand on his shaking shoulder.

“Here’s the key.”

Christian took a couple deep breaths and turned to face Lucca. “Am I really seeing a

brand new, candy apple red Camaro with a big, red bow sitting in our driveway?”

He couldn’t help but grin. He loved making Christian happy and would do anything in

the world for him, no matter what it took. For a quick second that feeling of dread struck him,

and it took his breath away. He squeezed Christian closer to him and nodded.

“And does the license plate really say, ‘Lucca’s Lover’?”

“Yep.”

“You bought a car?”

He laughed and kissed his boy’s sweet lips, and he let it linger, tasting the maple syrup. “I

bought you a car. The back plate, the legal plate, says, ‘Christian’.”

“Omigod! Oh, Lucca!” He was actually vibrating, and Lucca held him a little tighter.

“It’s mine?”

“Happy birthday, baby. She’s all yours.” He dropped the keys in Christian’s hand and

gently gave him a push out the front door. “Go look at her.”

And Christian did. He ran out the door as if it wasn’t even there. He jumped down the six

concrete steps, hopped over the hedges that lined the drive, and slid to a stop a foot from the

shiny, new car. Lucca could see from where he stood that Christian shook from head to toe. Ever

so slowly, he walked all the way around the beautiful, red machine. He peeked in the tinted

windows for a good five minutes…each. Once he’d done this a couple of times, he turned to face

Lucca with tears streaming down his face. “Thank you.”

Lucca was afraid to open his mouth right then. The lump that had settled in his throat

threatened to explode into full blown tears. All he could do was smile. His eyes? That was a

whole different story. They were as glassed over as Christian’s and Ms. Maye’s were.

“She’s beautiful!”

“Not quite as beautiful as you are, baby. How about we take her for a spin? Your parents

are expecting us.”

If Christian’s smile grew any wider, it’d swallow them up whole. “Oh yeah. I’d say a

definite spin is in order.”

*****

Stopping at an intersection near his parents’ home, Christian looked over to his lover and

felt such a strong sense of—something he couldn’t put a name to. Love, as simple as that four

letter word was, didn’t come close to what he felt for the man. It had nothing to do with the car.

He’d had these feelings, these deep feelings, since he was a kid and a young one at that. It was as

if he had been missing a part of his life growing up. Yes, he was treated wonderfully by his dads.

He was loved, adored really, and he adored his fathers in return. But he’d always felt as though a

tiny part of him had been left undone—until Lucca. Lucca completed him, made him whole.

“I really love her. She’s tops.”

Lucca laughed. “Baby, she better not top you. I’ll get rid of her; I do not share.”

Christian felt his cheeks heat up at the innuendo. “Ew, girl cooties. I think the car’s going

in for a sex change first thing in the morning.” He pulled into his fathers’ driveway, but before he

had the pleasure of honking the horn, he spotted his parents standing at the front door. Lucky?

Yes, he knew without a doubt how lucky he was. He had two devoted fathers and a lover who

cherished him and that particular lover? Christian adored him more than life itself. All three of

them were all his to love until his dying days. That was luck.

Maybe that’s why he wanted to go into child psychology. Then again, he also wanted to

be a child advocate and a juvenile parole officer. He didn’t know in what specific way just yet,

but he did know that he wanted to work with kids who weren’t as fortunate as he was, as he had

been his whole life—unlike Dwight, who Christian knew had had less than an ideal childhood.

No matter how much money someone had, it could never guarantee an ideal anything. Dwight

came from money, but that hadn’t guaranteed his happiness.

Over the course of this semester, he’d begun noticing Dwight showing up around campus

quite a bit. It was becoming more and more difficult for Christian to ignore him and at times

those piercing eyes shook him up more than he cared to admit. This would be his last year,

though, then he’d be done and would be able to avoid seeing the guy, altogether.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Let’s get out,” Lucca said, petting Christian’s thigh.

“We can break her in later. I can picture your head down here in my lap, my dick deep in your

throat, that sweet tongue swirling its way all around it.”

Christian’s heart rate picked up, his breathing grew deeper, and his dick heard every word

that fell from Lucca’s mouth. “You keep talking like that, and I’ll put this girl in drive and find

an empty field.”

Lucca grinned and opened the door. He stepped out and looked at Christian’s lap. “Now

I’ve got you right where I want you. Get out, baby.”

Christian’s stomach was as excited as his dick, those butterflies fluttering around like

nobody’s business. “You’re so not right. Think icky thoughts, think,” he moaned. He grabbed

hold of his unruly dick and mentally told it his dads were right outside, waiting. Old man what’s-

his-face without a shirt…boobs…ahh, there, all better. He wiped his forehead on his shirtsleeve

and opened the door.

“I can’t wait to open her up on I-10,” he said, gently closing the door.

“Oh, no you don’t, young man. I’ll insist that Lucca take it back. I’ll sit here day after day

worrying about you.”

Christian gave his father Nicholas an impish grin and went into his waiting arms. “You

do that anyway,” he said, kissing his cheek.

“I do not. Well, at least not every minute of every day anymore like I used to,” Nicholas

said in his defense, “Just every other minute.” Everyone laughed, making his father blush.

“Happy birthday, Son.”

“Thank you, Father.”

“And may I add that the new car suits you perfectly?”

Christian released his father and gleamed. “It does, right? But between you and me, I

think Lucca fits me better.”

“Oh! How sweet is that? Did you hear him, Paul? I did rub off on him after all.”

“Of course you did, hon; you raised him. It was bound to happen, a romantic at heart.”

Christian turned to look at his father Paul and went into his waiting arms, “Hi, Dad.”

“Happy twenty-first, Son. How does it feel to be of legal drinking age?”

Christian hugged him hard for a few long seconds and kissed his cheek. “Dunno. But I

remember what it felt like to be of illegal drinking age, and it sucked.”

“What a good boy I raised,” Nicholas gloated, his hands over his heart.

“Yes, hon, until he does something wrong, that is. Then it’s, what a shameful boy you

raised, Paul.”

Everyone but Nicholas laughed as they made their way up to the house.

“But Dad,” Christian said, giving his father Paul an innocent look, “I never do anything

wrong. I’m an angel.”

“Oh, is that so?” Lucca said, holding the front security door open for everyone.

Christian fluttered his long eyelashes, and wiggling his ass after his fathers, he went

inside. “Yep, Dad always said so. He said, ‘My perfect angel.’”

Paul spun around, his brows raised, his lips parted in a grin, and he cut a look in his

husband’s direction; Nicholas was gloating! Christian couldn’t contain his giggle.

“And I suppose your perfect little angel never heard anything that followed that loving

endearment.”

Nicholas looked deep in thought for several moments. “I’m sure he did, although I never

more than once had to point out the error of his ways.”

“That’s right, Dad. That’s exactly it,” Christian said, boasting.

“That’s a good boy. Your gifts are in the Arizona room, but first, we must toast your

special day,” Nicholas said, leading them into the study.

“None for Christian, Nicholas, but perhaps you have some cider?”

Everyone looked at Lucca standing in the study doorway.

Christian felt his cheeks burn. Certainly Lucca was kidding around. “You’re joking,” he

said, “right?”

“As a matter of fact, no I’m not. No alcohol, not even a tiny sip.”

Christian now felt the warmth of his embarrassment throughout his body. “But…”

Christian’s blood began to heat up. Oh, how he loved it when his man got all bossy like that.

“Shall I take your gift back? I mean, you keep telling me how much you love me, how

you want to spend the rest of eternity with me. You seem to enjoy the car, but I ask you,

sweetheart, how can any of that happen if you’re wrapped around a damn tree...dead?”

“Oh, dear God in Heaven,” Nicholas squeaked, his hands back over his heart. “He’s right.

Oh, Paul, what was I thinking? I was going to give our son alcohol and send him off in his brand

new, pretty red car. I’m irresponsible. I’m a horrible father!”

Paul stood behind his husband, taking him in his arms. “Hon, you’re not a horrible father.

You’re a wonderful one, the best. Isn’t that right, Christian?”

Christian loved to see his parents lean on one another like that, even if his father was

damn near in hysterics. He felt a little guilty, though. He wouldn’t have accepted the drink

anyway. There would be no way in hell he’d have taken a drink and gotten behind the wheel of

his new baby. With his lover’s life in his hands, no less? No, thank you!

He tried not to smile at his father’s display of emotion. Christian flashed his fathers his

puppy dog eyes as he cocked his head in innocence. He truly loved these men, all three of them.

His heart swelled and warmth spread through him again. “The best, I have the best fathers of

anyone I know. I’m so happy, and the both of you are a big part of the reason why; Lucca is the

other. The three of you make me whole, and I don’t know what I’d do without a one of you.

Without you, I’d die. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Oh, angel,” Nicholas cried.

The next thing Christian knew, he was being hugged, mauled really, between his fathers.

They fussed over him until he was soaked and wrinkled.

He peeked over at Lucca’s sweet face and smiled. “I love you.” He truly was the luckiest

man on earth. Everything in his life was perfect…well, almost perfect. He shivered and laid his

head on his father Paul’s strong shoulder.

Dwight was really beginning to scare the hell out of him. He was always showing up

wherever Christian was. Dwight rarely attempted to talk to him; he just stared, unnerving him

more than anything. For once in his life, he was grateful for the unseen bodyguards. Dwight’s

cold eyes always managed to fill him with a feeling of dread, like the man was planning

something and it was anything but pleasant. Unfortunately, he figured whatever Dwight had

planned, it had something to do with him, and it would not end on a light note. Not where

Dwight was concerned.

When his parents had moved him to Italy to finish high school, Dwight had attempted to

contact him, had even tried to arrange a visit to see him, but each time, Christian had shunned the

guy. Eventually the calls stopped, the emails stopped, and so did the texts. He’d been afraid of

Dwight; he’d had every reason to be.

The guy was pushy. Dwight had anger issues, especially when Christian had refused to

play his weird games, and he’d actually hit Christian a few times when he wouldn’t let Dwight

do more than give him a blow job. Once, Dwight had punched Christian in the face because he’d

wanted them to make out in front of other people and Christian had dared to refuse. The blow

had bloodied Christian’s lip, and Dwight followed the abuse by throwing him against a nearby

tree. His eyes were wild, strange looking; the second he’d noticed the fear in Christian’s eyes,

however, he’d changed and started fussing over him, begging for forgiveness and promising

never to do it again. Like an idiot, Christian had believed him.

A few months before he’d met Lucca, Dwight’s strange outbursts of jealously rose to

levels that made him wonder about the guy’s sanity. It had been a bitch trying to cover the

bruises and hide them from his dads. Once, his father Paul had noticed a bruise on his face when

they were in the pool; the damn concealer had come off in the water. Even after Christian had

laughed it off, saying he and a few friends were goofing off, and he’d gotten caught by a wild

punch, his father had looked at him with deep concern and told him he was there to listen, talk,

or both.

He could never find a way to tell his parents the truth of the telltale marks that kept

appearing on his body. It had gotten to the point that he’d had to wear long sleeved shirts and

jeans, no matter how warm it was. It was a blessing when they’d moved to Italy. He didn’t have

to pretend to be happy, because he truly was, but something lingered, a feeling that told him it

wouldn’t last long.

“Okay, enough of this. I’m going to have puffy eyes,” Nicholas said, letting his men go.

“You never have puffy eyes, sweetheart.”

Nicholas beamed at Paul and dabbed his eyes. “You’re just biased, but I love you

anyway. Now, let’s go see about some gifts.”

*****

After Christian had opened the mountain of gifts, they moved the party to the pool area

where they enjoyed a late lunch and non-alcoholic drinks. Though they’d wanted to throw him a

big party for his birthday and invite all his friends, Christian had refused. He’d wanted to spend

the entire day with the three men he loved the most.

“Angel, why are you standing all the way over there by yourself?”

He couldn’t help but smile. His father Nicholas was always so worried. “I’m taking

memory pictures. I wanna remember this day forever.”

He turned and saw the concern in Lucca’s eyes. That man read him like an open book,

missing nothing. It was getting so hard to hide his own fears so Lucca wouldn’t worry

needlessly. He was pretty sure Dwight wouldn’t do anything; he was probably just over reacting.

But what if he wasn’t? Maybe he should tell them, just get it out so he didn’t have to carry this

alone, but if it turned out to be nothing, and he worried them needlessly? No. Things would be

fine. They had to be.

“Well, it’s time for you to change the film or batteries or something,” Nicholas said.

He held a wine glass out to his son with a wicked smile on his face. “It’s pure cherry

juice, your favorite.”

Christian smiled and accepted the drink.

“I propose a toast,” Nicholas said, turning to face his husband and Lucca.

Christian went to stand next to Lucca and his father Paul while Nicholas, ever the drama

queen, took his spot.

“To you, my son, on your twenty-first birthday. It seems as though we celebrated your

first birthday just yesterday; I remember every detail so clearly. I look at you now, and I see you

as my chubby little cherub with those big, green eyes, blond locks, those rosy pink cheeks, and

those sweet, heart shaped lips. Your genuine smile, good nature, and loving heart have made you

a great man. It’s hard to say that, to think of you as a man rather than as my baby boy.” Nicholas

wiped his teary eyes and took a small sip of his juice.

“Having you was truly the absolute best event in my life. You were born for us, for Paul

and me. The second you opened your sweet eyes and looked at us, we knew you were the piece

we’d been missing. You wrapped your tiny little fingers around my pinky and held on, almost as

if you were telling me not to let you go, and baby boy, I never did.”

He looked at Paul with a smile that spread across his face. “Do you remember the nurses

at the hospital? They gave us our own room so Christian could stay with us that first night.”

Paul wiped the wetness from his eyes and nodded. “I do, and I also remember that you

didn’t sleep a wink. In fact, I think you broke the nurses’ call button as many times as you

pressed it.” Everyone laughed in understanding.

Blushing, Nicholas replied, “Yes, well one wants to be sure all is as it should be.”

“Babe, even a hiccup caused you to blue code the poor nurse on duty.”

“Blue code? Did I turn blue?” Christian asked.

“No, but Nicholas panicked. He ran into the hallway crying that you were fighting to take

a breath. Goodness, that call brought nurses and doctors running down the hallway, ordering

crash carts and CPR.”

Again, Nicholas blushed a deep red when everyone started laughing. “Well, it’s not like I

knew it was a silly hiccup. I just wanted to be sure my angel was okay.”

“I think the thing that finally got us kicked out of the hospital was Nicholas’s reaction to

Christian’s first colorful diaper load.”

“It was green! How in the world is that okay?” Nicholas said behind a grin.

“Ugh, come on. Do we have to talk about this? Just gross,” Christian said, covering his

ears. “I say we talk about when we’re leaving for Italy.” He knew they were leaving for

Christmas break next week, and it couldn’t come quickly enough. He wanted these creepy

feelings to go away. The thought of finishing college in Italy crossed his mind. Maybe he’d talk

to Lucca about that tonight.

Chapter Three

“Lucca!”

“In here sweetheart, and don’t forget to close the…door,” he added after he heard it slam

shut, followed by his boys rushed, no running steps through the hallway. He turned to see his

imp come flying into the study holding a…

“What is that?” He swore it looked like a puppy, a tiny black and brown one.

“You haven’t seen one in so long that you forgot what a pup looks like? Just look at her!”

Christian gently placed his bundle beside Lucca on the chair. “Her name is Bryn. Isn’t she the

sweetest ever?”

Lucca kept his hands in his lap, trying to ignore the sweet little thing. Another dog?

“She’s beautiful, Christian, but don’t you think this is something we should’ve talked

about first?”

Christian petted and cooed over the tiny Doberman that would soon grow to be way too

big to cuddle. “Yes, she is. I dunno, I swear I just went to the pet store to look, but then I came to

her cage, and there she was, sticking her little button nose through the wire mesh and trying to

kiss me. Lucca, it was love at first sight. All I could think about was that she needed rescuing,

and I needed to be the one to do it. She’s fully papered; she’s just eleven weeks old, and I have

an appointment to take her to her doctor first thing next week for her check up and to get one of

those micro-chip things put in her neck so she can be found if she goes missing.”

“Baby, I’m not saying that we can’t keep her; I just think we should’ve discussed it first.”

Christian blushed, picked Bryn up, and placed her on his lap. “Well, I wanted to talk to

you about the idea of getting another dog a couple of days ago, but you were out of town, and

then I forgot, and well…here we are.”

Lucca looked into those pleading eyes and knew he’d lost. “I suppose the four boys we

have running amok aren’t enough anymore, huh? Oh well. She’ll need a trainer; have you looked

into that?”

Christian smiled and placed the pup on the floor right before he jumped into Lucca’s lap.

“So, I can keep her?”

Lucca looked down at the little one with a smile. If this is what made his boy happy, what

was the harm? They’d need to hire someone to follow the baby around, though, to clean up the

messes she was sure to get into.

“I’m not picking up after her, and she is not sleeping in the bed with us.”

*****

That night as they lay in bed, Lucca remembered what he’d said to Christian about what

wasn’t going to happen. He’d already reneged on both his statements. Little Bryn had managed

to wrap his heart around her tiny paws already, and here she was, curled up in their bed as

though it belonged to her, and she was merely allowing him and Christian to share it with her.

“Baby, why don’t you put her in her crate beside the bed? I don’t want her to see us

getting down and dirty.”

Christian lay on his side, gently petting the pup that snuggled between them fast asleep.

“She’ll cry, though. I hate to hear her cry.”

“Then put her in the crate we have in the kitchen. We won’t be able to hear her. And no,

she is not sleeping with us.”

Christian giggled. “You’re right. The last thing we need is to corrupt her sweet little

mind. I’ll just run her downstairs.” He gently picked up the sleeping puppy and batted his eyes at

his man. “Don’t get started without me.”

Lucca rolled to his back and slipped the covers below his hardening cock. “Too late, you

better hurry.” He took his very awake dick in hand and played with the red head, smearing the

clear fluid that steadily leaked from the slit around with his thumb. “I’m waiting,” he said when

Christian’s gaze got stuck.

His boy nodded and walked out of the bedroom backwards, his eyes never leaving

Lucca’s busy hand. Lucca counted the minutes, five to be exact, and his boy came flying back

into the room looking like sex on a stick, his hair swept back off his face, those green eyes

sparkling, and that sweet mouth parted. Oh, he had plans for that mouth.

“Come here, baby.”

Christian slipped his shorts off on his way to their bed and damn near crawled on top of

Lucca’s chest. One look into those eyes stole Lucca’s breath; he could not believe this beautiful

being was his. Words could never express how much Christian meant to him. His whole life

revolved around the man, and he couldn't be happier.

Christian’s long fingers softly stroked Lucca’s chest, playing with each nipple, making

them hard. He took each one in his mouth, licking and nibbling at the same time. He kissed his

way down Lucca’s tight abdomen, lingered a bit near his belly button, blowing hot air and

licking him like he was a lollipop. Christian pulled the edge of the sheet down, inch by inch,

slowly trailing kisses along the way.

“I love the way you smell,” Christian murmured once Lucca’s dick sprang free. All

Lucca could do was groan in exquisite pleasure when his boy licked the head, lapping up the

clear fluid that gathered there.

Speech was something Lucca had no desire to try at the moment, not when that sweet

mouth opened up and took him right to the root. “Uh, love!” He looked down to watch his imp

looking up at him with potent desire in those hot eyes.

Christian pulled back with a pop, licking his lips. “Yummy…just yum.”

Lucca wrapped his fingers in Christian’s hair and brought those lips back to his pulsating

cock. He needed that mouth around him. As Christian lightly licked at the precum, Lucca

moaned his approval, pumping his hips to get inside to the moist heat. His boy opened his mouth,

allowed him entrance, and swallowed him whole.

“Christ! That’s it, baby. Yeah.” He tried to remain in control, but his imp seemed hell

bent on making him come all too soon.

“Baby, you gotta stop. I’m gonna…” Christian let up for the briefest second before

taking him whole again, all the way down, that tongue doing flips around his dick. An electric

sensation began its course throughout Lucca’s body, following a current along his spine from

one head to the other. He wasn’t exactly sure where the buzz had started, and he found he didn’t

care much when it suddenly shot from the head of his dick. Lucca moaned in satisfaction as he

flooded his boy’s throat.

Christian spent several moments cleaning Lucca up, humming to that same tune about

flesh eating things running through the woods.

“Damn, imp. I think you short circuited my brain. You get better and better at that. Are

you taking lessons?”

Christian grabbed a corner of the sheet that had fallen to the floor and lazily cleaned

himself off. “Yep, and it was so-ooo embarrassing. The other day I was having lunch, and I felt

like having a nice, cool cucumber. You know how I love them peeled, washed, and sprinkled

with salt?”

Lucca grabbed at Christian and pulled him up to lay near him, then wrapped him in his

arms. “You came didn’t you?”

“Uh huh. When you make all those noises and lose your mind, it makes me lose mine too.

Anyway, as I was saying, I was having lunch and had that whole cucumber sitting on my plate,

and I was alone. Well, I was missing you; you were in California or some place, and there that

cucumber was.”

Lucca’s eyes opened wide; he shook his head, trying not to let his mind’s eye visualize

what his brain was cooking up.

“So, I picked it up, licked it a few times. Mmm…the salt on that cool cucumber was so

tasty.” He licked his lips and moaned. “I sprinkled it again and licked it up and down, side to

side.”

Oh God! The brat was deliciously wicked.

“It was hard, so hard and so cold. I wrapped my lips around the tip of it and wondered

how it’d feel sliding down my…”

That’s all he had a chance to say, as Lucca couldn’t take anymore. He flipped his brat

over onto his stomach, Christian giggling the entire time. When the imp wiggled his sweet ass,

begging for attention, all Lucca could do was moan.

“Did you deep throat it like you did me, baby?” He grabbed the lube off the nightstand

and poured a generous amount onto his fingers, not caring that some spilled over and dripped

onto the sheet beside his boy who was now moaning into the pillow.

“Mm hm…deep, so deep.”

Lucca brought him to his knees and spread the liquid around the tight muscles of his

opening. He wanted in there so badly, but he would not rush this part. He petted Christian’s

lower back while his fingers found entrance to Christian’s willing body. One finger at a time, he

pushed into that narrow passage; two fingers in, and he pegged the gland that almost proved to

be Christian’s undoing. He yelped and shoved his ass back, seeking more. Lucca got on his

knees, lined the head of his cock up to his lover’s asshole, and pushed. In one fluid motion, he

was buried balls deep and panting like a teenager.

“That’s it, baby! Move that ass for me. Take me and ride me.”

Christian wasted no time; he pushed back as Lucca pushed in. Together they rode their

high, and together they brought each other to the end of the world and flew. Lucca slammed into

the body that was all his, his fingers digging into Christian’s lean hips, holding on for all he was

worth.

“Lucca! Hell yes! I’m gonna come. Please, Lucca, come with me,” he moaned.

All Lucca could do was nod his head, the pleasure of his orgasm stealing his ability to

speak.

“Now!” he roared as Christian screamed that he loved him and would for all eternity.

They lay side by side, sated after the rush of loving, and Christian giggled again. “Oh

shit, baby, what did you do?”

“Well, do you remember when I told you I was alone with that cucumber?”

“Oh…oh no.”

“It was down my throat, you see, and I was moaning and thinking of your dick in its

place, and I looked up and…”

“Oh!”

Christian nodded and blushed. “Yep. I’m afraid I inadvertently gave Ms. Maye a lesson

in deep-throating cucumbers.”

Lucca roared in laughter, tears springing to his eyes as he tried to catch his breath. He had

to stop looking at Christian’s embarrassed face to control himself. He could just picture it now,

his boy giving a cucumber a blowjob and Ms. Maye frozen in shock.

“What did she say,” he finally asked.

“She asked me if, ‘that sort of attention to the pipe and plums was the shot,’ so after I

translated what I thought she meant, I figured since she’d seen me molest that veggie, she

deserved to know the truth. I told her yes but that a real one was warm and had a pulse. She

gasped and said I was naughty.”

Lucca roared out once again, rolling to his side and trying to breathe. Their poor

housekeeper, she’d forever be corrupted.

“The next day for lunch, she served me cut up cucumbers and said to stay out of her

fridge,” Christian said with a pout.

Lucca climbed out of bed and headed to the bathroom. “It’s probably for the best, dear.

The poor woman will never look at a cucumber the same way again.”

“Lucca? Why can’t we go to Italy a little early this year for the holidays?”

Lucca stood in the doorway with a wash cloth and towel in one hand as he brushed his

teeth with the other. He shook his head and spun around to spit in the sink. “Cuz, brat, we’re

already going to be there a month. I have some deals I need to close before we leave, and I need

to be sure Tom has what he needs to go it alone while we’re gone.”

Tom was one of his closest friends and had been since he could remember. Before

Christian, he was also a friend with benefits. He’d become his business partner, in short, to keep

the office in Tucson running smoothly when Lucca had to leave town.

He climbed back into bed and noticed the disturbed look in Christian’s eyes. That same

odd feeling crept back in, but now it was worse than before.

“Baby, what’s the matter? Is something bothering you?”

Christian took a deep breath and snuggled in closer as though to ward off a chill he

couldn’t seem to escape.

“No,” he answered all too quickly, “no, it’s nothing. I just can’t wait to get away for a

while. I wish we could live there. Bryn would love growing up on the beach.”

Lucca looked down and gently pulled Christian’s face up to look at him. “What’s wrong?

Did something happen? Is that why you bought little girl?”

Christian looked away. “No. I got her cuz she was lonely, and when you’re gone, I am

too. We’ll keep each other company. Nothing happened.”

“Christian,” Lucca said in a demanding tone, “look at me and tell me nothing’s wrong.”

Now he was on the verge of being both scared and pissed off. Something was definitely wrong,

and he sure as hell couldn’t read his boy’s mind. Christian kept his eyes downcast, giving Lucca

no opportunity to read what secrets might be lurking in them. When the boy didn’t answer

immediately, Lucca persisted.

“Answer me,” he demanded. “If you’re being threatened, Christian, you’d better tell me.

Speaking of which, why have you been playing your games again and losing the boys? In the

past two months, they claim you’ve given them the slip seven times. You have got to stop doing

that; I have them there for your safety. I’ll add another couple of guys if I have to.”

Christian shook his head and pulled away with a forced smile. He got out of bed and gone

was the worry from his eyes. “No. I think three is enough. I’m gonna run myself through the

shower. I love you, Lucca. More than life itself, I love you.”

He contemplated his boy’s behavior long after Christian had disappeared behind the

bathroom door. Something was dreadfully wrong.

“Yep, I’m adding another one, baby. I’ll be damned if someone out there has a chance to

hurt you.”

Chapter Four

“Could we have bought any more? I think your father is going to just be beside himself,”

Nicholas said as he struggled with the bags he was trying to hold on to.

Christian giggled and looked down at his own load, both arms full to the hilt with last

minute shopping gifts. In two more days they’d be leaving for Italy. Finally! He was positively

giddy. Once they boarded the plane, he’d be able to just relax and stop being so damn paranoid.

He quickly glanced over his shoulder, looking for any sign of him. Christian knew he was around

someplace. He felt him.

“We’d better hurry, Father. The show starts in thirty minutes.”

“Yes, yes, I’m hurrying as fast as I can. I’m not as young as you are, son. Whew, where

did we park anyway? Phoenix?”

Christian slowed his pace to walk beside his father. He glanced at him, taking in his olive

skin tone, his black hair, his hazel eyes, and the very colorful clothes he wore. He made design

print classy, without it being cheesy.

Once again, Christian snuck a look over his shoulder; something didn’t feel right. He felt

as though there were cold, dead fingers running up and down his spine and leaving a prickling

sensation at the back of his neck. Maybe they should just go home. It was bad enough that they’d

ditched his bodyguards earlier, but now here they were, walking in a deserted alley. Not the

brightest of things to do. He looked up the alley and breathed a sigh of relief. The car wasn’t far

off now.

“We’re almost there, Father. Hey, what do you say we head home? We can watch movies

or something.”

Nicholas made a great show of struggling with his packages once they were at the car,

and he dumped them into the trunk before he answered, acting as if he was entirely out of

breath—his father truly was such a drama queen sometimes.

“Angel, your father paid a mint for these tickets because you mentioned that you’d like to

see the Trans Siberian Orchestra perform their holiday concert. Well, here’s our chance to enjoy

the lovely music, accompanied by the wonderful, bright lights. Besides, I want to grab their new

release for a few friends in Italy.” Nicholas paused, puzzling at the troubled look on Christian’s

face.

“Are you okay, son? You’ve been jumpy all afternoon. Maybe we should call the men

and tell them where we are. I know you considered it an early Christmas gift, Christian, but I

never should have allowed you to throw your men off like this. How did I ever let you talk me

into doing something so risky? I must be out of my mind.”

“Father, those men who follow us wherever we go are around somewhere, you can bet on

it. I bet this car has a tracking device on it, and they found us the moment we lost them. I’m just

tired. You know I can’t sleep when Lucca’s gone. I hate those emergency calls that drag him

away.”

He shut the trunk and made sure the alarm was set. He saw disappointment in his father’s

eyes and felt like shit. They’d both been looking forward to this concert for ages, and here he

was, acting like a totally spoiled brat over nothing.

“We’d better hurry; I want to grab a glass of something yummy to drink.”

“There’s my boy. Let’s get there, then.”

*****

Christian spent the entire walk back to the car wishing he’d asked the security guard from

the concert hall to escort them. Once again, they were walking down the deserted alley after the

concert, which had been amazing on all levels; however, even during the thrill of the show, the

feeling of being watched had never left him. Christian felt totally creeped out to the point of

being downright scared. He stayed close to his father, needing that nearness to calm his rapidly

beating heart. He missed Lucca so much. Just one more day, one measly, agonizing twenty-four

hours, and they’d be together again.

“I simply loved it! Their music always gets me moving,” his father said, now shaking his

butt to music only he heard.

Christian looked around with a forced smile and nodded. “It was phenomenal.”

He felt like he was losing his mind. He felt like a caged, restless cat, and no matter what

he did, he could not shake this feeling. It was time to say something to someone. He glanced at

his father and opened his mouth to say it, just get it out, but shut it just as quickly. He didn’t want

to tell his father Nicholas. He’d just panic and call 911, and God only knows who else. No, it’d

be better to wait until they got home; then he could tell his father Paul.

Once they reached the car, Christian let out the breath he didn’t realize he’d been

holding. He popped the locks, placed his hand on the handle, and heard his father scream. For

what seemed like an eternity, he couldn’t bring himself to look at his father to see what was

wrong. He didn’t want to see his nightmare come to life. He forced himself to look and dropped

his keys. His mouth fell open but words died in his throat. This was not happening; it couldn’t be

happening!

“Oh God, no! Please, don’t hurt him,” he said frantically.

The guy who had a gun aimed at his father’s head, stood about six-foot-five, towering

over them both.

“Take whatever you want. We have money; here are the keys to the car. Just please, don’t

hurt us.”

The guy didn’t say a word. He just stood there with that gun trained on his father’s sweet

head. Nicholas looked as calm as he’d ever seen him. Why wasn’t he screaming? They needed

help.

“Please,” Christian begged. “Look, the keys fell, but here, I’ll get them. You don’t want

to hurt us, right?”

He looked to his left, at the opening of the alley, hoping like hell his guys would come

running to save them.

“Father, let’s just walk away. Come on, we’ll leave. We didn’t see anything,” he

whispered. His heart was pounding so hard it was sure to leave bruises on the inside of his chest.

He slowly moved his hand toward his pocket to get to his cell phone but froze when he heard the

hammer of the gun being cocked.

“Oh God,” he whispered. He looked over at the giant who was now walking, no, stalking

over to stand closer to his father. “Please,” his shaky voice pleaded, “we don’t want any trouble,

sir.”

“Too late for that, boy! Now, I want you to come to me, hands where I can see them.”

Nicholas gasped and lowered his raised hands.

“Sir, this is my son. We haven’t done any harm to anyone. We are asking that you take

what you came for, and leave us be.”

“Shut up! Get on your fucking knees, hands behind your back, head down! Do it, or I’ll

kill this worthless kid of yours.”

Nicholas’s eyes bulged and he nodded. “Okay, just please, don’t hurt him. I’m getting on

my knees here.”

“Father!” Christian screamed as his father lowered himself to his knees. His eyes never

left the crazy one with the gun. How could his father be so calm? They were going to die in this

deserted alley, for whatever reason, and his father was as calm as the day was long. He’s doing it

for me, he thought. His father always did things like that to protect him from the evils of the

world, and it didn’t matter how old Christian was or what was happening. If Paul wasn’t around,

Nicholas turned into an entirely different man. Christian shook from head to toe, feeling his

blood turn to ice. His nightmare was coming to life.

“It’s okay, angel. Just do what he says, and we’ll be okay. Maybe we should have left

when you suggested, huh?”

“I told you two to shut the fuck up!”

Nicholas looked over to his son; his eyes gaped in shock as he recognized the face of the

man approaching Christian from behind. Nicholas quickly assessed the situation and knew,

beyond a shadow of doubt, he had to act, or his son would not live to see another day.

“I love you, angel. Always remember that.”

Christian shook his head in denial. “No! Father, no!” But it was too late.

Nicholas jumped to his feet and charged the bigger guy, trying to grab the gun away.

Christian jumped and ran to help his father but was stopped midway by an arm around his neck

that nearly lifted him off the ground. He yelped out in pain and shock. He fought vigorously,

trying to get loose but only succeeded in reinforcing the hold his captor had on his throat. He saw

nothing but his father fighting with the goon who still held that damn gun.

“Dad! Someone, please help us!” he screamed, trying to look around them. “Let me go!”

“Shoot him,” the guy who held him snapped.

Oh fuck, no. No, this could not be happening. As the haze of fear clouding his mind

parted and made way for the revulsion he felt at recognizing the voice and touch of the man who

held him, Christian screamed, “No!”

He now fought in earnest; he needed to help his dad.

The sound of a gun being fired echoed from the walls of the narrow alleyway. Instantly,

the world moved in slow motion. Christian watched in frozen terror as his father’s assailant took

a step back. He saw his father grab his head, blood seeping between his fingers and running in

crimson rivulets down his cheek. Christian wailed, or at least he thought he did; his ears were

ringing from the sound of the gunshot. He registered the look of shock, pain, and sadness in his

father’s beloved eyes. Grief coursed through him, threatening to steal his breath, and he felt his

gorge rising.

His father fell to his knees, and said in a weak whisper, “I love you, my perfect angel.

“Young man, please, I beg of you, please, do not hurt him.”

“No! Oh God, no! Daddy! Let me go, you bastard!” He was crazed with fear and

disbelief. He fought his captor with everything he had but was pinned, being held too tightly.

The more he fought, the tighter the hold around his neck became.

He watched his father close his eyes, lying in that dirty alleyway, his life’s blood seeping

away all around him. Christian gasped for breath; the arm clamped around his neck and the lump

in his throat, choked him. The pain and anguish he felt exploded within him, running a course

throughout his body. He tried kicking the monster who held him; he tried twisting away, never

once taking his eyes off his father’s lifeless body.

“No!” he cried out again as his legs gave out. The only reason he remained on his feet

was because he was being gripped around the neck by the man he hoped would burn in Hell. He

wanted to die; he was doing all he could to make the guy kill him. He refused to give up and let

his father go alone.

He didn’t feel the jab of the needle when it was stuck in his neck. He only felt the deep

pains that tore through his heart and ripped it in half. His eyes grew heavy, his breath stolen from

him, and with one last look at his father, he cried out and gave in to the darkness that reached out

to envelop him.

*****

“Paul, may I come in?”

Paul sensed something was wrong when he saw the look on the face of the detective who

was standing on the flagstone entry. He’d known this man for several years, and he’d never seen

him looking so glum.

“Yes, of course. Come in, James.” He closed the door and led him into the study. “Can I

get you something to drink?”

James paled and shook his head. Paul could easily see the distress in the man’s teary eyes

and realized this was definitely not a social visit. No. He didn’t want to know; he didn’t want this

man in his home. A feeling of uncertainty had been with him all night, ever since his husband

and their son had left to do some last minute shopping before the concert. No, this visit was

anything but casual, and he knew it had to do with his family.

“Don’t, James. Do not say a word.” He shook his head in consummate denial and took a

couple of steps backwards until the backs of his knees hit a chair. He kept his eyes on his friend,

pleading with him to say anything but what he was there to say.

James wiped the tears from his eyes and bit his lower lip. “I’m…”

“No! God, please no. James, please, I want you to leave. I want you to get the hell out of

my house right now. I’ll have Nicholas arrange a nice dinner for us, okay? We’ll get together

soon. Okay?” Please, God, please let them be alright. They’re all I have!

James walked to stand next to Paul, placed his hand on his shaking shoulder, and helped

him to sit. James then knelt so he could look into his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Paul. I am.”

“It’s Nicholas?”

James nodded, glancing briefly away. “He’s been shot,” he said gently.

Paul’s breath stopped in his throat, no air in or out. His heart pounded behind his ribs, his

head screamed out in overwhelming agony. “No! No! Not my baby! You take it back; do you

hear me? There’s just been some sort of mix up. Nicholas and Christian went out together

tonight, James. They’ll be home any minute now; you’ll see. Sure, they’re a little late, but you

know how traffic is this time of year. Are you sure I can’t get you something? If Nicholas comes

home and sees you empty handed, he’ll have an absolute fit. You know how he is about those

things.”

Paul knew he was rambling, but he couldn’t seem to stop the words from pouring out. He

was trembling uncontrollably from head to toe and could feel the tears coursing down his cheeks.

“Fix this, James! Please, God. Please, not my Nicholas.” The powerful explosion within

his chest erupted all at once. His vision blurred, his ears rang, all his blabbering added up to

nothing.

“Is he…?” He could not say that word. His husband was the kindest man he’d ever met.

Who on God’s green earth would want him…No! He wasn’t dead. If he was, Paul would feel

that in his heart; he’d know if he was.

“He’s been seriously injured, Paul. He was shot in the head. He was found and taken to

the University. The last thing I heard was that he was unconscious but stable. I couldn’t let the

street guys do this, tell you. I’m here to take you to him.”

Not dead! Oh, thank you, God. Okay, this he may be able to do. Shot? He was shot in the

head? He was with…

“James, where’s my son? They were together. Is my son at the hospital?”

James shook his head. “When we found Nicholas, he was alone. Are you sure they were

together?”

“Am I sure? Of course I’m sure!” he snapped. “They left together to go shopping and see

a show downtown. Where did you find Nicholas?”

“A patrol unit found him beside Christian’s car, in the alley at 6

th

and Broadway.”

“Oh, good God, they were in an alley? In that area? What the fuck were they thinking?

Where in the hell are the men I hired to watch them?” What did it matter what they were

thinking? His husband was in the hospital with a bullet wound to the head, and his son was

missing!

“Oh shit! Lucca. I need to call him.”

“Come on. I’m here to take you to the hospital. You can call him on the way. I’ll put an

APB out on Christian.”

*****

Lucca sat frozen in time, images of his boy flying at him from every direction. He looked

blankly out the jet’s window into the dark sky.

When he’d received the call from Paul, he was in the middle of a meeting. He’d felt his

phone vibrating in his pocket and almost ignored it, as he was very close to tying up a new deal.

Something inside nagged at him, however, to grab the call and to do it with all haste. He’d

excused himself and found a deserted hallway. When he looked at the caller ID, he gasped; Paul

never called him for idle chit chat.

“Excuse me, Master Lucca?”

Lucca blinked the tears away and looked at the young attendant. “Yes?”

“We’ll be landing soon. May I take your glass, please?”

Lucca nodded and turned away from his employee. Thank God he owned his own jet. If

he’d had to wait on a commercial flight, he’d still be in L.A.

“Rick, please have my car ready to go once we land. I’ll be headed straight to the

University.”

“Sir, I’ve actually arranged to have Anthony waiting on you. He has the company car on

the tarmac as we speak. I don’t think you’re in any condition to drive.”

Lucca snapped his head around and glared at the young man. Who the hell did he think

he was, telling him what he thought? His boy was missing, possibly…No! His soon to be father-

in-law had been shot in the head, and this young whelp had the nerve to tell him he wasn’t in any

condition to drive! A few deep breaths later, he simply nodded in agreement. Perhaps it wasn’t in

his best interest to drive after all.

“Thank you, Rick. Always one step ahead of me, aren’t you?”

Rick patted Lucca’s hard as stone shoulder. “We’re all praying for them, sir. Young

Master Christian will be located, and Master Nicholas has a team of the best doctors working on

him.”

“I pray to God you’re right,” because if he wasn’t, someone would pay dearly for this. If

his boy was not located and located soon, there’d be a storm unlike anything anyone had ever

seen. No one took what was his! And where the hell were the men he’d assigned to watch his

boy? No one had an answer worth listening to. How in the hell a young man and his father

managed to lose their bodyguards was anyone’s guess. Lame, flimsy excuses from the men were

all he’d had to listen to. His young lover had managed to elude the hired men again! Even after

the long chat Lucca had with them a few short weeks ago, when he’d been assured it wouldn’t

happen again, yet…here they were.

He’d stormed out of the building, not even bothering to let anyone in the conference

room know what was going on. He grabbed the first taxi and called his crew to get the jet ready.

He hadn’t allowed himself to let go of the force in his chest. There would be no time for that,

because he’d find his baby alive and well. Nicholas would be alright in a matter of days.

Dammit! Why hadn’t he listened to his imp when he’d begged to be taken to Italy

sooner? What the fuck happened out there? Whatever it was, Christian had known something

was going on and never shared it. Why?

“Dammit, baby, where are you? Who took you from me? What in the hell is goin’ on?”

Once they landed at the airport, Lucca climbed into the company SUV and was given a

police escort to the hospital. Apparently, Rick had thought of everything. He said nothing the

entire ride. His brain was too busy trying to sort out who could have done this, and why.

When he arrived at the hospital, he was blindly led to the ER waiting room where Paul

sat, surrounded by staff and friends, yet still seeming so alone.

They spotted each other at the same time. Paul jumped up and almost ran into Lucca’s

waiting arms. Nothing was said by either man for several moments. They needed each other;

they needed the connection they shared between just the two of them. Someone, Lucca didn’t

know who, led them into a room so they could speak in private.

Lucca ignored his surroundings. He held his breath to control the tears and anger while he

watched and waited for his future father-in-law to bring himself under control. They sat side by

side, holding hands to give each other strength.

“They shot him in the head, Lucca. Someone took a fucking gun and shot my baby in the

head as if he were a rabid dog! They took my son from me, and God only knows where he is.”

Paul’s shoulders slumped, and his chin touched his chest as he struggled to put his thoughts in

order.

“One of the doctors came out a bit ago and said that, by some miracle, the bullet had

grazed Nicholas’s head but didn’t penetrate the skull, although the bullet did nick an artery. That,

along with the gash he received when his head hit the pavement, caused a fair amount of blood

loss. It just took so long for anyone to find him in that damned alley. He suffered a mild

concussion when he hit his head, so he might lose memory of that night, of our son being taken

from us. Thank God he’s healthy. He’ll recover in time, but when he hears about our son, he’ll

fall to pieces.” Paul wiped away the tears falling from Lucca’s eyes. “They’re sewing him up

now and putting the rest in his and God’s hands. The doctors can’t explain why he hasn’t

regained consciousness yet, other than to say that the shock of the incident has caused his mind

to shut down. Nicholas will wake up when he’s ready.

“Lucca, my son is missing. Whoever shot my husband, took my son. I want him back. I’ll

pay anything. I don’t care what it is. Please, Lucca, please go find my son for me.”

Oh yeah, those bodyguards were sure as hell fired. There would be no second chances

after this one. Those men would be lucky if they could get a job working at a gas station after

this.

Where in the hell are you, baby? He’d tried to call Christian’s cell several times, but the

calls went straight to voice mail each time. Hearing his boy’s bright, perky voice nearly tore his

heart from his chest.

He nodded, afraid to open his mouth, certain that if he did, he’d start sobbing and

wouldn’t be able to stop. He needed to keep his thoughts clear to face this. He needed his boy!

And Paul needed his husband and son.

“Lucca, they’ll be okay. We’ll find him, right?”

Lucca tried to give the man some ray of hope; he tried to smile in spite of the hell they

were thrown into, but he couldn’t. He felt the tears well up in his eyes, those hot as hell tears. He

didn’t blink, because they’d fall if he did. He would not give in to despair. His boy wasn’t dead,

and Nicholas would be okay; it was all going to be fine. He just needed to hold on to that

thought. After this, he was taking his boy out of this state, and they’d live on an island where no

one could hurt him again.

“Right? Lucca?”

Lucca cleared his throat as he tightly grasped Paul’s trembling hand. “I’ll do everything I

can to bring him home. I promise.”

“Had you noticed lately that Christian had been acting different? Do you think he knew

something was going on?”

Lucca nodded. He sure as hell did. No matter how many times he’d tried to sit with

Christian and ask him what was going on, what was wrong, the boy refused to get into it. Lucca

had known something was bothering him, yet the brat refused to share it. Instead, he laughed it

off, saying it was nothing; it was just paranoia. Fuck! Why hadn’t he pushed Christian harder to

tell him what was going on? Any good lover, partner, boyfriend would demand to be told. Why

hadn’t he?

“Lucca, do you know something?”

“No. I wish to God I did, though. He’s been acting a little odd lately, but I thought it was

just all the excitement of going back to Italy for the holidays. He asked me if we could go early

this year, and I said I couldn’t. He seemed upset but let it go. You know how he is. I’ve noticed

the changes in him, but I kept shaking it off, thinking it was just something small. I had no

fucking idea it would lead to anything like this. I figured if it was something he couldn’t handle,

he’d tell me or one of you. Do you think Christian told Nicholas something? Is it possible

whoever did this could also be the cause of Christian’s odd behavior?”

“I wish I had a clue. Nicholas tells me everything; even things I’m not so sure I want to

know. If there was something bothering Christian, and he told Nicholas, I know that Nicholas

would run to me with it. He’s our son; we know what the other does, period. There are no secrets

when it comes to him.”

“I thought as much. James put an APB out on him. We don’t think he was killed. If so,

why would they take him? I hope to God they didn’t take him out of state before the APB was

placed.”

“Find those bastards, Lucca. Find them and bury them. I’ll be here.”

“Keep me posted on Nicholas. The second he comes to, I want to know.”

“You’ll be one of the first. Hopefully, he’ll wake soon and will be able to tell us who did

this and where our son is.”

*****

He tried to wrestle free of the claustrophobic shroud that enveloped his mind. Panic

unlike anything he’d ever known, blasted through him like a fire to dry timber.

Someone laughed. A very familiar, cruel, and twisted laugh from his past set Christian’s

hair on end. Oh, dear God, this could not be happening to him. He didn’t want to open his eyes;

he didn’t want to see his worst nightmare come to life. This had to be a dream; this wasn’t real.

He was safe at home, wrapped in Lucca’s arms, and soon they’d be getting up and starting their

day together. They were leaving for Italy today! His parents would be following in just a few

days.

Someone laughed again, and Christian felt his stomach knot up and spin around. He

squeezed his eyes tighter and tried to shut out that evil sound. Out of nowhere, someone grabbed

hold of his hair and yanked his head back; then he felt someone’s lips meet his, and he tried

moving his head away to escape the foulness of it. Those cruel lips didn’t belong to his Lucca.

Christian moaned from the pain in his scalp and the cruel, demeaning kiss that devoured him. A

tongue was forced into his mouth, bypassing the restraint that had been placed there, and he

gagged from the attack.

He was given no time to assess the situation; all he knew was someone was assaulting

him. His eyes opened in fear and he tried to pull away, but he was bound. A quick look told him

he was in a small, bare room and bound to a cot.

He tried pulling away from the monster who began groping him through his pants but

cried out when he couldn’t move. The only part of him not restrained was his head, and Dwight

held that as still as he could. Christian tried biting him, tried clamping down, but Dwight was

smarter than that; he had something shoved in Christian’s mouth. All he could do was to wait

until the assault was over.

Dread filled his mind, nausea hit his stomach, and despair claimed his heart. Memories he

didn’t want flooded his thoughts. If he didn’t remember, they wouldn’t be true. He shoved the

thoughts away and focused on where he was and why. He had no answer for either. Finally,

Dwight pulled back and released his hair. Christian looked wildly around the room he was in.

It was small and dimly lit, with dark walls and no windows that he could see; a single

army-type cot was the room’s only furnishing, and it smelled so badly it made him sick.

“I’ve missed you, darling.”

Christian looked over at him and rolled his eyes.

“What? You haven’t missed me? It’s been five years since you and I have been together,

baby. That’s a long time for two lovers to be apart, don’t you think?”

Dwight pulled the leather strap out of Christian’s mouth so he could talk.

“What do you want, Dwight? What in the hell are you doing?”

He pulled against his restraints, rattling the chains and wincing as they cut into his skin.

Those cold, evil eyes and the sneer on his face were two things Christian did not miss.

“You, Christian. I want you. You should have been mine all those years ago, but instead,

you ran off and hooked up with that Italian fuck. Well, I’m just taking back what’s mine.”

Christian looked at him as if Dwight had lost his mind. “Where am I?”

“You’re with me, and that’s all that matters now, lover. I own you. You’re my personal

slave now, or should I say, you will soon be trained to be my personal slave as you should have

been five years ago.”

Dwight leaned in over the top of him, and Christian moved his head to the side, fighting

against him. Dwight laughed and sat up.

“Yep, you’re in desperate need of training. Soon, my beautiful little one, you’ll crave the

taste of my kiss.”

Christian glared at Dwight, shaking his head, but that only made Christian’s head hurt

worse than it had when he’d come to with Dwight’s tongue halfway down his throat.

“You can’t do this! Let me go, you sonofabitch!” he screamed, trying to keep the fear out

of his voice.

He looked around the room, looking for a way out; he needed out. His fathers would be…

“Oh, Christ, no!” He bucked wildly against the chains that secured him to the cot.

“Father! No!” The memories of that night came back to him, engulfing him in fear and pain. A

hopeless pain and a sadness he’d never, ever felt in his life, consumed him; heart stopping pain,

gut twisting pain.

“You bastard! You killed him. Why, Dwight. Why?” He pulled and pulled, the chains

biting him back. “Dad!”

“Is dead…because of you. Now, shut the fuck up, or I’m going to give you a reason to

carry on like a five year old.”

Tears fell from Christian’s eyes and ran down his temples, soaking his hair; he started

hiccupping from the sobbing he gave into. He saw it all in his mind’s eye as clearly as if it was

happening once again. He saw his father on his knees. He saw the guy with the gun. He heard the

trigger being pulled. He heard the gun pop, and then…

“Lucca!! Help me! Oh my God, please, let me go. My dad! Please, he needs me.” The

cries tore through him, strangling him, and he couldn't get loose.

“You keep on whining,” Dwight threatened. “Keep on begging, and I’ll send them after

Lucca next. He’ll be dead before nightfall; is that what you want? Then I’ll order dear daddy

Paul’s death next. I will have you, Christian. Do you understand me?”

His father was dead because of him, and now the other two most important people in his

life were in danger; this was all his fault. Why hadn’t he told everyone that Dwight was back?

What good had come of keeping it to himself?

He looked at Dwight with as much hatred as he could muster in his eyes and screamed,

“Fuck you! Just kill us all, then. It’d be easier and a lot more pleasant than spending another

minute here with you!”

“Don’t push me, boy. I’ll do it; I’ll take them all out and leave you alive to suffer for the

rest of your life. Is that what you want?”

Christian drew small breaths, trying to stop crying. Dwight was crazy enough to do

exactly what he threatened. Good! Then none of them would be alive to suffer over the loss of

his father or his own disappearance. It was certain to drive his father Paul mad. Why? Oh damn,

why?

“I want you to let me go.”

Dwight laughed and ran his fingers through Christian’s damp hair. “Never, my beautiful

boy. Never. I lost you once. There will not be a second time. Do you remember the last night I

saw you before you escaped to Italy, the night you met your Wop lover? Tell me, did you fuck

him that night? Did you let him fuck you? Did you spread your…”

“Stop it! Don’t do this. I love him, Dwight. I love him. Don’t cheapen it.”

Dwight drew back, his nostrils flaring, his fists balled up in his lap, his eyes nothing but

dark pools of liquid fire.

Good! “I. Love. Him! It was never you. I allowed you to beat me time and time again. I

gave you so many chances to treat me right, yet you beat me. And I lied to my parents for you! I

kept secrets from Lucca about what you’d done to me, secrets that eat away at me because I

knew I’d lose him if he ever learned the truth. I kept them from having you arrested. I lied to

keep Lucca from having you killed, and you do this! Just let me go. Let me be there for them and

help them with my father’s passing.”

Dwight leaned low, just inches from Christian’s nose. His cold smile and hot breath

unnerved Christian, and he squirmed, trying to get away, but Dwight’s hand caught his jaw and

squeezed.

“Looks to me like they’ll mourn two. I will never let you go. Now shut up about it, or

you’ll be sorrier in more ways than you ever expected.”

Red. It was the color he saw. The dark gray of the room turned to blazing red, and it

threatened to consume him. He started shaking in anger, anger and fear and disbelief. How could

this be happening to him? To them? What did they ever do to deserve this? All he could hear in

his head was one word. You.

Yes, he was the one responsible for putting his family in this situation. Several months

before, Dwight had begun emailing him out of the blue. Not long after, Christian began

“coincidentally” running into him on campus. Christian had tried to ignore it, but the encounters

had always seemed to coincide with the times when he’d ditched his guards. It seemed as if

Dwight had been watching and knew exactly when to approach him. Initially, Dwight had just

been a silent presence, but eventually, he’d begun speaking to Christian, and the context of their

brief conversations was always the same—he’d tried to convince Christian that he’d changed,

that he’d received counseling for his anger issues. He tried to talk Christian into meeting for

coffee and talking, just a couple of old friends catching up. The more adamantly Christian had

refused the invitations, the more threatening and confrontational Dwight had become until

finally, Christian had simply started taking every possible precaution to avoid him altogether. If

he would have listened to Dwight months ago and gone to him of his own free will, his father

wouldn’t be dead.

“Please, Dwight, please don’t hurt them. Please let me go!”

“I will never let you go! You are mine; get used to it,” Dwight snarled.

Christian cried out, trying to thrash around on the cot. Inside him was a rage he’d never

felt before. He tried to fight against Dwight’s fingers as they played games from his cheek, down

to his chin, and back up again. As soon as those fingers neared his dry lips, Christian wasted no

time; he bit down and immediately recognized the coppery-rich taste of blood. His eyes opened

wide when he saw Dwight raise his fist, but didn’t have time to react. The punch was so

powerful, it rendered him unconscious immediately.

*****

The feeling of a great pressure between his shoulder blades woke him from his peaceful

slumber. He was sure his arms were being ripped out of their sockets; his shoulders were on fire,

and his head was pounding so hard that it hurt as it kept rhythm with his rapidly beating heart.

He forced his raw, tired eyes open and moaned in a desperate cry. They’d fucking gagged him!

That crazy bastard! Dwight had him hanging from the ceiling, his wrists enclosed in

leather, sheepskin lined cuffs that attached to chains from above.

Someone, he wasn’t able to see who, was told to raise him. Christian heard the sound of a

motor, followed by the rattle of chains. Almost immediately, he felt himself being jerked up by

his arms until only the tips of his toes touched the floor. The tighter the chains coiled, the more

his shoulders hurt. He gasped into the gag and tried to grab at the chain that held him off the

concrete floor. Oh, Jesus, what did he do to deserve this? His wild, green eyes tried to take

everything in at once, finally settling on the guy who’d killed his father. Oh, dear God.

The guy looked at him with so much malice it made him shiver. Christian began panting

behind the cloth in his mouth that tasted like sour milk and smelled like rotten socks. He was

certain the guy who’d shot his father was going to torture him to death. He tried squirming

around, tried to take the pressure off his shoulders, but all that did was make the situation worse.

The pain grew with each passing second.

The malevolence radiating from that guy’s eyes scared him in ways he never thought

possible. Evil Eyes nodded and the motor came back to life, pulling Christian up until his feet

were completely off the cold floor. He was now literally hanging by his arms, his full weight

supported only by his sore shoulders and wrists. He took a shallow breath and moaned. Whatever

that crazy bastard had in store for him, he knew it would either end in death or a wish for it. The

gag in his mouth was like a piece of cardboard stealing away what little moisture there was.

He could see the people talking below him, but he didn’t hear a word, because the blood

pounded in his ears and robbed him of that pleasantry. They all looked at him and smiled.

Slowly, he lifted his head and looked up at the chains that suspended him from the

ceiling. He tried pulling himself up once again, trying to relieve the strain on his arms and

shoulders. He needed to make some sense of where he was and why this was happening. His

head fell forward; the effort to hold it up was too great anymore.

The four people below him continued to stare; they just looked up and watched him for

what felt like hours. His full body weight was being supported by his wrists and shoulders again;

he no longer held the chains with his hands to lighten the pressure. He yelled behind the gag, not

only out of pain but out of fear and frustration as well.

This room was used to torture people; he knew that now. Never in his life had he felt the

excruciating pain that he was feeling in that moment. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could

hang there before his shoulders dislocated. Sweat from his hair and nose dripped down his face

and ran onto the gag. In his mind he shouted one word—Lucca.

Suddenly, he felt the jerking of the chain on his wrists again. He panted through the gag,

every muscle in his body crying out as tremors of pain shuddered through his ramshackle body.

“Answer me, pretty boy!”

All Christian could do was to turn his head to the guy with the evil eyes; the guy who’d

killed his father. He glared at him. He swore at him and cursed him, but all the venom was

absorbed by that damn gag in his mouth. The only answer that fuck would get from him was to

go fuck himself. The tears clouded his vision; he was thankful for that.

“Do you like pain, boy?”

Like pain? Is that what he’d asked? Who in their right mind liked pain? Did the dumbass

think Christian was just going to nod his head and beg for it? This had to be some sort of twisted

fucking joke. The bastard would be waiting the rest of his life for that answer. Christian would

die before they got anything from him.

“You better answer me, boy! I’ll cut your damn balls off and make you a little girl, how

about that?”

Christian stopped breathing for several seconds. Would he really do that? No second

guessing on it, yes he would. That fuck had killed his father. Slowly, he shook his head; he didn’t

want to move any more than he had to.

“Oh, my sweet, pretty young thing, you’ll come to love pain. You’ll crave it by the time

I’m done with you. You’ll look so pretty begging me to hurt you. You’ll be on your knees

craving my whip, begging me to leave my marks on your lovely, golden skin. Oh yeah, you sure

will. You’ll beg me to fuck you, boy, and I intend to fuck you hard. That sweet, pure white

ass...oh yeah, I’ll have it.”

Christian felt like he was going to throw up; he had to keep swallowing it back, or he’d

choke with the gag in his mouth. He lifted his chin from his chest and let his head fall back,

closing his eyes against the harsh reality of what he’d heard. This was anything but a game.

These people meant serious business.

“You’re gonna make us a fortune. A pretty boy who gets off on pain? I can’t wait to get

you all trained up. Just look at those pretty eyes, would ya? Imagine those eyes hooded in pain

and ecstasy. Imagine that sweet mouth begging for someone to fuck his tight little ass while

taking a cock down his throat. He’ll be pretty on a leash too, walking on all fours and sleeping in

a corner. How many of you here would like to fuck this one? If you all behave, you’ll all have

that chance. Now, step to the side; I’m going to start training this slut.”

It was then that Christian noticed the whip in the guy’s hand. It reminded him of a long,

black snake just lying in wait to strike its next victim. He watched in shock as the guy raised his

arm. He mumbled no into the gag and watched in absolute horror as that snake made an arc

toward his very vulnerable body. He heard the air hiss all around him, quickly followed by the

whip’s kiss across the length of his back.

He cried out but the gag stole his voice. He begged the pig below to stop his onslaught,

but his cries went unheard. Each time he heard the hiss, a sharp pain followed, from his

shoulders to his ankles. Each strike burned into him more than the last until his whole body felt

like it was on fire. He screamed and begged for the whipping to stop; he was out of his mind

with pain. It was like being cut with hundreds of little razors at once.

“Please, God, please take me to my father,” he prayed before giving into the blessed

darkness.

The monster with the whip drove himself harder, expertly whipping Christian’s lifeless

body until his entire back was covered in angry, red welts and blood.

“Master, he’s unconscious. He looks dead, Sir.”

“He’s bleeding, Master.”

Evan ignored the two slaves who stood on each side of Christian’s body. Instead, he

looked behind them and grinned. He winked at the only person in the world he loved, then turned

back to his creation hanging there so prettily for him. “Hand me my cane,” he demanded.

“Master?”

“Now! Do not question me, boy!”

“Yes, Master,” the young slave boy said sadly.

“Get the hose too.”

*****

“Enough! What in the hell are you doing?” Dwight glared at his brother in disgust.

“This insolent boy is undergoing training just as the others do when we get them.”

Dwight walked closer, his eyes pinned to the unconscious boy hanging from the chains.

The boy’s head rested on his sweaty, pallid chest as though in sleep. His hair hung down, hiding

the perfect features that Dwight knew all too well. “Take him down. You’re going too far in too

short a time. You know better, Evan.”

“Our agreement stands, Dwight. You said if I shot and killed this boy’s father that I’d be

able to train him for you. I want this pretty boy perfect for you. You agreed, Dwight. I’ve held

my end of the bargain so far.”

“I appreciate that; however, my dear, I will not have his lovely body marred. The last boy

you gifted to me died due to your training methods.”

Slave Peter had looked so much like Christian it was eerie. He’d had the same silky,

honey-blonde hair, the same perfect, heart shaped lips, and the same lithe body. That boy had

been made for him, just as Christian was, but Evan had gotten jealous. Again. Because Evan was

the initial trainer to their slaves, he had first crack at training the very willing and unwilling boys.

Slave Peter had been a hundred percent slave material. He’d craved direction; he begged

for it. When Dwight told Evan he’d wanted the boy as his exclusive slave, Evan had argued that

they’d lose money. Dwight had then offered to buy the boy with his own money, but Evan had

denied the request saying that it was senseless. The next day, the boy was dead.

“I know this boy, Evan. He’ll come around. Do not scar him.” He’d waited patiently for

five long years to claim his boy. If Christian was to be killed, Dwight would be the one to do it.

Evan didn’t have the right. Christian hadn’t left Evan, he’d left Dwight, and though it was the

boy’s parents’ fault…well, them and that filthy Wop…his slave boy had left him, and Evan had

no rights at all where this one was concerned. He and Christian had a lot of time to make up for.

Dwight had made such great strides with him back then.

The kid had learned to keep his eyes downcast; he’d learned to speak only loud enough

for Dwight and no one else to hear, and he spoke only when asked a direct question. He’d

learned to take the pain and turn it to pleasure. The last day they’d been with one another, he

finally had the kid kneeling beside him at the pool. He’d even learned to reply with Sir. Then in

one night, it’d all gone to hell.

Well, it would never happen again. Christian would never be found. Christian was his, in

every sense of the word, until the time came that Dwight no longer wanted him. Then he’d give

the boy to Evan to do with as he pleased. Until then, the boy needed someone strong to control

him, to teach him how to give in to his natural urges to submit.

Dwight hated Christian for what he’d done to him, but he didn’t want him dead. He

wanted Christian to suffer instead. He’d suffer for leaving his Master every damn day for the rest

of his life.

Dwight smiled, very pleased with how easy it had been to take the boy that night. With

the death of his father, the boy would take him seriously. He couldn’t have made it turn out more

perfectly if he’d tried.

Evan studied Dwight, reading all the pain and anger and bitterness in his brother’s face.

“He will be perfect for you, or he will die. I want you happy. You deserve to have the best. You

picked him out years ago, and now he’s yours for the taking. Don’t you think you’ve suffered

enough at his hands? Now it’s his turn. I owe you this, brother. You suffered too many years for

me at our father’s hands.”

Dwight closed his eyes against the painful memories. Night after night, their stepfather

would get their mother drunk. After she’d passed out, he’d find his way to her sons’ room. He

took a breath and shoved the memory back where it belonged.

“Let me train him for you as you trained my slave for me. He’ll be perfect. I just need

time with him. He’ll come to accept you as his Master in no time. Besides, I owe you this one,

and you don’t even have to pay for him.”

Dwight signed to the two pets standing just under Christian. “Take the boy down

immediately.” He looked at his younger brother. “I do appreciate you; you know that, right? I

love you and trust you, Evan, but this boy here has my heart; he always has. If you kill him, I’ll

never forgive you.”

“I won’t kill him. At least, not on purpose, I promise.”

Dwight nodded. “Pets, take the boy down and tend to him. I want him in cage three.

Evan, come with me. We have a few things to talk about with regards to our next shipment.”

“Master Dwight.”

“Yes?”

“Will you allow him water when he wakes, Sir?”

“No water, no food, he’s in training. He must earn those things just as you two did.”

“Yes, Master,” the boy responded sadly.

“Is there a problem, slave?”

“No, Master, no problem. It’s just that he’s been with us for two days now, and he’s had

nothing.”

“And as you were told, he’ll have to earn those privileges. Now, I will not hear another

word about it. Will I?”

The young slave lowered his head even more if that was possible, and answered quietly.

“No, Master Evan. I’m sorry, Sir.”

“For questioning your betters, you are to report to me in my quarters in two hours.”

The boy’s face paled. “Yes, Master Evan.”

“Now, do as Master Dwight instructed.”

“Yes, Master.”

Chapter Five

“Lucca.”

Lucca looked into the eyes of his oldest friend, his ex-lover, his ex-Dom and let

everything go he’d been holding in for the past three days. He tried to walk to greet him, to greet

the only other man he had ever loved, but found himself unable to move. He didn’t even want to

begin to imagine how Carl had gotten into his home through all the security measures he had in

place.

“They took my boy,” he said. His voice gave away how exhausted he was, how

emotionally drained he felt.

Carl opened his arms, taking his former lover into his embrace and holding him tightly.

“I’m here. It’s okay.”

Lucca broke. He gave into the grief that had been eating at him since he’d received the

call that his boy had disappeared. He sobbed in Carl’s arms, allowing the other man to hold him

up and keep him safe, if only for a moment. He didn’t know how long Carl held him. All he

knew was that he needed to let go.

“We’ll find him. We’ll find your boy. Sit down and let me get you a cool cloth; I think I

saw the guest bathroom around the corner.”

Lucca sat on the loveseat, rocking back and forth and staring off into space, his mind

filled with the memories that haunted him around the clock and robbed him of sleep and life. It

wasn’t fair that Christian was in this situation. He was an angel; the boy did nothing bad to

anyone or anything, and yet…now his father lay trapped within his own body, unable to tell them

who’d done this to them. Was there no justice?

Several minutes later, Carl returned with a cold towel, and Lucca used it to wipe his face.

He looked at his former lover, relieved that he was there with him. For three years, they’d been

an intense item and one everyone thought would last. That was before Carl’s job started

demanding more of him, more than Lucca was prepared to give. Carl was an undercover ops

agent for the US Government; he was on the run and had been for a couple of years. His ex-boss

had tried to have him, along with his partner and his partner’s brothers, killed over a mission that

had gone wrong. No one knew where Carl and the others hid, and no one wanted to know. If the

government caught wind of their association, there’d be hell to pay by all parties. Carl and the

others often worked to solve the hardcore cases that no one else wanted and helped the

underdogs.

Once Lucca realized his friends on the force, the FBI, and the PIs had all come up empty,

he’d messaged Carl for help. Even though he knew he was putting the man in a precarious

position, Lucca was simply at a loss and had nowhere else to turn. If anyone could find his boy,

the man standing here with him could.

“Did you come on your own?”

Carl handed Lucca a glass with scotch in it. “I did. The others are on assignment. If I

can’t locate him by next week, Tony and Ryan will be here to lend a hand. They’re off on a small

job in Ireland.”

“Next week? Carl, he could be dead by then. I can’t wait until next week. He can’t wait

until then. I need him now! Not next week! They’ll destroy him, for God’s sake.”

Carl brushed his hands through his hair and sat on the arm of Lucca’s chair. “Lucca, he

won’t be dead. You can’t think that way. I thought I taught you better than this. You focus on the

bad, and what happens?”

“Don’t start with me, Carl. Dammit, my boy is out there! He’s alone and scared. I feel it

here,” he said, pointing to his heart. “Christian is a good boy; he has a heart of solid fucking

gold. He’d give anyone the shirt off his back. He’s a happy kid, and you’re sitting there, calmly

telling me that not only did you come here alone, but it will take over two weeks to locate him?

It will kill him if it takes that long!

“What if it’s already too late? Look at what those animals did to his father. No doubt

Christian was forced to watch them shoot that poor man in the head, and what do you think

that’ll do to him? He’ll continue to relive it until he breaks, and there’ll be no one there to fix

him. He needs me! I called you because…”

“Lucca!” Carl snapped. He rose to his full six-feet-four-inches and kept his eyes pinned

to his ex-lover, his ex-sub. “How many days have you been like this, Lucca?”

Lucca looked up at the man who’d enabled him to become the man he was today. Before

Carl, he’d been lost; he hadn’t been able to find an outlet to satisfy his needs, his desires. He

hadn’t known how to control his erratic thinking, not until Carl had taught him about submission

and Dominance.

Carl had taken him in and trained him, had guided him with a firm, loving hand. They

grew strong as a team. Lucca trusted Carl with his life just as Carl trusted him. Lucca no longer

ran from situations he didn’t like, understand, or couldn’t control. Carl had taught him how to

cope, how to lead, how to submit when necessary. Lucca had always been secure with himself

and his sexuality. There had always been a constant fear, however, of someone waiting to do him

harm because of his parents’ lavish life style, because of their status, or just because he was who

he was. The extra precautions they’d taken to protect Lucca had often driven him to rebel, to live

on the edge, and to live as dangerously as he possibly could. Carl had saved him from himself.

“Carl, I need him.”

“Answer me, boy!” He looked at Lucca with hard, unwavering eyes.

Lucca stood and turned away from the chair. He took in great gulps of air, trying to

control the urge to lash out. He stared at the picture of Christian and him hanging on the wall,

taken last year when they were in Ireland.

“Get out of my house. I’ll find him on my own.”

“Lucca…”

Lucca spun around, fire in his eyes. “No! I called you because I knew if anyone could

find him, it’d be you. But no, you come here wanting me to drop to my fucking knees and

worship you. I don’t need a goddamned scene or a Master. I need him!”

“You need to focus!” Carl snapped. He rolled his eyes and drew a steady breath. “That’s

what’s missing here, Lucca. Your head is all over the place. You haven’t slept in days, and I’ll

guess you haven’t eaten either. When was the last time you had a shower or left the damn house

to do anything productive to help that boy?” He kept his voice firm, his eyes level, and his

posture on guard. “Now, I want an answer; how many days, Lucca?”

Lucca looked into Carl’s gray eyes and immediately lowered his own; those old feelings

of being safe and loved came roaring back.

“Too many days, Sir.”

“Lucca, come to me,” Carl said, lowering his voice. “Ah, not that way,” he said when

Lucca attempted to walk to him. “On your knees, eyes down.”

Lucca hesitated before doing as he was told. He fought hard against this, against what he

needed. Carl had always known best. He’d known what Lucca had needed then, just like he

knew Lucca needed this now. Almost at once, his mind settled down, his heart stopped racing,

and he was breathing without difficulty. For the first time in days, he felt at peace.

“Sir.”

Carl reached out and touched the top of Lucca’s head. “You’re okay, Lucca. Close your

eyes and think only about breathing, nothing else.”

“Car…”

“That’s one. I said to close your eyes and think only about breathing.”

Lucca let out a breath and closed his eyes. How could he stop thinking about his boy?

That’s all he’d been thinking of since the night he’d disappeared. His life revolved around his

green eyed imp. He couldn’t stop thinking about him. This was ridiculous! He was being told not

to think about his baby.

“Lucca, that’s two. I said to focus only on breathing. The more you fight me, the harder

this is going to be. Let everything go. Think only of breathing. In and out. In and out. Clear your

head, in and out,” he said, quieting his voice.

Lucca spent the next several minutes doing as he was told. He was told to breath and

that’s it. No thinking. Thinking hurt. Thinking of those bright green eyes, that sweet as fuck

smile, the creamy skin—it all hurt like hell. He gasped at the feeling of Carl’s hand on his head,

petting him, calming him. He lost track of time, his limbs grew heavy, and his head finally

cleared enough that he could relax. Time slipped away, and in the next instant, he found himself

drunk with exhaustion and in his room, lying on the bed that seemed too big now that his baby

wasn’t in it.

“Lie down, Lucca,” Carl said in a low and demanding voice. “I’m right here.”

“I can’t do this. I can’t sleep when he needs me. I can’t help him if I’m asleep.”

Carl stood in front of Lucca and gently pushed him down onto the soft mattress. He tried

to get up, but Carl’s powerful arms lay across Lucca’s chest, preventing him from doing much

more than being still.

“Shh, let it go, baby. In and out, in and out.”

He laid his head down on the pillow, asking, no begging, Carl, begging his Dom to

release him. He was met with a wall of disapproval and stopped the struggle. The pillow

swallowed his heavy head, dragging him under. He opened his eyes in alarm and looked up to

see Carl sitting beside him, looking down at him with so much love it took his breath away.

“Carl.”

“Shh, close your eyes. In and out. Let it go. That’s it; that’s good,” Carl whispered just as

Lucca gave up the fight and fell into a dreamless slumber.

Carl grabbed a blanket from the end of the bed and covered him.

“Oh, Lucca,” he sighed, gently sweeping the man’s hair off his forehead. “I’ve missed

you. Now, let’s find that boy of yours before you lose your mind,” he whispered.

Quietly he closed the door to the bedroom and stood in the middle of the hallway,

wondering which way to go. The housekeeper had left a map out for him, but he’d forgotten that

downstairs in the kitchen. Now, where was the kitchen?

Chapter Six

“Lucca! Lucca, please help me. It hurts.”

“Hey, I think he’s dreaming. No, he’s having a nightmare. Oh, the poor, pretty one. He’s

so s-s-s…scared.”

“Oh? You think? Shit, Sebastian, you’re a goddamned genius.”

Sebastian peered across the square room and glared at the slave in the cage. “Well jeez,

B-b-brent…I was just…”

“Stating the obvious. Yeah, yeah, I know.”

“Brent, leave him alone.”

“Then keep him quiet; you know what Master will do. All that stuttering he does drives

Master Evan nuts.”

“He can’t help it,” Joshua mumbled, turning his head to look at Sebastian in the cage next

to him. That sweet, innocent kid has no damn business in a place like this.

“He’s pr-pretty. Don’t you think, Josh? I feel so bad for him. He’s in pain. I know he is.

Remember when the M-m-masters whipped me in the be-be-beginning? I knew I was dying. My

whole b-b-body was on fire, and nothing you did h-h-helped it. I remember…”

“Seb, shoosh already. Your constant chattering does nothing to help the situation, now

does it?”

Sebastian ignored Brent and looked over at Joshua with concern in his eyes. He smiled

then and said, “Well, m-m-maybe the sound of friendly voices will help him. I know that when

you talked me through the w-w-worst of th-th-the p-p-pain, it seemed to h-h-help me a little.

Like you warmed my heart, and it h-h-healed me from the in-in-inside. Oh, when the M-m-

masters finally allowed you to put that c-c-cooling cream on m-m-me, it was like having a piece

of French S-s-silk Pie. Heaven, it was heaven. Do you think we’ll ever be allowed to have some

p-p-pie? I wonder what s-s-season it is right now. Will there be snow or rain? Oh, I do miss the

rain. I miss…”

“Seb, you’re getting all worked up, baby. Slow down and relax.”

“But Joshua, just l-l-look at him, he’s not doing well. I w-w-wonder who this L-L-Lucca

fellow is? He’s been c-c-calling for him all night, and he’s never once opened his eyes. The c-c-

cage is too little; he can’t s-s-stretch his long legs. He must be at least five-nine, don’t you think?

He’s thin, though. I w-w-wonder why he’s so thin? I don’t think he plays sports. M-m-maybe he

plays an in-instrument, or maybe he’s an artist. Or j-j-just maybe he’s a writer! W-w-which do

you think he is?”

“He’s a slave. Just like we are,” Brent snapped.

“He’s a pretty one, nonetheless. I w-w-wonder which one of the M-m-masters will take

him. I’m sure he’ll sell fast. Hopefully, he gets a nice M-m-master.”

“Seb, please try to control yourself, love. I don’t want the Masters coming in here to

punish you. You know how much that hurts me.”

Sebastian smiled at Joshua and nodded before he looked back at Christian. “Joshua, do

you think we’ll ever be p-p-pets? We’ve been s-s-slaves for a long time. I just want to sleep on

my back with my legs s-s-stretched. Oh, j-j-just think about it. To lie beside you, we would be

able to finally s-s-spoon. I l-l-like to be in your arms. I feel the safest there, even when we have

to put a scene on for the M-m-masters. I love being in your arms. I volunteer for the shows, and

because I do, they allow me to pick my p-p-partner. That’s why I always pick you. You don’t

mind do you?

“I w-w-wish we were free. Then we would have our own place and jobs. You could

finally w-w-work in a law firm like you were trained to do, and I could work in a bookstore just

like you p-p-promised me when M-m-master’s guest p-p-practiced his knife play on me.

Remember that? Jesus, that hurt so bad, Joshua. I felt each slice. He s-s-said it was supposed to

take me to a higher p-p-place if I’d just relax and let it happen. But it was like fire, and when I b-

b-begged him to s-s-stop, he said I wasn’t playing it right and c-c-cut me more. Do you

remember the blood? I thought I was dying, and then I p-p-passed out and woke up to a stream of

cold water hitting my body. It hurt so b-b-bad.”

“Baby, please don’t think about that right now. You’re getting yourself all worked up,

and I can’t hold you to make it better.”

Sebastian pulled his sheet to his chin and looked back at Joshua. “W-w-why are we here?

I don’t want to be a slave or a pet or a colt or any of those things. It’s getting so hard to keep p-p-

pretending. I know you s-s-said we must just so we’d be able to live, but w-w-what if they get us

t-t-trained the way they want and sell us off and s-s-separate us? Josh, I couldn’t live without

you.”

Joshua closed his teary eyes and silently cried with the one he loved. Sebastian was all

he’d ever wanted in someone. Full of life, innocence, and kindness, he was all of that and more.

He’d fallen for the twenty-three year old the moment he’d laid eyes on him all those months ago.

Had it been that long? He tried to mentally keep the days marked, but there were days he lost

through no fault of his own. It was the fault of the sadistic bastards who held them all as

prisoners.

He looked back to Sebastian and tried to smile for him, to give him hope, but it was so

damn hard when he himself had so little of it. Joshua had one short term goal to accomplish, and

that was to get both Sebastian and Brent out of this alive. He tried so hard to hold onto the belief

that they’d get out; he prayed that it was just a matter of time. Until then, he had to do what he

could to stay focused and keep his boy full of faith. They’d be rescued. One day his people

would find him, and when they did, he’d be the one to end the lives of the monsters in this place.

“I couldn’t live without you either, Seb, so please stop chattering. It’s almost time for

them to start their day.”

“Joshua, I love you.”

“I love you too.”

For a few long minutes the room was quiet. All twenty cages held sleeping slaves, and

not a one of them moved. Well, with the exception of the new kid.

“Josh? I don’t like serving M-m-master Evan. He s-s-scares the hell out of me. He hurts

m-m-me.”

Joshua couldn’t stop his hand from balling up into a fist. He dug his nails painfully into

the palm of his hand, drawing blood. Of all the shit they faced every day of their lives in this

bizarre existence, this was the absolute worst for him. Knowing the one he loved was being taken

against his will, over and over again, in perverted and disgusting ways was killing him slowly,

day by day. Sebastian didn’t deserve this life! None of these kids did. Maybe he’d feel different

if this was the life they had chosen for themselves, if this was what they’d wanted, but from what

he’d been able to gather from the others, with the exception of a few of the pets and colts, none

of them wanted this.

“Baby, please just do what I said. Okay?”

“I try. I really do try. But f-f-finding my happy place when I don’t know what that is

anymore is very hard for me, especially when M-m-master Evan makes me take him and one of

his personal slaves at the s-s-same time. It hurts. H-h-he said the other day that’s what we were

going to do t-t-today. He said I’d get three of them off, or I’d be w-w-whipped. I get sick to my

stomach, and my h-h-heart pounds so hard that it makes my ribs hurt.”

The tears in Joshua’s eyes ran freely down the sides of his face and onto his newly earned

pillow. How he hated Thursdays! “Let’s hope the new boy keeps them busy for a bit,” he

mumbled.

“Oh no! N-n-no, Joshua, he’s already in enough p-p-pain. Look at him. No, I can’t have

that. I’ll beg M-m-master for my t-t-turn if that’s the case. I wonder where they got ‘im? I think

back now to the n-n-night they got me, and I w-w-wonder if anyone looked for me? I know my

mom threw me away, but my b-b-brother or my friends? Do you think they w-w-worry about me

like I w-w-worry about them?”

Oh yeah, the day they managed to get away from this fucking hell, the first thing he’d do

is find Seb’s mother. The boy had shared a little bit about his life, and what he’d chosen to share

made Joshua’s skin crawl and his blood boil. As a young boy, Seb had been abducted by his

mother and was kept in a storm shelter until the day she’d sold him to Dwight. When Joshua

found the bitch, and he would find her, he planned to send her filthy black soul back to Hell

where it belonged.

“You’re a sweet one, Seb, always worried about everyone else. But please, baby, think of

yourself more often. We need to stay alive.”

“I f-f-feel bad for him. I c-c-cried when M-m-master Evan whipped him. He was s-s-so s-

s-scared. His eyes grew so wild, and when that whip struck him, I thought he would die. He was

shaking, but he never begged. What a brave young man. D-d-don’t you think? M-m-maybe he

was in shock. M-m-maybe that’s why. The next time he probably will. It’s degrading to beg in

front of others. I know cuz when I make M-m-master Evan mad, he loves to hear me beg, but I

won’t do it until I can’t take the pain anymore.”

“Babe, you’re doing it again. Try to work on your story awhile.”

“I w-w-wish I had paper and pens. It’d be easier to remember where I left off. Sometimes

if I have sessions with the M-m-masters or their p-p-pets, I sort of forget where I’m at, and it

takes me days to refocus.”

“I know, Seb, I know. Try to do it for me, huh? Do your story. When they get here you be

quiet, no matter what. Okay? For me.”

“Okay, Joshua. I’ll work on the story, but if they h-h-hurt pretty baby, I can’t promise I’ll

stay focused.”

“Do your best.”

“I always try for you. Oh, look! I think he’s waking up. P-p-poor baby can’t move. Oh,

Joshua, I h-h-hate these cages. They should be bigger so we can at least stretch out.”

“Seb, please, do your story.” Joshua looked over and watched him until he saw the boy’s

eyes drifting shut. The little chatterbox that Seb had become since they met never failed to make

him see just how special life really was. His stuttering was getting worse, though; the longer they

were held prisoners, and the more sick shit they did to Sebastian, the more it caused the boy to

regress. He couldn’t seem to stop himself from talking fast and stuttering. Joshua turned his head

and glanced at the main door to the large room they were kept in, hoping they’d get fed today.

*****

Christian didn’t want to leave the warm body that surrounded him; Lucca’s sweet smell

filled his nose, leaving his heart thrilled and his dick hard. Moaning, he moved his lower body

around, seeking contact with his man’s solid body.

Consciousness pulled at him harder, working to dump him back to the strange new world

he found himself in, a world without his fathers and Lucca. He was alone, alone to face whatever

sick shit Dwight had planned for him. He slowly opened his heavy eyelids and tried to stretch his

sore legs, but they had nowhere to go. He found that he was curled on his side, his knees bent to

his stomach.

He closed his raw, scratchy eyes and drifted off. The tingles between his shoulder blades

made him tense, restless, and sweaty with fear. His stomach felt like it was full of angry

butterflies all trying to get out at the same time. Dread swarmed over him until he shook with a

force that made his teeth chatter. He tried to take a deep breath and coughed; his throat was so

unbelievably dry, his mouth, his teeth—he just wanted a drink. Oh, and some toothpaste, a

toothbrush, and mouthwash.

Mouthwash led to thoughts of Lucca’s lips; those lovely, soft, powerful lips that gave him

goose bumps with every kiss. When Lucca looked at him with those black eyes, with an animal

magnetism that drew him in, he could not turn away. Lucca’s looks were intense and bold to the

point of nearly making him come, without ever saying a word to him. God, he missed him so

much. He wanted nothing more than to feel those powerful arms wrap themselves around him

and hold him until he had no more tears left.

His heart ached unlike anything he’d ever felt in his life when his thoughts turned to his

father. Why anyone would want to shoot and kill the sweetest, most loveable, and honorable

man, aside from his dad Paul, was beyond anything he could make sense of.

Nicholas was the one he went to for all things. He could tell him anything and feel

completely comfortable. Nicholas might not have been his biological dad, but it didn’t matter.

He was Nicholas’s son, and Nicholas was his father in every sense of the word.

It was his fault Nicholas was dead! He’d gotten him shot. Oh, Jesus God! I’m sorry! Dad,

I’m so sorry! Please forgive me. I may not have pulled the trigger, but I might as well have. Dad,

please forgive me. How will I face you now? I can’t! I can’t ever go back! Even if I could, how

would I live knowing I might as well have pulled the trigger and taken him from you?

He wished his eyes would just stay closed. He didn’t want to face the reality of the

situation. If he opened them, he would have to accept that this was now his life. He wished for

sleep to drag him back under, but his back was burning so badly he wanted to cry. He listened

for several minutes, but aside from the low murmurs coming from somewhere beside him, there

was nothing. He told his mind to sleep, but it, too, refused to listen. It was going to force him to

take in the situation for what it was.

Ever so slowly he opened his eyes, somewhat relieved that the sun wasn’t there to greet

him. He gasped when he saw he was in a…cage? He was in a metal cage. What the fuck? The

damn thing was only slightly bigger than a large dog crate, but this was far removed from

anything he’d ever seen an animal in, dog or not. The top and sides were constructed of steel bars

like a jail cell, but rather than the bars forming vertical lines, they were woven into a network of

small squares. From the look of it, the entire frame of the cell had then been welded to the floor.

His heart thumped in fear, and he broke out in a cold sweat. “Jesus,” he said, trying not to cry.

It was no wonder he was so sore. The only way he could fit was if he lay on his side or

back, with his knees bent. He had no pillow, no blanket, no clothes, just concrete floor, and the

air inside his enclosed space. He looked at the door and knew it was locked. The crazy as hell

bastards had locked him in a cage, naked. Degrading was the first word that came to mind. He

wasn’t a damn animal!

He tried not to allow his eyes to look outside of his…cage. They decided differently,

though, and what he saw scared the absolute hell out of him.

He was in a large, square room, and there were more cages lined up against the four

walls. Jesus, there were guys in those cages too. What the fuck! From what he could see, they

were awake and just staring at him. There were no windows in the room, but florescent lights

flooded the area, giving no allowance to an over active imagination. He found the door quickly

enough, on the other side of the room, actually. It had a small window near the top of it and no

door knob. Next to the door was a small key card machine, which had a red light glowing from

it, no doubt a security feature. There would be no escaping that way.

His eyes looked up, his mouth fell open, and he sighed, “This isn’t good.”

There were numerous pulleys and hooks attached to the roof beams. Chains hung from

the hooks, the same kind that had held him as that beast had beaten him. What little moisture

there was in his mouth, dried instantly because he wasn’t able to shut it. His eyes continued with

their journey, no matter how hard he tried to just shut it all out. It didn’t matter that his eyes took

it all in; it was his mind that couldn’t grasp what it meant. What in the hell was this place?

“Lucca, what is this place?”

He couldn’t catch his breath, taking too much in one second and not enough the next.

Jesus! The walls were covered with whips, chains, ropes, paddles, and other things he couldn't

even begin to make sense of. On another wall were contraptions he had no names for: bars with

chains, strips of leather, long wands with bulbs and spikes on the ends, and…

“I think I’m in trouble,” he said, swallowing back the bile in his throat.

When he saw the benches and the cross sitting in the center of the room, he began

shaking so hard that his teeth chattered.

“A dungeon. Like in the olden days, the Renaissance era. Holy shit.” He forced his eyes

closed.

“Oh, you’re f-f-finally awake! I’ve been s-s-so worried about you. You’ve slept like the

dead for two days. No p-p-pun intended,” Sebastian said. “You’re right. I mean about it being a

d-d-dungeon; it is.”

Christian slowly turned his pounding head toward the gentle, soft voice. A boy, maybe

his age, with brown, shaggy hair and big eyes was looking right at him with a small smile on his

otherwise sad looking, angelic face.

“A what?” he asked.

“Well, it’s really to be referred to as the t-t-training room, but we call it the d-d-dungeon.

My name is slave S-s-sebastian, the one beside you there is slave B-b-brent, and next to me is

slave Joshua.”

“They’re in love; though I try to tell them it’s pointless. To each his own, I suppose,”

Brent said, rolling his eyes.

Slaves? He was locked in a cage with a room full of slaves. What in the hell had

happened? Did he fall asleep and wake up in a different century?

“I’m Christian. Is everyone here a slave?”

“Y-y-yes, we’re all the same in th-th-this room. I wish I could say I’m happy to meet you,

but not under these circumstances. Where are you from?”

Christian looked at the man named Joshua. He looked to be at least six-foot-two but

couldn’t weigh anywhere near what Lucca did. From what he could tell, his black hair was long,

maybe past his shoulders. There was no mistaking the fierce blueness of his eyes, though, almost

breathtaking.

He looked away, up at the hooks and shivered.

“I was taken from Tucson, Arizona. I grew up there and in Italy. How about you?”

“He’s from Illinois, Sebastian is from Oklahoma, and I’m from L.A.”

“So, how long have you been prisoners here?” Christian asked, looking to Brent, who’d

taken it upon himself to answer the question.

“Me personally? Three months. Seb’s been here for six months, and Joshua, seven.”

“Holy shit, this is beyond a nightmare. How long have I been here?”

“You’ve been with us in this room for two days, but I don’t know if they kept you

someplace else first. Do you remember anything?”

“When I first woke up, I was in a small room chained to a cot. I don’t know how long I

was there, though. Then I think I pissed Dwight off, and he knocked me out. The next thing I can

remember is hanging from the ceiling and now this.”

“Nothing should surprise you in here; you’ll learn that soon enough. One word of

advice—if a Master says to jump, you jump, no questions asked. It’s easier if you just accept the

fact that you’re a slave, and your life now belongs to your Masters. As long as you remember all

that, you’ll be just fine,” Brent said.

“Dwight, you twisted bastard,” Christian said under his breath. He tried to swallow the

ever growing lump in his throat. This is what Dwight had been doing to him long ago. Dwight

had been training him to be a slave! And that sonofabitch had called it love. He’d said it was

what Christian would do if he loved him. The sick part was that he’d come to like some parts of

what Dwight had done to him. Had he, at the tender age of sixteen, understood the dynamics or

the meaning of it? No! He’d had no clue.

Sometimes he and Lucca had experimented with different types of bondage, but it was

nothing like this. There were times when he’d thought of telling Lucca about some of his urges

and desires, but…no, he couldn’t. Lucca would’ve thought he was sick and perverted. It was

much better to have kept that to himself.

Out of curiosity, he’d visited some websites and had seen a lot of this equipment. He’d

allowed himself to fantasize about what it would be like to have Lucca wielding some of those

toys and knew it would be incredible. But those were just the fantasies of a twisted mind.

He didn’t want to ask the next question; he shouldn’t ask it. It would just be better not to

know.

“Trained to do what?” There, he asked it. Dammit!

“Trained to become submissive sex slaves,” Brent answered angrily.

“Oh, for God’s sake, this is a really, really bad joke. What in the hell is a submissive sex

slave? And what or who is a master?” That was something he used to call Dwight because he’d

been told to. Christian had never been told why, though, and he’d never asked.

“Masters are our betters. They hold all the power over us. We’re the triple S’s. It’s what

we’re referred to. Obvious right? A Master is a Master because he’s better than we are. We’re

dirt to them. Our needs don’t matter, just theirs. This is straight-up BDSM. This is now your life.

“Master Dwight owns and runs the business. Master Evan is the trainer. Well, one of

them, but he’s the main one. They teach us how to be proper slaves. We learn to submit to

whatever a Master wants from us. Some of the boys are hard-core pain sluts, so they get off on

how things go here. Personally, I want to be sold. I want to get the hell away from these sadistic

fucks. Most of the guys here want to stay with the Masters because they’re guaranteed a warm

place to sleep and food if they earn it. Idiots.”

Christian studied Brent, the angry one. His hair was jet black; his eyes looked to be

greener than his own, and his complexion was creamy perfection. Brent looked to be about as tall

as he was, maybe a few pounds heavier, though how anyone could gain weight living in a

freaking cage escaped him. “Like, what would a Master want?”

“Doesn’t matter ‘like what’. A slave never questions his Master; a slave’s only job is to

obey. But it can vary, anything from a Master giving his slave a spanking, to something bigger

like a whipping or caning or anything else a Master fancies at the time. We are taught that our

needs do not matter. Only our Masters matter.”

Oh. Shit. This had to be the most insane fucking thing he’d ever heard. “Is anyone given

a choice as to what happens to them?”

“Master Evan and Master Dwight will decide our fates. If we’re good slaves and serve

them and their customers well, we get to eat and have showers. If we’re disobedient, we’re sold

out of the country or killed. We’re slaves. You know the definition of the word, right?”

“So, it’s either become a good slave or die? This,” Christian said, looking around him, “is

better than death?”

“Let me put it to you this way, kid; death or being sold are the only ways you’ll ever

escape this place. If you wanna keep breathing, serving is the only option,” Brent stated in a dull,

flat voice.

Christian couldn’t believe how matter of fact Brent sounded. It was as though all this was

to be accepted without question. How could human beings do this and live this way?

“This is just so fucking unreal,” he moaned. Dammit, his body was hurting in places he

didn’t know could hurt.

“Does anyone know where this place is? Do you know where we are?”

“Does it matter? It’s not like you’re ever getting away, especially not you. Master Dwight

has been talking about you for a long time. He’s never gonna let you go.”

“Well, h-h-holy cow, Brent, you don’t have to be so m-m-mean about it,” Sebastian said.

Christian looked back and forth between the three, wondering how in the hell they’d

ended up here.

“Baby,” Joshua said, “Please, go back to your story.”

“B-b-but, Brent is being a j-j-jerk. Pretty boy is already scared enough, and he’s not h-h-

helping.”

“I swear, Seb, one of these days,” Brent mumbled.

“Oh, I know. You’re just gonna t-t-tear my lips off, right?”

“Sebastian, your story,” Joshua snapped.

“Okay, I’m sorry. Jeez, I really need a sh-sh-shower. I hope we get showers today.”

“Tomorrow is shower day, Seb. Now shoosh,” Brent said a little more gently.

“Once I heard from a p-p-pet…” Sebastian started to say.

“A pet?”

“Yes, they’re boys who’ve been slaves and have p-p-passed the final transition. They’re

still s-s-slaves but with more p-p-power than us. Like Brent said, many of them are pain sluts.

They crave it, and M-m-master Evan loves to give it. But they’re all ugly, m-m-mean boys;

you’ll s-s-see that soon enough. Anyway, as I was saying, a p-p-pet told me once that we were in

a small town in New Mexico. I think it’s called Hatch.”

“I’ve never even heard of Hatch. How in the hell will anyone find us if no one’s ever

heard of it? This is ludicrous. We’re people, not slaves, for Christ’s sake. You said something

about customers. What did you mean?”

“Many of them are learning to become M-m-masters. They practice on us before they

take that final step in entering the s-s-scene to look for a s-s-slave of their own.”

Christian’s mind went swirling. This was way too much information. Actually, it was

mind blowing. Someone, somewhere, needed to do something and to do it fast. He didn’t know

how long he could hold on. “Hasn’t anyone tried to get help?”

“Oh, sure, one did. He’s dead now. Master Evan killed him right over that drain in the

floor, tortured him to death. He’d tried to tell a practicing Master that he’d been kidnapped from

his home, and he needed help,” Brent replied sarcastically.

Christian gasped. “Didn’t the man think anything of it?”

“Why, sure he did. He’s dead too. Now when Master Dwight brings customers in, all

slaves, and even some pets, are overseen by trusted pups…”

“Pups?”

“Yes, pups are graduated pets. Some go on to be colts. They’re the ones sold in auctions,

fully trained, fully submissive, and fully into the life.”

“Holy shit. This just gets more and more demented, like some twisted-ass animal farm.

They’re kidnapping boys, turning them into sex slaves and then selling them as if they weren’t

human? Who in their right fucking mind does that? Who killed the man that tried to help?”

“Master Evan did. He seems to get off on killing people.”

“And you’re all okay with this.” It was more an accusation than a question.

“Does it look like we have a say so in the matter? We don’t have many choices here, boy.

When a Master-in-training comes here, he picks who he wants. It doesn’t matter if we want to do

it or not, cuz we’re nothing but low life slaves. The sooner you get that through your pretty skull,

the better off you’ll be.”

“D-d-did you know that if they p-p-pick you, and they have no use for your mouth,

they’ll stick a b-b-ball gag in it? Cuz they don’t wanna hear your moans or cries. If mouth play is

requested, the slave is not allowed to speak. If they do s-s-speak, they’re done away with. I’ve

heard of some slaves who’ve lost their t-t-tongues and others who’ve lost their ability to talk in

other ways. Everybody t-t-tells on everybody here. T-t-trust no one. The boys all want to be on

M-m-master Evan’s good side; they get privileges that way,” Sebastian said. “But it’s like the M-

m-masters teach; what can a slave possibly require?”

“How about a choice?”

Brent snickered. “Have a look around. We do not have choices anymore. You’ll need to

earn the right to use the bathroom, to get soap for your showers, to have a towel to dry off with.

Your life now belongs to your Masters. If you fail to please your Master, you’ll pay dearly.”

“Please them to have life’s basic needs?”

“It’s either that, or you’ll go without those basic needs until they break you down. Then,

really, it won’t matter to you if you’re dirty, hungry, or anything else, because those bastards

won’t allow you to care.”

“And these boys like this?”

“No, not all of them like it, at least not in the beginning. Most of them hate it, me

included, but once they realize there is no way out, they begin to accept it. What else can they

do? Fight it? They’ll die within hours if they try. Besides, for some it’s better than begging,

hooking, and living on the streets. A lot of the boys here look at the Masters as saviors.”

“Saviors? They’re all condemned to a life in hell. How is this being saved?”

“They don’t wanna live on the streets anymore. I’ll bet you’ve never had to go without a

meal or a safe, clean place to sleep, so what do you know?”

Ignoring the last part of Brent’s statement, Christian looked around a little more before

asking the questions he was afraid to know the answers to.

“Do they use all this stuff in here on you?”

“Every bit of it. Depends on the mood of the Master. You don’t wanna piss ‘im off. Ever.

Just do like I said earlier. The better behaved you are, the better you listen, the easier it’ll be for

you. Unlike Josh over there, he can’t seem to get past the ‘yes, Master’ bit to save his ass. Your

first order of business is trying to earn the simple things.”

Christian moaned out loud. The heat of the stripes on his back seemed to grow worse the

longer he held onto the conscious world. “What are simple things?”

“Oh, like a p-p-pillow and b-b-blanket and even w-w-water. Those things must be earned.

I’d give you my pillow and stuff, but they won’t f-f-fit through the holes,” Sebastian said sadly.

“Different days bring d-d-different pains. Like t-t-today is m-m-my turn to s-s-sexually p-p-

please my M-m-master and his two p-p-pets.”

Christian couldn’t believe his ears. That poor boy! He didn’t even want to think about

how he was going to have to please those sick minded people.

“My God, this is against the law, not to mention the fact that it’s depraved, insane, and

outrageous.” He had so many questions and thoughts running through his mind that he was afraid

if he didn’t express them all at the same time, he’d forget them for a whole new set.

“How can it be against the law if no one knows about it?” Brent said with a hint of

sadness in his voice. “And even if anyone did find out about it, they’d never find us. Besides,

most of us were unwanted anyway; no one misses us out there. This is all we have. Here we get

to eat and drink fresh water as long as we make the Masters happy. We don’t have to hide under

bridges to get out of the snow or rain. We don’t have to beg for money so we can buy food and

stuff. We get to take showers and fall asleep without worrying if someone’s gonna try to rob us.

You take what you can get, when you can get it.”

“But none of that stuff is free. You’re exchanging sexual favors to eat, sleep, and shower.

You get used and beaten and for what? So you can sleep in a cage? How can any of you want

this? How is this better? This is not living a life; this is just existing. How is this any different

than living and selling yourselves on the streets?”

“Have you ever been raped? Have you ever gone without food for days on end? Have you

ever slept under a bridge, worried that someone was going to come along and take what few

possessions you have left? Have you ever had to sell your ass, and I mean that literally, just so

you could buy a burger? Have you been sneered at, spit on, and called names, all because you

had no control over what had become of you?”

Christian looked at Brent and shook his head. For the first time in his life, he was

speechless.

Christian’s silence only served to reinforce Brent’s derision. “Of course not. I had you

pegged right from the get-go, spoiled, rich boy. They didn’t steal you off the streets. They didn’t

offer you a way out and make promises they never meant to keep. You, my friend, are a personal

vendetta. You’re different than we are. I know it and so do you.”

“Brent, why do you have to be so m-m-mean?”

“Because, Seb, there’s no reason to lie. He needs to know. He needs to know just what to

expect now.” Turning toward Christian with a challenging look in his eye, Brent continued,

“This isn’t a Holiday Inn. This is fucking hell.”

“You know, Brent, I may not have had a life like that, but I’m still a person. I still have

feelings. I didn’t mean to say anything disrespectful; I just don’t understand this. I don’t know

what this means. Shit, I didn’t even realize that places like this existed until now.

“All I do know is that one moment I was laughing with my father, and the next, he was

shot in the head. I was right there when my father was shot. I saw that bullet hit him. I stood

there and saw my father fall in that filthy alley; I saw his blood draining away, and there wasn’t a

single thing I could do to help him. I was forced to watch my father die!

“These animals stole me; they stole my life, and they took my father away from my dad.

They took me away from my Lucca. The only thing I want is to go home and be with them. This

isn’t the life I want. I didn’t choose to be here, and I’m not willing to just accept it.” He didn’t

want to cry in front of these strangers, his fellow slaves, but it was out of his hands. He didn’t

want the memory of seeing his father being shot, all the blood seeping onto the ground.

Brent ignored the spark of pity that was attempting to displace the bitterness he

embraced. Christian’s confession marked a mere fraction of the suffering Brent had endured in

his lifetime. Fucking little, rich boy didn’t know the meaning of the word suffering. Brent didn’t

know what it felt like to have parents who loved him, so to say that he knew how Christian felt

would be nothing more than a lie.

Looking away, he said, “You’re not getting out of here—not unless they sell you or kill

you. If you’re sold, all you can hope for is that they sell you to someone who allows you a tiny

bit of freedom; then you can try to escape and find your family. If you try to resist them and

don’t do as they say, you’ll end up like Joshua and never get out of these fucking cages.”

“You know he stays cuz of me, Brent. If it wasn’t f-f-for me, he’d be someone’s slave by

n-n-now,” Sebastian replied sadly.

“Brent, knock it off. He’s upset as it is. They both are,” Joshua said.

“Well, I’m sorry, but I don’t tiptoe around the truth. Won’t it be better for him to know

the reality of this? Of what they’ll do to him when they bend his ass over and whip him until he

can’t feel or think? Or when they decide to both fuck him at the same damn time? Is it better for

him not knowing what to expect? Is it better that he doesn’t know when they snap their fucking

fingers that it means to get on your fucking knees and crawl to them like a spineless, worthless

piece of shit? That they expect us to whimper at their feet like a lonely, lost puppy? Is that what

you think, Josh?”

“Shut up, Brent. You and your big mouth. Why don’t you just stop and think about how

to say stuff before saying it? Look at what you’ve done to Seb! He’s a fucking wreck just

because you can’t take a fucking minute to think.”

Lucca, please help me! Christian’s heart hammered. How in the hell would Lucca even

know where to find him? He looked at Sebastian, who was shaking and silently crying, and felt

the boy’s pain. How would they all survive a life like this? Death had to be the better option. He

closed his eyes, wishing for sleep to take him again. He ignored the three others and their

bickering. He didn’t want to get to know any of them, and he damn sure didn’t want them to

know him. He wouldn’t be around long enough anyway. Lucca would find him soon.

“Seb? Seb, baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I’ll give you my pudding at

dinner. Just please don’t cry anymore. If the Masters come in, they’ll hurt you,” Brent said

desperately.

“I d-d-don’t g-g-get pudding. I w-w-wasn’t good.”

“Baby, please don’t think about it. You’ll have plenty tonight, but you have to be quiet,”

Joshua said nervously, looking at the door.

“But I’m hungry. I d-d-didn’t get d-d-dinner last night or the n-n-night before or b-b-

breakfast this morning.”

Christian’s stomach rolled. “He’s locked in a cage; he isn’t fed, and this is acceptable?”

“It is what it is,” Brent mumbled.

“Oh, p-p-please, pretty one. D-d-don’t get worked up. I often miss meals, which is okay

because the food is bad anyway. Joshua, oh, this is just t-t-terrible. They aren’t going to feed

him, are they? They’ll weaken him and weaken his will so he’ll be a g-g-good slave. That’s what

they did to you, right? Well, but they did more than withhold your m-m-meals when you fought

back. They hurt you. I r-r-remember that like it was yesterday. I don’t guess they figured you

were hurt enough. I sure…”

“Slave Sebastian!”

“Oh no,” Sebastian gasped.

Christian’s blood froze; his heart stopped, and his breath got caught in his lungs. He

turned his head and his mouth dropped.

“Pet Juan, I want slave Sebastian out of there and here at my feet immediately!”

“Yes, Master. Would you like him hanging or bent over the horse?”

Christian saw the so-called pet grin, and then he glanced over at the paling boy in the

cage and wanted to scream. How could this be happening? The pet took the keys from Evan and

fucking strutted over to kneel before Sebastian’s cage.

“What the fuck did he do to deserve that? He was talking! That’s all he was doing,”

Christian yelled. He grabbed the steel bars and tried to shake the cage. “Leave him alone!”

The pet had the lock open and began yanking at the kid’s legs, trying to pull him out, all

the while taunting him. Sebastian cried and held onto the cage walls in desperation. He screamed

when his fingers slipped, and Christian lost it.

“This is bullshit! Leave him the hell alone, you fucking creeps! We are not animals to be

kept in cages like this. Let us out! I will never fucking fall to my knees before you pigs to serve

you! I’m not a slave!” The realization of what was happening to him hit him all at once, and the

only thing he knew then was that he had to escape. He had to get back home and be there for his

father. Dammit, why hadn’t he listened to Dwight’s threats?

He didn’t hear the others in the cages around him begging him to settle down. He didn’t

care what the consequences would be; he just wanted out. He kicked and yelled with everything

he had and called them every name in the book.

“Get him out! I want this disobedient slave brought to my quarters immediately! If he

survives the night, he’ll be lucky.”

No amount of holding onto the walls of his cage could save Christian now. He tried to

kick out, but his legs were cramped and numb. It took two slaves to drag him from the safety of

his prison, Christian yelling and crying out for help the entire time. He tried pulling away; he

tried dropping to the floor, but nothing worked. They dragged him from the room, down the long

dark hallway, and into an old elevator. The steel cage doors closed behind them, and they went

up three floors.

He was so mad that he didn’t see where he was being led, nor did he care. He only cared

about escaping. He wanted Lucca and yelled as much, but that only caused Evan to slap him and

bust his lip open. Christian didn’t pay attention to the blood dipping; he still continued to fight

for his freedom.

Finally, they stopped at the last door on the right. He was thrown into a mid-sized room

with mirrors placed along one wall and cages along another. The middle of the room was open,

and when Christian looked up, he knew why.

“No! Oh God, please, not again! You can’t do this to me. I can’t do this!” His heart

pounded, his pulse raced, his throat constricted, and he started choking. Again and again, he tried

to pull away from the bigger guys who held him in place beneath the pulley and chains that hung

overhead.

Evan stood off to the side, smirking and watching his pets to be sure they did as they

were instructed. He pressed the button on the wall, and the pulley and chains rattled to life.

Christian couldn’t pull his eyes away from them. He had no control over his body

anymore; no matter what he did or didn’t want, he wasn’t in control. He could only stare in

frozen horror as the chains came down to meet him. There was nothing he could do when the

guys pulled his arms up over his head and wrapped each wrist in the leather cuffs attached to the

silver chains. He licked at the blood covering his lips and almost wretched at the coppery taste.

Evan signaled for the pets to step back, and once they did, he pressed the button yet

again. Christian screamed out in agony as his arms were yanked up, being forced to undergo the

same treatment they’d been through just days ago.

“Lucca!” Christian screamed. He kicked around, his feet no longer touching the ground

below. He tried with all his might to lift himself up but only succeeded in hurting himself more.

“You won’t be screaming ‘Lucca’ when I’m done with you, boy!”

Christian watched him take the whip from one of the pets, and he yelled out again, this

time pleading to be let down. He watched that evil bastard raise his hand up and to the side, the

whip dangling there like a snake waiting to strike. He watched as Evan’s hand came up. He

heard a commotion at the door, then heard Evan snicker as his hand rose further. Christian laid

his head back on his shoulders and closed his eyes just as he heard the whip being let loose, and

then Dwight’s voice followed.

“Stop!”

Chapter Seven

“How is he?”

Paul turned away from the window and nodded. His heart raced, hearing Lucca’s low

voice so full of sadness and worry.

“Lucca,” he said. Paul went to him, and they embraced in an effort to give each other the

comfort and support they needed. “He’s getting better. Where have you been all week?”

“He looks better,” Lucca said, letting Paul go. “Has he been awake?”

“He finally woke up yesterday. He doesn’t remember anything, but the doctor says it’s

normal after a traumatic injury. He fell asleep again just a while ago. He was asking to see you

and Christian.”

Lucca bit his upper lip to keep from letting go of the damn tears that continued to

threaten him.

“Lucca, where have you been? I’ve been so worried.”

Lucca took a deep breath and looked down at Nicholas. “I called in an old friend to help

me find Christian. He’s unrivaled in what he and his guys do; they’re exceptional. Tony and

Ryan, a couple of his associates, came down yesterday, and we’ve been digging into everything

we could think of for some clues, any clues as to who may have him. We also found Christian’s

diary on his computer last night. Did you or Nicholas know he kept one?”

“He never mentioned it to me. You know Nicholas and Christian are as thick as thieves,

but if anything about a diary had been mentioned, Nicholas would’ve told me, I’m sure of it.

What did it say?”

Lucca looked away from Paul again, trying to find the right words. He took a few small

breaths and looked into Paul’s eyes.

“We think Dwight has him.”

Paul looked at him, clearly having no clue who Lucca meant. “What? Who the hell is

Dwight?”

Lucca sat on a chair across from Nicholas’s bed and looked down between his legs at the

tiled floor. “Youngman, Dwight Youngman from Cactus High school, Christian’s first

boyfriend.”

Paul’s mouth dropped open as the memory hit him. “Oh, my…what?” he responded in

shock. “What do you mean you think he has him? What leads you to believe he has my son? Did

Christian write about being afraid of something like this happening? Why would Dwight just

take him? Those two broke up ages ago. In fact, Christian had told us that it wasn’t anything

serious to begin with.” He looked over at Lucca and his face crumbled. “You have to tell me; tell

me what you found.”

Lucca wiped his teary eyes and shook his head, more so in anger than in refusal. He

wished he didn’t have to tell Christian’s father this. He didn’t want to put him through the pain

he himself was still in.

“They’d been seeing each other for more than a year, Paul, starting in Christian’s

freshman year of high school. Christian hid it; he hid all of it from you and Nicholas,” he said

with a hint of anger. Fuck! He didn’t want to be angry with Christian, but he was, dammit!

“It had started out innocently enough. Dwight had pursued him for a month or so before

Christian finally gave in. They’d hung out a bit, met up at different places. Apparently, Dwight

had made Christian feel like he was the center of the universe or something. At the time,

Christian was young, impressionable, and going through that awkward stage. Coming to terms

with the fact that he was gay probably hadn’t helped things either, and Dwight became his hero.

They became an item in no time, and their relationship progressed quickly,” Lucca said, wiping

his eyes yet again. He stood up with his fists at his sides, doing all he could to keep his temper at

bay. He walked to the window and looked out at the mountains that surrounded the valley

Tucson sat in.

“A month after they’d begun seeing one another, Dwight began hitting him.”

Paul gasped and jumped up from the chair he’d taken near Nicholas. “Hitting him? What

do you mean, hitting him?”

Lucca kept his back to Paul; he couldn’t face him, not right now. How could no one have

noticed the pain his boy was in for over a year? The bruises and sadness Christian spoke of so

freely in his diary should have been plain as day to see.

“Lucca! Answer me, please?”

“Dwight abused Christian the entire time they were together. He hit him all the time. He

hit him with a closed fist, with open hands, with objects. It varied. Dwight didn’t care if he left

Christian full of bruises.

“This is absurd. I, we, would have known if our son was being physically abused. He was

always so happy, so full of life. You met him then, Lucca, you know this. How could he not tell

us this was going on?”

Lucca spun around and glared at Paul. “He was embarrassed!” Lucca stopped himself

short and took a deep breath. Turning his anger loose on Paul would solve nothing. “He was

mortified, Paul, that’s why. He was scared out of his mind; he was afraid of Dwight and of what

he’d do next. Christian wrote every little detail in that diary.” Some of which he’d never tell Paul

or Nicholas. He needed time to sort through it himself. “Some of the shit I read made me sick to

my fucking stomach. Paul, your son wasn’t happy. He was a great actor. He wanted to protect

you and Nicholas, and he did a damn fine job of it. That is, until Dwight started harassing him

again a few months ago.”

Paul’s eyes opened wider and his chin dropped.

Lucca nodded. “That’s what had been bothering him lately. Dwight came back and he

wanted Christian. Dwight told him if he didn’t leave me and go to him, we’d all be sorry.

Christian fucking begged me to take him to Italy, and I told him not yet! I could have saved him

from this fucking hell he’s in if I would have listened to him. Dammit!”

“Good God, my son has been living in hell, and we knew nothing about it. He’s hidden

himself from all of us for all these years, and now he’s…oh, Christian.” Paul sat down hard on

the chair, hid his face in his hands, and cried.

Lucca tried to remain angry with Paul, but seeing the man sobbing broke down whatever

barriers he’d built around his heart. In an instant, Lucca was on his knees in front of Paul, trying

to comfort him. Several minutes passed before either of them could speak again. Paul was the

first to break the silence.

“Can this Carl find him? Now that we have a name, we should be able to locate him

without too much trouble.”

“Paul, when someone doesn’t want to be found, it’s a lot of trouble; however, Carl has

some leads and friends in the right places. If anyone can find Christian, it’ll be Carl. His best

friend’s kid brother, Ryan, is holed up somewhere and is pursuing all possible options on the

Internet. Ryan’s boyfriend is with Carl, following up on a few things. Christian will be found; of

that, I have no doubt. What scares the hell out of me, though, is the condition we’ll find him in.”

“What do you mean?”

“If Dwight was that intense all those years ago, what is he like now? He’s more than

angry with Christian. You can bet he didn’t just let the past five years float away. Dwight will

take all those years of hate out on him. He’ll break Christian.”

Paul could only look at him in shock. He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times,

but nothing would come out. Lucca watched him, knowing what he’d said was a lot to take in

and understand, but it had to be said. Christian would forever be changed after this. They needed

to know what they were up against.

“Where is his diary?” Paul asked. “I’d like to read it.”

“It’s with Ryan. Carl shipped Christian’s laptop to him last night after we read it; he may

be able to find something we missed. I also had my main computer’s hard drive removed and

shipped along with it. If there’s anything in those machines, Ryan will find it.”

“I can’t believe this. My baby son has hidden his life from me. What kind of a parent am

I? How could we not have seen that?”

“He hid it well.” As much as Lucca wanted to blame Paul and Nicholas, he found that he

could not. They loved Christian with all their hearts; there was no question about that. Why

Christian felt that he needed to hide from them was anyone’s guess, and why Christian felt he

needed to hide his past from Lucca, made him question the foundation of their entire

relationship.

“Lucca, find my son. Bring him home. I’ll make it all okay again.”

Lucca nodded, not really paying attention.

“You’re thinking of leaving him, aren’t you?”

Jesus! How did the man do that? “Let’s not do this. He’s out there somewhere, and he’ll

need help when he’s found.”

“Lucca, I know you’re hurting. We’re all hurting. We’re dealing with a situation that we

have never encountered before, and we’re scared. But Christian is living in hell. He’ll need us.”

“I thought I knew him.” Lucca shook his head in anger. “I thought he told me everything

about himself. After all those talks we had about trust, I find this out.”

“You said yourself that he hid it because he was embarrassed. Am I expected to accept

that and be okay with it, but you, not so much? Love is love, Lucca. Either it’s there or it isn’t.

Do you love my son?”

Lucca blinked and the tears fell. “With everything that I am.”

“Then give him a chance to explain to all of us why he’s hidden that part of his life from

us.”

“I plan on it. He’s my boy to the end, Paul. I never had any intention of turning away

from him. I just need to process this and figure out how to deal with it.” If he had to become his

boy’s Dom to keep him, he’d damn sure step up to the plate. He wasn’t letting Christian

go…ever.

Paul tried to smile but failed. Instead, he went to Lucca and hugged him.

“We’ll find him and fix this. He’ll be alright. We’ll be alright.”

“Tell me about Nicholas.” Lucca took a couple steps back and ran his fingers through his

hair.

“We were very lucky. Another itty bitty fraction of an inch, and it would have been

deadly. I’m thankful there’s still a bandage wrapped around his head. I don’t think I want to be

here when he sees the doctor had to shave some of his hair.”

Lucca chuckled, but it sounded entirely humorless to his hears. He glanced at Nicholas.

“How do you think he’s going to take Christian’s disappearance?”

“I’m hoping to God we find our son before I have to tell him. He won’t take it well.”

“But, Paul, we may need his help. He may have heard something to help lead us to him.”

“Lead you to whom, dear?”

Both Lucca and Paul froze and looked at one another, then over to Nicholas.

“This isn’t good,” Lucca whispered.

“Not at all,” Paul agreed before pasting a smile on and going to his husband.

Chapter Eight

“Fucking bastards!” Brent growled, “What purpose does it serve? They beat you to death,

for what? It’s not like they change your mind for you. Do they seriously think that one day we’ll

just wake up and say, ‘Oh, now I get it!’ Look at him; look at what they’ve done to him in just a

week,” Brent said when the pets locked Christian back in his cage. “And where the fuck is

Sebastian? You spineless fucking pricks!”

“Brent, none of that will help either of them. Please, don’t upset the pets. They’ll tell and

you’ll be next. I need your strength for Seb, for when they bring him back to me.”

“Oh, dammit, Josh, what if they killed the kid? Look at your pretty boy there. He’s been

whipped again. Christian? Hey, are you doin’ alright? Did you see Seb?”

Christian didn’t respond. Instead, he twisted his body and turned away from all of them,

closing his eyes.

“Fuck! Joshua, they did it; they hurt him bad. He needs help. That pretty, rich boy won’t

last here. Look at what they did to him!” Brent heard Joshua’s gasp as he, too, saw the blood

between the new boy’s ivory white legs.

“Oh my God. Christian? Please answer me. At least tell me that you’re okay,” Joshua

said after the pets left the main room, slamming the door behind them.

“Those fucking bastards raped him; they tore him, Joshua. He’ll die if we don’t find a

way out of here. That boy can’t live this life, and neither can Seb. We need to help them. Us!

We’re their only hope.”

“And how do you propose we do that? It’s not like we have a lot of options here. I can’t

even reach the damn lock on my cage, let alone open it.” Joshua replied bitterly.

“What if they really hurt Seb? That poor kid wouldn’t hurt a fly, and they treat him so

rough. How many times will he be raped like this new boy here? It’s not safe for any of us, Josh.

How can you stand it?”

“I can’t stand it! I fuckin’ hate it but there’s nothing I can do! Do you have to rub it in?”

Brent raked his fingers through his hair as an idea took shape in his mind. “We can take a

stand against them. There are more of us than them. We can beat them. We can overtake them.”

Joshua’s laugh was riddled with sarcasm. “And just how do you propose we do that? The

others are afraid of their own shadows. You’ve seen how they shake any time one of the Masters

makes an appearance. There’s not a single fucking thing we can do like this. We need help from

the outside.”

Brent had to think. There was a way out; he just needed to find it. Hell, he’d always

found his way out of the most difficult situations before. Why should this be any different? He

grinned and looked back at Joshua. “Shower day. They put us all in a circle in the middle of the

room here and turn the hoses on us. We can do it then.”

“Yeah? So what, it’ll be just the two of us against them?”

“More would jump in; you know they would. They just need someone to start it.” Brent

said, becoming more animated by the moment.

“And that someone is you?” Joshua asked skeptically.

“Well, it’s better than the alternative.”

“And that is?”

“And that is allowing them to keep us locked up like animals and treating us as if we’re

no more than sex toys. I know for a fact that you don’t want this life, and you don’t want it for

Seb either. We can’t just sit here and accept this anymore. It’s like the new kid said, we have

choices. Or we’re supposed to anyway. These are our lives we’re talking about. I want love in

my life. Joshua, I want someone to love me for me. I want what anyone wants. I want to laugh

and play. I want to hold hands and talk with someone about things that matter and even things

that don’t. Just once in my life, I’d like to have what everyone else has, but I can’t have it like

this.”

“They’ll kill you, Brent.”

“Then so be it. I can’t do this anymore; I’d rather be dead than live a life where I don’t

even have the choice to say no. I don’t want to ask permission to take a shower or to eat

something as simple as an apple. I should be able to take a walk when I want to, not when my

Master thinks I should. There has to be more to life than this, and if I want a life like that, I have

to try to do something to get it. I don’t want to live like this anymore.” Brent’s eyes were wild,

caught half way between a righteous anger and a deep, soul wrenching sorrow.

“I know, Brent. I know that feeling well. When I was free, I never took advantage of a

single day that went by. I lived each day to the fullest, and I’m glad I did. I want out of here as

much as you do, but I want Seb with me. I can’t do anything that could jeopardize either of us. I

won’t leave without him.”

“I swear to God, if they hurt Seb, I’m gonna kill as many of them as I can before they kill

me.” Brent lay back, staring at the ceiling and dreaming of revenge.

*****

Christian’s mind was full of activity. He wanted to tell the boys what he’d seen but

couldn't. It seemed as though his mouth didn’t belong to him anymore. He tried to lift his head,

but it was too heavy; it didn’t belong to him anymore either. Nothing belonged to him; his mind,

his body, his thoughts and feelings, and his freedom were no longer his because his Masters said

it was so. He’d learned that the hard way, and now he wanted to tell the others that their thoughts

of escape and living free once again were futile. None of them would ever know the peace of

being free, of making decisions for themselves. He knew that now. Images of his whipping came

to him in snapshots.

When Dwight hollered for his crazed brother to stop, it wasn’t to save Christian; it was

so Dwight could wield the whip himself. Christian could still hear the hatred spewing from

Dwight’s mouth; it dripped like venom. Over and over, that whip kissed his aching and bleeding

body. He was beaten until he passed out, not once but three times. All the while, Dwight

promised to kill him slowly because Christian refused to submit to him. When he told Dwight

that Lucca was his only Master, he thought Dwight was going to explode. Instead, he laughed

and nodded his head as though all the fight had drained out of him. Then he told Evan it was

pointless.

Evan lowered Christian to the cold concrete floor and kicked him a couple of times

before ordering those pets of his to clean him up. They used two buckets of cold water.

He closed his eyes against the movie playing in his head, in his borrowed head, that is.

Christian just knew he was slowly dying; he felt his heart slowing with each breath he

took. He had time to accept that death was his only way out of this mess, and he actually looked

forward to taking his last breath. Then he could join his dad, and they’d be together forever.

Dwight and Evan actually placed bets on how long he’d live. Christian felt the kicks to

his body, but he no longer cared. It got to the point that his whole body went numb, even his

brain. He heard them talking but couldn’t register what was being said. None of it made sense; it

was all garbled. He lay panting on the cold, hard concrete floor with his eyes glazed over in

mute acceptance.

He didn’t feel it when someone turned him onto his bleeding back and sat him up against

the brick wall. He didn’t feel it when someone grabbed a handful of his wet and tangled hair and

pulled his head back. He did felt it, however, when someone placed a cup of something to his

lips, and he offered no resistance when that cup was lifted. He drank greedily, not caring what it

was. Hopefully, it was something that would take him out of this world and fast. Once the liquid

was gone, he was left alone and forgotten.

They spoke about him as if he wasn’t even there, and that was fine by him. Long minutes

passed, and then his head started swimming, making him feel as though he were floating around

somewhere outside his body. Pain ceased to exist; knowledge of where he was melted away;

understanding his current situation no longer mattered to him. He was flying and he felt damn

good. He rode that wave of freedom and let go, and he felt himself smile. Smile! How in fuck’s

sake could he possibly be smiling in this situation? He was lying on the floor naked and

bleeding, and he was feeling damn good about it! What the hell was wrong with him?

Several minutes later, his fingers and toes began to tingle just before he lost the feeling in

them. Panic took hold and he tried to cry out for help, but he couldn’t move his mouth. He had

no idea how much time passed, but he grew to like the new feeling. It made him numb from head

to toe, and that was perfect. He grew to like his corner; it kept him safe. Yes, it would be okay

because now at least his body wasn’t burning and aching. Instead, it was all tingly and happy.

He was free!

Just as he drifted off to sleep in his happy corner, someone yanked him by his hair and

held his heavy head up for him. He laughed along with Dwight because it didn’t hurt; in fact, he

pulled against the hold and moaned in pleasure.

That’s when Dwight said to someone that Christian was now ready to become what

Dwight had wanted from him years ago. He was now ready to experience the high. Christian

vaguely remembered telling Dwight to fuck off and cracking up as he said it. That didn’t go over

well, and that’s when Dwight promised him that he’d get Lucca next. Then Lucca would be in a

cage to watch Christian die a slow death.

Lying there in his cage, Christian shuddered, thinking about what they’d done to him that

day. He looked over at his fellow prisoners and prayed to God that He’d take them all quickly.

He really needed to tell them what had happened to Seb, and he tried, but all he could do was

cry, so he closed his eyes and let his mind play the movie further.

Dwight pulled him to the middle of the room and had his pets mount him to a bench or

something; he was on his stomach, bent over and tied down. From somewhere far off, Christian

could hear Dwight telling him that since he couldn’t have him, no one would ever take pleasure

from his body again. He’d destroy it before he let another living soul touch it.

Christian didn’t struggle to get loose; he didn’t care what was going on. What he really

wanted to do was sleep, and he had, in fact, closed his eyes. It didn’t matter that he was tied to a

bench. Whatever was in that drink was doing a number on him, and he liked it so much that he

kept smiling, especially when he discovered that his dick was enjoying its time with the bench it

rested against.

The more he moved, the harder it got. He could keep his eyes closed and pretend Lucca

was there with him, holding him, loving him. Slowly, he rubbed himself up and down on the

bench. The friction of his cock against the hard vinyl excited him so much that he heard himself

panting and moaning, begging for Lucca to let him come. He heard laughter and thought it was

good, so he continued to put on a show, moving his hips as much as he was able, tied as he was.

He needed to come so badly, nothing else mattered, but release was just beyond his reach. He

just needed Lucca’s loving hand and beautiful eyes to push him over the edge.

Then someone slapped his very naked and sore ass a few times, and he moaned out in

need. Keeping his eyes closed, he silently begged for more.

“You like this, pretty baby? You like being tied down? Look at how hard your dick is,”

Dwight said as he reached under Christian and took the throbbing muscle in hand. Christian

moaned, trying to move to get more of that hand around him. He was all but verbally begging to

be touched.

“Yeah, you like it. My little pain slut is what you are. See how much you loosen up with a

little help? I bet that ass is just dying for my dick now, isn’t it? You want my cock up your ass,

pretty baby?”

Christian’s half opened eyes stared at the floor below without even really seeing it. He

was too busy trying to find that magic hand, that tightness.

“Answer me, baby. Tell me you want my cock up your pretty, white ass. You know I’ll

make you feel like you’re flying, stretching you, filling you up, making you come until you pass

out. Is that what you want, slave boy?”

Those two words bit at Christian’s soul. He wasn’t a slave! He wasn’t! He tried to say

no, but he couldn’t form the simple word. He moaned out when Dwight started pumping his rock

hard dick again; his hips bucked without conscious effort on his part. He wasn’t able to stop

them, not now. He wanted release in the worst way. If this was to be his life, he’d learn to accept

it for what it was. He gasped when he felt the head of someone’s dick demanding entrance into

him. At first he pulled away, clenching his ass against the invasion, but the more Dwight pulled

at his dick, the less willpower he had.

“Tell me you want this, Christian. Just say yes and I’ll make you fly,” Dwight said,

leaning over him. He ran his fingers through Christian’s sweaty hair and gently pulled. “I’m not

a rapist, Christian; I have loads of boys who’ll pay me to do this to them. I just want you to say,

please, just that one word.”

Christian panted heavily; he shook his head, trying to fight against what his body wanted,

no, needed. His legs shook and his head swam in a haze of sexual energy. Control wasn’t his to

have anymore.

“Tell me this is what you want, and it’s yours,” Dwight whispered in his ear.

Christian couldn’t fight it any longer. His needs won out over his common sense. Besides,

it wasn’t as if he’d ever be free of this. This was his life now. The slave contract he’d signed in

desperation, sealed that. He moaned when Dwight stuck his finger in his mouth. Christian

sucked it deep and couldn’t stop the little sounds coming from his throat.

“That’s it, baby; make it wet for you. Tell me you want my dick in your ass. One word is

all I need to hear.”

Dwight’s finger pulled out of Christian’s mouth with a pop.

The next thing Christian felt was a slight pressure at his quivering, needy hole. He

wanted this, wanted it so badly. No! A hazy voice shouted inside his head. This was wrong. This

isn’t what he wanted. He wanted to be let go and allowed to go home to Lucca.

“Please,” he whispered, not knowing if he was pleading for Lucca or for Dwight; all he

knew was that he was done fighting.

“Yes, that’s it, baby. You plead so pretty. This fine, white ass is made for this, isn’t it?”

Christian finally let go and just felt. Dwight’s finger slipped inside him, and he drew a

sharp breath.

“More. Please, more,” he panted, trying to move his ass back, seeking those fingers.

“That’s it. You’re so tight. I’m gonna fuck you, boy. I’m gonna use your ass, and when

I’m finished with it, you’ll feel it for days. If you play nice, lover, I’ll have my pets feed you real

good. Would you like that?”

He buried three fingers inside Christian, all the while pulling at Christian’s hair. Dwight

licked the side of Christian’s face. His tongue stopped at Christian’s parted lips and played,

almost asking for permission to come in. Christian’s blood boiled with need. All he wanted was

release, and he’d do anything for it. He opened his mouth, inviting that hot tongue in, allowing

himself to enjoy the body that held him. He shuddered when Dwight pulled his fingers out for the

final time.

“We want your ass Christian, Evan and I. Tell me yes, baby. Tell me yes and we’ll take

you flying real high; then you get to eat a good dinner.”

“Yes, please,” he whimpered.

The last thing Christian could remember was the pain that threatened to tear him in two.

When they were both fully buried inside him, he screamed and knew nothing more.

When he finally came to and realized he was lying on the floor in a ball, he drew his legs

up tighter, closer to him. His mouth was as dry as the Arizona desert; he was cold and hungry.

He looked around to see Dwight and Evan, fully dressed and talking near the door that was

partly opened. He rolled his eyes the other way and saw two pets kneeling in the corner, waiting

for their orders.

“Sick fucks,” he whispered.

“Master, slave Christian is awake now. Shall I get him something to drink and eat as you

promised?”

Evan glanced over at him and waved the pet on to do whatever he’d said. Christian ate

his sandwich, almost in one bite. He didn’t give a damn what was in that drink; he just knew he

needed it. It felt like heaven going down his dry throat. He drank the full glass in one gulp,

almost having time to wish for more before his mind went numb. He settled back into his corner,

once he had his fill, and waited. Several minutes passed, and he heard a commotion at the door.

What he saw next nearly ripped his heart out.

“Seb,” he whispered.

*****

“What do you think they’re giving him? Every day since they brought him back, they

open his cage door, pull him out, and force him to drink that juice stuff; then he gets shoved back

in and just lays there like he’s dead. He’s looking really bad, Josh,” Brent said, looking at

Christian. The boy was shaking, sweating, and moaning but hadn’t said an intelligible word in a

week. The whip marks still stood out; angry slashes ran from the top of his shoulders to the soles

of his feet.

“He’s the first one they’ve beaten that bad since you pissed them off that one time.”

“I wish he’d wake up and tell me where Seb is,” Joshua said quietly.

Brent felt his stomach do a flip. He took a shallow breath and kept staring at Christian. If

he looked at Joshua’s face and saw the pain and worry in his eyes, he’d lose it. He had to play

carefully; he had to be smart with his plan. He was pretty sure Seb had been sold off or was dead.

Whichever it was, he would avenge the boy he’d come to love almost as much as Joshua did.

“They’re obviously drugging him, but with what, I have no clue,” Joshua whispered.

“They’ve done this before to a guy we knew as Jovan. One of those stupid colt boys was talkin’

the other day to a pet, and he mentioned that Evan had wanted Jovan. Jovan was kidnapped from

his bedroom in Dallas. His daddy was wealthy, owned acres of ranch property, and Jovan had

been his only son. Apparently, the seventeen year old had met Evan at a feed store, and Evan

decided he wanted the young cowboy. He’d followed the kid home and taken him. From what I

know, Jovan wasn’t into guys; he was straight. I remember talking to him a few times, and he’d

cry and cry. He begged me to help him. He used to stay in your cage. One night Evan called on

him, and Jovan went crazy with rage. Evan had him taken from here, and that was the last I saw

of him. When Christian blew up, it was nothing compared to Jovan’s break. The colt boy said

Jovan had been taken to Evan’s room, where he was beaten daily, then given that same juice

they’re giving Christian. Apparently, the boy died two weeks later from an overdose.”

“Oh, fuck. Fuck! What if…”

“No!” Joshua yelled, cutting him off. “No. My baby is okay. He’s just fine.”

Brent knew how much Joshua loved Sebastian; the pain in the man’s words damn near

broke his heart.

“Of course he’s okay. He’ll be back soon.” He looked over at the door that had been

opened only once in the past forty-eight hours and shook his head. Something was going on

around here, and it wasn’t good.

His stomach growled and his mouth was as dry as sand, yet there were no signs of relief

on its way to rescue them.

“It’s almost that time of the day they come in and give him the juice. Do you think they’ll

feed us today?”

“I hope so,” Joshua replied automatically.

“Joshua, look! He’s moving. Christian! Psst, can you hear me?” He grabbed hold of the

cage wall and pulled himself to lie on his side so he could see the boy better. “Christian, please,

can you look at me? Do you know where Sebastian is?”

Christian’s eyes fluttered open, tears ran down the sides of his thinning face, and Brent

stuck his fingers through the tiny, boxed hole.

“Hang on, buddy. Please, hang on.”

“Is he awake? Ask him where Seb is,” Joshua whispered.

“Christian, do you know where he is? We’re worried about him. If you saw him, please

tell us. What are they giving you? Can you hear me?”

Christian closed his eyes, his head rolling to the side, unconscious.

“Chris! Hey! Can you hear me? Josh, I think he’s dying. Oh shit, he needs help!”

“Shh, Brent, please don’t. The pets will come in, and they’ll take you too.”

“So fucking what! These bastards are killing us one by one. I’m damn sure not gonna just

sit here and let them do it without a fucking fight. What’s wrong with you?” he yelled. He kicked

at the cage, his voice echoing off the walls of the room. The other boys began begging him to

shut up. He didn’t hear them; all he heard was the train rushing through his head.

“Dammit, Brent, please don’t do this to us! Christian is okay. He’s okay. Please?” Joshua

begged.

Brent looked at Joshua and wiped the tears from his eyes. He wanted to scream until he

was deaf, until those crazy fucks came for him and just ended the nightmare of his life. He

couldn’t take living in this prison another day. He was starving, thirsty, and filthy. Death had to

be better. He looked at Christian, who still lay with his eyes closed. He looked almost peaceful;

maybe it was for the best. It sure as hell beat this.

Brent did all he could to control the rage that was boiling up inside his head. He didn’t

want to upset Joshua, as the man had enough going on. But, God, all he wanted was just some

semblance of a normal life. What would that be like? All he’d ever known was a pat on the back

after a quick blow job or fuck. He’d never been held, never been hugged. His own mother had

hated him from birth, couldn’t stand the sight of him, which is why she gave him up to the boys’

home when he was seven. The only two people who had ever been kind to him, no matter how

many times he snapped at them, were Sebastian and Joshua. He closed his eyes and took a deep

breath. “I’m sorry, Josh. I’m sorry.”

“Shh, I hear something. I think they’re coming,” Josh said. He craned his neck to see the

door, staring at it with hope in his eyes. “It may be Seb.”

“Or juice,” Brent whispered.

The door opened and Joshua gasped. Brent screamed.

Chapter Nine

“Paul? Oh God! Paul, where’s our son?”

Paul froze. He couldn’t make himself turn around to look at his husband. Nicholas had

only been awake for a few days, and the last thing Paul wanted to do was say something that

would hamper his full recovery. Nicholas had one final test to take later that afternoon; the

doctors were still puzzled by the coma and were being precautious, for which Paul was grateful.

It probably also didn’t hurt that he and Nicholas had made several generous monetary

contributions to the hospital over the years, which might account for the extra attention. Nicholas

would likely be released the next day.

Nicholas hadn’t remembered a thing about that night yet, and Paul preferred it that way.

The less Nicholas had to suffer, the better off he’d be.

“Paul! Where is our son? Please tell me that what I’m seeing in my mind is a bad

nightmare. Please tell me our Christian is okay.”

Paul took a deep breath and turned to face his husband. “You remember?”

The tears in Nicholas’s eyes overflowed. He grabbed at the box of tissues on the table

and set them on his lap, nodding slowly and laying back on his pillow. He yanked tissue after

tissue out of the small box until he held a handful. He gasped a few times and held his breath,

waving his hand as though to clear the air.

Exhaling, he said, “It was that Dwight boy.” Nicholas then gave into the abject agony and

sobbed like he’d never done in his life.

Paul went to him and took Nicholas’s shaking hand in his. He couldn’t stop his own tears

from falling; he didn’t want to. It’d been so damn hard to stay strong and pretend everything was

okay, when it was anything but. Now that Nicholas had confirmed what Lucca and the others

said, it made this whole situation seem even worse. Sure, that Dwight boy had their son, but

where?

A few false leads had led them to some remote area in New Mexico, but those leads had

run straight to nowhere. Tony, Carl’s friend, mentioned that it was possible Christian had been

taken into Mexico, but if that was the case, the chances of finding him alive were slim to none.

American citizens, especially ones like their Christian, brought their kidnappers immense wealth.

Christian’s light hair and fair skin would be in great demand in Mexico. He’d most likely be sold

into prostitution rather than as a field worker, or God only knew what else. Paul shuddered,

thinking about what their son must be going through right now.

Lucca had called a couple of times but hadn’t told Paul anything he didn’t already know.

The calls were made mostly to check on Nicholas. There’d been no contact from anyone wanting

a ransom, which meant only one thing...this was a vendetta.

“Paul, answer me. Where’s our son? Tell me this is just a nightmare. Tell me our son is at

home with Lucca.”

Paul had a hard time swallowing, never mind talking. He leaned down and took Nicholas

in his arms and held him for several long minutes before he could find the courage to confirm his

husband’s suspicions.

“From what we’ve learned, darling, Dwight has kidnapped our son.”

The look on Nicholas’s face, the despair in his eyes, nearly killed Paul.

“No! Not again, Paul. Not again,” Nicholas cried out, trying to pull out of Paul’s strong

hold. “What in the name of God are you doing here? Go find our son! You promised me that no

one would ever have the opportunity to take him from me again! He’s my baby! Oh God, please

give me my son back!” He continued to try to pull away, but finding it impossible, he resorted to

hitting Paul’s back with his fists as he once again fell into deep sobs.

Paul held onto Nicholas, whispering words of comfort and crying with him. “Lucca will

find him. There’s a team of his friends out there searching for him; if anyone can find our son,

they will.”

“If anything has happened to him, Paul, if he’s not with us on this earth any longer, I

don’t want to take another breath. If that evil boy took our baby and killed him, I will follow.”

Paul shut his eyes and tried to ignore what he’d just heard, but he knew it to be true.

Nicholas would do it. Nicholas would kill himself if their son was dead. Paul’s heart was so

heavy he felt it in the pit of his stomach, beating so hard he felt like throwing up.

“Shh, no, baby. Please don’t say this. I can’t do life without you.”

Nicholas shoved his husband away and glared at him. “You promised me that our son

wouldn’t ever go through that hell again. You promised me! You hired guards to watch him for

us, yet my son is out there somewhere, and where are you? You’re here, sitting with me day after

day, when you should be out there finding him! He needs me! He needs help. Damn you! This is

your fault!”

In the darkest recesses of his mind, a place where reason was hidden far away, Nicholas

knew he was being unfair and irrational; he knew very well he’d been the one to allow Christian

to lose the bodyguards that night, but he couldn’t stop the words from pouring out. He hadn’t

meant to lash out at Paul, but he had to find an outlet for the gut wrenching guilt and pain he felt,

so he purged his soul of its anguish, and Paul was his victim.

Paul raked his fingers through his hair, then wiped his face off with the sleeve of his t-

shirt. His heart had shattered. All he could do was stare at the man he’d lived his life for, the

father of his son. He wanted to say something but couldn’t. Instead, he turned away and looked

out the window, out over the desert that surrounded them.

“Dammit, Paul! Go get my son! Don’t just stand there. They’ll kill my baby this time.

Damn you, Paul! Damn you!”

Paul died a little each time those pain filled words fell from Nicholas’s lips. Didn’t he

blame himself enough over what had happened?

“I’m sorry, hon. I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t wanna hear it! You told me you’d take care of us. You were always jealous of

my relationship with our son. You’re glad to see him gone, aren’t you?” Nicholas shrieked, well

beyond the point of rational thinking.

Paul’s whole world toppled just then. The blood rushed to his head in waves of pain and

sadness. He cried; he let the tears fall and tried to cry the pain away.

“How could you even think that? I have given both of you my whole life. I have loved

you, cherished you and that boy. How can you say that? He’s my son too! He’s my fucking

blood, Nicholas. He’s my son. We used my sperm for the procedure, not yours! Don’t you dare

sit there and accuse me of not caring and being jealous. That’s fucking insane! I love that boy as

much as I love you! You want to put the blame on someone, my dear husband? Look in the

goddamn mirror! You allowed him to dodge his security guards! You were right there with

Christian, and you allowed that bastard, Dwight, to do this to us! You knew how unsettled

Christian always was, yet you just stood by while he put the both of you in danger. If you want to

blame someone, blame yourself!” Paul stood motionless, pegged to the floor, the only movement

coming from his heaving chest. He was sorry the moment he said the words.

And there it was, the ugly truth that had been hovering between them, finally exposed.

“Oh!” Nicholas screeched loudly enough to bring in doctors, nurses, and security. “You’re vile!

You’re nasty, vile, and hateful!”

“Fuck,” Paul said under his breath. He’d handled this all wrong. Instead of keeping his

mouth shut and allowing Nicholas to have his say, to try to manage his pain, he’d blown up at

him. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m very sorry,” he said again as he was being pulled away from the man

he loved more than life itself.

“Paul, maybe it’s best that you leave for a while. Go home and get some rest; take a

shower. We’re giving him a sedative to settle him down a bit. This is not good for his recovery.”

Paul looked over the doctor’s shoulder at his husband, who was now being restrained. “I

can’t leave him, George. He’s going to need me,” he said sadly. “He can’t be alone.”

“He’s calming now. The sedative will have him out for a while, and you need to rest too,

Paul. The last thing we need is for you to end up next to him, collapsed from exhaustion. Now, I

can have security escort you out, or you can leave on your own. I’m officially throwing you out

of the hospital.”

Paul wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and nodded. “You’ll call me the moment

he wakes up? If he calls out for me, and I’m not here…”

“He’s in good hands, Paul. Now, go on; he’s almost in dream world already.”

More like nightmare land, Paul thought ruefully. “There’s just so much stress and shit

with our son missing. Nicholas remembers everything. They’re very close.”

“I know. I’ve been Christian’s physician since he was a baby, remember? We’re all

hoping for his safe return, but my main concern at the moment must be Nicholas. Now go on

home.”

Paul laid his hand on the doctor’s shoulder and squeezed. “Take good care of him. He’s

my world.”

“And you’re his.”

Paul walked to the door, feeling as though his whole world had stopped spinning. “Not

anymore, I’m not. I’ll find his son if it’s the last thing I do for him.”

“He’s upset, Paul. Things will look better after you’ve both had some rest.”

“Yeah, whatever you say,” he mumbled as he left the room.

*****

The drive home was a long one. All he could think about was the basis of his and

Nicholas’s relationship. Was Christian the reason Nicholas had stayed with him? He couldn’t

believe that. They’d been a couple all through school. They’d built a solid relationship before

bringing Christian into it. No! Nicholas loved him; he was just upset. They all were. Maybe

Nicholas was right; maybe he needed to stop sitting around and help Lucca and the others find

their son.

Three hours later, the phone began ringing off the hook, but Paul was dead to the world,

asleep. A few shots of brandy had helped with the insomnia. Until he felt someone shaking him

awake, that is. He lifted his heavy eyelids, saw James, and closed them again.

“Go ‘way,” he slurred into his pillow.”

“Paul, come on and get up.”

He jerked away from the touch and burrowed deeper into his pillow.

“Did ya find my son?”

“No, Paul, it’s Nicholas.”

Chapter Ten

“You fucking bastards!” Joshua yelled out. “You’re sick! All of you are rotten to the

cores of your pitch black souls.” His heart pounded brutally in his chest, and a sharp intake of

breath got stuck in his throat, blocking off his airway and making him gasp for air. He blinked a

few times, trying to stop the angry tears that gathered. All he saw was red.

“Master Evan sends his regards. He really wanted to be the one to personally deliver this

piece of shit back to his cage, but something suddenly came up. I have a message from the

Masters to all of you in this training room: the next time any of you thinks to open your mouths,

even in a whisper, you will suffer the same results.”

Joshua watched in absolute horror as the two pony boys shoved a nearly unconscious

Sebastian into the room. He cried out at the mistreatment of the sweetest person he’d ever known

and loved. His boy had done nothing to deserve this, and to see him this way was killing him.

Sebastian never made so much as a peep as he fell to the concrete, landing on his hands

and knees.

“Leave him alone!” Joshua demanded, weaving his fingers through the squares of his

cage. Joshua cried out when one of the mindless pain sluts snickered and lunged at Seb, kicking

him dead on in the stomach.

Joshua and Brent watched helplessly as the kick sent Sebastian rolling into Brent’s cage.

Still, Sebastian made not a sound. Brent yelled, trying to fit his small hand through the cage wall.

He needed to comfort his friend but found there was truly no comfort to be given; Sebastian’s

eyes were lifeless.

“Oh, baby. What did they do to you?” Joshua saw Sebastian’s bruised and battered body

lying still as death. Only the shallow rise and fall of the younger boy’s chest told anyone he was

still hanging on to life.

Sebastian had been beaten, almost to death. The angry, seeping welts he wore now,

matched Christians, covering him from shoulders to feet. His poor, thin arms looked as though

someone had wrapped them with a coarse rope that had eaten into his ashen skin.

“Oh, Seb,” he cried out. Sebastian’s angel face looked to be one big bruise. Master/slave

training, my ass, he thought. This was abuse, nothing more and nothing less than torture and

abuse. “We’re here, baby. Brent and I, we’re here.”

“We warned ya, boy!” Pony boy said, laughing. “Let’s show them how serious Master is,

Pony Steve.”

“No!” Brent screamed out. His heart thumped wildly away in his chest as the boys

grabbed Sebastian’s feet and dragged him to the center of the room.

“Oh Christ, Brent, they’re gonna hang him! Seb!” Joshua roared. He grabbed the side of

the cage and yanked with all his might.

“Master has warned you,” Pony Steve said. He grabbed a fist full of Sebastian’s long,

blonde hair and yanked. Sebastian was forced to his feet, not standing on his own but merely

being supported by the roots of his hair. He didn’t have the strength to do more than breathe.

“You sonsabitches, leave my boy alone! You want someone to throw around? I’m right.

Fucking. Here!” Joshua shouted over Brent’s screams. “What did he do to deserve this? You

both know him; you trained with him months ago. How can you do this to him?”

Joshua watched as they took great joy in petting the angry, red lines that marred his

baby’s body, smearing the blood from head to foot.

“It’s not about what he did. Not anymore. He was already punished for that, weren’t you,

pretty, target boy?”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Brent snapped.

“Oh fuck! They’re using my boy to control us.” Joshua looked at the other boys. “Aren’t

you?”

Both of the Pony boys smiled.

Steve said, “You’re very smart. I’m so glad you got it early or else we might have had to

do this all night, and poor Seb here wouldn’t have made it. We have his coffin ready. He’ll hang

right here, prepared to take your discipline. Step out of line, speak out at will, refuse your

Masters their due, and your pretty piece of shit here will take your punishment. Master has a big

sale coming up very soon, and he wants his boys in tip-top shape. Rather than marring all of you,

he’ll continue to mar this one up instead, so a word of advice; behave and do just as you’re told,

and maybe, just maybe, this one will live through it.”

“You idiot!” the other boy snapped. “You weren’t supposed to tell them that.”

“What difference does it make? It’s not like the Masters ever hear these slaves anyway.”

He looked at Brent and grinned evilly. “Say one more word, make one more noise, and I have

permission to use a cattle prod on his pretty prick. Wanna test me and see?”

Brent gasped and shook his head several times, biting on his lips to keep quiet. He was

unwilling to test them; he knew they’d do it just for the joy of it, or for the spite; either way, he

wasn’t going to push them. And to think, these were the same two boys he’d held in his arms

while they cried and begged to be released. Now they were total strangers, inhuman and

corrupted.

“They’ll behave. Now, let’s see how Master Dwight’s slave is doing. It’s been almost

eight hours since he’s had his medicine. I imagine he’s not feeling too hot right about now.”

“Master Dwight put more medicine in his juice today. I overheard him talking on the

phone. Apparently, this slave is going to be sold to some guy in Egypt who owns a harem or

some such shit.”

“I thought he wanted to keep this one?”

“Nope, this pretty boy is worthless. He can’t take two cocks up his ass and one in his

mouth at the same time. What good is he? Little sissy bitch cried like a banshee before he passed

out. Master Evan suggested a bigger dildo be stuck in his ass to stretch him for the next time, but

Master Dwight says he’s lost interest and isn’t into sloppy seconds.”

Pony Steve smiled. “I wish they’d do that to me. I love it when they take me at the same

time. I get to come when I don’t fight it, and it’s amazing.”

His friend laughed and unlocked Christian’s cage door. “I just had the Masters this

morning, the both of them, and they were in rare form. If I’m lucky, they’ll keep me here.”

Brent’s mouth went slack as he watched the two boys drag Christian out of his cage, feet

first. He looked over at Joshua, who was still staring at Sebastian as tears ran down his face. This

was beyond madness. This was insane to the highest level of insanity. He watched them kick at

Christian, then laugh. Brent rolled his eyes in anger and growled low in his throat. The poor, rich

boy was shaking and looking up at the Pony fucks, begging them for a drink. Christian never

tried to protect himself against their feet; he just looked at the bottle one of them held in front of

his face, teasing him with it.

Brent wanted to scream at Christian and tell him not to drink that poison, but if he did, he

knew what those crazy boys would do to Sebastian. Helplessly, he watched Christian kneel

before those sorry excuses for human beings and beg for a drink. Whatever was in that juice, it

was being used to control several of the prisoners. They had to be drugged, as strung out as they

were.

“That’s it, pretty slut. Beg for your juice.”

Christian never said a word; he merely grabbed hold of Steve’s shirt and pulled like a

child would. It seemed to be enough for the Pony, though, because he handed the bottle to

Christian, who drank it down in one gulp. Maybe that was the answer; maybe that was the way

out for all of them, Brent thought. A simple overdose would put them to sleep peacefully, and

none of them would ever have to feel unloved, unwanted, and used again.

He looked back at Sebastian and noticed he was alert and crying. Though he was silent,

he was crying. The poor kid was in so much pain. He looked down and noticed the small pool of

blood at Seb’s feet and felt his stomach roll. There would be no way the boy could stay that way

for long; they’d kill him. He glanced at Joshua and wanted to die. He began silently praying to a

God who’d abandoned him a long time ago, begging for death to come and claim him.

He felt anger and despair building up in his chest; it was suffocating him, cutting off his

air and rational thought. This madness had to stop, and it had to stop now before they were all

killed. He heard a yelp and turned back to Christian, and when he did, he lost it. They were

getting ready to fuck him, both of them at the same time! It had to stop!

“No! Dammit, you can’t do this to us! We’re free people. We are not slaves, you fucking

pigs. Leave him alone!” he shouted, crying and screaming at the top of his lungs.

He’d rather be living on the streets, begging, robbing, and being raped, than to live this

way another minute. One way or the other, these crazed, sorry lumps of human flesh would kill

them all.

Brent resolved to make it easy for them. He continued to rant and scream, never once

taking his eyes from Sebastian or Christian. He didn’t hear Joshua begging him to stop, nor did

he see the two pony boys run from the room as though the hounds of hell were right at their feet.

He grabbed at the wall of his cage and shook it as hard as he could; he kicked at it with

all he had, even given the fact that he was nearly curled into a ball. He couldn’t make sense of

anything anymore. He wanted to die! He begged for someone to kill him, and when his cage

door opened, he went wild.

He was dragged out of his prison cell by his legs; he thrashed frantically, laughing when

he felt his foot connect with someone’s leg. He laughed louder when that someone yelped out in

pain, then gasped when he was hit full on with a stream of cold water that took his breath away.

He stood alone, shivering and facing several Pony boys, as well as his Masters, and none

of them looked pleased. Water dripped unnoticed down his face, onto his back and chest, down

his thin torso, then to his feet where a puddle gathered. Only after it was quiet did he realize what

he’d done. He glanced over where Seb hanged and wiped his eyes.

“You’re not going alone, Seb. I’m right here,” he whispered.

Brent looked over to those so called Masters and snarled, “You call yourselves Masters.

You say you’re Masters, but I want to know of what? Pain, humiliation, fear? What is it you’re

Masters of? We don’t kneel at your feet out of obedience; we do it to eat! We don’t call you

Master because it feels right to us; we call you that so we’re allowed to live. All you succeed in,

you fucking pricks, is humiliating us beyond measure! You gain the upper hand, because we’re

too damn helpless to do anything to stop it. You sell us off to sick, sadistic fucks who get their

rocks off raping boys! We are not slaves! We are humans; we have the right to say no! This is

not, contrary to popular belief, a BDSM training camp! It’s fucking hell! And you two are the

devil’s spawn. I’d rather die than to suffer one more day with you two perverted freaks! What

you do with one another is incest, and it’s twisted. The whole reason you have to keep us in

cages like animals is because we wouldn’t stay if we had a choice. I hope you both rot in the

seventh circle of Hell!”

“That is enough, slave! For your disobedience, you will suffer gravely! Hand me my

whip!”

“Yeah, that’s it! That’s the answer!” Brent screamed behind a crazed laugh at Evan. “You

better hope like fuck you kill me this time because I swear to you, if you don’t, I. Will. Kill.

You!”

Brent snarled when the well trained zombie handed his master his tool of choice. “Do it!

Fucking do it!” He watched with wild eyes as that whip was raised. He watched Evan flick his

wrist and heard the hiss of the whip coming right at him. He ducked and it missed!

He laughed and took a few steps closer to the man. “Missed me, fuckwit.”

“You’re dead!” Evan roared. “Seize him. I want him restrained.”

One of the boys held Brent up by his hair while the other grabbed the chains that hung

above them.

“You’ll all learn who rules around here. Let this be a reminder.”

They secured Brent’s wrists into the leather cuffs and let him go. Almost immediately,

Brent’s legs fell out from under him, leaving him hanging and at anyone’s mercy.

“No! For the love of God, please don’t do this to him!” Joshua cried out when one of the

boys hit the power switch to the pulley. Brent was yanked up by the torturous device until his

toes just barely touched the floor.

“Dear Lord. Oh God! Brent, hold on!” Joshua panted. “They’ll kill him! Someone has to

help him!” Joshua cried out again, looking around as if help would come through the door at any

moment. “Let him down! You know him. You both know what this’ll do to him. Please?” Joshua

begged. He stared, open mouthed in disbelief, as the Master lifted his arm and let the whip fly.

“Brent!”

The whip curled itself cruelly around Brent’s body, leaving a fine line of blood in its

wake. Brent’s eyes widened in alarm and pain, but no sound escaped his throat.

“Brent!”

Brent turned to look at Joshua for a brief second. He heard the whip coming again, and

just as he turned to face his attacker, he felt an ungodly amount of heat across his eye and cheek.

For long moments, he was stunned; then he felt wetness running down his face. He felt the pain

burning, searing so deeply that it almost felt numb. He tried closing his eyes against the brutal

agony blasting from his skill, but his left eye wouldn’t close completely for some reason. He was

lowered then, and he fell to the floor below with a hard thud. He heard Joshua yelling; he heard

the Masters yelling and giving orders, and he felt himself being mauled alive. He smiled as

darkness settled over him.

*****

Joshua rocked himself back and forth in his cage, sobbing, and covering his ears against

Brent’s anger filled voice. He wanted to stop looking at Brent. He was sure Brent was dead;

there was no sign from him that he was still among the living, and suddenly Joshua found

himself alone, scared, and missing that sarcastic boy who loved in spite of his circumstances.

There was no way in hell these crazy bastards could get away with this, but he didn’t know how

to stop this madness. If they kept beating Brent, they’d kill him, then throw him away, just like

they did the other boys.

Chapter Eleven

“Carl, it’s been two weeks. Tell me honestly, do you expect to find him alive?”

“I’m going to be blunt with you; you know the chances of him being found alive dwindle

by the day, but we’re still doing everything we can to find him, Lucca. I have men scattered all

over trying to get a hit on this. Ryan has hacked every hospital’s computer mainframe in the

United States. If anyone fitting Christian’s description shows up at any U.S. hospital or is taken

into police custody, for that matter, Ryan will know about it. A couple of us are in touch with the

BDSM underground as well. I have a team of guys who owe me favors, watching the borders

and shit. If that boy is alive, we’ll find him.”

Lucca rubbed his dry, tired eyes and nodded. He needed to learn how to trust people.

Hell, if he couldn’t trust his ex-Master, who could he trust? His life with Carl seemed forever

ago, yet it was as though no time had passed. It would be so easy to just let it all go and let Carl

deal with this, but this was his life, and this was his boy who was missing. Trying to hide and

allowing Carl to do this alone was something he’d never consent to. He wanted to be right there

when his lover was found—good or bad. To think about losing his green eyed imp brought terror

to his heart, his mind, and fresh tears to his eyes. Beneath it all still lay a mist of anger, anger at

his boy that he had no right to feel. But damn, why in the hell couldn’t his boy have shared this

with him?

He sat back and laid his head on the back of the booth they sat in, eating a light lunch.

Looking up at the white painted ceiling, he sighed and closed his eyes. He was so damn bone

weary tired, never getting more than a couple of hours of sleep at night since Christian’s

disappearance.

“I just hope when he is found that he’s solid enough to work his way back to us as a

whole person. You know what he’s going through in that fuck’s hands is anything but sane.”

“Lucca, that boy will be okay. He’s strong minded; you told me that yourself. Whichever

way you get him back, all he needs to know is that you’re going to be there for him. You have

the power to repair the damage done. To think any less of yourself, to belittle yourself, has never

sat well with me, and you know that,” Carl said in a low, warning voice.

Lucca nodded, remembering those lessons with Carl well. It had helped to make him a

stronger person, a better one.

“Inside, Christian isn’t as strong as we would have believed. You read that diary. You

know what’s in it. What if I can’t fix the inside? Here we are, three years together, and I never

knew the real him. It makes me sick when I allow myself to think about it. Were there clues that

I missed? Messages he tried to send me that I overlooked? Where did I fail that boy so

miserably?”

Carl took the last drink of his iced tea, set the cup to the side, and took a deep breath

before he answered, “I’d say he also failed you, as well as his parents, Lucca. You couldn’t force

him to speak about what was truly inside himself. It’s not as if he verbally or physically asked

you for help. He hid it all and hid it well. Why sit here and try to take that weight from his back

and apply it to yours? Did you offer him the chance to speak freely about his past and about his

inner demons?”

“Yes, all the time. He has this way about him, though, Carl. He makes you think that

maybe you’ve just imagined what you know you’ve heard. He has this gift to turn the concern

around and make light of it.”

“And you knew this, yet didn’t press him? Or did you just avoid it and hope it would go

away? Having a relationship is anything but easy, and for you to expect it to be so, makes you

delusional. You need to be brought back to reality. Avoiding isn’t fixing.”

Lucca felt the sharpness of Carl’s tone and inwardly cringed. Leave it to Carl to throw all

the cards on the table and dare you to tell him any differently. “I don’t know that I can fix this.

I’ve let it all go on for far too long, and I really don’t know what to do to try to help him when he

does come back. I don’t know how to get over what I’ve learned about him; that there were

things he never shared with me that he should have, not because I wanted him to, but because he

wanted to, because he loved me. How do I trust that he’ll ever tell me the truth again? Where

does that come from?”

Carl’s phone started jumping around on the table, and for a moment, they both stared at it

as though it had grown a head with fangs.

“It’s them,” Carl said, grabbing at it and tapping the touch screen. “Talk to me,” he said

quietly.

Lucca’s heart raced in anticipation, his eyes never leaving Carl’s lips. He just knew this

was about his boy; he felt it.

“We’re on the way. Whatever you do, do not leave the hospital. I’ll have the jet there

within the hour.” Carl grabbed his keys off the table and scooted his long body out of the booth.

“We gotta go. Now!”

Lucca froze; he couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe, and coherent thinking went right out

the door with Carl.

“Lucca! Now!” Carl snapped from the diner’s swinging door. “Move it!”

“Christian,” Lucca whispered, following Carl out the door.

*****

“What the hell do you mean he’s gone? I left him for a couple of hours, and he’s gone?

Where is he? Where did he go?” Paul stood at the detective’s car, glaring at his old friend.

“When was he last seen? Did he leave a note? I swear to God, if something has happened to him,

I’ll bring the wrath of hell down, not only on your department but on that hospital as well. Where

were my men when he left?”

“Now, Paul…” James began, but the withering look Paul gave him made him snap his

mouth shut.

“Don’t you ‘now, Paul’ me. Have you looked for him? Where are my men?” Paul pulled

his cell phone out of his pocket and locked the seatbelt in place. He didn’t wait for the detective

to respond; he immediately dialed for the hired men who were supposed to be watching his

husband. None of them were safe, not as long as Dwight was free. Lord only knew what tricks

that sick kid had up his sleeves.

“Ricky!” Paul shouted into the phone. “Where is he? You better not tell me you don’t

know. If you or your men left him for any length of time, you’re all done.” He glanced up to the

mountains, his husband’s beloved mountains, and sighed.

“Sir, he was sound asleep, so Peter ran down to the cafeteria to get something to eat. He

was gone for fifteen minutes at the most, but when he got back, Nicholas was gone. He alerted

hospital security, but they weren’t able to find him. That’s when I was called.”

“And where exactly are you and your men?”

“We’re looking, sir. He didn’t catch a cab or a bus; he may have gotten a ride with

someone. We’re looking.”

Just fucking lovely! When his husband got a wild hair up his ass, there was no telling

what he’d do. He wouldn’t put it past him to walk where he had to go in his hospital gown, that

prissy little ass of his swinging in the breeze. Paul rolled his eyes and brushed his hair back with

his free hand. He forced himself to count to ten and glared at James when he didn’t take off right

as the light turned green.

To Ricky, he said, “Did anyone think to watch the security tapes?”

He raised his brow at James and looked at the light. “You do realize it’s a green light,

right?”

“Sir, he’s been missing for less than an hour. I’m on my way to the hospital to take a look

at the tapes right now. I should be there within twelve minutes.”

“Call me as soon as you’ve seen them. And Ricky?”

“Yes, sir?”

“My husband, better be found.”

“Yes, sir. We’ll do all we can, sir.”

Paul laid his phone in his lap and looked out the passenger side window. He shook his

head in annoyance at both his husband and himself. How in the world did they let this happen to

them? They were happy. They were a family and they had everything. Or did they? Was it all an

illusion? Was it all a show? Was what they had special, or had it all been built on silly dreams?

These same questions and doubts kept lingering in his mind.

“He’s stubborn, Paul. You know he is.”

Paul licked his dry lips and slowly nodded. Yes, his lover was indeed stubborn. In fact,

Nicholas gave the word stubborn a whole new meaning.

“Stop reading my mind, James, and help me find my husband. He’s not okay out here. He

could be hurt, or someone might find him and…”

“No. Now you stop right there,” James said, growling at the red light. “Nicholas is just

fine. He’s been through a lot, and he’s very emotional. With him just regaining his memory of

that night, it may have…”

Paul sat up and looked at James, his eyes wide, his lips slightly parted. “Take me to

where you found him that night, the night our son went missing. Take me there!”

James looked at him as though a light bulb came on. “Of course! On our way.” He

flipped the sirens on, hit the middle turn lane, and made a U-turn. “I love having all the bells and

whistles,” he said, grinning.

“That you do. What does Jason think of the bells and whistles?”

“They turn his hot ass on. It’s a damn good thing we live in the midst of cactus valley,

over in Vail, huh? No one complains when we play cops and robbers,” he answered, snickering.

Paul grinned. “He’s one spoiled man.”

James laughed and shook his head. “Not as bad as your Nicholas is. I heard about the

throw rug he found.”

“Oh, you can’t mean the one from Ireland? Damn thing cost me a bundle. I offered to sell

my eye teeth but was turned down; cold hard cash was all they would take. Of course, my

Nicholas just had to have the wall tapestry to match it.”

“Oh, I can just imagine. Jason fell in love with the, how did he say it? Elaborate, intricate,

elegant design pattern of the triquetra.” He looked at Paul and said, “Did I say that right?”

“Sounds about right. I asked if the silver threading was genuine, considering how

expensive it was.”

“I’m sure he was appalled?”

“Well, you know my Nicholas. He gasped, threw his hand to his heart, then stormed off,

giggling.”

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes to steady his nerves. How in the hell could he

be sitting here chitchatting and bitching about the cost of those items anyway? His husband was

missing, just like his son was, and he was concerned over the money thing. Please, let him be

okay.

“I heard from Lucca earlier.”

Paul spun his head to look at him. “You heard from him? What did he say? Why didn’t

you tell me?”

“Well, I was on my way to your place to tell you what he said when the call came in that

Nicholas was missing, so I took the call and here I am.”

“What did Lucca say?

“ He and Carl are on their way to New Mexico. He called from the jet and asked me to

keep a close eye on you and Nicholas. He said they may have found something and would call

later.”

“New Mexico? What’s in New Mexico?” Should he live on the hope that maybe they’d

found a clue as to Christian’s whereabouts? No, because hope led to let down.

“I don’t know. I just know what he said. Okay, we’re getting close, just around the next

corner.”

Paul swallowed the dry lump that took root in his throat. He strummed his fingers on the

dashboard and stared at the dump truck in front of them, ignoring the lights and siren coming

from the car. “Does this happen often?”

“More times than I care to say. No one seems to understand that the noise and lights

mean emergency anymore. It’s not helping that it’s rush hour either. He has no place to move off

to, so we can get by.”

The light must have changed because the big truck began rolling slowly, giving James

just enough room to make the turn into the alley that Paul had never wanted to see. His

nightmares had shown him what had happened that night in graphic detail, with very little

variation. It always ended with his husband lying in a pool of blood and his son never being seen

or heard from again. He was now down to a couple of hours of sleep a day. He hated to shut his

eyes.

“Nicholas!” he yelled, even before James made the complete turn into the alley. There he

was! His husband stood against a big, green garbage can, staring down at the road. “Hurry,

James. Oh, thank you, God!”

“Amen,” James said.

“Put a call in to his doctor; let him know he’s okay, and we’ll have him back as soon as

possible.” Paul had the door open and was out of the car before it came to a complete stop, not a

foot from Nicholas. He looked at the man he loved more than life itself. He was a sight for sore

eyes, even dressed in that damn hospital gown. His bright green sweats had been pulled up to his

knees, and his feet were covered by slippers.

“Oh, baby. I’m so damn sorry,” he said when he saw that Nicholas was crying. It was all

his fault. He’d turned on his husband and made him this way; he’d said things he shouldn’t have,

and now he damned himself to hell for it. He’d sooner cut off his right arm than to hurt Nicholas.

The man had a heart of solid gold; he was the kindest man he’d ever met, and Paul didn’t believe

these things because he was biased; he knew these things because they were the truth. All he

wanted to do was rush to him and wrap him in his arms.

“Go away, Paul. You just go on, and I’ll find your son.”

Paul stopped his pursuit, his heart in his stomach. Nicholas was still upset, and he really

didn’t blame him. Of all the coldhearted things to say to a loved one, what he’d said to Nicholas

was beyond forgiveness. They’d each said things they hadn’t meant, but it was too late to take

those awful words back. From here, the only thing they could do was try to move forward.

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry about what I said. You know I didn’t mean any of it. I was

just…”

Nicholas sniffled and turned his back to Paul. “Of course you meant it, or you would

have never said such despicable things to me. I was thinking about it on my way here. You, in all

these years, have never said anything that mean and hurtful to me. It kills me to think that you

have harbored those ill feelings toward me all this time. You’ve hidden it well; I’ll give you that.

“I might not have been able to donate my sperm to create that child of yours, but I’ve

been in his life just as long.” He wiped his nose and grabbed another tissue out of his pocket. “If

you’ve felt this way, why didn’t you ever say anything about it? How could you believe those

things and still love me as you claimed to?” He turned to look at Paul. “You and Christian are all

the family I have. Or all I had. Dammit, Paul, I never even thought of that baby in those terms, as

yours or mine. He was always ours.”

“He is ours. That hasn’t changed,” Paul answered quietly.

“I have never, or I’ve tried never to hurt you. What you said to me is unforgivable.”

Paul’s heart did a triple beat. The sun suddenly heated up another fifteen degrees, and he

was unable to find the strength to take the last few steps to be near his husband.

“I’m so sorry. Dear God, you’ll never know how sorry I am, baby.”

Nicholas nodded. “Me too.” He looked back down at the big spot he’d been staring at and

wiped his eyes with the tissue he’d been holding. “We promised each other that our son would

always come first in our lives, and we’d do anything to protect him. We succeeded at the former

but failed miserably at the latter, not once but twice. How could we have failed him so terribly?”

He wiped his eyes and looked at Paul. “You’re right, you know. I’m sure you’ll take great joy in

knowing that it is my fault that Christian is missing.”

Paul shook his head and took a couple baby steps closer to Nicholas, who didn’t seem to

notice.

“Why did I allow him to elude the men we hired to protect him? How could I have failed

him? Why didn’t I know he was in danger? How could I have allowed those people to take him

from us? From me?! Jesus!”

Paul’s vision was blurry; he blinked to clear his eyes of the hot tears, then tried to clear

his throat. The damn guilt tore through him like a freight train until he felt as though he would

just burst. He threw caution to the wind and took steps to be closer to his distraught husband.

“Don’t!” Nicholas shouted, glaring at him. “Don’t come near me. How can you even

want to be here? I lost our son! He’s gone because I failed to protect him, and you want to be

near me?”

He looked at Paul, eyes filled with grief and something like disgust. “Were you thinking

that maybe I wanted this to happen to him because he’s not mine, because he doesn’t have my

blood running through his veins? I mean, how does something like this happen to the same

family twice? I’m sure you hold me responsible. Why are you even here? Go away!” Nicholas

spun away from Paul and leaned his head against the brick building, sobbing.

Paul couldn't believe his ears. Nicholas was taking this on his shoulders and blaming

himself. His husband was taking what he’d said to heart and letting it eat at him. His damn

mouth never knew when to just shut up.

“Baby, I blame you for nothing, except maybe for giving us your all and holding nothing

back for yourself. I know how much you love us, how much you love him. You’ve been the

perfect father, the perfect lover, partner, and husband. Please don’t allow my careless words to

do this to us, to you. I love you. I want to be with you; I want to hold you and take care of you.

You’re my life. I need you. We need each other, now more than ever.”

Nicholas looked over at him very briefly, then lowered his eyes and shook his head,

sniffling. “Go away. I lost your son. In spite of what you say now, it’ll only be a matter of time

before you really do blame me, before you hate me for allowing Christian to evade his guards. I

can’t live with that guilt. I can’t live, knowing that I’ve failed you both.”

“No, sweet…”

“Please, just stop it. You say all the right words, but I don’t think you truly believe them.

I had hoped that by coming here, I’d remember more, but I keep seeing those bastards holding

that young, innocent boy so cruelly away from me. He was so scared, Paul. He was crying,

begging for them to let me go, and when that damn gun went off, all I could hear was his scream.

He must think I’m dead. He’s probably so scared and alone.”

Paul ignored Nicholas’s request and went to him anyway. He grabbed his husband in his

arms and held him tight. Nicholas tried to pull away; he tried to shove Paul away, but it was

useless. He was caged in Paul’s arms; he was trapped in Paul’s love.

“Nick, I love you. I’ll always love you, and please believe that I don’t blame anyone but

the people who did this to us. You have never let me down, and you’ve never let our son down.

You’re the most amazing man I have ever met, and you’re our son’s dad, blood or not. He’s as

much your child as he is mine.”

Nicholas left his arms hanging at his sides; his whole body was rigid as a board, and no

matter how tightly Paul held him, Nicholas remained cold and stiff.

“I’m leaving you, Paul. I’ll do what I can to help find your son, but once he’s home, I’m

done. It’s obvious I can’t…”

Paul pushed Nicholas back by the shoulders and gripped them as though his life

depended on it. He felt the blood boiling in his ears, and he fought to keep from yelling.

“He’s our son. Christian is ours. Don’t you dare do this to us! We need you and whether

you admit it or not, you need us too. I will not allow you to walk away and destroy us, Nicholas.

Dammit, I love you!” He wasn’t ashamed when the soft cries turned to sobs. Paul needed his

husband to see and believe he was being sincere. They’d lost Christian, and losing one another

was unacceptable on every level. They needed one another.

“Let me go,” Nicholas said coldly.

Paul looked deep into his eyes and shook his head. “Never. Push me away all you want,

but I will never let you go. Fuck! I have loved you most of my life. You! I love our son more than

life itself, but Nick, I loved you long before we had Christian. Without you, without your love,

I’m nothing.”

“How can you say that?” Nicholas screeched. “He’s your baby! You can’t love me more

than him. He’s a child!”

“He’s not a child! He’s a grown man. He’s our son, and I’ll die inside if anything has

happened to him, but I love you. I love us and without you in my world, it means nothing to me.

Listen to me, Nicholas, and listen well; if you honestly can’t find the love you had for me in your

heart by the time our son comes home, I’ll walk away from you both. I will not make you

miserable.”

Nicholas gasped for air and fell into Paul’s arms, sobbing. “Oh God, what have we

done?”

Paul held him and patted his back, whispering into his ear. “I love you. Before, now, and

always.” They stood there holding one another for several minutes, but all too soon, Nicholas

dropped his arms to his sides and told Paul to let him go.

“I think I need to go back to the hospital. I’m not well. Will you please call a cab for

me?”

Paul stood back and looked into Nicholas’s eyes. “Did you not hear a damn word I said?”

“I have nothing more to say to you, Paul,” Nicholas replied coldly as he spun away and

walked to the waiting police car. “James, how nice to see you. If you wouldn’t mind taking me

back to the hospital, I’d be so grateful. I’m not feeling very well, and I’m afraid my doctor will

be a little upset with me. I sorta left without his permission.”

James glanced at Paul and nodded. “Get in.”

Nicholas held his head up and walked to the passenger side of the car. He opened the

front door and promptly sat down, leaving the door open. He stared straight ahead, not even

moving when Paul shut the door and got in the back.

The ride back to the hospital was quiet and extremely tense. When they made it inside,

the doctor was waiting on them with an aide and a wheelchair. Nicholas was rushed back to his

room for an examination, and Paul was asked to wait in the hallway with James; neither man had

anything to say. Nicholas had set the mood that both men were lost to. Thirty minutes later, Paul

was told to go home because Nicholas needed rest. The doctor said he’d call him later the next

day with Nicholas’s release information.

*****

“This is twice in two days. Enough is enough.”

“Paul, I can assure you that Nicholas is okay. I released him earlier this morning, and he

was picked up by a member of your staff.”

“And did you think to call me? I’m his husband, for God’s sake,” Paul snapped as he

paced the doctor’s office.

He had been running around all day, trying to get his business affairs in order, trying to

make sure that Mario had all of Nicholas’s favorite foods in the house, and he had even ordered a

new lounge chair for his sitting room. Mario never mentioned a thing about Nicholas being home

already.

Work had kept him longer than usual; it was now seven o’clock at night. His husband had

been gone since earlier that morning, and no one had thought to tell him until now? Mario and

the rest of the staff would hear about this; they could count on that for sure.

He’d rushed home but paused in the garage when he didn’t see his husband’s SUV

parked there. Maybe he’d run to the store. He practically ran up the stairs and into the house,

only to be met with total darkness.

“Nicholas? Mario? Where is everyone?” He called out, running up the stairs and finding

nothing.

He ran to the yard and was met with darkness and silence. His heart pounded in his chest.

What if Dwight came back and took them? Hastily, he called Nicholas, mentally kicking himself

for not trying to call him sooner. The phone rang five times, forcing him to listen to a song by a

Lady Gaga or something like that. Just when he was about to hang up, his husband answered the

phone.

“Nicholas! Thank God, you’re okay! Where are you, baby?”

Nicholas paused before answering, making Paul really worry. Things were not looking

too good at all.

“Paul,” Nicholas said.

Paul chose to ignore the snide tone he heard in Nicholas’s voice. “Baby, where are you?

The doctor told me he released you earlier. Why didn’t you call? I could have taken off work to

pick you up.”

Nicholas cleared his throat before answering, “Paul, I’m not coming home. I have Mario

with me, and I stopped by Lucca’s to pick up the puppy…she misses Christian too. I figure we’ll

be perfect for one another right now.”

Paul sat down with a thud on the bar stool, knocking a glass off the counter in the

process. “You’re not coming home? Nick? What the hell do you mean?” The thumping of his

heart told him what he didn’t want to know. Trying to take a steady breath was no easy feat; not

even his throat worked anymore.

“I’m taking a long and very necessary sabbatical. I cannot face you at the moment, Paul. I

need time; I need me time. I can’t deal with things, and I need time to sort things out. I had all of

my clothes and a few personal items removed from your home earlier. I’m borrowing Mario until

I can find someone for myself. I think this is for the best.”

Paul listened with his mouth hanging open. Never in a million years did he think

Nicholas would do something like this. They were too strong, too in love for this to happen.

They had never had a fight like this, and he had no idea how to fix things. He didn’t know what

to do.

“Are you listening to me, Paul?”

Paul nodded his head, then realized Nicholas couldn’t see him through the phone. “Yes,

but I don’t understand why? Nick, please tell me where you are. I’ll come to you, and we can sit

down and talk about this.”

“You don’t understand why? Our son, or rather, your son, as you so kindly pointed out, is

missing and it’s my fault, and I can’t face you right now. I just need time to come to terms with

things. I promise to return Mario as soon as I hire another…”

“Nick! Dammit, baby, please don’t do this to us. You’re all I have. I swear I didn’t mean

a word of it. Christian is our son. He needs you too, sweetheart. Please, come home and let’s fix

this.”

“If you raise your voice to me one more time, I will hang up on you and refuse all of your

calls. Now, I told you I needed time to process all of this, and I can’t do that with you hovering

over me. It’s clear as day that Christian is the only reason we stayed together all this time, and

I’m not too sure how I feel about that.”

Paul hopped on the kitchen counter and laid his head back against the cabinet. “He’s not

the only reason; he just added to us. I’m in love with you. It’s only ever been you. I need you,

Nicholas.”

“Please refrain from calling me unless it has to do with Christian. I’ve taken the liberty

of hiring a team of private investigators to work for me. Hopefully, between your team and mine,

someone will come up with something.”

He was not hearing this! “Lucca’s friend, Carl, has half…”

“I’m hanging up now,” Nicholas said, cutting him off. “If you hear anything, please call

me. Goodbye, Paul.”

To say that Paul was stunned was an understatement. He heard the tone on his phone and

shook his head. Never let it be said that Nicholas wasn’t excessively dramatic. He forced himself

to put his phone on the counter beside him rather than throwing it across the room. In a matter of

two weeks, he’d lost his entire family and had no way to fix any of it.

Chapter Twelve

“Are you going to tell me what the hell is going on? Did they find him? At least tell me

that, Carl. Did they find my boy?” Lucca’s head felt as if it was going to pop right off his

shoulders. Every time his heart beat, his head pounded. They were on their way to some hospital

in Albuquerque, New Mexico, and Carl had been on the phone since they’d left Tucson.

Carl put his cigarette out in the ashtray and looked out of the window, clearly trying to

find the words to explain.

Lucca’s face fell, taking the silence as a bad sign. He looked at Carl, willing him to talk,

to say anything. This wasn’t good. “Please, Carl. Is it him? Did they find Christian?”

Carl looked back to Lucca, his eyes red and watery. “Honestly? I hope to God not,

because the boy that was found isn’t in good shape.”

Lucca let out a shaky breath. “So, it could be him? Is he alive?”

Carl licked his lips and shrugged his shoulders. “All I was told is that the young man who

was found is approximately twenty-one. He’s five-feet-nine-inches tall, about a hundred and

thirty pounds, Caucasian with green eyes. I had Ryan set his programs up to alert him when

anyone fitting that description was seen or found.”

“Like my Christian?” Lucca’s heart tumbled.

“Yes. It’s just sickening, all the reports he’s gone through in just these two weeks. Tony

and another partner of ours, Adrian, have been to ten states and numerous cities, following up on

possible matches. The only reason the flags went up here was because the rancher who found

this young man in his field said that the boy reached out to him with his bloody hand and said,

‘Missing boy found. Please help me help them. They need me.’ The rancher asked his name, but

the boy passed out and has been unconscious ever since. When the police were called, Ryan

received the alert, and the police officer who responded wrote down what the boy said. Ryan

called me immediately. The boy’s physical description fits, Lucca, this could be Christian. I have

Tony and Adrian headed this way from L.A., and they should be here soon. If this is Christian,

we are going to find the sick bastard who took him and end his life.”

Lucca studied Carl’s troubled eyes and silently begged him to fill in the gaps so he

wouldn’t have to ask the questions. But that wasn’t Carl’s way, never had been. “What was done

to the boy?”

Carl looked away, shaking his head as though he didn’t want to say anything. He sniffled

and took a breath. “He was badly beaten, raped, and left for dead in a fucking pasture right

outside of Hatch, New Mexico. He was there for at least a day before anyone noticed him. They

threw that poor boy away like he was yesterday’s trash, without a stitch of clothing on.”

“So, we don’t know for sure if this is Christian, do we?”

“I hope like hell it’s not. From what I gathered, this young man is fighting to live with all

he’s got. It’s a fucking wonder he didn’t die out there. Christian or not, I’m gonna kill the fucker

who did this to that boy. He may or may not be the connection we’ve been searching for, but

either way, he’ll be avenged. No one deserves this, Lucca. No one.”

Lucca closed his eyes in silent prayer for the boy. He wanted it to be Christian, if just to

have this all over with, but he didn’t want it to be him from the sound of the condition the boy

was in. Did he call Paul and Nicholas now, or wait until there was a positive ID made? Did he

have the right to hide this if it was for their benefit? He looked out of the helicopter’s window

and saw a big red X ahead, on top of what must be the hospital. Damn, but Carl had more tricks

up his sleeve every time he saw him. Jets, helicopters, limos—he had them all on the sidelines,

just waiting on his calls. Oddly enough, Carl and his team didn’t even live in the United States.

Maybe it was time he thought of relocating for good as well. If…no, when he found Christian,

they would do just that.

“Carl, if this is my boy, I will have the pleasure of ending Dwight’s life. I will not allow

you to cheat me out of my right to see that cold-hearted sonofabitch lying dead at my feet.”

“Lucca, please calm down. We don’t know what we’re facing just yet. We could be

barking up the wrong tree here. We don’t know anything more than what the boy said to that

farmer. Maybe it’s best if you wait in the waiting room until we establish if this is Christian or

not. If it’s not, then I’ll sit with him until he’s conscious and see if he knows your boy. Then,

with any luck, he’ll lead us to him. Even if Christian isn’t there, there are others who are, and

they need help.”

Lucca’s head and heart were already disagreeing; there was no way in hell he was going

to just sit and wait patiently while Carl went off to try to identify the injured boy. If this was

Christian, then he’d be right there through the good and the bad. Period.

“I won’t. If that’s my boy in there, I want to be with him.”

Carl groaned. “I’m not arguing about this. Once we establish who this is, we’ll go from

there. Until then, Lucca, you will not tell me what you are going to do, is that clear?”

“Now you look here, Carl. At one time, you had complete say-so over me, but that time

has passed. If that is my boy, I will be right there with him, and if it isn’t my boy, then I’ll be

right there with him, hoping like hell he may know Christian. Either way, you’re not keeping me

out of his room unless you have a police escort waiting to drag my ass out of there. Is that

clear?”

Carl bit the inside of his cheek and grinned. “Sometimes I miss that, you know? Your

stubborn streak.” His face grew serious as he patted Lucca’s knee. “If it’s him, will you be okay

to handle it without creating a scene? We’re headed to ICU, and I had to pull lots of strings to

gain access to the boy. You’ll need to keep your mouth shut and follow my lead; we’re FBI

agents.”

Lucca nodded in all seriousness. “I’m whoever you want me to be. Just don’t shut me

out.”

*****

Less than thirty minutes later, they found themselves being led down a brightly lit

hallway and into the Intensive Care Unit. The only sounds came from the nurse’s shoes and the

beeps and hums of various monitors and life support equipment. Lucca’s stomach was flipping,

his heart drumming away in hope that this was his boy, and he was alive. Even if he was beaten

up, he was alive.

“We won’t be long,” Carl said to the nurse standing at the door to the room they had the

boy in. “Please have his doctor set aside a few minutes to speak with us.”

The nurse nodded and walked away, leaving them alone at the doorway to the young

man’s room. Carl opened the glass door and motioned for Lucca to stand at the entrance.

“I’m going to take a look,” Carl whispered, looking at the boy on the bed.

“Not without me,” Lucca hissed back. He stepped behind Carl and peeked over his

shoulder and gasped. “Carl, what the fuck did those monsters do to him? Dear God!” All at once,

he felt an overwhelming sense of conflicting emotions: anger, sadness, despair, and relief. He

started panting and had no way to control it. His eyes burned and his throat constricted until he

couldn’t hold it in. “Carl,” he said in a low, shaky voice.

Carl’s alarmed face made Lucca lose what little hold he had. The next thing he knew,

Carl was leading him out of the room and down the hallway they had just traveled moments

before. Lucca allowed himself to be led to a chair in a waiting room where he collapsed in a

boneless heap.

“Lucca, stay here. Tony and Adrian are fifteen minutes away, so you stay here and wait

for them. Do you understand me?”

Lucca blinked the tears away and slowly nodded in acknowledgment. “Yes, Sir.”

Carl laid his hand on Lucca’s shoulder and lightly squeezed. “Good. Now, I’m going

back in there. Okay?”

Lucca nodded again and looked down at the floor. He sniffled a couple times and looked

back up at Carl and said, “That poor boy in there, he’s hurt, so very hurt. Who could be so

cruel?”

“Lucca,” Carl said sternly, “now is not the time. I need to get back in there and be with

him when he opens his eyes. Please, wait for Tony right here, okay?”

“Take care of him. That young man needs someone to let him know he’s not alone. What

about his family?”

“We don’t even know his name yet.”

Lucca nodded and took a deep steady breath. “I’ll be here.”

*****

He strode directly back to the boy’s room and sighed as he sat down beside the bed. He

had to put himself in his headspace to do this so it didn’t affect him and would keep him from

saying the wrong thing when the young man woke up. Carl studied the bruised and battered face

that belonged to this stranger and wanted nothing more than to gather him in his arms and hold

him until he was well. Someone had hurt his kid and they’d hurt him badly. According to the

files, the boy’s face had been laid open by a whip or something resembling it. The doctors had to

put fifty stitches in the young man’s face to stop the bleeding. They also mentioned he’d need

plastic surgery at a later time.

He’d spent three hours in surgery to repair his damaged lung, spleen, and broken arm.

There wasn’t an area on his body left untouched by whoever had intended to kill him; they’d

wanted him dead in the worst possible way. Something incredibly bad had happened to this

young man and Carl’s blood boiled.

“You’re an amazing young man. You hold on and I’ll be right here with you every step of

the way.” He studied the bruised face and tried to imagine what he looked like under the

bandages. He wondered if the boy’s whole face lit up when he smiled and if he had dimples.

“What is it about you? Who are you?” Whatever it was, Carl had to know, and he was

prepared to wait for however long it took.

*****

Ever so lightly Lucca’s finger circled Christian’s entrance, playing with his puckered

hole, teasing it but not giving Christian what he wanted. Lucca looked at him with those dark,

intense eyes, mesmerizing him and promising him the world, giving him all he’d ever wanted—

love, protection, and passion. Lucca leaned over and kissed Christian softly before licking his

lips and pushing his tongue into his waiting mouth. Lucca’s kiss grew deeper and more

demanding, fighting for control, and Christian gladly gave it. He whimpered, begging Lucca for

more; just feeling that powerful tongue taking possession, made him weak with desire. He

moaned when Lucca pulled away.

Seconds later, he felt the coolness of the lube being applied to his hungry hole. He

spread his legs wider apart, begging without saying a word. Lucca pushed against Christian’s

exposed opening and gently pushed his finger past the first ring of muscle and into the tight

channel, stopping only when Christian groaned and begged for more.

“Shh,” Lucca said. “They’ll hear us.”

It took him a moment to gather his wits and comprehend what Lucca had said. Who

would hear them? They were alone in their room, on their king sized bed.

“If they hear you, they’ll hurt him,” Lucca whispered in his ear.

“Who? Lucca, who will hear us? Ms. Maye is off today, and besides, she has her Zune.

Please, make love to me. I need to feel you inside me. I need to feel you make love to me,” he

cried.

“They’ll kill him; you must be quiet,” Lucca said, his voice now sounding light years

away. Lucca’s voice began to fade just as his image did, just as he always did.

Christian cried out and his eyes flew open. “Lucca! Come back!”

“Shh! Do you want them to come in here and kill Seb this time? You have to shut up.

Please?”

Christian was panting and sweating. The dreams seemed so real, real enough that his

body responded, always leaving him aching and needing. His dick was hard; precum dripped on

his thigh, his balls ached, and he was shaking. He looked over at Joshua, then at Sebastian, and

he shook his head.

“Death has got to be better than this hell. I’m sorry,” he snapped.

In the dream, he’d felt Lucca’s hands all over him, touching him, loving him. God, how

he missed the man. Then the memories of all that had happened since he’d last seen him crept

into his thoughts, making him sick to his stomach. Chances were slim that he’d ever again see

the man he loved more than life itself, and even if he did, even if he got lucky enough to escape

the hell he now lived in, facing him was another matter entirely.

How could he face Lucca again after this? He was dirt; he was nothing more than scum

now. He’d been used and abused like a cheap toy, treated like a subhuman, like some mindless

animal not fit to exist. He shuddered at the memory of the last session he’d had with Dwight and

his boys. His stomach fluttered in disgust, and he swallowed deeply a few times to keep himself

from throwing up. The acid in his throat burned, and his eyes welled up with hot tears.

Things always grew hazy every time he ate and drank. Dwight had to be giving him

drugs. He was sure of it. No one but Lucca had ever been able to get him to do some of the

things he so freely did now with Dwight. While it wasn’t a secret that he enjoyed sex and the

kinky play that sometimes went with it, he’d never thought to enjoy it with anyone besides

Lucca. Now he saw himself being tied down, his legs secured as far apart as they would go, tied

to a spreader bar; sometimes he was face down, sometimes he was on his back, sometimes he

was upright and tied to a St. Andrew’s Cross. And the really sick part, the part that made him

wish he could just die, was when he begged them to bring the pain. How could this be considered

rape if he begged them to do those things to him? He was as sick and perverted as they were. He

had become exactly what Dwight said he’d be so long ago. God, to think he got off on it each

and every fucking time was enough to kill him.

How would he ever face Lucca again after this sordid existence? Lucca would hate him;

he’d be sickened with the knowledge that his boyfriend was nothing more than a masochistic

whore, hooked on drugs.

Christian glanced at the door, longing for it to open. He was getting shaky, and the only

cure for that came in the form of food and fluids. Pushing aside all thoughts of Lucca and guilt,

he allowed his need for whatever it was Dwight was giving him to take him over. It beat being

forced to witness the twisted shit going on around him every day.

Joshua was distraught, beside himself with anger and fear for Sebastian, who still hadn’t

said a word since those monsters had killed that boy, Brent. Since no one wanted to see those

pony things take the boy and hang him up to be whipped anymore, they all remained quiet as

mice. They did exactly what they were told to do, no matter how much they wanted to fight

against it. None of them wanted to be the reason another boy was killed.

Christian sighed when the door opened. It was time for him to eat.

Chapter Thirteen

“Oh, Jesus, please no more! Just end it already!”

Carl, who was sound asleep in the chair next to the boy’s bed, jumped up, never letting

go of the young man’s hand and leaned down to catch what he was saying in his sleep.

“It’s okay. I’m here. You’re okay. Shh,” he said, tucking the boy’s sweaty hair behind his

ear.

Brent turned his head away from the contact, whimpering and crying out in what Carl

could only describe as fear.

“I won’t hurt you,” Carl said softly. “I’ll never let anyone hurt you again.”

“Please, help me.”

Carl winced at the pain in the young man’s voice. He had the strongest urge to grab him

and hold him close. He wanted to protect him and take care of him. What the hell are you doing

to me? I don’t even know you.

“They need help.”

Carl fought against the impulse to call for the nurse right away. He wanted to question

the young man and find out who had done this to him, and why. Even if he knew nothing about

Christian’s whereabouts, he’d find the fuckers who did this, and he’d take them out in the most

painful way he could.

“Who needs help? Who did this to you?” He’d watched this boy for the past twenty four

hours, feeling so damn helpless, and now, finally, he heard his voice. “Can you open your eyes?”

Carl waited several seconds, gently squeezing the younger man’s hand. “Please try.”

He watched as the boy slowly opened his eyes, and he let go of the breath he hadn’t

realized he had been holding. “Hey there, I’m Carl.”

Brent winced and tried to move away, but his bruised and battered body left him

immobile.

“What’s your name?”

“Are you my new Master?” Brent asked in a shaky voice, his uninjured eye wide open

and staring at Carl in confusion and fear. “What happened to me?”

Carl cocked his head to the side and allowed the boy to pull his shaky hand away. “I was

hoping you’d tell me what happened. You were found by a farmer in a field in Hatch, New

Mexico. Do you remember how you got there?”

Brent swallowed hard and shook his head, then winced as though it hurt to move it. “Did

you buy me?”

Shock ran through Carl’s body, anger followed, then sadness for what this kid must have

gone through. “No, I didn’t buy you. It’s illegal to buy people. Can you tell me who did this to

you?”

“Where am I?”

“You were airlifted to a hospital in Albuquerque, and you’ve been here three days. I want

to help you, but I need to know who did this to you.”

“My Masters,” Brent answered, “those bastards!” He cried out from the obvious pain he

was in and tried to turn away, attempting to hide himself.

Several minutes passed and all Carl could do was watch and try to comfort the injured

young man. He swore under his breath at the injustice of it all.

“You have to get me outta here so I can help them,” Brent said weakly.

“Help who?” He studied the boy’s face trying to see past the bandages, bruises, and cuts.

“I want to help you help them. Let me.”

Carl heard the door open and exhaled at the lost opportunity. He didn’t want to leave; he

wanted to stay with Brent and make sure he was okay. He wanted to protect the kid and make

him be okay. He just didn’t fully understand why.

“Sir, I’m sorry but I’m going to have to ask you to step out for a while. We need to

examine him.”

Carl groaned, studying the boy’s face; the eye he looked into, the one that wasn’t covered

by the bandage, seemed ancient, filled with a pain no man should ever know. “You’ll be okay.

I’m just going to step right outside the door. If you need me, just let them know, okay? I’m not

leaving you.”

Brent slowly nodded and watched Carl walk out the door, fully expecting never to see the

man again.

*****

“Lucca, I think that boy in there may just lead us to Christian. If Dwight was into the

scene back then, I’m thinking the chances are good that he’s probably still active.”

Lucca finished his cup of coffee and turned to look out the window. “It fits.”

He turned to face Carl, and for the first time in almost three weeks, he felt hope swell in

his heart. He knew it was a slim chance the injured young man knew Christian, but it was a

chance nonetheless.

“Tony and Adrian just left to get some sleep. They’re staying at the hotel around the

block. Carl, when we find the bastards who did this to us, I’m going to fucking kill them with my

bare hands. I will have revenge.”

Carl nodded and laid his hand on Lucca’s tight shoulder. “It is yours to have. Let’s pray

to God that we have the missing piece of the puzzle in that room.”

“I believe in my heart, he’s the answer. Tony said Ryan has been role playing on some

websites that advertise for submissive boys who are looking for Masters. Apparently, these

underground joints offer to train the boys to be the perfect subs, then make promises to find them

the ideal Master. Because of what we found in Christian’s journals about Dwight, along with the

fact that he was identified through Nicholas…”

“Jesus Christ! That’s it. Ryan has connected Dwight to the underground BDSM training

camps. From what we’ve gathered, those so called training camps are nothing more than slavery

rings. The people who run them are kidnapping young men and boys off the streets, from their

homes, anywhere they can be found. They supposedly then train these boys to serve, but that’s

entirely misleading. The more appropriate term to use would be break; they break the boys, using

violently abusive methods.

“The FBI has been investigating this for a couple of years but hasn’t been able to get past

an initial interview with the minor players. It’s almost as if they can smell the agents from the

start. No matter who they send in, the websites are suddenly changed; email addresses and phone

numbers are changed too. It’s like they have inside informants. We were called in about a year

ago but had our hands full with some personal issues of our own.”

Lucca knew exactly what Carl was referring to. It still brought tears to his eyes when he

thought about the hell Tony and Ryan had gone through. A group of four gay bashers had almost

killed Ryan and destroyed his and Tony’s future. It had taken some time to bring Ryan back from

the dark world he’d fallen into, as well as loads of patience from all of the members of the small

group of outlaws who resided overseas. Outlaws only because they were responsible for the

death of a very powerful government official who’d tried to kill the kid brother of Carl’s best

friend. That wasn’t to say certain officials didn’t approve of what Carl and his team of guys were

doing. In fact, they were the ones the government called for help when the more difficult cases

couldn’t be solved.

“Yeah, well Ryan managed to get an appointment with one of them for tomorrow night.

He’s supposed to meet someone at a diner in Truth or Consequences at six-thirty.”

Carl sighed and shook his head. “And Tony?”

“Pissed as all get out. Ryan was met at the airport by a couple of your men, and he’s on

his way to the hotel where Tony’s waiting on him. From what Tony said, Ryan went behind his

and everyone’s back and set up the meeting. The only reason Tony even found out about it was

because Tanner called him after Liz told Tanner that Ryan had arranged it. It was all a little

confusing, to be honest. Who is Liz, by the way?”

Carl ran his fingers through his hair and took a deep breath. He was pretty sure Torro, the

oldest of the O’Brien brothers, was going to just kill them all when they arrived in Italy after this

job.

“Liz is Ryan’s sister in law.” Carl snorted and said, “That boy is gonna get his ass beat. I

bet Tony’s as mad as a hornet.”

“He looked none too happy, that’s for sure, but I’ll tell ya, if the person he planned on

meeting knows where Dwight may be hiding…”

“No,” Carl responded with a hint of anger. “We lost an agent about a year ago in this

same set up. His name was Joshua Sullivan, and he was one of the kindest, smartest men we had

working with us. At the FBI’s insistence, we’d planted him in a situation similar to this one,

investigating the growing number of boys who’d been coming up missing across the country. His

equipment failed, and he disappeared within minutes of the arranged meeting. One minute he

was in the car, the next he was gone. We’re playing with fire here, and we have to be smarter

than the last time. I have no doubt that if Ryan had gone through with his plan on his own, he’d

have been the next victim.”

“How are we so sure this is Dwight? We don’t have definite proof that he’s even into

this. What if we’re barking up the wrong tree here, and Christian isn’t even in one of those

training places?”

“Even if he isn’t, it still needs to be shut down. The young man in that hospital room

almost died, and I’m one hundred percent sure he was kidnapped and was being trained as a sex

slave. For God’s sake, he asked if I’d bought him. He’s angry, Lucca. That boy was being trained

to do something he didn’t want, and he’s begging me to help the others, so even if Christian isn’t

among this group, there are other boys who are, and they need help. We’ll find your boy, I

promise you. We have several other teams in various places looking and asking questions.”

“I just wish we had something more to go on. I need something to give to his parents.”

Carl understood all too well. Giving false hope wasn’t his style, and to believe they’d

find Christian alive was getting harder and harder. Chances are the boy was already dead. He

hated to think so negatively, especially where Lucca was concerned, but reality was reality.

Lying made things okay for the moment, but ultimately that would be worse for all involved. He

had made the decision to tell Lucca that if they came up empty handed this go round, then it was

time for him to go home, pray for Christian, and get back to some sort of life. Enough with the

false hope. Carl had seen the world for what it was; he knew the evil that dwelled within it, and

he wasn’t doing Lucca any favors by pretending otherwise. He’d talk to Lucca after speaking

with the boy.

*****

“How is he?”

The doctor took a small sip of his coffee, then placed the mug on the desk. “He’s lucky to

be alive. We were able to take the tube out of his chest earlier, and I’m happy to report his lungs

are clear and functioning. He’s in pain but he’ll recover in time. He’s very irritated, very

distraught, and that will hinder his recovery. He remembers everything that happened to him, but

he refuses to talk about it or name the assailants. His face will heal over time, though there will

be a scar. If the young man is interested in speaking to a plastic surgeon, I can certainly set that

up.”

“Whatever he wants, no expenses spared, Doctor; I’m paying the bill. If he wants it done,

you arrange to have it done. Right now, my main concern is finding the people who did this to

him. Has the young man mentioned any family members he wants contacted?”

“Carl, he won’t even tell us his own name, never mind any family members’. My guess is

that he’s alone in this world. When we asked, he shook his head and refused to say another word.

His disposition leaves a lot to be desired. The one thing he kept repeating was that his friends

needed help, but he doesn’t know where they are. I had to give him a sedative to calm him down

about an hour ago. He’ll probably sleep through the night, and that’s exactly what he needs.”

“So, the chances of him waking tonight are…?”

“Slim to none. I’m sorry. I know you wanted to talk to him, but he was so upset that we

were afraid he’d hurt himself, and his health and safety must come first.”

As much as Carl wanted to be angry, he couldn’t be. The doctor was right; the boy’s

recovery came first. He just hoped it wouldn’t be too late for the others.

“Do you mind if I sit with him? I don’t like that he’s alone, and we don’t know for sure

yet who did this. I’m sure the media has had a heyday with it, and if his attackers saw the

coverage, they may try to finish what they started.”

“Of course. I’ll have a cot brought in for you.”

“Do you have any idea when he’ll be released?”

“He’ll be here at least a couple of weeks. We have to watch for infection. The stitches on

his face need medical attention that he probably wouldn’t give them on his own, and since his

lungs collapsed, there’s a chance that pneumonia could set in. All around, he’s better off here,

where he’ll be looked after.”

“I’ll take full responsibility for him, doctor.”

The doctor looked at Carl over his wire-rimmed eyeglasses with a look that told him,

good luck.

Carl grinned. “I’ve faced worse odds.”

*****

Carl walked quickly back to the boy, trying to keep a brave face and a solidly

professional one, at that. His whole life consisted of hiding what he really felt on the inside; his

life frequently depended on it, so he was an expert at it, but something was happening inside of

him that hadn’t happened in years. He needed to explore whatever it was he was feeling. Though

he’d only seen some of the young man’s face, as most of the left side was bandaged, he felt a

spark ignite in his heart, and that spark fueled his anger and compassion to levels he hadn’t

experienced since his time with Lucca.

“You’re awake. How are you feeling?” Carl smiled out of relief and something he hadn’t

felt in a long time—pleasure. He looked into the younger man’s eye and still found himself

wanting to take him in his arms and protect him from the world, from himself, and show the

younger man that life didn’t have to hurt.

“Like hell, if you must know. When are they letting me go?”

Carl pulled the chair closer to the side of the bed and sat down. “It’ll be a few days yet.

Do you want me to call anyone for you? Family? I’m sure someone is worried about you.”

The young man snickered and turned his head away. “What do you want? Why the hell

should you care?”

“I’m here to help you. That is, if you’ll let me. So, you know my name, but I never got

yours.”

“Help me?” He looked back at Carl and studied his face a few minutes, then lowered his

eyes and turned away. “It’s Brent, and there’s no one. It’s only ever been me.”

Carl took a silent, deep breath, hurting along with him. “Where are you from?”

“It matters, why? I’m from nowhere and everywhere. Why do you give a fuck? What in

the hell are you really doing here?”

“How old are you?”

“Why does that matter? How old are you?”

“I asked first,” Carl responded with a grin.

Brent licked his dry lips and fought back a small smile. “I’m twenty-three.”

“I’m thirty-two, and I’m here because I believe you need me, and I know I need you.”

“Ha! You need me? Need me how? On my knees or my back? Would you prefer my

mouth or my ass? Those are the only reasons anyone ever needs me.”

Carl ignored the hot sarcasm in Brent’s voice and stood up. “Not anymore. That part of

your life is over.”

Brent looked up at him, confusion written all over his face. “It’s the only life I know. I’ve

never known anything else. I don’t want anything else. I just wanna get outta here and

disappear.”

“What about the friends you were speaking about? They need help. I know I can help

them, but I need your help to do that.”

“What is it with you? Why do you fucking care? My friends are all dead by now anyway.

I just want out of here. Why didn’t I die? ”

Carl walked away from the angry young man and over to the window. He looked up at

the clear, blue sky and briefly wondered if Tony had to tie Ryan up to keep him from meeting

those people at the diner.

“I have a very close friend who is here, looking for his boyfriend. The young man was

kidnapped a few weeks ago from Tucson, Arizona. Whoever took him, shot his father in the head

and left him to die in an alley, very much the same way you were found, alone and badly hurt.”

Carl turned back to look at Brent with tears in his eyes. “The boy’s parents, his fathers, are

beside themselves with worry. I have several teams of associates looking for this boy; we’re

leaving no stone unturned. I’m here to help my friend, yes, but it seems I’ve found another

reason to stay.”

Brent frowned. “Don’t waste your time. You have no idea what I’m about. Do yourself a

favor and go away.”

“I can’t go away; it’s too late for that. It was too late the second I laid eyes on you,” he

mumbled low enough that he was sure Brent didn’t hear him. What the hell? He’d just met this

kid, and here he was, playing a love sick fool.

“His name is Christian St. James Davenport. He’s twenty-one. He’s…” Carl stopped

talking, his mouth half open ready to form the next words, but he froze. This boy knew

Christian! He knew him.

Brent’s swollen eye teared up. “His father…his father was killed in front of him?”

Carl almost ran to stand beside him. “Yes, I mean, no. His father was shot, yes, but he

didn’t die. You do know Christian, don’t you?”

Brent closed his eye as the tears ran down his damaged face. He nodded. “If it’s the same

guy, slave Christian is Master Dwight’s toy.” He took a shallow breath and looked at Carl. “The

last time I saw him, he’d been beaten, drugged, and raped. The last I’d heard was that he was

being sold to someone in Egypt. I don’t know how long ago that was.”

Carl sat heavily in the chair and rested his head in his hands. The pain that poor boy must

be in, sickened him to the pit of his stomach. Sold? Out of the country? Jesus Christ, they’d

never find him. “Are you certain?”

“His boyfriend’s name is Lucca. He cries out for him in his sleep. His fathers are

Nicholas and Paul. I know him, or I did. He’s not okay; none of them are. Sebastian is hurt; he’s

a sweet kid, and there’s Joshua…there were so many of us.”

“Joshua?” Could he be lucky enough to kill two birds with one stone and find both

Christian and Joshua? Carl had to be sure. “Can you describe Joshua to me?”

“He’s tall, at least six-two, but it was hard to tell for sure since we were squeezed into

small cages most of the time. Even when we were allowed out, it was hard to stand up straight.

He has black hair, longish, to his shoulders, and the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen. So…” He looked

deep into Carl’s eyes and blinked away the tears. “Can you help them? I owe them that much.”

Carl’s head spun with this newest piece of information. It was definitely their Joshua, and

Carl couldn’t wait to relay this information to his team. This tragic boy was the sunshine in his

life!

“I can and I will. Can you tell me where they are?”

“I never got to see exactly where I was; it may have been a big warehouse of some sort. I

know it had more than one level to it. They’re being kept in a lower level, like a basement or

something. They’re in cages. I just wanna help the boys escape who don’t wanna be there”

“Can you help me help them? Can you tell me what you remember about where you

were held?”

Brent kept quiet for several moments before nodding his head. “I hope. I remember a few

things about the night they tried to kill me. They thought I was dead. Fuck, I felt it too. I think I

can remember enough to help you, though.”

Carl smiled, took Brent’s hand in his, and gave it a light squeeze. “Let’s do this then. I’m

just gonna call a couple of friends, and we’ll do our best, okay?”

“Then you’ll go away and forget me.” Not a question, a foregone conclusion.

Carl’s smile faded when he heard the hint of challenge mixed with sadness in the younger

man’s voice. He saw a look of longing run across Brent’s face and it rendered him speechless for

several long moments. “I’ll never forget you, and right now I don’t have any plans to leave. Not

unless you want me to.”

“Why would you stay? I’m nothing to you. You don’t even know me. You don’t know

anything about me. You’re here for a job, that’s it. Why don’t you just do it, and leave out all the

other bullshit.”

“And why don’t you just let me decide what’s best for me. Now, let’s get to work. We

have some people who are relying on us. I have someone I’d like for you to meet if you’re up to

it.”

He nodded and slowly looked at Carl. “Why would anyone want to meet me?”

“Well, it’s Lucca, and he’s been waiting to talk to you since you were found. As soon as

my other friends arrive, you and I are going to try to help them find the people who did this to

you. If we can do that, then we can locate your friends too. So, will you meet with him?”

Carl took the boy’s hand in his much bigger one and gave him a reassuring smile that

sent the butterflies scrambling all over Brent’s body.

Brent’s hand warmed at the contact, but he bristled nonetheless. “I’ll meet with him and

do whatever I can, but then you’re free to leave once the others are found. Don’t feel like you

have to stick around for my benefit.”

Carl bit back a grin. “Do you have somewhere to go when you’re released from here?”

Brent snickered. “Yeah, loads of places.” Dark alleys, mostly, or under bridges on the

wet days, the possibilities were simply endless. This go about would be light traveling, though.

He had nothing left to his name and hadn’t since the night Master Evan had found him. The

memories of that night had stayed with him, making his skin crawl in disgust. Suddenly, he felt

his stomach begin to heave as though it were trying to purge his body of the nightmare that was

his life.

“Oh God, I’m gonna be sick!”

Carl jumped up and grabbed the garbage can, holding it for Brent as he dry heaved, his

whole body shaking. Brent felt as if his stomach was caught in a vice and was being squeezed of

its contents with every breath he took. He felt Carl’s big hand rubbing his back and talking to

him, telling him everything would be okay, telling him he’d never leave him, filling his head

with those fantasy things he’d only ever dreamed of. He had no idea how much time had passed

when his stomach finally settled down, but when it did, he was exhausted.

Carl wiped his sweaty brow and kept talking to him in a low comforting voice. Brent

didn’t register half of what was said. All he knew was that he felt at peace. He felt his eyes grow

heavier by the second, and no matter how hard he fought it, he was losing the battle and giving in

to the darkness that kept him safe. Just before he slipped away he mumbled, “Yeah, I’ll talk to

Lucca, but not right now. Just give me a little time before you bring him to see me.”

*****

Carl spotted Tony and Adrian standing in a corner, talking. He used every ounce of

control he possessed to keep himself from running to share what he’d learned. He didn’t want to

call attention to them, but he felt as though he would burst if he walked at a normal pace. He

glanced at the other people in the waiting room and cordially nodded, keeping his mouth shut

until he was close enough to them that he could speak just loudly enough for them to hear him.

“Where’s Lucca? I expected him to be here with the two of you?”

“His cell rang and he said he had to take the call. He wanted some privacy, so he stepped

out, but he should be back soon.”

“Well, listen to this, gentlemen. That young boy in there knows Joshua. He’s seen him.

Fuck, he’s spent the last several months with him.”

“Our Josh? Where?”

Carl looked at Tony and nodded. “That Dwight and his brother, Evan, kidnapped him and

have been holding him in a cage. Apparently, they’re training him, along with the other missing

boys, to become sex slaves.”

Tony growled low in his throat. “And my boy wanted to go meet those fools? I swear,

when I’m done with him, he won’t be sitting for a month. You should have heard Torro. When

we get back, I’m thinking I won’t be sitting for a year. Now, tell us where the fuck those bastards

are.”

Before Carl could answer, Adrian interrupted, “We have a team of ten ready to go. In

fact, they’re outside standing by, waiting for your instructions. I spoke with Jean, and his men

are set to go on our word.”

“Good. Tony, Jean has arranged for a team to go in before you, Lucca, and Adrian.

Should I not count on Ryan to make an appearance?”

“You'd be correct in that assumption. Let’s just say his ass is in no mood to socialize.

And I swear to God, Carl, if I find out that you knew about what he was up to...”

Carl cocked his head to the side in acknowledgment. “If he was my boy, I'd have chained

his ass up until it was time to go back home. But right now, we need him.”

“Can we do this remotely? He's not leaving that room until he's on a plane back to Italy.

Do you realize I could have lost him? Mierda santa, his brothers are gonna shoot my ass over this

shit.”

“Look, they know the risks involved in what we do.” Carl ignored the low warning growl

and patted his friend’s shoulder. “Remotely is fine. He was playing with a satellite tracking

program he can use to follow landmarks that Brent is going to provide for us. He’ll see what

Brent saw, and with any luck, that’ll lead us right to where he was being held.”

“Do you think sending Lucca with us is the best choice?”

Carl nodded. “It’s his boy we’re after. If Ryan was in the same situation, would you just

sit here and wait?”

“You know I wouldn’t. But Lucca isn’t trained. For God’s sake, he’s an architect. We’re

dealing with blood thirsty assholes who eat guys like him for a living. There has been an

ongoing, high scale investigation on these fuckers for some time now. The last thing we need is

to have to worry about some desk jockey going in and getting hurt.”

“Lucca will be fine. This is his boy we’re going for; he wants revenge against the people

who took him away. I’ll instruct him not to do anything rash, to wait for the final word from you,

but I will not tell him he can’t be there when Christian is found.”

“If he’s there. We don’t even know if that boy is there or not.”

“He’ll be there. You can count on it.”

Carl turned away, heading back toward Brent’s room, finding that he was oddly anxious

to see and speak to the boy again. He was somewhat puzzled by the response he’d had to Brent,

but he truly didn’t have time right now to explore what it all meant. That could be saved for

another time.

*****

“Okay, Brent, can you hear me?”

Brent looked nervously at Carl and down at the box on the table. “Yeah,” he answered

quietly.

“If you can, speak up and we’ll be set. Please don’t be scared, okay?”

“I ain’t scared. I don’t feel good. Can we just do this already?”

“Okay, Ryan, let’s get this ball rolling. It’s getting dark, and we need to get this done

tonight. By the way, how’s the ass feeling?”

Ryan groaned. “That’s none of your business. I can’t believe he told you about that,” he

complained, then let loose a bark of laughter.

Carl laughed along with him and turned on the laptop that sat beside the phone box.

“Okay, Ryan, I have the cameras activated. Camera one is Tony’s ride; camera two, Adrian’s,

and camera three, Lucca’s. The rest of the teams are numbered in sequence. We have four cars in

various places ready to follow behind on my go. We don’t need to raise any red flags.”

Carl looked at Brent and melted. The boy’s bright eye shone against the purplish color of

his skin as he studied the computer screen, concentrating.

“Please tell Tony to be careful,” Ryan said.

“He’ll be fine. Let’s do this,” Carl replied, looking at the computer screen. “Okay, Brent,

it’s all you. Let’s find those boys.”

Over the next hour Brent gave them enough landmarks, routes, and street names to put

them near the warehouse that had been his home for far too long.

Brent turned to Carl with a pleading look on his face. “Is that good enough? Do you think

they can find them?”

Carl patted Brent’s hand and assured him he’d done a great job.

“Okay, Ryan, you have enough to go with? Can you do this?”

“I hope so, Carl. I’ll just get busy with this and see what happens.”

“And, Ryan?”

“Yeah?”

“Excuse me?”

Ryan cleared his voice and said, “Yes, Sir?”

“That’s better. Stay out of trouble, or you’ll be dealing with me when we get home. You

got it?”

“Yes, Sir,” came the quiet reply.

Carl disconnected the call and looked at Brent while the boy studied the computer screen.

“You did great, Brent. Thank you.”

“We’re gonna watch it now? The route I was taken, right here on this computer?”

“That’s the plan. If you notice anything different, speak up and we’ll call Ryan.”

“So, you’re gonna go now?”

Carl sat on the chair beside Brent and took hold of his hand. “Only if you tell me to.”

Chapter Fourteen

“Lucca, we go in only after they’ve secured the building. This operation is being led by

our buddies in the FBI; we’re just here to rescue Christian. Putting you in harm’s way is not what

this is about.”

Lucca nodded, his eyes glued to the door the agents had blasted open moments ago. He

glanced toward either side of the white brick building, checking to be sure the men were in

position and waiting for anyone who may try to escape, just as the men were doing who’d been

sent around back. It was a dark night, but with the helicopter above them shining its bright

searchlight over the entire area, it was more like midday. He wished he could hear something

from inside the building, but between the agents, the chopper, and the radios going off, he’d be

lucky to hear himself.

“Christian baby, I’m right here. I’m here for you, boy,” he said, staring back at the

destroyed door.

“How much longer is this going to take? They’ve been in there for almost thirty

minutes.”

“They lost Dwight and Evan in all the confusion. They’re some place…”

Lucca heard no more. He ran to the open doorway, ignoring the shouts coming from

Tony, who was dead on his heels. All he knew was that he needed inside, or he was going to

explode. It had been three weeks since he’d last seen Christian, and just thinking about what his

boy was going through, drove him insane. It wasn’t fair, none of this was.

Never in his life had Christian hurt another living soul. He was what the word good

meant, but with all the bad he’d been through, what would he be like now? Would this hell

change him for the rest of his life? It terrified him to think that Christian may have already been

broken. If those low life monsters had managed to alter who his boy was, would he be capable of

bringing Christian back and making him whole again? What if Christian had discovered that this

life was one he truly needed to be whole?

That damn diary of his sure showed signs that there had been another side to his boy, one

he’d chosen not to share with anyone.

Lucca stopped running and looked around the large room he’d managed to get into

without notice. There were tables with leather straps hanging from them; there were chains,

whips, and ropes hanging from the walls. He listened for Tony and kept moving when he thought

he’d heard him calling out to him. In spite of what the others believed, he knew he was quite

capable of taking care of himself.

He ran through a set of wooden doors and stopped when he came to a set of stairs. He had

two choices, up or down. He remembered Brent had said something about a basement, so he

chose to go down. From what he could tell, there were at least four levels to this building, and if

he hadn’t been in such a rush, he would have admired the fact that from the outside, it didn’t

look to be much bigger than a grocery store stockroom.

The steel stairs led him down to the lowest level, which he guessed was located about a

hundred feet underground. No wonder it was taking the team of men so long to let them know

what was going on. This damn place was enormous! It was the perfect place to hide, right in the

middle of New Mexico, surrounded by desert.

He arrived at the double doors and peered through their windows, but it was too dark to

see inside. Carefully, he pushed at one door, then the other, but they wouldn’t budge. He tried

again, pushing against them harder but was met with the same resistance. He looked closer at the

set of doors and swore under his breath. The damn doors were locked, and the only way in was

with a keycard. Lovely.

He heard Tony calling for him and decided that since he was out of options, he’d give

himself away. He didn’t have the hardware or the body strength to get beyond the doors by

himself. Once Tony caught up to him, Lucca found himself on the receiving end of a thorough

tongue lashing about safety and what could have happened.

Lucca’s heart pounded in anticipation. “I know he’s in there, Tony. I feel him.”

“We’re not prepared for this. Our men are doing what they can, but…”

“Jesus, this is insane! We’re never gonna find him in one piece at this rate.”

“We really should go back until…”

“For fuck’s sake, he’s my boy! I’m not waiting another second, Tony.”

At that moment there was a buzzing sound, and the door opened on its own. Tony

grabbed Lucca and tried to hold him back, but it was useless. Lucca broke away and entered the

room, and just as he crossed the threshold, he stopped short, his breath caught in his throat. He

stood virtually frozen, his brain all but shut down and his heart torn in two. There in the center of

the brightly lit room, on his knees with a gag in his mouth, blindfolded and tied up, was his boy.

“Christian,” he said, barely above a whisper.

“That’s almost right, you Italian fuck; except his name is slave Christian, now,” Dwight

growled. He yanked on the chain that was attached to a leather collar around Christian’s neck

and laughed when the younger boy whimpered. “You see, he’s trying to be a good boy, but it’s

just not working. It’s about time you showed up; we’ve been waiting for you for quite a while. I

was beginning to think this worthless piece of shit would never stop crying out for you when I

fucked him into oblivion. ‘Lucca! Oh God. Lucca, please help me.’ Frankly, it was nauseating.

He’s finally learned how much love hurts, though. I’m very happy to report that he’s stopped

crying for you. I simply quit giving him what he wanted whenever he screamed your name. I had

no idea he was such a pain slut, and I do enjoy giving him a solid beating as much as he loves

getting one. Sorry to say, you fuck, that the boy is over you. Now he begs for me to treat him like

the garbage he is. It took me some time to train him, more than I thought it would, but I finally

did it. I suppose I should find it flattering that you thought it necessary to bring an army, but it’s

really rather disappointing. I truly would have enjoyed breaking you in and fucking you

senseless.”

When he’d seen Christian kneeling there, gagged and blindfolded, Lucca’s brain had shut

down as though all the synapses had quit firing at once. When Dwight had finally looked him in

the eyes with that sick, malicious grin on his face, however, it was as if someone had flicked a

switch that forced him back to reality. “Fuck you! You sick, demented fuck! What the hell did he

ever do to you that would cause you to do this to him? What the hell did we do?”

Dwight laughed and played with Christian’s long hair. “He was mine before he was

yours. You stole him from me; you robbed us of what might have been. I merely took back what

was mine to begin with. This boy is my creation, and I do not give up what is mine.”

“He’s not a piece of property, Dwight. He’s a person with feelings and needs. What you

did to him, what you’re doing to him right now, is inhumane, and you should be shot in the head

for it.” Lucca ignored Tony’s warning and took a few steps deeper into the room.

“One step closer and I’ll kill him.”

“You twisted motherfucker! Let him go. It’s over, Dwight,” Lucca growled. He felt

Tony’s powerful hand trying to hold him back, but he shoved it away. He needed his boy!

“Christian!”

Dwight laughed and yanked on the collar again, causing the younger boy to fall to his

side. Dwight kicked at him, his booted foot connecting with Christian’s stomach.

Lucca watched in horror as Dwight did it again and again. “God damn you to Hell!” he

cried out, taking steps to stop the crazy man.

“No! You stay back! This thing here can’t hear you, can’t see you, and he has no idea

you’re here. All he knows is that he was a bad boy, and he’s being punished. Now, let’s be

reasonable, huh? You turn around and leave, and he’ll never know you were here. You won’t

have hindered his training; you won’t have stalled his sale, and best of all…”

“No! Fuck you, Dwight! You’re finished here. It’s over. You’re surrounded, so why

don’t you just let him go, or so help me God, I’ll kill you!” Lucca growled at Tony when he felt

the bigger man nudge him. He knew Tony wanted something, but he didn’t give a flying pig’s

ass what it was. “Give it up, you psychotic sonofabitch. You’re done. Now, I want you to drop

that fucking leash, and I want you to step away from him.”

“Lucca, maybe you should take a look around, huh?” Tony whispered. “If our team

doesn’t show up, we’re royally fucked.”

Lucca took a quick glance at Tony and reluctantly allowed his eyes to follow where Tony

was staring. “Oh, Jesus Christ, you can say that again. Where are your men?”

“This is why we were waiting outside, dammit; Dwight knew we were here. The men are

looking for another way in to save your boy there. Do you see those vents up there? Yeah, we

have our guys there, but because of the syringe that crazy bastard is holding to your boy’s neck

and the guns trained on the boys in those cages, they ran out of options. Evan’s been captured,

though.”

Lucca swore under his breath and mentally kicked himself for not heeding Tony and

Carl’s advice. By being hasty and careless, he’d just put his boy in more danger. He hadn’t even

noticed the fucking syringe, never mind the guys in the cages with guns aimed at their heads.

“One of the guys in one of those cages is an agent and a friend, and I’m telling you right

now, if he dies because of your rash behavior, I’m gonna kick your ass.”

Lucca looked back at Dwight, who was smiling like a kid at Christmas. All he could

think of was wrapping his hands around that prick’s neck until it snapped. “Dwight, let him go.

Let them all go and we’ll call it good. None of this is going to go away.”

“Oh, I don’t plan on letting it go away. Ever hear of Jim Jones?”

“Don’t do this. Don’t destroy their lives. Just drop that leash and go away. I don’t care

where you go or what you do, but don’t do this,” Lucca said gently. He now knew just how crazy

Dwight was.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, so you both listen to me and listen closely. The two of you

will drop to your knees, and you will crawl to me. My boys will restrain you, and you will not

fight them. If you do, I’ll slowly inject this,” he said, showing them the syringe, “into my slave’s

neck, cc by cc, until he collapses and dies.” He laughed as the two men did as he demanded.

“Now, crawl to me and present. I’m sure you both know how to do that.” He looked to his left at

the four men standing at attention. “Boys, you know what to do.”

As they slowly made their way toward Dwight, Tony hissed in Lucca’s ear, “If my plan

doesn’t work, I’m gonna kick your Italian ass all over the place. Carl’s gonna just shit. Because

of your stupidity, he’s gonna have my ass in a sling when we get back home. Now, when I say

go, I want you to roll yourself into a ball and pray while my men do what they’re good at. No

more of this talking shit. As soon as the fireworks die down, find your boy and get the fuck outta

here. Let’s just hope the other boys make it out alive.”

They crawled as instructed, Lucca’s ears straining to hear Tony’s word. He kept his eyes

on Dwight’s still form, seething with hatred. If hate had a taste, Lucca was certain it was

something like the bitter flavor on his tongue. It was so bad, he wanted to vomit.

“Very good, look how nicely the two of you crawl. I see you’ve both had practice.”

“Oh, hell no,” Tony whispered. “That asshole is going down hard.”

They were just a stride or two from the crazy bastard when he muttered, “Now.”

Lucca rolled to his side and the chaos began. The scene played out in slow motion in

Lucca’s mind. Gunfire erupted all at once; yells, screams, and cries followed. All Lucca could do

was pray that the bullets missed his boy and the others. His wild eyes locked onto where Dwight

held Christian in the middle of the room, acting as though nothing out of order was going on

around him. That smug sonofabitch! No, he’d be damned if he was going to just lay there and do

nothing.

Blocking all consideration of fear, sanity, and his own safety, Lucca rose to his feet,

determined to get to his boy. At the exact moment Dwight saw Lucca stand, he had Christian

upright, and the evil bastard shoved the syringe into his neck. All Lucca could do was watch in

helpless horror as Christian fell to his knees, gasping behind the gag.

"Damn you...no! Christian! No, no, no-ooo!" Lucca's mind was in turmoil. Slowly, the

outer margins of his vision began to fade away. It was as though the evil in this place was taking

form, gathering its darkness from the four corners of the room and condensing itself until all

Lucca could see was a pinpoint of light shining on his baby’s lifeless body. This couldn't be

happening. Not here and not now. To go through everything they had, only to have it all end like

this, was the definition of absolute injustice. His soul cried out in agony, the sound coming from

some deep place within himself, a place that shouldn’t exist outside of the depths of Hell.

“Christian! Oh, baby, please no!” he yelled, charging the crazed man who stood over

Christian’s body, staring with vacant eyes and a mirthless smile on his lips. .

“You fucker! I’ll fucking send you to Hell for all eternity, you filthy sonofabitch!” They

fell to the concrete floor with a thud, and Lucca lost his grip on whatever small bit of sanity he’d

held onto. “You made a fatal mistake, Dwight; Christian is mine, not yours. No one takes what’s

mine! Not while I’m alive!” He twisted his fingers in Dwight’s hair and began slamming his

head into the floor. Three weeks of anger, fear, loathing, and now anguish, unspeakable and

infinite anguish, erupted from his fists, taking their revenge on Dwight’s face. He pummeled the

man, the crunch of bone and cartilage barely registering in Lucca’s frenzied mind. The blood

gushing from what was once Dwight’s nose did nothing to ease Lucca’s agony. He wrapped his

bloodied hands around the neck of the man who’d stolen his life from him and squeezed for all

he was worth.

“Lucca, he’s gone. That’s enough! Lucca, that’s enough.”

“He killed my baby!” Lucca’s mind refused to process anything else. “He took my boy

from me! Oh God, please give him back!” He hit Dwight’s limp body over and over until he was

swinging at dead air. When he took a moment to realize what was happening, he saw his feet

were off the ground, and there were arms wrapped around his chest, holding him away from the

bastard. He yelled to be let go until he was hoarse.

“It’s over, Lucca. It’s over,” Tony said, continuing to repeat the words in Lucca’s ear

until he gave up his fight for freedom.

The tears poured from his eyes and ran down his face. His throat hurt; his stomach

churned, and his heart stopped beating in any sort of regular rhythm. All he could do was to stare

at the precious body lying in the middle of the room. “He’s all I had. He’s all I ever wanted. He

needs me.”

Lucca didn’t take notice of the activity going on around him. He didn’t hear the others,

nor did he see them. All he could hear was the faint echo of his boy whispering how much he

loved him the last time they’d spoken on the phone. That was the day he’d disappeared. Now

he’d never hear that sweet voice again. He’d never see those bright green eyes full of life and

mischievous ideas. He’d never hear his baby’s laughter, his cries, or his voice. He’d never again

have a chance to tell him how much he loved him or talk of their future together. Christian

brought meaning to life, and now he lay dead.

Suddenly, Lucca felt as though the air had been sucked out of the room and he was being

strangled. He didn’t panic; he welcomed it. He prayed for death. He wanted to be with his boy

for all eternity, and when the black, warm cloud enveloped him within its embrace, he smiled

and went to his baby’s voice.

*****

“Lucca? Lucca, please wake up. Oh dear, this isn’t good. Paul, isn’t there a way to get

both of them in the same room? Going back and forth is about to do me in.”

“Nicholas, they have connecting rooms. It was the best they could do. Our boy needs a

little more care than Lucca does.”

“Oh, as if! They both need more care,” Nicholas said, wiping his brow with his tissue.

“Can you at least find out what’s taking them so long with our son? They’ve been in there with

him a long time, and it’s his turn for a visit. Thank God they’re okay.”

Paul nodded and tried to keep his emotions under control. Ever since Carl had called him

earlier that night to tell him Christian had been found, his world had begun to spin three times

faster. He hadn’t the time to cry tears of relief, because once he’d called Nicholas to share the

news, he had to rush to his husband’s place to placate him and help him get ready for the trip to

New Mexico. He was angry that Nicholas still hadn’t moved back home and would only speak to

him if it had to do with Christian. Their relationship had taken a dive into the deepest, darkest

part of the ocean. Would they be able to repair it now that Christian had been rescued? He wasn’t

so sure anymore.

“I’m going to go grab some coffee. Would you like anything?”

Nicholas waved him off, shaking his head. “I couldn’t keep anything down. I’m just too

worked up to eat or drink. Did they say when Christian would come to? Have they gotten the

results of his blood tests back yet? How about Lucca? Did the doctor give you any indication of

how long he’d be sedated? We’ve been here for two hours, and they haven’t regained

consciousness yet. They were found earlier today, right?”

“Yes. Okay, I’ll be right back,” Paul answered. He chose to ignore the rest of the

questions because he didn’t have the answers anyway. While he was beyond thrilled that his son

had been found alive, he was torn by Nicholas’s absence.

“Paul?”

Paul licked his dry lips and stopped his retreat. God, he missed his husband—his voice,

his face, his laughter, his tears, and his silliness.

“Please turn around and look at me.”

Paul forced his face to relax and did as he was asked. Just looking at his handsome man

nearly caused him to break down in tears and beg him to return home. “Yes, Nicholas?”

“He’ll be okay, right? Our son?”

Paul let out a breath and nodded as he turned away. He needed to leave the room before

he made a fool of himself. He’d been hoping to hear something totally different. Yes, their son

would be okay in time. Physically anyway.

Chapter Fifteen

“Please, daddy? Please don’t make me. Make him go away; I beg you.”

Lucca’s heart sped up, his breath coming in rushes, hearing the man he loved crying and

begging his father not to allow Lucca into the room to see him.

“Oh, dear. Oh, my baby boy. Why in the world don’t you want to see Lucca? He’s been

right outside your hospital room door for three days, waiting to see you and talk to you. He’s

missed you so much. He’s the one who found you and gave you back to me. Won’t you at least

just say hi to him for me? Please? Do it for your father,” Nicholas cooed as though he were

talking to a baby.

Lucca squeezed his eyes shut against the tears threatening to fall. Three days ago,

Christian had woken up a different person. He looked like the same boy he’d fallen in love with,

but it was all surface. The voice, the thoughts, and the comments that came from the man lying

in that bed belonged to someone else, and Christian had refused see him each time he’d tried. At

one point, he’d decided to go into his room against Nicholas and Paul’s orders, only to have

Christian begin shaking, crying, and begging for them to remove him.

God, to hear those words coming from his baby’s mouth tore him in two. He was stunned

to say the least, speechless and numb. He didn’t understand what the hell was going on, and

when he’d asked Paul, he was told to give Christian time to come to terms with his ordeal.

“Daddy, when I thought you were dead, I about died too. I did die inside. Guilt ate at me

until there was nothing left. All I could think of was that I’d never see you again. Believing it

was my fault you’d been killed drove me insane, and I allowed Dwight to take control over me.

Now that I know you’re okay, please don’t force me to do something I don’t want to do. I can’t.

If you really loved me, you wouldn’t keep asking.”

“My baby boy!” Nicholas cried. “The horrors you’ve suffered. I’m so sorry I allowed us

to lose the guards that night. I’ll forever feel responsible for what’s happened. I take the full

blame. Please don’t carry that guilt in your heart any longer. I love you so much, Christian.

Please don’t do this to Lucca. He loves you so much and he’s been so worried. Please, won’t you

see him for me?”

Christian felt an unfamiliar rage boiling up inside him. It was a white-hot river of fire that

began in his head and flowed through his body, like setting a match to dynamite and waiting for

the explosion. “I won’t! Dammit, you’re not the one who suffered at Dwight’s hands! You

weren’t the one who was forced to do things, awful and humiliating things, against his will! Just

stop! I’m sick of your whining and begging, Nicholas, so just leave me the fuck alone!”

Nicholas gasped and stared at his son, the shock registering and leaving him breathless.

“Of course, baby. I’m sorry. You’re right. Okay, you don’t have to see anyone if you don’t want

to. I’ll have your daddy Paul take care of it for us, okay?”

Christian sneered and turned his back to his father. “I’m tired. I think I need to sleep for a

while. Close the door on your way out.”

Nicholas patted his son’s hand and left the room, dismissed and heartbroken. He saw

Lucca and shook his head. “I’m sorry, Lucca. He’s just not up to it. I think I’m going to have a

chat with Paul as soon as he gets here and see if we can have Christian transferred to Tucson.

This dreadful state has been the cause of so much heartbreak. Let’s just give him some time,

huh? He’s been through so much. Do you think he’ll ever tell us what he went through?”

Lucca tried to remain calm for Nicholas. It wasn’t the man’s fault his son was being

irrational. “I’m sure he will, given time. Listen, I’m going to go say hello to Carl and check in on

Brent. I’ll come back later. Maybe Christian will change his mind after he has a rest.”

“Yes, that’s a very good idea. I stopped in his room a bit ago to thank that young man.

I’m going to talk to Paul about helping the poor boy. He did save our son, after all. I think it’s the

least we can do, don’t you?”

“Well, from what I’ve learned, since he’s the one responsible for finding all of those

missing boys and helping to shut down that slave ring, he’ll be collecting a nice reward from the

FBI. I don’t think money will be a problem for that young man for a long time.”

“Good for him,” Nicholas said. “His poor face, though, it’s such a shame. How will he

ever move on with a scar like that as a constant reminder of what he went through? Perhaps we

should have him come and stay with us. I hear he has no home; the poor dear is an orphan. Yes,

perhaps that’s what we should do for him. Paul should be here shortly. He wanted to catch a nap

at the hotel and take a shower.”

Lucca hugged Nicholas and excused himself. He was having a hell of a time holding

himself together. There his boy was, lying alone on the other side of the closed door, but he was

still so far away. “Christian, baby, I miss you so much,” he said as he walked away, not caring

who heard him talking to himself.

*****

Three weeks. He’d been home from the hospital for a grand total of three weeks, and he

was a prisoner again, a captive of both his nightmares and his fathers. He stuck mostly to his

room these days, pacing the floor like some zoo animal paces its cage. He was constantly on

edge, both anxious and paranoid over what his fathers were saying about him behind his back.

This was such bullshit! Everyone watched him closely, thinking they were being careful not to

make it too obvious, but Christian could feel their eyes on him whenever he did dare to leave his

room, which wasn’t often.

It was the scream that had woken him. Christian wasn’t certain whether he’d screamed in

his nightmare, or if he’d actually screamed aloud—maybe he’d done both. The fact that his

fathers hadn’t come bursting into his room, however, led him to believe the terror that had

overwhelmed him had been expressed only in his subconscious.

The pain was excruciating. His body was broken, and blood flowed from each gash in

threads, weaving and intertwining like a roadmap directing the path of his torture. His flesh held

onto the memory of each and every wound he’d received, and it ached as though the skin was

still torn and weeping.

As he lay there huddled under the covers, he inspected the darkest corners of his room.

He’d taken to sleeping with the bathroom light on; he couldn’t bear to be in total darkness now,

ever, but the light didn’t quite extend to the furthest reaches, and it was always those shadows

that haunted him when he awoke from the hell his mind could never seem to escape.

The saddest part was that his nightmares—the dreams the average person would wake

from and give thanks that they’d only been dreams—were all too real, and he didn’t have the

luxury of denying their reality. His nightmares were living, breathing specters that came to haunt

him every goddamn time he closed his eyes.

The only time he felt truly at ease now was when he was drunk, stoned, or preferably

both. Well, that wasn’t altogether true if he was being completely honest. He always felt at ease

when he was in the middle of a mind blowing fuck session too, especially when his partner of the

moment was beating his ass with whatever happened to be handy. Then he could escape into the

mindless oblivion of the pleasure/pain he’d learned to crave. Some addictions weren’t so bad

now, were they? Christian numbed himself, not only to forget the shit Dwight and Evan had done

to him but also to forget the good times he’d had in his life. There were times when he couldn’t

decide which memories were the more difficult to cope with, so it was best to just avoid them all.

That’s why he anesthetized with whatever was handy at the moment—drugs, drink, or dick; he

wasn’t choosy.

He lay staring into the void of his existence while the memories invaded and stormed the

walls he’d tried to build to protect himself. Those walls inevitably crumbled like the brittle bones

of some long dead animal, leaving him powerless to avoid them. Powerless. Jesus, he was so

fucking sick of that feeling. He was tired of feeling helpless and being a victim, but he had no

idea how to be anything else. Not since…shit.

He chanced closing his eyes, praying that nothing would be lurking in the darkness

behind his eyelids. Against the blankness, his mind produced an image that he’d have preferred

stay buried.

They were lying under the full moon. The sky was so clear that between the light of the

moon and the pinpoints of a billion stars twinkling in the inky blackness, they could look into

each other’s eyes and see their own light shining there, rivaling the heavens themselves.

They’d just made love on a secluded stretch of beach. The heat of the sand, still warm

from the sun, seeped through the blanket they’d spread. The sound of the waves breaking on the

shore had matched the pounding rhythm of their hearts.

Christian had lain on his back, his legs wrapped around Lucca, urging the man to drive

his long, thick cock deeper, harder into his ass, silently willing him to continue the friction, the

rubbing against the spot inside his body that would have him shooting cum over his own stomach

and chest without a single touch to his cock. The sighs and moans they’d shared, the whispered

words of love and devotion that had passed between them, held no beginning and no ending.

They were infinite and absolute; they were a prayer and a promise shared between the two of

them. The warmth of the sand and the heat of Lucca’s body had enveloped Christian and made

the rest of the world disappear. They were one and they were complete.

After they’d come down from the orgasms that had sent them both beyond the universe,

they lay naked, doing nothing more than loving the life they’d begun to build together.

Christian rolled onto his side and grabbed Lucca’s hand, pulling it across the man’s

broad chest to bring it to rest over his own heart.

“Feel this Lucca. Do you feel how fast it’s beating? When you love me, there are times

when I don’t think my ribcage will be strong enough to keep my heart from beating right from my

chest. It beats only for you. I’m not sure which happened first; I’m not sure if you stole it all

those years ago, or if I gave it to you. Either way, it’s yours. Now and always, it’s yours”

It wasn’t really like Christian to make such solemn declarations, but he’d been so

overwhelmed by his love for Lucca that he needed to put it into words. He needed to try to

express just how much this man had come to mean to him.

Lucca took his hand from Christian’s chest and gently ran his fingertips along his boy’s

cheek, guiding them as soft as a whisper to trace the full bottom lip. Grabbing the back of his

neck, Lucca pulled him down and sucked that sweet lip into his mouth. He flicked his tongue out,

sending a silent plea to his lover to open and let him in. Lucca wanted to taste Christian, to feel

their tongues tangling. It would never be enough. After the deeply passionate but all too brief

kiss, Lucca pulled back and cupped his lover’s cheek, grazing his thumb along the soft skin

there. He looked into Christian’s eyes and uttered just one word, one word that meant

everything—Mine.

Christian squeezed his eyes tightly closed, trying to erase the images that played on his

eyelids. There was nothing but pain in all his memories. Those were the memories he couldn’t

afford to let loose, the ones that highlighted just how much he’d been robbed of, the ones that

highlighted just how fucked up and worthless his life was now, how fucked up and worthless he

was now.

He’d run things over in his mind at least a thousand times since he’d been rescued, and he

always ended up with more questions than answers. Why had he ever allowed Dwight into his

life? Why had he always been so determined to lose his guards, not only on that night but each

and every time he’d felt imprisoned by his own life? Why had he been so determined to keep

secrets from the man he loved with all his heart? Why hadn’t he trusted Lucca with the truth

when Dwight had started trying to contact him again? Actually, he had the answer to that one.

He didn’t tell Lucca, because he’d convinced himself there was really nothing to tell. The calls

and messages were truly no big deal; he could handle them just fine, thank you. They were

merely the ramblings of some insane, obsessed stalker, that’s all. God, if there was a gullible-

dumbass-of-the-year award, he’d win it, no contest.

As his throat tightened with the threat of tears, he fought against them, knowing that to

allow them to fall might mean they would never end. He reached across the bed to the nightstand

and turned on the lamp. Opening the drawer, he grabbed a baggie of joints he’d rolled earlier. Be

prepared; now wasn’t he just the good little Boy Scout? He pulled one out, fired it up, and leaned

back against the headboard.

He was currently in the market for a new dealer and was being a little stingier than usual

with his stash. He’d sort of fucked things up with his old dealer. No, there was no sort of about it.

He’d entirely fucked things up in one of his more manic moods.

Joe was a businessman; he understood when a guy said he was a little low on funds, and

he knew what a guy meant when he suggested they could maybe work a trade. He knew Joe

would accept the offer because each time they’d made a cash transaction, he’d mostly talked to

Christian’s crotch, licking his lips like a kid eyeballing the last Twinkie in the box. When

Christian proposed sex for drugs, Joe didn’t hesitate to take that deal.

He had shown up at the front door last week, looking stoned and stupid. Nicholas had

beaten Christian to the door, and started in with the, “Christian, blah, blah, unacceptable, blah,

blah…,” but he’d just shoved his father aside and herded Joe up to his bedroom. He was ready to

get this deal started and over with as quickly as possible. And things had been going well until

Christian had given Joe a little instruction in what he needed to get off.

Admittedly, he’d probably gone a little too far when he’d pulled out the crop and told Joe

that he liked it rough, and it was okay to make his ass bleed a little while Joe was whipping him.

But who’d have suspected a drug dealer would have such serious issues with kink?

The real deal breaker had come when Paul had barged into his bedroom. Christian was

fucking sick of having his privacy invaded, so he’d stroked his cock a few times and invited his

father to come on in and make it a threesome.

Christian had never seen anyone get dressed as quickly as Joe had, yelling at him on the

way out the door to lose his phone number, then telling Paul that he had one sick fuck for a son.

He inhaled deeply and held the smoke in his lungs, welcoming the buzz and vacant

feeling settling into his head.

Yeah, he was to blame for everything. He knew it and so did everyone else. He’d gotten

himself kidnapped; he’d nearly gotten his father killed, and he’d lost the only man he’d ever

loved, still loved, beyond words. And that right there was why he was so fucking angry all the

time. So angry. There was nothing left of him but anger and self-loathing, and it was a poison

that ate through to the core of his being.

When his fathers were in his face constantly begging him to “talk through his feelings,”

he’d go ballistic and lash out, saying and doing his worst so they’d hurt right along with him.

God, why did they have to hover over him? Couldn’t they take a hint? He just wanted to be left

alone. He just wanted to be. He didn’t want to participate in life anymore; he only wanted to

avoid it as best as he could. Why was that so damn difficult to understand and accept? And why

did they make it so fucking easy for him to hurt them? He didn’t deserve their love, and he sure

as hell didn’t want their pity.

How many times had he wished for death as he lay broken and bleeding in his cage? How

many times had he considered ending it all since he’d been rescued from that hellacious place?

Rescued? That really was debatable since he’d just traded one hell for another, and he’d

considered dying more times than he could count. So, why didn’t he do it? Why didn’t he just

pull a syringe from his drawer, create a little oblivion cocktail, and shoot up? It’d be so easy;

he’d just go to sleep and never wake up. Well, it most likely wouldn’t be all that easy, in reality,

but the end result would be the same—escape. The answer was simple; he was scared. Too

fucking scared to die, and too fucking scared to live. Where the hell did that leave a guy?

He licked his thumb and forefinger and pinched the lit end of the joint, snuffing it out. He

reached over and dropped it in the ashtray on the nightstand. Had to save some for later. There

were no answers to be found tonight, only more anger, more frustration, and more reasons to

shout a big fuck off! to the world and everyone in it.

He’d leave the lamp on now. Maybe it’d help keep the monsters away for the rest of the

night. He told himself that same thing every night; it’d become his mantra. It never worked, but

it was a nice thought just the same. As he lay there staring at the ceiling, he began to count his

heartbeats like the seconds ticking off a clock, hoping that with each beat, he’d come one step

closer to the end.

*****

“I’m sorry, Lucca. He’s not feeling well. Why don’t you just wait until we call you,

okay? I hate to see you take the time out of your busy day to rush over here, only to be turned

away.”

Lucca lowered his eyes and shook his head in disappointment. “He’s been home for over

a month, Paul. Every single day, it’s the same fucking excuse. I’m sorry. I know it’s not your

fault. I just want to see him and talk to him. No pressure, no questions. I just need to see him

with my own eyes,” he said. He looked at Paul’s tired, helpless eyes and nodded. “Okay. Will

you at least tell him that I was here, please? Tell him I just want to talk to him.”

Paul understood all too well what Lucca was feeling. The poor guy was beside himself

with pain and misery. He felt for him; he truly did. But this was about his only son, and he’d do

anything in the world for him, including chasing away the man they’d all came to love as

Christian’s future husband. Paul felt as if he were the outsider in his own home these days, being

chased away by a husband and son he no longer recognized. Since Christian had been released

from the hospital, he’d taken to hiding out in his room, refusing to see anyone except his parents

and the new “friends” who constantly came and went. Nicholas was beside himself with guilt

and sadness. He had very recently taken to spending every night in Christian’s room when it had

become apparent that their son was experiencing night terrors.

They’d increased their security detail, doubling the number of guards to watch the house

and adding four more men to tail each of them when they went out. Of course, since Christian

and Nicholas never left, it didn’t give those additional men much to do. There was so much

sadness in their home now it was like living in a mausoleum.

“I’m sorry, Lucca. I truly am. He’s just not up to visitors. Maybe in a few days.”

Lucca shook his head in disappointment. “I’m not coming back, Paul. I can’t keep doing

this to myself. Every day for thirty days is enough. If he wants to see me, he knows how to

contact me.” Lucca sighed and turned his head, trying to hide the tears in his eyes. He took a

breath and looked back to Paul. “I have to leave town for a few weeks on business. If an

emergency comes up, please call me. I’m closing the house up as well, so if he needs something

from there, please contact Ms. Maye, and she’ll have it sent over for you. She misses him.

Maybe he’ll agree to see her if I’m not around.”

Paul nodded. “He’s changed, Lucca. He’s not the young man you knew before,” he said

sadly. “I can’t talk to him without him crying or erupting in profanity laced tirades. He seems

bent on a path of self-destruction. I don’t know what to do anymore. I arranged for a therapist to

come and talk with him, but Christian refused to listen or say a word. He said that I was just

trying to get rid of him and have him committed. Of course, then Nicholas took his side and fired

the poor man. I really don’t know where to go with this. I’ve become an outsider in my own

home.”

Lucca looked out over the landscaped driveway and lit a cigarette. “I’m sorry, Paul. I

wish I had the fix for this. You know I’d do anything for him, even if he never wants me back.”

He took a deep drag off his cigarette and remained quiet for a few minutes before saying, “I

should get going. I’m leaving in the morning, and I still need to get ready for my trip. I may head

to Italy for some downtime after I sew up this deal I’m working on. I can’t be here with him so

close by and not be able to see him. Evan’s trial is coming up late next month, so I’ll be back for

that. I hope they fry the bastard.”

“That’s another problem, Lucca. Christian refuses to listen to our lawyer, won’t even talk

to him. He’s been subpoenaed to testify. If he continues to ignore it, he’ll be held in contempt

and arrested. That boy has no idea how serious this can become.”

“Paul, with all due respect, I think forcing Christian to take part in this trial is a mistake.

Can’t he be excused from testimony based on mental duress or something? If the prosecution

forces Christian to take the stand, I’m afraid it would do their case more harm than good. He

could very well give the term ‘hostile witness’ new meaning.”

“Well, without his testimony…then again, there are the other boys who were rescued.”

Lucca shook his head. “Brent isn’t any better off than Christian. Carl is still with him, but

the kid isn’t showing any signs of improvement. If anything, he’s worse. The scar on his face has

literally pushed the poor boy over the edge, and he refuses to take the bandage off. He won’t

even go near a mirror, won’t talk to anyone. From what I understand, the others are pretty much

in the same shape. They’re terrified of strangers and are socially inept. They freak out in crowds,

can’t stand loud noise; many of them eat like birds and won’t speak unless spoken to. Those two

brothers really did a number on those kids.”

“That alone should be the evidence needed to fry that bastard,” Paul said, his voice heavy

with disgust.

Lucca nodded and looked into Paul’s eyes. “Well, I’m gonna get out of here. If I stay any

longer, I can’t promise you I won’t push past you to get to that boy up there. Give him and

Nicholas my best. If you need anything, you know how to find me.”

“Take care of yourself, Lucca. I know he still loves you; he’s just scared.”

Lucca walked down the steps and paused. “Yeah, okay. Catch you later.”

*****

“Christian! What in the name of holy hell do you think you’re doing?”

Christian didn’t bother to look at Paul. He rolled his eyes instead and took another deep

hit off the joint he held in his hand, holding his breath as he passed what he was smoking to a

new friend of his.

Christian was lying face down on a lounge chair with his ass pointed skyward. His “new

friend”, currently frozen in mid-stroke, was straddling the chair and had his cock buried deeply

in Christian’s ass. At least the kid had the good sense to look mortified.

“I’m smoking a joint, having a few beers, and enjoying a good fuck; what the hell does it

look like I’m doing? And why the hell do you care?” He whistled for his pup and kissed her nose

when she obeyed his command to sit on the ground beside the chair. “You have gotten so big

little Bryn. Where did the time go?”

Paul was stunned. No, he was beyond stunned; he was fucking appalled. Jesus Christ,

Christian was no more engaged in what was happening to him than if he’d been discussing the

weather. Paul opened his mouth, ready to say something, but paused when he felt someone

standing behind him. He turned to see Nicholas looking at him with his brow arched, daring him

to open his mouth. Paul exhaled and turned away.

“Daddy,” Christian said, looking at Nicholas, “have Mario make a beer run. I think we’re

out, and I’m sure you don’t want me driving drunk, do you?”

Nicholas looked at Paul and back at their son. He took hold of Paul’s hand and practically

dragged him from the patio and into the house before saying, “That’s his new boyfriend. I have

no idea where he finds these creeps, but it’s getting worse. In a week’s time he’s brought home

six boys, each one of them more disgusting than the last. I’ve asked him if he’s practicing safe

sex, and do you know what he said to me? He said, ‘Why yes, Nicholas, I am, not that it’s any of

your business. I may not be choosy about whose junk is in my trunk, but at least I keep it clean.’

Paul, I nearly keeled over! What are we to do?”

Paul’s wide eyes and sarcastic laughter caused Nicholas to take a couple of steps back.

He brushed his hair away from his face, shaking his head. “We? Ha! Now that’s a new one.” Paul

looked over his shoulder and pointed to the yard, then said, “Ever since that boy’s come home,

it’s been all about you and him. You’ve made every excuse under the sun in his defense. You’ve

overlooked his despicable behavior, as well as all the trash he brings home. You’ve overlook the

drugs, the drinking, his piss poor attitude, his stupidity, his promiscuity, and now you’re asking,

‘what are we to do’? You helped create that monster out there, Nicholas, so you go fix it!”

Nicholas gasped and put his hands over his heart. His shoulders began to shake as he

sank into the chair beside him.

Paul watched his husband as a heavy sadness came over him, and he looked down at the

white Italian tile. “We can’t keep doing this, Nicholas. We can’t keep making excuses for his

behavior. He’s gone from a depressed, reclusive, angry young man, to a drug abusing,

belligerent, spoiled brat with no manners or respect for anyone, including himself. He sleeps

with every boy he brings home. They lay around all day and night, ordering my staff around;

he’s completely out of control and he’s getting worse. I found a vial of what I think is cocaine in

his room this morning. He actually laughed at me as I emptied it into the toilet, saying he could

get plenty more where that had come from. We both know how he’s ‘paying’ for those drugs,

Nicholas. He treats us like shit and refuses to see Lucca, never mind talk to him…”

“You assholes!”

Both Nicholas and Paul turned to face their very irate son and his friend.

“Excuse me, young man, but I will not tolerate that sort of disrespect,” Paul said in a low,

warning voice.

“How dare you both judge me!” he screamed, his wild, shoulder length hair flying into

his eyes and across his jaw. “How dare you sneak around, discussing me behind my back? You

call me a monster and say I’m out of control? Well, fuck you both! You’re nothing but a couple

of hypocrites.

“How can you stand there judging and criticizing me when your own lives are so entirely

fucked up that you can barely stand to be in the same room with one another?” Christian shoved

his friend away from him and approached his parents with disdain in his eyes. “You two are a

fucking joke! You’ve got to be the biggest bigots I’ve ever known. You judge me and my

friends, treating us as if we’re no better than garbage in an alley; then you dare to discuss me as

if I’m the one with the problem? You don’t even love one another enough to work on your own

lives, so I suggest you stay the fuck outta mine!

“Am I the only fucking reason you’re staying married? Am I the cause of you coming

back here to live, Nicholas? And you, Paul, you act like the poor, injured parent. You allow us to

walk all over you, and for what reason? Because you think that’s love? So you can play the

victim? Well, here’s a newsflash for you; you’re a spineless, gutless bastard! The both of you

make me sick, and I wish to God I was anywhere but here. Why didn’t you leave me in the real

world where I knew exactly who I was and what I needed? Damn you both!”

Paul could no more stop his hand from striking his son across the face than he could keep

the sun from setting. He glared at his only child, with tears in his eyes, and stilled him with a

look.

When he spoke, his voice was low and menacing, “You will not ever disrespect us again.

Just who in the hell do you think you are?”

Christian placed a hand on his reddened cheek and snickered. “Fuck you. Go parent

someone who wants it. Go to hell, both of you!” He spun around to face his friend but was

quickly grabbed from behind and thrown up against the wall in the kitchen, being held still by a

hand around his neck.

“We went to hell the second you were taken from us. We’re still burning there now.”

Paul turned to glare at the stunned friend. “You leave my house now, and if you ever come back

here, I’ll take a cleaver to your hairless balls!”

The boy needed no other encouragement and was gone before Paul could utter his next

words. “Nicholas, go get Mario and Lou. Move it!”

Christian tried to struggle free but was helpless against his father’s powerful hold. When

he saw the fury in Paul’s eyes, he stood, frozen.

“That’s right, little boy; you fucked up. I’ve allowed you to be spoiled all of your life, but

that’s over. I am done letting Nicholas make excuses for your shitty disposition; I am done

watching you destroy yourself, and I am done taking the back seat. You are my son and dammit,

you will act like a decent human being. Do I make myself clear?”

Christian snarled and said, “You know what you can do with that, father? You can shove

it straight up your ass. I hate you!”

Paul’s wide eyes narrowed. “Good, because right now, I don’t care for you too much

either.”

“Sir?”

“Mario, take this boy up to his room and strip it of everything. Have Lou nail his

windows shut, and I want a couple of the men stationed outside his windows and door. He is not

to leave his room until he has come to his senses.”

“Fuck you very much, daddy!”

Paul hauled off and slapped him again, this time splitting his lip. “I’m warning you,

Christian.”

Christian licked at the blood on his upper lip and smiled. “Yeah? Well, I’m very afraid.

Hit me again, daddy dearest. I love when it stings like that.” Christian’s lip curled up in a cruel

smirk. “When are you gonna get it through your head, there’s nothing left of me you can

possibly hurt? Until you get that, you’d better order a cage to lock me in. You’d better hang me

from the rafters in the basement and whip me until I pass out! That’s how my last Master kept

me in line. He also made sure to keep me naked with a plastic dick up my ass to keep me

stretched wide open for him. You gonna do that, Paul? I was trained very well, you know. I

know how to give and take at the same fucking time!”

“Christian St. James Davenport! Oh, Lord,” Nicholas screamed, “he’s so lewd anymore!”

Nicholas was on the verge of passing out, and all Paul could do was watch and hope to God he

didn’t.

“Paul, please let him go. He’s had enough. Our poor baby has suffered so terribly. It’s not

his fault. None of this is his fault. He was tortured; our baby was tortured, and here we are

making it worse.”

Christian laughed. “Yeah, tortured. And I loved every fucking minute of it. I loved taking

their cocks up my ass at the same time. I loved the pain at their hands, and when they allowed me

to come, it was pure fucking heaven. I need that back! And you took it from me!”

“Oh! Oh, I’m not well; I’m faint,” Nicholas screamed, placing his hands over his heart.

“Christian, my angel, please, please don’t say such things.”

“Why not? It’s the fucking truth! I liked it!”

Paul kept Christian pinned against the wall and looked at Nicholas; all the color had

drained from Nicholas’s face. “Mario! Lou, get this damn kid away from me before I kill him.

“Nicholas? Sweetheart?” Paul said, no longer looking at his son.

“I can do things that’d make your heads spin. Come on, daddies, let me show you I can

be a good boy; then maybe you’ll let me play with my friends again,” Christian snapped cruelly.

“Paul, what’s the matter?” Mario asked, running back into the kitchen in a panic. He

knelt down in front of Nicholas and took hold of his hands.

“Get Nicholas upstairs and help him lie down. I’ll be up in a few minutes,” Paul

answered, watching his husband put his arm around Mario’s neck. “Lou, take this boy upstairs

and lock him in his room. Have a couple of the men remove his possessions immediately. Where

is your cell phone?” Paul asked, looking back to Christian.

“Search me. I like to be felt up by hands I hate.”

Paul ignored the venomous words and began looking for the phone. He had to keep

repeating to himself that this was not his son. If he didn’t, he wasn’t sure he could control his

actions.

He motioned for Lou to take Christian in hand, and once his son was held securely in the

big man’s massive arms, he let out the breath he’d been holding. “I love you, Christian. No

matter what you feel or think, we both love you very much, but we will not allow you to destroy

us, along with yourself.”

“You don’t think I can see what’s going on? You two don’t even share a fucking room

anymore. The only time you communicate is when it’s about me. Is that what love is? Is that

what happens? If that’s the case, I can do without it. I’ll find a way out of this hellhole, and when

I do, I am not coming back here to the two of you. Ever!”

Paul closed his ears to the hurt in his son’s voice and focused on the anger instead. “Oh

yeah? With what, Christian? Your accounts are locked up tighter than Fort Knox. You no longer

have access to any funds. You plan on living on the streets?”

Christian’s eyes glittered when he smiled. “You know it, daddy. I have every intention of

making a living letting men fuck me. I hear the pay is phenomenal. I’ll dance and strip too, if I

have to. I’ll let strange men beat me and humiliate me, and I’ll love every second of it. I don’t

want or need your money!”

Paul turned away to keep his son from seeing the tears in his eyes. He willed his voice to

remain steady and hard. “Take him to his room. I love you, son.”

“I hate you!” Christian shouted as Lou picked him up and tossed him over his shoulder.

“Do you hear me? I hate you both! You did this to me!”

Paul watched in stunned silence as Lou took his son out of the kitchen. Then he sobbed;

he dropped to his knees and sobbed for them all. He’d never in his life felt such grief. “What did

they do to you, son? Oh God, what did they do?”

Chapter Sixteen

“It’s been three days, and he’s still stark raving mad,” Nicholas said to Paul while pacing

the study.

Seated at his desk while his husband wore a path in the floor, Paul looked up at Nicholas

and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger. They were both exhausted,

each of them taking turns staying awake all night, listening in on their son who had, in three

short days, thoroughly destroyed his bedroom. His mattress and box springs lay side by side on

the floor. The down bedding was ripped beyond repair; it’d take a year to gather all the feathers.

None of the twelve drawers to his dresser remained intact, the clothes strewn from one end of the

room to the other. His closet—was another matter altogether.

No one could get near Christian, and Paul was afraid his son would never be okay again.

He laid down the pen he’d been holding and stood up. Turning to look out the bay window, he

took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart.

“Is there nothing we can do? Please, Paul, I’m so worried that he’ll end up dead in there.

Maybe we should let him out. I’m sure he’s learned his lesson, and he’ll behave from now on.

He was so badly abused by those people; it’s no wonder he’s angry. He just needs love, that’s

all.”

“Stop! Just stop defending him, Nicholas!” Paul shouted. He spun around and advanced

on his startled husband. “The boy needs some serious psychiatric help, that’s what he needs.

You’ve coddled him and indulged him his entire life, and now, when he’s hurting deep inside,

we can’t reach him because you’ve protected him from everything, and he has no fucking clue

how to deal with what he feels.

“He was hurt, Nicholas, very hurt, and he refuses to let go of the pain. He needs to

exorcise those damn demons, but he doesn’t know how to do it. I’m helpless here! I’m forced to

witness my son destroying himself, and I blame myself for it!” He punched the wall, leaving a

nice sized hole, then swore before he did it again.

Nicholas yelped and stared at him with wide, unblinking eyes. “Paul, we need help.” He

slowly approached his husband and took hold of his bleeding hand. “Come on, let’s go wash this

off and have a drink.”

Paul yanked his throbbing fist away from Nicholas and went back to his desk. “I’m

having him committed; then you and I are going to call our attorneys and start divorce

proceedings. I want nothing, so it should be an easy break. I’m having my personal effects

removed tomorrow afternoon, and then I’m leaving.” Paul ran his hands through his hair, hiding

his face. “I can’t do this anymore, Nicholas. I had hoped we’d be strong enough to lean on one

another through it all, but evidently we weren’t. We aren’t. We’re living a lie here, and I can’t do

it anymore,” he said as bitter, hot tears coursed down his cheeks. He was so angry and sad at the

same time; he didn’t know what to think anymore.

He wiped his eyes and looked at the man who’d stolen his heart so many years ago.

“You’ve been my whole life. I loved you well before we had Christian, and I had hoped we

would have that love to carry us through well after he found his own life, but I know now it was

a fucking dream. It sickens me to think that the only reason you’ve stayed with me is because of

him.

“Now, I want you to leave my study, and stay out of my way until I get my belongings

out of here. Once Christian is secure in a place that can control and help him, you and I are

done.”

Nicholas’s face fell; his whole body began shaking, his head moving back and forth in

denial. He opened his mouth a few times, looking like a fish out of water, but no sound came.

Paul looked down at the top of his desk, unable to comfort him. He willed Nicholas to leave the

room because he couldn’t, he wouldn’t, witness the scene he knew his husband would create.

“Please leave, Nicholas. There’s nothing more to say.”

“No!” Nicholas screamed, his face red, his eyes glaring with distress and anger. “You

will not dictate to me what will happen, damn you!” He walked to Paul, holding his gaze, and

leaned over the top of the desk. “We married one another because we love each other. We

promised to remain married till death parts us. Good or bad! God knows, we’re going through

the bad right now, beyond bad; the past couple of months have been abominable. I know I

haven’t handled this as well as I could have, Paul, but please don’t give up on me, on us. Yes,

Christian is our son, and I just want to fix this and make it go away, but you are my husband.

You are the one I vowed to love for better or for worse. I’ve given you my whole self. I’ve held

nothing back from you, not once in all these years. All through high school and college and

every day after that, I’ve lived for you. God, I’m not too proud to beg you to forgive me for

everything I’ve said and done. Someone tried to take me from you. Our son was taken from us,

not once but twice. I don’t know what to do or how to fix this, and now you’re standing there

telling me we’re done? What do you expect from me?”

“I expected you to remain by my side instead of pushing me away, that’s what I expected.

We created that boy as a couple. It’s our responsibility to see him through this, but without the

foundation of our relationship intact, I can’t cope. I can’t see you every day, loving you as I do

and know your heart isn’t in it. I look into your eyes and see nothing of us. It’s not all your pain,

Nicholas. It’s our pain!” He took a quick, deep breath and looked down at his bleeding knuckles.

“Honestly, I don’t think I expect anything from you anymore. You should go; I’m done arguing

with you. If you need anything, you know how to contact me. I’ll leave the accounts as they are.

Bleed them dry or whatever. I don’t fucking care anymore.”

“Please, Paul. Please don’t do this,” Nicholas cried. He raced to the opposite side of the

desk and dropped to his knees at Paul’s feet. He looked up at him with teary, pleading eyes.

“Please take it all back. Please tell me you didn’t mean it. I love you, Paul. Don’t leave me; don’t

throw us away. You’re the only person who has loved me unconditionally and accepted me with

all of my craziness and idiosyncrasies. I knew you were my soul mate when I saw you in grade

school, even when you wouldn’t give me the time of day. I knew you were my whole future,

even in our sophomore year of high school before I tricked you into asking me out on our first

date. When you asked me to commit to you later that year, I knew we’d be together forever.

Having Christian was a bonus, but if we would have never had a child, I’d still love you with all

I am. I was so afraid I’d fail as a father that I gave it my all and then some. Yes, I did go easy on

Christian in lieu of being a disciplinarian because I was afraid you’d get upset with me for not

being a proper parent to your son. I was afraid you would leave me, because…”

Paul’s heart beat in time with his husband’s sobs. He absently laid his hand on top of

Nicholas’s head and gently sifted his fingers through the silky waves. Hearing the man pour his

heart out this way, seeing him raw and exposed this way, forced Paul to open his stubborn and

angry heart to really hear what Nicholas was saying. Above and beyond their love for Christian,

they did indeed love one another as individuals.

“Please, Paul, please don’t leave me. I won’t do life without you in it; you’re everything

to me. I’d throw all of our things away, all of the material possessions…well, maybe except for

my rings because they are so very pretty, but nothing means anything to me without you.”

Paul tried not to smile but he couldn’t help it. His overly dramatic husband always did

have a way of expressing his feelings. “Shh, Nicholas, shh.”

“Dear God, Paul, how did I do this? When I got out of the hospital and left to spend time

on my own, I just knew I couldn’t be truly happy unless you were there with me. But my

stubborn, girlish pride wouldn’t allow me to admit my feelings because I hated to admit how

right you always are. I just wanted to be right for once, and I messed that up too. I don’t want to

be single, but I don’t want to keep hurting you either. If you feel we aren’t any good for each

other anymore, I’ll just have to learn to live with that, but please don’t feel as though you have to

leave the house. You built this place from the ground up so long ago, and it’s yours. I’ll leave so

you don’t have to.” He looked up into Paul’s eyes and blinked as tears streamed down his face.

“I’d do anything for you and your son…”

“Our son. Dammit, Nicholas, come ’ere,” he said, pulling his husband off his knees and

onto his lap. He wrapped his arms around Nicholas’s shaking body and leaned back, his chin

resting on top of his lover’s head. He kissed those silky strands and rubbed Nicholas’s arms as if

to ward off a chill. “He’ll always be our son. He needs us both, just as I need you, baby.”

Nicholas hiccupped and snuggled in closer, resting his head in the crook of Paul’s neck.

Paul held him as tightly as he dared without hurting him. All at once, his heart seemed to find its

way back to where it was supposed to be, as though it had been sitting slightly askew in his chest

but had now righted itself. “Will you be my forever love?” he asked quietly.

Nicholas hiccupped again and sneezed, making Paul laugh. “Only if you’ll be my forever

love,” he responded, looking at Paul.

“I will.”

“I will,” Nicholas replied, leaning his head back to give Paul permission to kiss him.

*****

Lucca closed his eyes, wishing he’d never read that damn diary. It was all he could think

about since the night it was found. Even after finding Christian and seeing him, those damn

words haunted him.

He’d been in Italy for a month, drowning himself in alcohol induced nightmares when he

received the one call that had just about killed him.

“Lucca, it’s either you, or I have him committed. Nicholas and I are at a loss here. This is

over and above what we can handle. He’s uncontrollable, and we’re frightened he’ll kill himself.

Please, will you come back and help us?”

Lucca pushed away from his desk and walked over to the large bay window overlooking

the ocean. It had been a month since he’d left, and nothing had changed back in Tucson. His boy

wasn’t recovering as he’d hoped. In fact, from Paul’s description, it sounded as though Christian

might be even worse off now than he’d been before. He watched the waves dancing off the

shore, letting his memories take him back to a time when he and Christian had played in the surf

for hours.

“I really need to think about this. I don’t know if I can do it either. He means the world to

me, but…”

“Lucca, please think about it. I’ll call you tonight, okay? I’d give you more time to

decide, but honestly, time’s running out. He was so distraught earlier that he tried to break his

window with his fists. He needs help, and I truly don’t want to put him in a cold, isolated

hospital where no one loves him and cares about him. I’ll do it if I have to, if it will keep him

safe, but what I think he needs is you, Lucca. He needs someone who loves him to show him the

way back, and Nicholas and I just aren’t enough. I’m just so sorry I’ve kept you from him for so

long.”

“If I do this, Paul, I’ll do it my way with no interference from you or Nicholas. No matter

what I do, you’ll need to trust that it’s for his benefit.”

“Okay, you have our promise; we will not interfere. Just please bring our son back to us.”

Lucca arranged a flight home for the following day but was as helpless as a newborn

lamb. He had no idea how he was going to get his boy through this. This was clearly out of his

league. After he hung up with Paul and Nicholas, he called Carl, who was still in New Mexico,

for advice.

“What are you having such a hard time with? We need to get that out of the way first,

Lucca; it’s preventing you from moving forward,” Carl said.

“To put it bluntly, I’m having a hell of a time getting over the fact that there’s a whole

other side to Christian I never knew about. I’m having a hell of a time forgetting and forgiving it.

I was almost relieved each time he refused to see me because all I could picture was him calling

Dwight his Master. You read that damn diary; you know what it says.” Lucca lit a cigarette and

spun his chair around to look out at the ocean.

Christian had started calling Dwight Master when they’d started seeing each other in high

school. Dwight had been teaching him how to serve, how to submit and like it. Christian wrote

that when they did this, he felt free and careless. He loved to have someone else controlling him,

telling him what to do next and when. In the beginning, he’d thrived under Dwight’s dominance,

even enjoying some of the more benign aspects of the sex play—the occasional spanking, the

nips and pinches—but it wasn’t long before the pleasure had turned to pain and abuse. Christian

couldn’t deal with the humiliation that Dwight seemed to like handing out. Apparently, Christian

had also begun to lose track of time often enough that it had scared him.

Dwight would start working with him, and before Christian knew it, it was curfew and he

was being driven home. He couldn’t remember a lot of it, but he did remember when Dwight had

started to physically abuse him. When Christian would agree to do precisely what Dwight

wanted, things were almost tolerable, but the moment he defied Dwight, the moment he’d

attempt to resist the boy, the consequences were always severe.

He’d been raped shortly after they began dating, though Dwight had convinced Christian

it wasn’t rape; it was merely Christian’s duty to serve his Master in any way chosen. Christian

didn’t truly love Dwight, and it was only because Dwight scared him that Christian had come to

resent him. He’d tried breaking it off, but Dwight was very determined.

“Carl, I don’t know that I can do this. What if I don’t do this right, and I fuck him up

worse than he already is?”

Carl growled and Lucca blanched.

“So, that’s it then? You’re giving up? Throwing in the towel and walking away? What

the fuck happened to you? I taught you better than this shit. You used to be so damn stubborn.

You never gave up without a fight, and now you’re acting like a coward! I have to be honest

here, Lucca, you’re pissing me the hell off,” he yelled, giving Lucca the feeling that Carl was

right there with him, poking him in the chest to emphasize each word.

“That boy should be in your heart!” he yelled. “That boy lives right there in that chicken-

shit heart of yours. Do you honestly feel that what the two of you had is over? That the feelings

are dead? Does your heart tell you he’s not worth fighting for?”

Lucca took a deep breath and slowly shook his head as though Carl could see him. “He’s

worth it. We’re worth it.”

“Then you get your fucking head screwed on straight, goddammit! When you came to me

all those years ago and asked me to train you to become what you are now, I had no idea it’d turn

into this. If I’d known, you can damn sure bet I would have refused you and kept you as my

submissive. But I didn’t, Lucca, because you are a Dom. You are a Master, and it’s high time

you started acting like one. Pull off those fucking panties you’re wearing and grab those balls.

Feeling sorry for yourself never did well for you, so start fighting back and mean it. Do it for

you, do it for me, and most importantly, do it for Christian.”

Lucca found himself on the jet early the next morning, planning his course of action. He

and Christian would be going to his cabin in the White Mountains. Everything else was going to

wait because nothing else mattered as much as Christian did. He was more determined than ever

to see this through.

His boy needed him. He was crying out for help, and it was time to do something about

it. In less than an hour, he’d only be known as Master Lucca.

Chapter Seventeen

“Lucca? What are you doing here?” Christian stared at the hard eyed man he loved more

than life itself. Those black eyes sparkled with mystery and love but were also laced with a

hardness he’d never noticed before. “Are you okay?” he asked, sitting up.

He flung his legs off his messy bed and rose to his feet, never moving his eyes from

Lucca’s intense stare. He took small steps to meet his lover halfway across the room. It’d been

too long since he’d seen him, since he’d felt those powerful arms holding him close, keeping him

safe. Finally, he was able to take a breath without it hurting, without it threatening to choke him.

“Where have you been?’

Lucca didn’t say a word but continued to make his way to Christian, his body stiff, his

expression determined. He didn’t stop when Christian stood directly in front of him. Instead, he

kept walking, forcing Christian to either retreat or be stepped on.

“Lucca? What’s wrong? Where…?” He was stunned into silence when he was pushed up

against the wall hard enough to knock the pictures down. With an umph, he looked up into those

dark eyes and gasped. He saw anger, desire, disgust, sadness, and love all rolled into one. “No,

Lucca. Please, you don’t understand.”

Lucca kept him pinned to the wall, using his body as a brace and his leg as a wedge to

force Christian’s shaking ones apart. Christian gasped when Lucca grabbed his left hand and

slowly raised it until it was high above his head. He used his other hand to do the same with

Christian’s right arm, then locked them both in a one fisted grip.

Lucca moved in and pushed his pelvis almost cruelly into Christian’s body. Almost at

once, Christian’s dick woke up, all of its attention aimed at the man who held him captive. He

could feel the blood rushing down and gathering at the head of his pulsating, painful cock. It had

been too long since he’d had his lover buried deep inside his body and he needed him; he wanted

him. Oh, to feel that thick, long cock being pushed into his ass until Lucca was buried deeply

within his body was all he could think of. It was all he had thought of, though he’d told no one

how much he missed him.

Lucca continued to hump against him, letting him feel how hard he was for him. Even

after all this time, after everything they had been through, Lucca still wanted him!

“Lucca!” he cried out, bucking against Lucca’s leg, trying to find that friction he so badly

needed. He could feel his dick leaking and making his shorts wet. He groaned, feeling his ass

quiver for Lucca’s beautiful dick. “I need you inside me. Please?” he begged. “I need to take my

shorts off; it hurts.”

Lucca ignored his protest. He reached down and grabbed at Christian’s already painful

erection, giving it a few good, hard squeezes. Christian moaned with pleasure at the rough

treatment. “Yes, oh, fuck yeah.”

Christian closed his eyes, his breath coming in short, rapid gasps. A shiver ran through

his body, causing him to whimper with need.

Lucca leaned his head in close, his heated breath caressing Christian’s ear. “You should

have listened to me, boy.”

Christian’s eyes flew open, his heart panicking and his pulse racing. In a full-fledged

panic, he read the threat for what it was, and he tried to move away, to get away from the anger,

but he found he was effectively trapped. He was caught between the wall and Lucca’s massive

body.

“I warned you once. There will not be a second time.” Lucca swept his strong but gentle

fingers up the side of Christian’s now naked body. He stopped at a nipple and pinched until it

was as red as a cherry and as hard as a pebble. Christian cried out in sweet agony when Lucca

gave the same treatment to the other.

Christian could only moan in pleasure and desire. Those fingers left his nipples all too

soon, making their way up to stop at the base of Christian’s throat. Lucca’s head dipped lower,

and he licked at the exposed skin, nibbling just below his ear. Christian cried out when Lucca bit

down hard enough to break the skin but groaned out in pleasure when Lucca’s hot tongue lapped

the area moments later.

Sweet God, the electrifying currents that ran through his blood were enough to make him

feel as if he were on fire from the inside out.

Lucca grabbed a handful of those long, golden curls and pulled until Christian was forced

to his knees, his mouth lined up with Lucca’s hard dick.

“Open,” Lucca ordered as he yanked Christian’s head closer to his throbbing cock.

Christian offered no resistance; he did as ordered. “Do not do anything but open that pretty little

mouth of yours. No sucking, no bobbing. You will take what I give you, and if you gag, you’ll

pay. Do you understand me?”

Christian stared at one of his favorite parts of Lucca as he nodded and opened his mouth

in anticipation. He forced his tongue flat to give Lucca’s cock more room. It was so hard not to

play with it; he just wanted to lick and suck and taste. He opened his eyes and looked up at the

man he loved with every fiber of his being, and froze.

He tried pulling away, but the hand tangled in his hair kept his mouth firmly surrounding

his Master’s dick. He tried to scream in fear and protest, but it died long before the sound could

escape from his throat. He was forced to submit to his Master, and he found he was still as hard,

if not harder, than he was before.

“Who am I to you, boy?”

He felt a sharp pull to his hair that forced him away from the hard, wet dick. “No! This

can’t be,” he cried out, trying to crawl away, but he was stopped by the force of his Master’s

painful hold around his neck.

“Tell me, boy!”

Christian forced himself to relax to ease the pressure around his throat. He took in a gulp

of air and cleared his head of the fanciful nightmare.

On his knees before the one man who understood his needs, he bowed his head and said,

“Master Dwight.”

*****

Lucca stood in the doorway with his heart in his throat, listening to Christian cry out in

his sleep. Without giving himself a moment to think, he stormed into his green eyed imp’s room,

threw the covers to the end of the bed, grabbed a thin, white wrist and yanked.

His boy’s eyes flew open, his mouth stuck in a silent scream as he was roughly spun

around and thrown up against the wall with a thump. Pictures fell off around them, glass broken

and ignored.

Lucca’s low, feral growl came from somewhere deep inside him. All he’d heard were the

words, “Master Dwight,” falling from his boy’s lips, and it had cut him right to the bone with

anger, disgust, and disappointment. Dream or no dream, those words just about killed him.

Lucca ignored the terror in his boy’s eyes; he ignored the shaking body he held against

the wall with his own, and he ignored the whimpers.

“Boy, I’m going to show you who you belong to, and when I’m finished with you, you’ll

never again question who your true Master is.” He took Christian’s chin into the palm of his

hand and held it so he could stare into those lying eyes. “You’ve been let loose too long, boy.”

Lucca ignored the tremors that raked over Christian’s body when he bit the inside of his

lover’s white neck, not hard but not gently either. Lucca licked the area where there was sure to

be a bruise and slowly ran his tongue along Christian’s jaw line. He paused in his primal pursuit,

his lips mere inches from Christian’s mouth. He looked deeply into those feral eyes and growled,

“You’re mine.”

“No! Let me go! Daddy! Please help me,” he screamed. Christian looked into Lucca’s

eyes—danger and passion mixed there, and he shook his head in denial, angry at his body’s

involuntary response to Lucca’s demands.

“Scream all you want, boy. No one’s coming for you. You. Are. Mine. Now, I want you

to pack up seven days’ worth of jeans, shirts, socks, underwear, one hoodie, one jacket, and a

pair of boots. You have sixty seconds,” Lucca said, releasing Christian and looking at his watch,

“beginning now.”

“I won’t! Who the fuck do you think you are to storm into my room and demand

anything from me? Get the fuck outta my room and my house, or I’ll call the cops and have you

thrown in jail for breaking and entering!”

Lucca glanced at him and back at his watch. “Forty-five seconds. You have a choice here,

boy. You either pack or you’ll go as you are, and you’ll remain naked the entire time you’re with

me. What’ll it be?”

Lucca tried to ignore the flushed cheeks, the wild, greener than green eyes, the rapid rise

and fall of his boy’s chest. All he really wanted to do was grab him in his arms and hold him

close, to keep him safe and secure, but he knew he couldn’t do any of that if they wanted

Christian to get better.

“Fifteen seconds, boy.”

“Fuck you! You’re crazy if you think I’m going anywhere with you. Get out of my

room!” Christian’s head bobbed from the door to his window, looking for a way out.

He licked his lips and pulled at his t-shirt, yanking it over his head. “You want it so bad?

Fine! Take it, then go!” He hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his sweats and started to pull

them down before he was stopped.

Lucca grabbed his thin wrist and squeezed it until Christian released his hold. “You’re

outta time.” He looked Christian up and down and smirked. “Better for me I guess. Less shit to

haul around. Let’s go,” he said, pulling Christian after him to the door.

“No! Someone help me! Daddy, please don’t let it happen again!”

Lucca’s heart pounded double time in his chest. He hated to scare the kid, but there

wasn’t another way. He had to do this for all their sakes. In one move, he grabbed Christian

around his thin waist and threw him over his shoulder. The boy let loose a scream that Lucca

swore made his eardrums bleed.

“That’ll be about enough out of you, boy,” he growled, giving that lovely little ass a hard

swat. “Enough! You’re without choices anymore. Now, shut it!” He added another hard swat and

exited the room. “Don’t think I won’t gag you, got it?”

“You can’t do this to me! My parents will not allow this; they’ll call the cops, and you’ll

go to prison. Let me go!”

Lucca made his way down the stairs with his burden, spotting Paul and Nicholas standing

in the study, watching him with wide, teary eyes.

“Daddy! Please, help me. He’s gonna hurt me. If you love me, you won’t let him do this

to me. Oh God. Please, daddy, help me!”

“Christian, that's enough,” Paul responded, his arm around his husband's shoulder.

Christian looked at Nicholas, who was openly crying. “Daddy, don't let them do this to

me. You're supposed to love me! Don't you love me anymore?”

Nicholas bit his lower lip, fighting with himself. He wiped his eyes and nodded. “I love

you very much, son. This is in your best interest and ours. Please don't give Lucca a hard time.”

Christian stopped his fight for freedom and looked at his parents in shock, which was

quickly replaced by disbelief and anger.

“Daddy! I swear, if you let him do this to me, I'll hate you forever! Don't you think I've

suffered enough, been through enough? How can you do this to me?”

Paul squeezed Nicholas's shoulder to give him strength, and Nicholas leaned into his

husband with a soft whimper. “Yes, son, we've all been through this together, and we'll be here

for you when you come back home. This has to stop, though—the drugs, the alcohol, the boys,

and the attitude. It's not good for you…for any of us. We want you to get better.”

“No! You hate me! You've always hated me! If you make me go with him, I'll never

speak to either of you again! Do you hear me? Never!”

Lucca growled and swatted his boy’s ass twice before he turned away.

“Daddy!” Christian tried wiggling out of Lucca's arms and hitting his lower back to get

loose, but Lucca simply held on tighter. “Let me go!”

“I'll call you in a week,” Lucca said, opening the door.

“No! Daddy, if you don’t stop this, I’ll never forgive you. Do you hear me? It’s your fault

this is happening to me! You were supposed to protect me from them, and you didn’t. You let

them take me and…”

Lucca swatted Christian’s ass three times in rapid succession, and, for a brief moment, he

felt his boy’s body go entirely limp. But before he had the chance to contemplate it, Christian

began flailing and screaming once again.

“Shut it!” Lucca commanded. He shifted his squirming package and looked at the two

men who stood quietly off to the side, each with tears in their eyes. “I’ll call you both with an

update. Maybe the two of you should use this time to reconnect as a couple. I promise you, he’ll

be fine.” Lucca turned and strode to the door, thankful that Paul had packed a suitcase for

Christian the night before. Mario had put it in his trunk as soon as he’d pulled up because they all

knew the boy would indeed balk just to see if they’d carry on with this plan.

“I’m going to set you down, but you’d better not run, Christian. The games are over. Do

you understand me?”

“Yes! Just put me down.”

“Do not run. If I have to chase your ass, you can bet I’ll catch it.”

“Fine. Just put me down.”

Lucca sat him on his feet and opened the passenger door. “After you.”

“Where are you taking me?”

Lucca really didn’t give Christian room to get away; his only choice was to get in the

vehicle or try to slink to the ground and scurry off. Christian got in and Lucca shut the door. He

kept his eye on his boy as he walked around to the driver’s side. He opened the door and slid in.

“I asked you a question. Where are you taking me?”

Lucca started the engine and looked at Christian. “Seatbelt.” Once Christian complied, he

put the vehicle in drive. “You have two choices, Christian. Your first one is rehab.”

“And my second?”

“Time with me so I can help you.”

Christian guffawed and slid lower in his seat. “I’ll take rehab.”

Lucca’s heart sank in his chest, but he kept his face passive. “Okay.”

The rest of the ride passed in silence, the air almost too thick to breathe through the

tension that filled it.

Thirty minutes later, Lucca pulled up and stopped in front of a massive complex located

deep in the Dove Mountains. The area was covered by trees, grass, and cacti. Small rodents ran

here and there; desert life surrounded them, and the sun beat down all around causing heat waves

to roll off the distant pavement. The massive stucco complex blended in with the hues of the

desert, almost giving one a feeling of stepping back in time.

“This is it?”

Lucca nodded and shut the engine off. “Let’s go.”

Christian sat in the car, staring out the window and taking in the scenery, waiting until

Lucca opened the door for him.

“Out, Christian,” Lucca said sternly.

Christian slid his legs to the side and continued to take in the scenery. “You’re leaving

me here?”

“It’s rehab. They’ll help you here. Come on.” Christian slid hesitantly off the leather seat

and stood to the side, still looking around. He was visibly scared, and Lucca picked up on it right

away.

“I don’t have any clothes,” Christian mumbled. He took tiny steps to follow Lucca to the

stairs that would lead them to the massive, wooden doors.

“I’m sure your parents will bring you some when you’re allowed visitors. Come on,”

Lucca urged.

Christian followed behind him quietly, now looking at the stairs they climbed. Lucca

arrived at the flagstone landing first and turned to look at him. “Hurry up. I have an appointment

to keep.”

“Lucca,” Christian said quietly, “please don’t do this.”

“I’m not doing anything. I gave you two choices; you chose rehab, so now I am merely

giving you your choice.”

“Lucca, please? Please, let me go with you. I promise to do whatever you want. I’ll be

good. I’ll do anything for you. Please don’t leave me here alone! Please?”

Lucca had to bite his tongue, and his heart felt as if it would leap from his chest. Things

were going to work out the way he’d planned after all.

“But you chose rehab. Isn’t that what you said?”

“Oh God, please don’t. Lucca, please, I want to go with you,” Christian said, openly

crying. He grabbed hold of Lucca’s arm and tried pulling him back down the stone steps. “Okay?

Come on, Lucca. Can we leave, then? I won’t do anything you don’t want me to. Please, don’t

leave me here alone.”

That about did Lucca’s heart in. Hearing the pain and fear in his boy’s shaky voice, cut

him to the bone. Damn good thing he had his sunglasses on, or he’d give himself away, and

Christian would see the pain and misery in his eyes.

“On one condition, boy.”

Christian jumped in front of him. “What? Anything. I don’t care what it is. Any

condition, Lucca. Just please, can we go?”

Lucca nodded. “Promise me you’ll behave and do what I say?”

Without hesitation, Christian nodded and pulled Lucca over to the car. “Yes, anything, I

promise. We can go, right?”

Lucca smiled to himself. His heart raced in elation and his inner voice shouted for joy.

He opened the door and stood to the side. “Get in, boy, and buckle up.”

Chapter Eighteen

An hour into the ride, Christian began to get edgy. He felt as though he had been drinking

a tankard of coffee and had no place to expend the energy from the caffeine. He bounced in his

seat, pulled at the seat belt that felt as if it were trying to choke him, and he crossed and

uncrossed his legs, his entire body fidgety and restless. Each deep breath he drew came out in

loud gusts until he finally panted in frustration. Every now and again he’d sneak a peek at Lucca,

who sat on the driver’s side looking as cool as a cucumber, every bit as collected as he always

looked. Did nothing ever rattle the man’s nerves?

Christian sighed and tried to slide down in the seat, his feet moving to the beat of music

only he heard. To try to control himself, he thought of better times in his life, but each time he

did, an image came to mind that was one he hated to see.

Nervously, he stuck a finger into his mouth, caught the nail between his teeth and began

biting at it, a habit he’d picked up in the past month, and one he did without realizing he was

doing it.

He glanced out of the passenger window and tried to concentrate on the passing scenery,

but really, what was there to see in the middle of a huge desert? Cacti, sagebrush, some sickly

looking cows eating said sagebrush? Oh yeah, that was a sight. Oh, or maybe the store billboards

that lined the freeway telling travelers their goods were priced right. What a fucking joke. What

did they sell out here anyway? Cactus and dirt? Food—most of the signs offered homemade

food, hot apple pie, and ice cream. Who in the hell wanted hot apple pie in Arizona?

A memory came to him, one that had always made him smile in the past, but one that

made him frown now. His so called father Nicholas had, at one point, decided he was going to

become a professional baker, and his guinea pigs were none other than Christian and Paul.

Nicholas was so very pleased with himself over his accomplishment that he’d decided dessert

before dinner was the best course of action for that night. He’d served each of them big slices of

hot, cinnamon apple pie with a mound of vanilla ice cream, then went on to tell them how he’d

slaved all day to make the crust, peel the apples, and shave the fresh cinnamon to create the best

apple pie ever.

It had smelled wonderful. In fact, their mouths had watered in anticipation of the first,

sweet bite. Christian had dived in and filled his fork with hot apples dripping with a touch of

caramel and ice cream and put it in his mouth. Happily, he’d begun chewing when suddenly, his

taste buds screamed at him to stop whatever it was he was doing. With watering eyes and

running nose, he’d looked at his parents, trying not to make a big scene by spitting the toxic pie

into his napkin, but the more he’d chewed, the hotter the bite had become. There was no way he

was even going to pretend to try to swallow it.

He’d jumped away from the table, knocking his chair over and nearly face-planting in the

process. Racing to the kitchen, he spit it out in the sink, stuck his face under the faucet, and

inhaled gulps of cooling water to put out the fire that was burning in his mouth and throat. As it

had turned out, his father had accidentally spilled some sort of hot seasoning into the filling

mixture, but he’d been absolutely sure he’d added enough sugar and cinnamon to cover up the

mistake. It had taken Christian’s taste buds two days to recover from that epic fail.

Christian bit at another nail and looked down at the floorboard, willing all thoughts of his

parents out of his head. Thinking about the past was just a wasteful use of brain cells. What he

really needed was a joint to chill out. He was getting angry, though. Not only had the beast in the

driver’s seat yanked him out of bed, but he also hadn’t given him time to collect some personal

items to bring on this damn journey to save his fucked up soul. He could picture in his mind’s

eye exactly what he could have grabbed for the trip. It was all in his top dresser drawer, all the

paraphernalia that made for a happy Christian. Dammit!

He looked at Lucca again, angry as hell with him. Why was he butting in anyway? Who

and what gave him the right to take him away and try to ‘help’ him? Who the fuck said he

needed help? His fathers? Just because he wasn’t the sweet little boy they’d pampered all his life,

they freak out and call Captain Clueless in to save the day. Hadn’t they figured it out yet? He

didn’t need to be fixed. Hell, he didn’t want to be fixed. He wasn’t broken; he was new and

improved, and if they didn’t like it that was their problem.

As his thoughts raced madly from one thing to another, he’d begun thinking about

Dwight. Had he wanted to be with Dwight as a slave? As his slave? Had he loved Dwight or

even liked him? He glanced over at Lucca again, who still hadn’t said a word to him since they’d

left that so-called rehab clinic, and knew the answer to that question beyond the shadow of a

doubt.

He had always loved Lucca. But Lucca wasn’t like him; Lucca wasn’t a sexual deviant

like Christian was. He’d never understand that life, nor would he ever accept it. Was it a life

Christian even wanted? Did he want to be treated like an object, a thing without value, a nothing

that wasn’t allowed to have a say so, or a mind of his own? Did he want to be used by several

men at once, to be beaten and raped several times in a single night?

No! Jesus, what the fuck was wrong with him? Why did his mind go there? He took a

deep breath and raked his fingers through his long hair.

He really needed a shower; a nice, long, cold one right about now would be good. Then a

line or three, a glass of lemonade, and porn, in that order, would work just fine. That joint he’d

been thinking about would work too; he’d take anything to stop fidgeting around like a popcorn

kernel in hot oil. Maybe a cigarette would help, and he looked over at Lucca, thinking of asking

him for one. He knew Lucca only smoked when he was stressed out and he saw the pack in his

shirt pocket, but to ask Lucca for anything would damage his pride. Fuck it!

They were all out to get him—Lucca, his fathers, the doctors, everyone. Just who the

fuck did they think they were? They knew nothing about the horror he’d lived through. They had

no clue what it took for him to cope with the memories that lurked in the dark recesses of his

mind, waiting to catch him off guard and terrorize him over and over again. So fuck them all!

“Christian, are you thirsty?”

For just a millisecond, Christian was excited that Lucca had finally spoken to him, but he

quickly shoved that aside. Lucca had stolen him away like Dwight had done and to do what?

Show him who his “real Master” is? And okay, so maybe that was just a little sexy if Christian

was being honest with himself, but what did Lucca know about mastering anyone? Please! The

man couldn’t even bring himself to discipline the dog when he’d caught her happily gnawing on

his favorite pair of Ferragamo shoes. Christian looked out the window at the passing mountains

and shook his head. He wanted nothing from him. From any of them.

“Are you sure? This will be the last place to stop before we get there, and it’s another two

hours.”

“I said, no,” Christian snapped. He’d die of thirst before taking anything from him. He

closed his eyes and let his jumbled thoughts scatter, determined to ignore the person behind the

wheel.

“Alright, Christian,” Lucca replied around a cigarette that he’d pulled out of the pack and

lit.

Christian’s nerves were almost shot, and the smell of that cigarette drove him over the

small ledge he’d been standing on. He unclipped the seatbelt, ignoring Lucca’s warning look. He

folded his legs beneath him and started bouncing on his knees like a kid who’d been mainlining

sugar. He was coming unraveled and he needed something fast.

“Put your seatbelt back on. The last thing we need is a ticket.”

“Fuck you! I didn’t ask to be dragged out of my house for a joyride around the country. I

fucking hate car rides.”

Lucca’s jaw muscles shifted into overdrive, and he took a deep hit from his cigarette,

ignoring the outburst. “Put. It. On. Don’t make me pull this car over,” he growled through

clenched teeth, not daring to look at him. Great, now he sounded like his dad.

“Fuck. You.” Christian looked over at Lucca and had one of those oh shit moments when

he instantly realized he’d just royally fucked up, and it was too late to take it back.

Lucca slammed on the brakes so hard that Christian flew forward, hitting his head on the

dashboard, and in the next moment, he found himself being hauled out of the SUV, nearly falling

on his ass on the hot desert floor in the process. Fuck, Lucca moved fast when he had to.

“You will not disrespect me. I said to put your seatbelt on; it wasn’t a request.”

“You sorry bastard! You hurt me!” Christian’s forehead throbbed where it had become

intimately familiar with the dash, and he held his hand up looking for blood. “What the hell is

wrong with you? Are you crazy? Jesus, Lucca, I’m pretty certain my parents’ goal here was not

for you to bring me back dead.

Lucca grabbed his arm and forcibly put him back into the running vehicle. He reached

around Christian’s thin body, grabbed the seatbelt, and locked it. “Do not…take it off…again.”

Before Christian could unleash another string of insults, the door slammed in his face. He

grabbed at the buckle and put his thumb on the release button but quickly drew it away when

Lucca sneered at him from the driver’s side. OK, yeah, so maybe this was a battle he didn’t want

to fight just now. It must be over a hundred degrees outside, and if Lucca decided to dump him

along the side of the road, he’d die. Again, probably not the goal here.

By the time Lucca stopped, Christian was sweating and feeling light headed in spite of

the A/C, which kept the inside of the vehicle almost cold. There were times it felt as though he

was floating outside of himself, as though he was watching someone who looked exactly like

him going through the motions of living, yet it wasn’t really him. Then he’d have a flashback

and come slamming back to the reality of his existence.

He’d paid no mind to his surroundings; actually, if truth be told, he didn’t give two shits

where he was. All he knew was that the damn vehicle had finally come to a stop, and he could

get the hell out of it and get some fresh air. His stomach was spinning around like a top, and his

head spun right along with it. He took a few shallow breaths and opened the door. Lucca had

parked in front of a…cabin.

“A cabin? Please tell me this is not where we’re staying. It’s wooden. A wooden cabin,”

he said, finally looking around and taking in the scenery. “Where are we?”

He looked up, trying to find the blue sky he remembered seeing back on the highway, but

all he could see now were trees; huge trees surrounded them. He spun around, forgetting for a

moment that he was ill and looked up, taking in the magnificence of the age old trees. There was

no sky left, just green leaves and brown branches reaching out up there and touching one

another.

“Are we still in Arizona?”

Lucca walked up the four steps that led to the cabin’s front door and stopped as he slid

the key into the doorknob.

“Yes, we’re still in Arizona. Not all of it is desert, Christian. Come on, let’s see what

waits inside.”

*****

Lucca opened the door and stood to the side, waiting on Christian to enter. He didn’t

want to give him a chance to turn tail and run off. That wouldn’t be ideal on any level. They

were miles from civilization and God only knew what wild animals lived in the White

Mountains.

He hadn’t been to the cabin in ages and was glad, the moment he opened the door, that

he’d sent a few of his staff members up to give it a good cleaning and airing out. Ms. Maye had

even gone shopping and prepared loads of food for the stay. Most of it sat in the deep freezer,

and the rest of it was in a cooler in the back of the truck.

He watched Christian take in his surroundings and bit back the urge to engage him in

conversation. That would come later. For now, they had a habit to kick.

“Come on, Christian. It’s well past lunch and I’m starved.”

“I wanna stay out here,” he replied, looking off to the side of the cabin. “How long are

we staying here anyway? Are we goin’ home in the morning? I have some stuff at home that I

need. Can you have someone go get it and bring it to me?” He looked at Lucca with hope in his

eyes and frowned when Lucca shook his head.

“We have everything we need. Come on in.”

Christian looked down at his flip flops and looked back at Lucca with a smirk. “I’m not

exactly dressed for the occasion. Maybe you need to take me home now.”

“You are home. Now, come on.”

The boy hesitated a few times before he followed Lucca into the cabin. Now the hard part

would begin.

“Have a look around while I make something for us to eat,” Lucca said as he walked

toward the kitchen.

Christian looked at everything from where he stood in the doorway. “It’s quaint, isn’t it?

Who owns the place?”

“It’s mine; I’ve had it for years, actually. Are sandwiches okay?”

“Yours? How come I never knew about it? What else is there that I don’t know about

you?”

Lucca heard the snide tone in his voice, but chose to ignore both it and the irony of that

particular question coming from Christian. There would be time to correct that behavior, but not

right now.

“It never came up,” he replied heavily. He wanted to blurt out that lots of things about the

two of them had never come up—say, for example, a certain diary. Instead, he turned to the

fridge and took out packets of meats and cheeses for the sandwiches.

“I’m not hungry. I don’t feel well; I really think I need to go home.”

Lucca opted to ignore him. He could hear the anger just beneath the surface of Christian’s

tone, and to engage in anything beyond the basics would be pointless.

“How about if you peel the cucumbers? The little peeler thingy is in the drawer in the

island here.”

He looked up and watched Christian pace the living room. This had been the first time

Lucca had seen the inside of the place since he and Carl had parted ways. They used to spend

weeks at a time here together—him learning how to take pleasure in submitting, and Carl

holding him every step of the way. He hadn’t even had a chance to look at the new couch and

love seat he’d had delivered a couple of days ago. The neutral beige matched perfectly with the

dark wood floors. He preferred to have no pictures on the walls. The only ones he had ever hung

were of the good times he and Carl had had together. He shoved the thoughts back to where they

belonged, as they had no place in his life at the moment. It was time to heal the man he loved and

bring him back to feeling like a whole person again.

“Chris, the cucumbers?”

Christian spun around and glared at him as he plopped down on the love seat. “I hate

when you call me Chris, and I told you I’m not hungry. Peel them yourself if you want them.”

That wasn’t exactly the response Lucca had been hoping for, considering Christian’s

history with cucumbers. Ah well, he’d known going into this that he had his work cut out for

him.

“Suit yourself.”

*****

Christian sat on the front porch swing mindlessly gliding back and forth, trying to

remember how Lucca had gotten them where they were. Everywhere he looked he saw trees, and

the road seemed to disappear around a bend after about a mile. He knew because he’d walked it,

determined to make his way home on foot. That had been a couple of hours ago. He was sure he

knew the way they’d come in, but once he hit the fork in the road, he was lost. There was

nothing to see for miles in every direction he’d looked. Figured. None of this was for his benefit.

His parents had probably made a deal with Lucca to take him away and keep him away, hoping

something would happen to him so he could never give them grief again.

His insides felt like they were alive and trying to find their way outside, and he couldn’t

stop shaking and sweating. He just needed to find someone who had a hit, but he was stuck in the

middle of nowhere! Just one damn hit and he’d feel so much better. It’d take the edge off at least.

What did Lucca plan on doing with him anyway? They were in the damn mountains, far

away from home, and he was completely at Lucca’s mercy. He’d tried looking for the keys to the

SUV, but that proved fruitless. He’d wait until Lucca went to sleep, and try again. He’d have a

better chance of making it out alive if he had wheels. Now it was just a matter of waiting.

“Christian, why don’t you come inside? It’s dark out there, and honestly, there are

species of freaky looking wildlife up here that have always boggled my mind.”

Christian kept swinging back and forth, his bare feet flat on the wooden deck. All he

wanted to do was leave. He’d made plans for tonight, and he was missing them now, no thanks

to his concerned family.

“Why are we even here? There’s nothing to do; there’s not even a freaking convenience

store around here. I hate this! Ever since you brought me here, it’s the same damn thing. Sit and

stare. I wanna go home.”

“Come inside and we’ll talk.”

Christian stopped the swing and looked down at his lap. “I wanna go home. Please?”

Lucca shut his heart against the pain in Christian’s pleading voice. He knew from

experience a user would do whatever they had to, say whatever they had to, just to get to that

next hit. This wasn’t his boy, this was a monster in his boy’s body, and until he got those damn

drugs out of his system, his boy would remain lost to him. When he saw the tears rolling down

Christian’s cheeks, he nearly caved. This was going to be harder than anything he’d ever done.

“Please, Lucca? Please, take me home. I promise I’ll be good. I won’t yell at my parents

or hang out or anything. I’ll go to school and study hard.” He looked up at Lucca and nodded as

though he was attempting to will Lucca to nod along with him. “Okay? You’ll take me back to

my parents? Right?”

“Come inside, Christian. Maybe a shower will do you some good, huh? A nice warm

shower and something light to eat? You missed lunch and dinner.”

Christian’s head shook in denial. His hands balled into fists, and he started swinging

more violently, jerking the chain more and more each time.

“I wanna go,” Christian stood up and faced Lucca, his face red and wet from tears, and

screamed, “home!” The sound of his voice echoed in the stillness, returning the command to

Lucca again and again before it finally faded away.

Lucca was not prepared for what happened next. Christian flew off the porch and took off

running.

“Christian, stop! Don’t do this; it’s dark out here. Dammit!” His heart thudded in his

chest as the adrenaline took hold. He grabbed the flashlight he kept on the porch and took off

after him. “Christian, stop running. These woods aren’t safe at night!” Frantically, he ran in the

direction Christian had taken off in. He kept the flashlight in front of him, sweeping the area

around him and hoping to see the damn kid. “I’m gonna kick his ass,” he mumbled when he

tripped over a root. “Christian, come on! I don’t want you to get hurt!”

It might have been several minutes or two hours; he’d lost track of time, but Lucca

continued to run, coming up empty handed. He was perhaps three miles from the cabin, in the

middle of the mountains with a flashlight, and his boy was out there somewhere.

“Christian!” he yelled, spinning around, shining the light in among the trees.

“Why couldn’t you leave me alone? Why didn’t you leave me there? Why did I live?”

Lucca froze at the sound of the disembodied and anguished voice coming from

somewhere in the trees to his right. He swept the light in the general direction and almost fell to

his knees in thanks. Christian sat against a broken tree trunk, sobbing.

“Oh, baby,” Lucca whispered, “thank God.”

He walked slowly toward him, making sure not to scare him off. He knelt in front of him

and waited.

“I can’t do this. It hurts. I’m lost, Lucca. I need to go home. Please?” Christian begged.

Lucca gently reached out and laid his hand on Christian’s shaking knee. “Come on. We

need to get back.”

“Why can’t you just take me home? Let me call my parents, and they’ll come get me.

Lucca, I don’t want your help! I wanna go home!”

Lucca stood and held his hand out to help Christian up.

“Take it,” he demanded.

Christian eyed him through the tears and anger, then looked off to the side as if searching

for a way out.

“Do it, Christian, and I’ll chase your ass down and make you one sorry boy. This is

unacceptable behavior. It’s time to refocus all that energy you’ve been using to try to destroy

yourself, baby. You’ve been given a gift, Christian, a second chance. I know you can’t see it

right now, but it took incredible strength to survive what you’ve been through, and you need to

use that same strength now to get back to some semblance of a normal life. You owe it to

yourself to do whatever it takes to make that happen. If that’s not enough motivation for you,

then do it to honor all the boys who died in that place; do it in memory of the boys who’ll never

get their second chances. I’m not letting you go; not until you’re better. You have a drug

problem, and we’re gonna fix that. Now, take my hand; let’s get back to the cabin. And don’t

make me carry you back, because you know I will.”

Christian wiped the tears from his eyes with a brush of his hand and grabbed the helping

hand.

Chapter Nineteen

“Shh, it’s okay Christian. I’m here. I’m right here, baby.” Lucca had repeated the same

sentences so often that it no longer took thought.

He’d been sitting with Christian since three in the morning, his boy screaming and crying

from the pain. Lucca had brought damp towels, an empty trash can, and Ginger Ale into the

room with him before he climbed onto the bed, scooting to rest against the headboard, then

pulling his boy’s shivering and pain-racked body to him.

“Oh God, it hurts. It’s killing me, Lucca. Make it stop,” he cried.

Lucca wiped Christian’s sweaty brow with the damp cloth and held him tightly to his

chest. “I’m here. You’re safe.”

Christian tried squirming away, his legs thrashing around, kicking the sheet and

comforter off both himself and the bed.

“You have to make it stop. Don’t you love me? Lucca, help me, okay? Just a little, huh? I

just need enough to make my skin stop prickling. Jesus, it feels like I have spiders crawling in

my bones. Please, I’m begging you; I need just a little and it’ll go away. You love me right? If

you do, you’ll go get me some, just a little.”

Lucca winced and continued to wipe Christian’s drenched brow and face. It was hell,

infinite hell, to watch the boy he loved go through this nightmare. Having known Christian since

he was a kid, a kid who’d never shown interest in drugs of any sort, the pain of watching him

suffer now was almost more than Lucca could bear. It made him want to kill Dwight all over

again. Christian jerked back so suddenly that his head banged into Lucca’s chest with a thud. It

knocked the air from his chest, and he held Christian tighter out of instinct, causing Christian to

fight back harder.

“Let me go! I can’t breathe. I’m dying, Lucca. You’re killing me!”

“Shh, it’s okay. I’m not killing you. It’ll be okay. Are you thirsty?”

“No, dammit! I’m not thirsty; I need a fucking hit. Just a small one. It’s been too long and

I need it. Just one shot, okay? You can get it ready for me, okay? I’ll wait for you. Please, love

me enough to do this for me!”

“That is not love, Christian! That’s anything but love. Try to relax. Breathe slow and

deep and it’ll pass, baby.”

Again Christian knocked his head back into Lucca’s chest, not once but three times,

before Lucca loosened his hold enough that Christian was able to break away. Lucca was

stunned and could only watch as Christian jumped off the bed and ran to the window with his

fists raised, ready to strike.

Lucca jumped off the bed and grabbed him right before he hit the glass the second time.

He swung him away from the window and tossed him back onto the bed.

“Stop!” He yelled so loudly that it made Christian pause in his efforts to get off the bed

again. “We are fighting this thing together, baby. You’re gonna be okay.”

“No, no, Lucca. I’ll never be okay again if you don’t get me what I need. I’ll hate you

forever; I swear I will.”

Lucca took a deep breath, praying to God for the strength he needed to do this.

“All I care about right now, Christian, is that you’re around to hate me for a good long

time. Forever works for me. Now let’s just lie down and try to relax. It’ll be better in the

morning.”

“I’ll let you fuck me anyway you want. I’ll do anything. I’ll let you do anything you want

to me. You can whip me. You’ll like that, and then you’ll give me a hit, right?”

Lucca looked down into his boy’s large, frantic, pleading eyes and counted to ten to keep

from striking out. He knew it was the damn drugs talking, but to hear his lover saying those

things made him angrier than he’d ever thought possible. His jaws clenched and his temples

throbbed against the effort it took to control himself.

“I’ll do your friends, Lucca. You have lots of them. I’ll give them…”

Lucca tackled him before he could finish his sentence and pinned him to the mattress.

“Enough!” He held Christian by his shoulders and said, “You will not fucking trade your

body for drugs. You will not fuck anyone else, ever! You will not fuck me and I will not fuck

you! But you will fight this Hell, Christian, and you will win this fucking battle, and I will never,

ever, let you go. Now let’s do this together. You’re not alone, boy.”

Christian stared at him, open mouthed, as though he was seeing him for the first time and

simply nodded in acceptance. “Promise me you won’t leave me alone? I can’t do it alone.”

Lucca took his place on the bed and patted the spot beside him. Once Christian settled

back into position, Lucca wrapped his arms around his thin, quivering body, and said, “I’ll never

leave you alone.”

*****

Finally, after four days of outright hell, the drugs worked their way out of Christian’s

weakened body. Lucca sat beside his fragile, pale boy and watched as he slept, his body finally

free of the drugs and at peace, no longer thrashing, shaking, and sweating. As Christian slept

deeply, quietly snoring, Lucca showered, put a pot of soup on, and aired the cabin out.

He wrote out a schedule later in the afternoon that he expected Christian to follow,

detailing every rule and directive Lucca could think of. Now that the drugs had gradually flushed

from his system, the boy would need direction. He would need to learn how to refocus and take

interest in life again. Christian needed structure; he needed purpose, and he needed to locate the

substance of who he was once again. There would be rewards for each accomplishment,

consequences for each misstep, and privileges earned as Christian learned to submit to Lucca’s

authority. These next steps would take time and a lot of patience, but Christian was worth every

ounce of effort it would take for Lucca to help him turn his life around. The one hitch in his plan

was whether the boy would take to it as Lucca hoped he would. He was counting on it because it

was the only way he knew to help. Christian was the wild card in the scenario, and it remained to

be seen what demons Lucca might still be up against.

He would have to wait and watch carefully for the right time to become his boy’s Master.

*****

“Good morning, Christian. I trust you’re feeling better?”

Christian felt like he’d been to the bowels of Hell and knew he looked it too. When he’d

woken up, he was naked and starved and decided to see what he could do about those problems.

On unsteady feet, he’d made his way down the short hallway toward the noises he guessed were

coming from the kitchen. He spotted Lucca cutting up fresh vegetables and dumping them into a

large pot, listening to music while he worked.

Memories of Lucca taking care of him, holding him, and telling him everything was

going to be okay, flooded his mind. Without Lucca’s help, he honestly didn’t think he could have

gotten through the nightmare of coming off the drugs on his own.

God, how many days had it been since they’d arrived? A week? Maybe more. He was

feeling loads better, though. His head wasn’t so cloudy, and he felt happy, or if not happy, at

least calm for the first time in what seemed like forever.

He watched Lucca’s powerful arms as he cut more vegetables, the strong muscles in his

back and shoulders revealing themselves through his tight t-shirt, making Christian’s knees weak

with desire for the man. He really must be feeling better, he thought.

“Yes, a whole lot better, just worn out.”

Lucca dumped the last of the vegetables into the boiling water and put the utensils into

the sink.

He turned to Christian, wiping his hands dry, and said, “Well, the worst of it is over.

You’ll be okay now as long as you want to be. Drugs are nothing to play with. They don’t fix the

bad in your life; they are the bad in it. They take you away and never let you come back. They

change you and distort things. I hope you’ll think about that the next time you think about

using.”

“I don’t plan on it.” Christian looked at his feet, finding it hard to look Lucca directly in

the eyes. “Thanks for helping me and being here. I know that’s not enough, considering what

you did for me, but I mean it just the same. Are we going to be going home soon?”

“No sooner than we need to. Come have a seat. I made some broth for you.”

The one thing Lucca couldn’t grasp was that Christian didn’t appear happy to be back. It

seemed as though all he really wanted was to run away and hide, but Lucca imagined it didn’t

hurt so badly that way. Christian didn’t have to think or feel, he just had to be. He sat there

mindlessly sipping at the soup but not really enjoying it.

For two days, it was the same routine: Christian would get up; Lucca would have

something prepared for breakfast, lunch, and dinner; they’d eat in silence, and in between times,

Christian would sleep while Lucca did what needed done. Christian didn’t know, nor did he care,

what was going on in the world around him. He preferred to sleep his life away.

One evening just before sunset, Christian found himself sitting on the porch steps. Lucca

was sitting on the rocker, and they both looked out into the forest that surrounded them. The day

had gone well, each of them cleaning up after breakfast and lunch, then walking around the

property, talking about nothing in particular. Christian felt relaxed, and for the first time in a long

time, at peace.

*****

“I never knew this existed here in Arizona. It’s so…” Christian stopped walking and

looked up at the blue sky, amazed at the tranquility of his surroundings.

“Free,” Lucca said quietly.

“Yes, free. The air is softer here, clean and fresh. How far can we hike through here?”

Lucca looked around and took a deep breath, realizing how much he’d missed spending

time here. After the wildfires several years earlier, the vegetation had grown back greener and

thicker. Though many of the trees had been burned to the ground, and many more had been cut

down, the forest was finally coming back to life. Thankfully, his cabin hadn’t been in the fire’s

path, but several others had.

“There’s a trail through the woods that goes on for miles, ending at a clearing near a huge

lake. Maybe we can go there sometime.”

“How come we never came up here before now?”

They were walking again, taking their time. Christian stopped often to look up at the sky

or down at the forest floor or to just look around them. Lucca hadn’t seen a look of calm on his

boy’s face in a long time. In fact, as he thought about it, he had to admit he’d never seen him

looking so peaceful, not even when they were in Italy.

“I guess we were too busy with other things. We’re here now, so let’s just enjoy it.

“We need to get back to the cabin; it’s almost lunch time.”

Christian frowned and looked down.

Noticing the look but trying not to read too much into it, Lucca continued, “We’ll come

back again, Christian. We have all the time in the world.”

Christian looked up with hope in his eyes and a tiny smile that Lucca had missed more

than he’d thought.

“Promise?”

He nodded and led the way back. This little exercise had been good for them both. After

all they’d been through over the past week, they’d needed to be aired out just like the cabin had.

Christian had dropped more weight, weight he couldn’t afford to lose to begin with, and his

coloring was slowly fading away. Lucca was afraid that the show of outward calm was, in truth,

an ever deepening sense of apathy that was threatening to undermine his boy’s recovery.

Christian’s eyes had lost the sparkle that Lucca had fallen in love with many years before.

Something had to bring his boy back to life, and he was bound and determined that he would be

the one to do just that.

Chapter Twenty

The time had come. Lucca had allowed Christian plenty of time to rest after his ordeal,

and so, with the drugs purged from his system and his mind now capable of focusing, Lucca took

the first steps to becoming the Dom he was meant to be.

He laid the foundation as they sat on the porch, or rather, as he sat on the rocking chair

with his boy at his feet. He explained, in a calm but authoritative voice, the truth of what it meant

to be a submissive, of what it meant to give over control of oneself and to place complete trust in

a Master. He explained that a Dom/sub relationship was not designed to be abusive or degrading;

rather, it should be an exchange, a mutual arrangement based on respect for their individual

needs and their love for another. From the outset, their relationship would be about direction and

discipline. Obedience would be rewarded, while disobedience would result in punishment.

Christian never questioned him; he didn’t argue with him, and he didn’t say he didn’t

want it. That was a promising first step, but Lucca knew for damn sure it didn’t mean that

Christian was ready to jump onboard with the plan. Lucca realized he had a major challenge

ahead of him, undoing the damage Dwight had inflicted.

Christian understood what and who he was, but he was scared to death to give that much

of himself to someone else. Dwight’s abuse had left him terrified to think about giving up even

the slightest amount of control. Dwight had wanted to be his Master, and look where the hell that

had gotten him.

But the course Lucca had planned for him held no hurt; it held everything but that. There

would be care, honesty, respect, and most importantly, love. But the question remained, would

Christian give himself up to that extreme? Could he? He wasn’t so sure he could ever allow

anyone that sort of power over him again, but he owed it to himself to take that step and try, for

both himself and for Lucca. One small step at a time was all Lucca was asking of him, it was all

he asked of himself. Lucca gave him focus and direction and Christian began to thrive when

Lucca praised him. Christian approached this new lease on life with a passion that Lucca hadn't

seen from his boy in what seemed like ages.

In the beginning, Christian appeared to adapt well. It was entirely evident that he needed

the focus and direction. He seemed pleased to do as Lucca instructed and took pride in Lucca’s

pleasure and praise. He did everything with a passion Lucca hadn’t seen from his boy in what

seemed like ages. Christian needed the focus; he seemed to thrive under the direction Lucca gave

him, and he took to it well.

It didn’t take long, however, for Christian to begin slipping up with more frequency. On

more than a few occasions, his mouth engaged before his brain had the chance to think it

through, or he’d refuse to do a simple chore he’d been assigned. When he made these mistakes,

Lucca was quick to correct him with a firm but gentle hand. Christian balked at the disciplining,

at the loss of privileges, and at the barehanded spankings as much as the paddling.

Lucca’s first major misstep came at the end of one particularly challenging day when

Christian had done his best to push Lucca’s patience to its limits.

From the moment Christian had woken, his attitude and behavior had been exceptionally

erratic. Lucca hadn’t seen him so agitated or belligerent since their drive up to the cabin, and the

boy seemed to be having trouble concentrating on anything Lucca was saying. He seemed

unable, from one moment to the next, to remember what he’d been instructed to do and became

irritable when Lucca would attempt to keep him focused. Lucca knew his boy was having trouble

sleeping because he could often hear Christian pacing his room in the middle of the night.

Christian was in the kitchen, supposedly washing dishes, but he couldn’t seem to focus

his attention on that simple task. Lucca had already instructed him twice to finish, but Christian

didn’t seem to care.

“Boy, this is my last warning to you. Quit playing around in there, or there will be

consequences. Don’t push your luck,” Lucca snapped.

Lucca had barely uttered the last word when Christian promptly turned, looked Lucca

directly in the eye, and with a total lack of emotion on his face, began, one by one, to smash the

glasses and plates on the kitchen floor.

“That is it, boy!” Lucca roared. He rose to his feet, stormed off to his room, and grabbed

the leather spanking paddle. His brat had clearly lost focus and needed help finding it again. He

eyed Christian standing in the kitchen, glaring at him with a glint of self-satisfaction dancing in

his eyes. He stopped mere inches from the rude boy; glass shards lay all around them and his boy

in bare feet! Lucca knew he was snarling, and if he touched Christian at that very moment, he

was afraid he’d hurt him. He pinned Christian in place with nothing more than a look, and he

counted down from fifty. All the while, the imp stared at him, just daring Lucca to do something.

Rational behavior was clearly not on Christian’s agenda today.

“They were ugly, all those stupid little yellow suns and moons mixed up together. And

stars too. The sun doesn’t even belong on the same page with the moon and stars, never mind on

dishes. Whoever designed the ugly-ass things should get a redo or give it up altogether,”

Christian said smugly.

Lucca drew a deep breath, biting back the urge to slap the thoughtless brat. The dishes

had been one of the first things he and Carl had purchased together for the cottage. If nothing

else, they had sentimental value.

“I’ve had just about all I can take of you and your attitude today.”

Christian smirked and said, “Too damn bad! I’m sick of cleaning up after you! Some help

would be appreciated you know. But I guess I’m barking up the wrong fucking tree, aren’t I? If

it’s not me, it’s a maid. Do you do anything for yourself, or do you just hire everything out? If

you don’t like my attitude, then leave! Better yet, let me leave. That’ll solve all of our problems.

You can get back to your life, and I’ll get back to mine!”

“That’s it!” Lucca was beyond fury; he grabbed Christian’s arm, forgetting the glass all

over the floor, and dragged him to living room. He went straight to the chair, sat down, and

pulled Christian onto his lap. “Ten for disrespect. Count them.”

Christian struggled and tried to roll free but was held captive by Lucca’s powerful hold.

“No! I am not counting for you; go back to school if you need help. Let me go!”

Lucca brought the paddle down right across Christian’s buttocks. Christian howled and

continued his efforts to free himself.

“I said count, boy! You’re on two.”

By the time he reached five, Christian began counting and stopped fighting to get away.

“That’s it, boy. Take it and use it. Breathe through it and let go.”

“Yes! Seven, Sir,” Christian almost cooed now, his body completely relaxed; his ass rose

now to meet the next mind blowing spanks.

“The last one, boy,” Lucca warned before bringing the paddle down and spanking him

hard enough to shift Christian’s entire body forward and almost off his lap. Lucca dropped the

paddle and gently ran his hand over his boy’s stinging ass, all the while reassuring Christian and

telling him how good he was. “To your feet, Christian.”

Christian wasted no time in doing as he was told. He stood quietly in front of Lucca, his

hands clasped at his lower back, his shoulders squared, and his eyes downcast but his head up

and proud. He’d found his focus and place once again.

Lucca stood and took hold of the paddle. “Do you have anything you’d like to say to

me?”

Christian cleared his throat and said, “I apologize for breaking the dishes and glasses.”

Lucca immediately knew Christian didn’t mean the apology. There was no sincerity

there, and just as he opened his mouth to say something, Christian peeked at him and said, “But

they really were god-awful ugly.” Then the brat had the nerve to giggle!

The room turned red around Lucca as the rage overcame him. “That’s it, boy! I have had

all of you and your fucking attitude that I can take for one day! You better get outta my sight

before I do something I’ll regret!” he roared as he grabbed Christian by the arm, dragging him to

his room, then throwing him in and slamming the door on Christian’s pleas.

“No, Lucca, no, I swear I’ll be good. I’m so sorry. Please, no, no-ooo! Oh God, no,

please, please don’t lock me in! I’ll be good. I swear!”

In the sudden silence, in the moments it took for Lucca to become reacquainted with his

sanity, he realized his mistake and threw the door open.

“Fuck me,” Lucca whispered. Scanning the room with his eyes, he finally found Christian

tucked in the corner, staring blankly and rocking his body.

Lucca quickly made his way to his boy, knelt down in front of him, and reached out. “It’s

okay. You’re okay, Christian. I’m right here, boy. Look at me,” he commanded. Lucca gently

brushed his fingers through Christian’s locks, placed his other hand under his chin, and urged his

boy’s sweaty face up so he could look into his eyes. “I’m right here, baby. Oh God, I’m so sorry.

I’m so damn sorry.”

Lucca’s heart pounded painfully in his chest. It took hours, but he eventually persuaded

Christian to trust him enough to unwrap himself and climb into bed.

Lucca left the room with the promise to leave the door open and the light on. The door

would never be closed again unless Christian wished it to be.

He then spent the rest of the night berating himself for his stupidity. His confidence in his

ability to help Christian had taken a major blow, but he remained determined to do whatever it

took to repair the damage he’d done and move forward with his plan. One of the goals he was

determined to accomplish was to get the boy to talk about his ordeal.

*****

Christian truly hated when Lucca insisted he talk about what he had no intention of ever

talking about. Ever. Lucca had been trying like hell to get him to open up about his time with

Dwight, but Christian had blown up, and that had lead to the trouble he was in now.

“When you’re on your knees before me, I want your arms behind you, hands joined,

fingers locked, and eyes down.”

Lucca had to keep looking away from Christian’s nakedness, as he’d lost the privilege of

clothing after his outburst. He rather liked the idea that his boy had lost that privilege, though.

Every time the boy walked, his sweet little ass seemed to call out to Lucca’s cock, and it wanted

to play. He quickly reminded himself they were not here to play, though.

“Wha…? I will not! I am…”

Lucca revealed the tie he’d held behind his back, and before Christian was able to finish

his statement, it was wrapped firmly around his mouth and tied at the back of his head.

“I don’t believe I gave you permission to speak. You’ll need to earn the privilege of

speaking to me freely. It seems I can’t trust what might come out of that disrespectful mouth, so

until I can, you will be gagged because honestly, I don’t care to hear it. And stop glaring at me,

or I’ll put a blindfold on you next. Ah,” he said, eyeing Christian’s hands which were now fisted

and at his side. “Hands clasped behind your back, or I will tie those as well. You have no

manners and no respect, so it’s starting at square one with you.”

Christian murmured something behind the tie in his mouth, but Lucca ignored him and

stepped away.

“Now, here are the rules, so pay attention.”

And he’d be damned if the man didn’t go through a whole fucking laundry list of things

Christian was expected to do…including his fucking laundry! Mend my clothes, start the shower,

wake me, wash me, dry me. Jesus, overnight he’d become some Cinde-fucking-rella! And, he’d

lost the privilege of clothing, so he had to stay naked until he earned something to wear. He

could feel the heat of his anger coursing through his entire body.

“Now, I have gagged you for a reason. Do you know what that reason is? If you do, nod

your head.”

Oh yeah, he damn sure did know. Revenge! Christian kept his eyes down, not out of

respect, but because he couldn’t stand to look at the beast. What the fuck was going on anyway?

What had happened to the Lucca who’d shown him love and acceptance such a short time ago?

And just what exactly was Lucca supposed to be doing while Christian was doing every damn

thing that needed doing?

He heard Lucca repeat the question. The reason, he wanted a reason. Probably because

Lucca didn’t want to hear his voice anymore. Duh.

“I’m going to assume you have no clue, therefore the gag will remain in place until you

can tell me why I gagged you, though I do believe I already gave you the answer. Remember,

every action has a consequence. You keep that in mind in everything that you do. If you perform

your tasks within the allotted time frame and to my satisfaction, it will be all the better for you.

When you think you understand why you’re gagged, come to me and kneel. Until that time, the

kitchen needs your attention.”

Christian stood as still as a statue. He didn’t feel like cleaning that damn kitchen. He was

always cleaning it!

“To your feet, Christian, and into the kitchen. The longer you stall, the more severe your

punishment will be before bed.”

With his eyes downcast and a million and one agitated thoughts roiling through his mind,

Christian headed to the kitchen. It was while he wiped the table that he remembered why the gag

was in place. Why didn’t he just take it off himself? What was Lucca gonna do anyway? Spank

him? Oh, big fucking deal. Lucca had seen his back; the proof of what happens when a slave

doesn’t listen was etched there forever. What difference would a barehanded spanking make?

Yeah, he’d been saved from Dwight and his twisted mind, but now it seemed as though he’d

only traded one form of slavery for another. And one was just as bad as the other! Profanity and

disrespect had earned him the gag, now pride kept it in place.

Dammit, why was it that each and every time Lucca disciplined him, his body had to go

and betray him? Just thinking about a spanking had his dick hard enough to cut diamonds, which

did absolutely nothing to improve his mood.

And to think, Lucca had gone and bought all new dishes and glasses, this set even uglier

than the last. The urge to break them crossed his mind, and he smiled behind the gag. He

wondered what Lucca would do, and he even went as far as holding a glass up by the rim,

turning away from the sink and letting it slip slowly from his wet, soapy fingers. He gasped

when he saw Lucca standing there watching him and quickly spun around to did what he was

supposed to.

If he did what he was supposed to, maybe he’d get to go home faster. Yes! That’s what

he’d do, then. And as soon as he was home, he was packing a few changes of clothes and leaving

Arizona.

He hung the towel over the hook and sighed. He’d cleaned the kitchen as he was

instructed. He was so damn thirsty; the gag had robbed his mouth of any moisture. Maybe he

needed to forget pride for a minute.

Deciding it was the smart thing to do, he found Lucca in the living room sitting on the

spanking chair. Christian walked slowly to stand beside the chair and cleared his throat to gain

Lucca’s attention, but he was being ignored. Kneel, his inner voice instructed, so he did, right at

Lucca’s feet. He kept his eyes lowered because he didn’t want to see the beast sitting in that

damn chair.

“Is there something you need, Christian?”

Smug bastard! He nodded and quickly put his hands behind his back, clasping them as

Lucca had instructed him to. How in the hell was he going to remember all these damn rules?

Lucca placed his book down and gently untied the tie from around Christian’s sweaty

head. He sat back with his hands in his lap and waited.

Christian licked his dry lips and cleared his throat before he tried to talk. He really

needed something to drink.

“I know…” Lucca’s cold glare halted his words, and he broke out in a cold sweat. Shit!

He’d fucked up already.

“When you address me, you’ll refer to me as Sir. You will begin each sentence with it,

and you will end each sentence with, thank you, Sir. Do you understand?”

All too well. “Yes, Sir.” Oh damn, that made his throat hurt. He needed water, badly. “Sir,

I know why you had me gagged.”

“Very well, tell me.”

“Sir, I used profanity. Not once but several times, and when you warned me, I failed to

listen.”

Lucca nodded. “Very good, boy. Now bend over my lap.”

Christian looked up with large, unblinking eyes and shook his head. “But I did what you

told me to. Why again?”

“That will be another five swats for questioning me. Do not ever question me, boy. Now,

do as I said and bend over my lap.”

Christian huffed but did as he was instructed, and when Lucca smacked his ass, his cock

nearly exploded right there on Lucca’s clean pants! What the hell was that about anyway? Left

over shit from his slave days? Fuck! Then he felt Lucca’s hands kneading his lower back and he

moaned out his approval before he could stop himself. Those strong fingers worked the knots

out, making him weak all over. He closed his eyes and savored every second. Lucca went on and

on, those hands of his turning Christian’s body to jelly…and just how in the hell did they end up

on the floor?

“Feel good?”

All Christian could do was to hum his approval. He didn’t want it to ever end. He had no

idea how long Lucca massaged him, and he had no memory of being turned over, but he did

know he was madly in love with his beast.

“What are you feeling, Christian?”

“Free,” he mumbled before giving in to the comforting darkness.

*****

“Why the hell do you keep ragging on it, huh? What, do you have some sick fucking

need to hear all the twisted details of what I’ve lived through, what I’ve seen? Will you get off

on it or something? I can’t fucking sleep at night, cuz every time I close my eyes, I see them!

They’re always there waiting for me in my nightmares, Lucca; I don’t want them waiting for me

in my reality too!”

Jesus Christ! They couldn’t have at least two days of peace? He didn’t want to talk about

things, and Lucca kept trying to force him to “open up.” Exorcising demons, yeah right! Didn’t

Lucca get it? Couldn’t he see that the more he tried to talk or think about what had happened to

him, the worse things got? He had nightmares that he’d wake up from, sweating and crying, and

he was always alone! No one could understand the hell he lived in, and no one could ever know

all they’d done to him, all they’d forced him to do, and much to his shame, some of what’d he’d

begged for. But Lucca wouldn’t give it a rest, always telling him he needed to talk about what

had happened. I can’t ever talk about it. If I do, I may never be okay. What was the big deal? He

was doing everything he was supposed to, and yet…

“Talking about it will help you deal. Getting it out of you and into the open will help,

Christian. You have to trust me enough to do that. Share your pain. Let me help you carry that

burden; then together, we’ll get rid of it.”

“I’m not talking about it! What good will it do? It’s never gonna fucking go away. It’s in

my head, and I can’t make it go away like it never happened. Maybe I should have been left

there, cuz maybe it’s too late for me.” He saw a flicker of hurt run across Lucca’s dark eyes, and

he looked down, feeling ashamed that he’d been the one to cause it.

“Christian, I know I can’t say that I understand what you’ve been through, because I

can’t, but I can tell you that I’ve done a lot of things in my lifetime that I’m not proud of, and no

matter how badly I wish that wasn’t the case, it is. I’ve owned up to my mistakes, made amends

when I could, and have moved on. No one’s life is absolutely perfect, boy. It’s time for you to

get rid of all the bullshit you keep bottled up inside of you; you can’t plan for the future if you

keep living in the past. You’ve gotta stand up and face your demons, Christian; let them know

they won’t take you down.

“If you can’t do that, then maybe you’re not the man I thought you were. Trying to

punish everybody around you by self destructing isn’t the way to go. You have to be willing to

take the first step on your own. You have to want to take that step. No matter how scary it is you

have to want it. Once you’ve accomplished that, the rest will begin to fall into place, and you’ll

appreciate those around you a lot more. It’s well beyond time to stop pointing fingers and

placing blame, baby. It won’t change what happened, and it most definitely won’t help you get

past it.”

What the hell was this? A therapy session? Like hello, he wasn’t the one who’d opted to

start this to begin with. Christian found himself getting angrier. Blood rushed to his ears, and his

upper lip broke out in a sweat. It wasn’t his fault he’d been kidnapped and become an addict.

He’d needed the drugs to cope, and right about now, he wished he had a bag full. There was no

future. There was only right here and right now; he couldn’t look beyond the next day, let alone

the next weeks and months. God, he hated the memories. The drugs had allowed him to escape

from it all.

Who did Lucca think he was anyway? Jesus, he needed to get away from him in the worst

way. What he needed to do was call his fathers. They’d come and get him.

“Thanks for the advice, Dr. Phil; I’ll take it under advisement,” Christian snapped.

“I know more than you give me credit for, smartass. This is warning number one. The

next disrespectful comment gets you the gag.

“I’ll tell you what; you know how I said I admit to my mistakes? Well, here’s one for

you; I hired an army of guards to watch over you because I thought it’d be easier on you if I

protected you from the real world like your fathers had always done. But I can see now that it

was a mistake, a mistake I’m a big enough man to own up to, and one that probably destroyed us.

Rather than having you shadowed, I should’ve been teaching you how to protect and defend

yourself.”

Christian just stood there shaking his head. He was so tired of everyone and everything.

Paul and Nicholas had raised him to be this way; he didn’t know any other way to be.

“I wanna go home.”

“Did you hear anything at all I just said?”

“Why should I hear you, when you don’t hear me?”

Lucca rumbled and had Christian in a headlock before he could even think to move. He

found himself being dragged across the room and shoved against the wall, Lucca ignoring his

yelps and protests along the way.

“And that’s two, boy. Do not move from this spot until I say you may. You will stand

with your nose against the wall, and you will think about the words respect and trust. I’m

stepping right outside. When I come back in, you will tell me what those words mean, and you

will do it in full submissive posture, you feel me?”

Jesus, Lucca could be one scary bastard when he wanted to be, but Christian refused to

dignify him with a response. Treating him like a two year old and putting him in time out wasn’t

exactly his idea of a good time, and if he was going to be treated like a child, then he may as well

act like one. They’d finally been having more good days than bad—until now. Yes, he found his

mouth often got him into trouble, and he’d earn himself a spanking or whatever, but he’d not

seen Lucca that angry in a while.

There were things he hated about this whole arrangement. Being naked all the time was

one of them. Lucca had said he had to earn the right to wear clothes again but hadn’t told him

how to earn that privilege, stating it was his responsibility to figure it out. Because it was only

the two of them, with no one else around for miles, he didn’t really worry much about it.

Although there were days Christian resisted, there was something he truly liked, and that

was the structure. Without it, he was lost. Christian couldn’t trust that his mind always knew the

right thing to do; therefore, he liked being told when and how his day would unfold. He’d never

admit this to Lucca, though.

The one thing he could definitely do without? All the chest-thumping-macho-bullshit

attitude from the man, thank you very much! What the hell crawled up his ass and died anyway?

Christian peeked around and looked out the window to see Lucca on the phone. Phone!

Blood roared in waves in his ears, his heart pounded in his chest, and he immediately forgot his

instruction to stay where he was told. He’d been asking and asking to call his parents and was

told repeatedly that Lucca didn’t have a phone handy. The liar! I’m doing all this for what? To

be lied to? He cooked, cleaned, and knelt at Lucca’s feet as he’d been ordered to, yet he couldn’t

use the damn phone? He stormed to the front door.

“You have a phone?”

Lucca spun around and glared at him, and that look caused Christian to take a few steps

back.

“I gotta go. I’ll call you later. Love you.”

Love you? Who the hell was he talking to like that? Love? Lucca wasn’t supposed to love

anyone but him. And in that moment, Christian died a little more inside, knowing he’d been

replaced because he was no longer good enough for Lucca, knowing that with everything that

had happened to him, with all the terrible things he’d done, he wasn’t worthy in Lucca’s eyes.

Lucca had replaced him, and just like that, his world came crashing in around him.

So why was Christian here with him? What was the point of all of this? Was this all just

some gigantic favor for his parents? He’d bet Lucca just couldn’t wait to take him back home so

he could get back to his new lover. And with that thought, the hurt was overwhelmed by a

stinging, gnawing bitterness. That sorry sonofabitch!

“I asked you a question, Christian.”

“Fuck you,” he said, standing his ground. Hell, he had no idea Lucca had even spoken.

All Christian could hear was the voice in his head screaming in pain at his loss.

“Excuse me? What did you say to me?” Lucca took three steps and stopped directly in

front of Christian, his eyes throwing flames.

Christian was pretty sure if he looked in a mirror right then, his eyebrows would be

cooked, but he continued on, nonetheless, not caring what his punishment might be. “You heard

me. You’re a bastard. You brought me out here in the middle of nowhere with no clothes; then

you won’t let me use the phone to call my parents, and you proceed to tell me what I’m going to

do and when and how to do it. I’m done, Lucca. Now, give me the phone and let me call my

parents so they can come and get me. I’ve had enough of playing rehab with you. The sooner I

get away from you, the better.” He actually heard his inner voice cheering him on one second,

then saying oh shit, the next. Probably because of the way Lucca’s face voided itself of all

emotion. He swallowed and demanded that his feet stay right where they were.

“Your parents are very well aware of your condition, and they know not to expect you

anytime soon. I gave you an order; it wasn’t a request. It’s obvious you need orders to follow,

otherwise you’d wind up dead or in prison.”

“Oh, go fuck yourself. I’ll fucking walk, naked if I have to. I’ll find a phone myself, and

you can just shove yours straight up your self-righteous ass. You’re not the boss of me.” There!

Now he really was acting like a two year old; why didn’t he just lie down and throw a hissy fit

while he was at it? Not the boss of me? Where in the hell did that come from? And yeah, he was

sure he’d run out there in the wild, naked. Not.

Lucca grabbed his arm and actually dragged him into the cabin and across the living

room, right back to that damn spanking chair. Lucca sat down and pointed to his room.

“Go to my room and get the paddle.”

Jesus, just how many oh shit moments could one man have in his lifetime? Christian

paled, his feet suddenly taking root where he stood. He hated that damn thing! Him and his big

mouth. Would he ever learn when to shut his fucking pie hole? He studied Lucca’s stormy, dark

eyes and gave up the fight. He did as he was told, returning to Lucca and handing him the

paddle. Everything that happened after that was a bit of blur. He remembered being pulled down

onto Lucca’s lap, his bare ass facing skyward.

“For disrespect, you get ten swats with the paddle. I will not tolerate this behavior from

you. Every single time you speak out of turn, use profanity, or do something I don’t find

acceptable, you will find yourself in this position, suffering the consequences of your

transgressions. Now, I want to hear you counting, starting…” Lucca brought the paddle down on

Christian’s bare ass with a loud thwack. “Now!”

“Oww! Are you insane? Let me up, dammit! I’m not…Oww! Some kid to be

spank…Oww!” That shit stings like hell.

“Count. You’re on four,” Lucca said in a calm, controlled voice.

If Christian was being truly honest with himself, he’d admit he wasn’t really so upset

over the paddling; he was more pissed off, and not a little humiliated, by his response to how it

felt to be lying across Lucca’s lap like a badly behaved child, having his ass spanked till it

glowed. Each time Lucca finished a paddling, his ass was lit like a neon sign and his dick stood

up proud like a divining rod that had found water.

“Oww! Shit, Lucca, stop it.”

“Six. Say it.”

Anything to avoid his body’s response. “Six. Seven.” He couldn’t stop the tears building

behind his closed lids. All he could think about was the fact that Lucca no longer loved him, and

that thought alone nearly killed him, especially after everything they’d been through since

arriving here. He’d come a long way; he wanted to be better, but he knew now he’d never be

okay. His life was meaningless, and without Lucca, he’d end up dead.

God! Why can’t he love me like I love him? Why should he, though? Christian had done

nothing but push him away since he’d woken up in the hospital. How much rejection could one

person be expected to take? But damn, what gave Lucca the right to go and find another man to

love so soon? That thought refueled his anger, and he told Lucca to fuck off on swats eight

through ten.

“Disrespect will get you nowhere. Not with me,” Lucca said, keeping him bent over his

knees.

Christian tried squirming off the lap he so desperately missed being on. He tried to ignore

the feel of Lucca’s hand on his body. He tried to ignore the scent that was all Lucca. And he was

failing miserably. He just needed off this lap before he lost what little bit of control he had and

started sobbing like a baby.

“Be still. You’re not moving until I decide you can.”

Oh God, he had to get off Lucca’s lap and soon, or he’d feel how hard he was! Christian

closed his eyes and tried to think bad thoughts, ugly thoughts, like how mortified he’d be if

Lucca noticed Christian’s rigid cock rubbing against his thighs.

“Please, let me go. I won’t say anything else, I swear.”

Lucca ignored him for several long minutes until Christian lay perfectly still. He’d do

anything to get away from Lucca; it was pure fucking torture to be this close to him and not be

able to do anything about it. Lucca was no longer his to have. Even submitting to him wouldn’t

win him back.

“Get up and take a shower. When you’re done, you head straight to bed. You are to sleep

on the floor at the foot of that bed I’ve provided for you. When you learn to respect me, we’ll

talk about allowing you to sleep on the damn thing again. Do you understand?”

Christian nodded his understanding, afraid that if he opened his mouth, he’d bust out

sobbing and beg Lucca to take him back. Why did it take him so long to realize how much he

loved this man? Why had he pushed him away? Then the name Dwight floated into the picture.

Of course, that was the reason. Why would Lucca want him after that?

Whatever. He’d do his time here with Lucca for now; then once he got home, he’d go off

and do whatever came to mind. What did it matter anyway? He was nothing but a used up junkie

who fucked and got fucked; that was all he was good for now. Maybe that was his destiny. His

own parents had thrown him away. What did anything matter anymore? Nothing did. Dwight had

destroyed him part of the way, and he’d done nothing less than finish himself off.

“Answer me, boy,” Lucca snapped.

“Yes, Sir,” came the humble reply.

*****

With a heavy and hurting heart, Lucca watched Christian walk away with his head

hanging down, his chin to his chest. Jesus, he didn’t know how hard it would be to distance

himself from the boy he loved more than life itself. He’d seen the fear and hurt as soon as he’d

turned to face him on the porch. Then there was the anger factor. Not that he could blame him;

hell, he remembered being angry with Carl a few times to the point that it had almost destroyed

their relationship.

Lucca kept reminding himself that his boy needed this structure; he needed to be brought

back to himself so he could truly live again. If Lucca had to make his boy hate him to give him

the gift of that peace, it was something he’d do many times over, if for nothing more than to see

Christian smile and laugh again, to see him bounce off the walls with the natural energy he’d

always had. The very idea that maybe that part of Christian had died the night he was taken,

made him ill. Those were parts of Christian that Lucca had always loved. Would he feel the same

about the boy if none of those qualities resurfaced?

Was he going about this the right way? Was this the answer?

“God, I sure as hell hope so. If I destroy him, I’ll never forgive myself.”

*****

The battle of wills continued in the small cabin, and for the next two days the level of

stress rode high. It had begun over clothes, or the lack of them in Christian’s case, and he’d

begged Lucca incessantly to tell him how he could earn something to wear, even if it was only a

pair of freaking tighty whities. They’d played an hour long guessing game as Christian tried to

puzzle it out.

It had taken him all day to get Lucca’s laundry done, but he’d done it. He’d walked a

mile to the river and washed each article of clothing, then carried them all back to hang them on

the line to dry. Once they were folded and put away, he stood in the bedroom with a small smile.

Then to see Lucca’s smile as he’d put on the shirt Christian had bought for him right before

Christmas, was the cherry on the whipped cream.

“We missed Christmas, Sir.”

Lucca put his baseball hat on with the bill backwards and turned to look at Christian.

“We can have Christmas any day of the year.”

“It’s not the same,” Christian mumbled. He felt the burning in his throat and nose and

turned away. He didn’t want to do this. Why did it all have to happen? He was so tired of being

sad and feeling so alone. How could he tell anyone what had happened? How could he tell them

that, for the most part, he didn’t remember it and that what he could remember, sickened him?

And to miss his favorite holiday—that day he remembered all too well.

For two days, Dwight had thrown a big party for his friends. Christian, Joshua, and

Sebastian were the centerpieces to be used in whatever way the men had wanted to use them. He

closed his eyes against the intrusive thoughts. He shoved them back to the place where they

belonged and instead, remembered taking a walk in the forest with Lucca.

“Christian? Did you hear me?”

Christian blinked a few times and kept his eyes focused on his bare feet. “No, Sir. Sorry.”

“Go get the bag I left on the couch in the living room and bring it to me. Do not open it;

just deliver it to me.”

Christian nodded absently and went to do as he was asked. The idea of peeking had never

crossed his mind, though. He was too lost under a dark cloud that had overtaken his thoughts.

Mindlessly, he grabbed the plastic bag and took it back to Lucca, not even caring what it was.

What if his parents didn’t want him back?

“Christian!”

Oh God! He looked at Lucca’s angry scowl and looked down. “I’m sorry, Sir.”

“What’s on your mind? You haven’t heard a word I’ve said to you in the past fifteen

minutes.”

“Guess I’m not feeling well, Sir. Maybe I need to go lay down for a while before I start

lunch for you.” Lucca’s exasperated sigh set Christian’s nerves on edge. He’d fucked up again.

When he’d made Dwight mad…No! Don’t think about him. He’s dead. He can’t hurt me

anymore.

“Come here and sit down.”

“On the floor or the bed, Sir?”

“The bed.”

Christian did as he was told and folded his hands in his lap, waiting. He didn’t expect the

bag he’d just given to Lucca to end up on his lap, and he gasped when it landed with a thump.

“Open it.”

He looked up at Lucca and down at the bag, nibbling on his lower lip and fidgeting where

he sat. “What is it?”

Lucca sat beside him and pulled the string loose at the top. “Go ahead. You’ve earned

them.”

Christian reached in and let his fingers brush over the contents. “Clothes? You got me

clothes?” He smiled and grabbed a handful of whatever it was, pulling it out. “Omigod!” He

shook out the red t-shirt first, then grabbed the black jeans and unfolded them. For several long

minutes, he looked at his new possessions and tried not to cry. This had to be one of the best

things anyone had ever done for him.

“You’ve earned them. You worked hard for the privilege to wear them. I put a pair of

undershorts and socks in the bathroom. Go shower and get dressed. We have a date in twenty

minutes.”

When Christian was dressed, he found a note on the table in the kitchen that said

something was waiting for him on the porch. He felt like a kid at Christmas! Lucca was right.

For the first time in days, weeks, months even, he felt light, and a tiny bit of happiness seemed to

shine through to his soul. He grabbed the note off the table and hurried outside to find another

note, along with another bag, on the porch.

“Christian, all hope is not lost. It’s within you. Put these on and walk to the road.” He

opened the box and pulled out a pair of black leather Harley Davidson riding boots, along with a

pair of Performance Range Harley sunglass.

“What the hell? Wow.” He checked the size of the boots and smiled. Lucca remembered.

The boots fit like a glove, and the sunglasses looked cool as hell from what he could see of his

reflection in the window. He found himself almost skipping down the path that would lead him

to the main road. He looked around himself, feeling like a whole new man. The fifteen minutes it

took to get to the main road passed by in a blur. Everything was alive around him, the critters,

the birds, and the trees. Even the sky seemed brighter. Today was a great day to be alive.

He made it to the main road and gasped. He blinked a couple of times and froze. Now

that was a vision of heaven on earth. The guy had on a black tee, black jeans, leather chaps, a

leather vest, and a bandana around his head. He straddled a big, black Harley Davidson

motorcycle; Christian now knew the definition of sex on wheels.

His heart jumped as if it was on a trampoline, from his toes to his throat. He had to take

some mental pictures before he moved or said a word; he wanted to remember this forever. Jesus

God, but the man was hot as fuck, sitting on that bike as if he owned the world. He wished he

could see those black eyes looking back at him, but they were hidden behind dark glasses.

Christian licked his lips and grinned. “Hey, Mr. Motorcycle Man. Can I get a lift?”

“Where ya headed, boy?”

Christian pulled his sunglasses a bit lower on his nose and looked over the top of them at

the man on the bike. “It seems I’m headed wherever you are, sexy.”

Lucca bit back a grin. The cheeky brat. “Why, what a coincidence. Get on.”

Christian wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans. Sure, he could play the tough guy, but

could he follow through? He’d never ridden on a motorcycle before but loved the way they

rumbled, and he loved the men who rode them. Hot, hot, hot! Though none of them could ever

be as hot as the man he was in love with. He climbed on and willed his body to relax. He didn’t

want his guy to know he was shaking and sweating already. They were just getting started.

“Hold on, boy.” Christian barely had time to grin before they took off down the road.

“Oh shit!” Christian screeched as the bike came to life. “Not too fast. Am I holding on

tight enough?”

“You can loosen up a bit. I won’t let anything happen. Relax and open your eyes and just

look around. That’s all you have to do, okay?”

“We won’t fall, right?”

“No. Just relax and breathe and take it all in, Christian. This is for you.”

He could do this; he could! A few steady breaths and a few miles later, he found the

nerve to open his eyes and sit up a little.

They were on a narrow dirt road that divided the forest in two. It was just them and the

wilderness. He found himself smiling and trying to take in everything at once, looking from side

to side and admiring the scenery. It reminded him a bit of Italy. His view was clear and

unobstructed, nothing at all like riding in a car. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes,

allowing himself to relax. He let his hands fall to the driver’s lap, and sighed.

It seemed as though time had ceased to exist, and they rode for miles and miles. He was

amazed and thrilled.

They eventually pulled off the road at a small diner that was literally in the middle of

nowhere. He looked further up the road and saw they were near a very small town. He had no

idea where they were, and he didn’t care. He hated to get off the bike; he wanted to keep going

forever.

He finally got off and stood back to admire the way the big guy dismounted the Harley. It

wasn’t enough that his cock had been awake and alert the whole ride up; oh no, now it was

begging to be let out at the sight of the very sexy man he’d been holding on to for miles and

miles.

“Like what you see?”

Christian grinned and licked his dry lips. “Mmm hmm…I like what I see, and I see what I

like.”

The man grabbed his crotch and cleared his throat. “Watch it, boy. Don’t play with fire

unless you can stand the heat.”

Christian swallowed the lump in his throat and followed the sexy beast into the diner.

“Well, lookie here. Aren’t you just the cutest thing this side of the Mississippi?”

Christian, who hadn’t been paying attention to anyone or anything other than the man he

was there with, looked up at the blond waitress. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, how adorable you are, and shy to boot? Been out riding, have ya? Do you live near

here? I have a daughter who loves to ride.”

“I bet she does,” Christian mumbled with a smile.

“What was that, honey?”

Christian looked at his Harley guy for help and realized that he was getting none. The

guy was too busy chuckling behind the menu.

“I mean, does she? And do you have any iced tea? I’m really thirsty.”

“Well here, let me give you her cell number. She’s very pretty, blond, blue eyes and a

body to die for.”

Christian wanted to melt right there. What kind of mother gave out her daughter’s cell

phone number to a total stranger?

“I have a boyfriend, ma’am.”

She blushed and grinned. “Well, doesn’t that figure? The cute ones are always married or

gay or both. Okay, boys, what’ll it be?”

An hour later, they were back on the road, headed back to the cabin, and the only thing

going on in Christian’s head was how good it felt to just be. His memories hadn’t haunted him

once. The only two people who existed were him and his Harley guy, Lucca.

“Christian, I want you to do something for me, okay?” Christian leaned into Lucca and

agreed right away.

Lucca pulled over on the side of the road, shut the bike off, and had Christian get off as

he began to unknot the bandana he wore around his head.

“I’m going to ask something of you that’s going to take a lot of trust on your part. If you

really don’t think you can do this, all you have to say is one word, and it comes off. We call it

good—no harm, no foul.”

Christian looked up at Lucca and nervously nodded a few times. “Okay. What is the

word?”

“Your safe word. Do you remember it?”

“Yes.” He watched Lucca walk toward him with the bandana and shifted back a bit.

“Lucca?”

“Trust me. I won’t hurt you; I would never hurt you. Come ‘ere and turn around.”

Christian obeyed before his fears could consume him. Lucca held him to his chest and

kissed the side of his neck right before he took the bandana and placed it over his boy’s eyes.

Immediately, Christian’s heart rate sped up, panic gripped him, and he reached for the piece of

material that was robbing him of sight.

“It’s okay. It’s just a bandana. Relax and trust me.”

Blind trust. Right. He accepted the blindfold and stood still as Lucca tightened it.

“Okay? Not too tight?”

Christian nodded and stood stiff as a board.

“Good. I’m going to take your hand and lead you back to the bike. I’m going to let go of

you to start it; then I’ll take your hand again and help you on, okay?”

“Lucca? No. No I can’t do that. I can’t see. I don’t like being in the dark.”

Lucca wrapped him in his massive arms and held him close. He shushed him and held

him and promised him nothing would happen to hurt him. He was scared as hell, but he allowed

Lucca to lead the way.

Once they were back on the bike, the familiar rumble filled him with a sense of power.

He could do this.

“If it makes you feel safer, put your arms around me. It’s just like before—you, me, and

the bike. We’re one.”

“But I can’t see.”

“But you can feel. That’s all I want you to do. I want you to feel and let go. I’m right

here. If you panic and need me to pull over, tug on my shirt, and we’ll stop. I’m going to take

off, alright?”

Christian bit back his fear, along with the urge to cry, and said a prayer. He then realized

what it was he’d done. Something he hadn’t done since the day he was taken away. He’d said a

prayer. He lifted his head away from Lucca’s back, allowing his stiff arms to let go of Lucca’s

chest and fall to his sides. He could do this.

“I’m ready,” he said with determination. “Let’s do this.”

“Good boy,” Lucca said over the rev of the engine.

At first the ride unnerved him, not being able to see the road ahead, but he held tight to

that fear. He gripped the seat with his legs, moving in harmony with the powerful machine under

him and the powerful body in front of him. He listened to the rumbling of the engine and felt the

vibration of the bike.

“Listen, baby, this is for you,” Lucca shouted, but it was barely audible over the rumble

of the engine and the sound of Savage Garden’s “The Animal Song” blasting for the stereo

speakers.

“Yeah! I love this song! Go faster,” Christian responded with a smile. “I wanna live in

the…” Christian sang out and let himself go.

Lucca revved the engine and gained more speed.

Christian laughed out loud and raised his hands above his head. “Yeah!” He pumped his

arms and shouted in triumph.

“What are you feeling, baby?”

“Free!”

*****

That night, after they’d had dinner and Christian had finished cleaning the kitchen, Lucca

called him to his room. When Christian arrived at the door, he found Lucca sitting naked on the

bed, and his eyes nearly popped from their sockets. Lucca fought to keep a straight face after

seeing the boy’s reaction.

“Come ‘ere,” he said, patting the bed beside him.

Christian licked his lips and looked Lucca up and down. He moved from the doorway

further into the room. For a few seconds, Lucca wasn’t too sure Christian would take the steps

and sighed in relief when he did. He saw all he needed to see as Christian made his way to the

foot of the bed and knelt down between Lucca’s legs. Christian looked up at him with pleading

eyes, then laid his head on Lucca’s thigh.

“I’ve missed this,” Christian said.

“Did you have a good day today?”

“Mm-hm, a very good day. I wish they could all be like this.”

“Like what?” Lucca placed his hand on Christian’s head and gently massaged his scalp.

He smiled when Christian snuggled in closer, seeking that contact.

“Mind free days when I didn’t have to think or remember.”

He heard the heaviness in the statement and hoped that Christian would finally begin to

open up because no healing could be done until the boy expelled the poison from his soul.

Anything other than that was just a Band-Aid on a hemorrhaging wound.

“Christian, thinking and remembering are a part of our everyday lives. What matters is

how we choose to deal with those thoughts and memories.”

“But I don’t wanna remember anything. I want it all to go away.”

Lucca felt Christian’s body grow tense as he tried to pull away. He applied pressure to

the back of his boy’s neck and urged him to remain as he was.

“A nice deep breath, Christian,” he said calmly.

He kneaded his boy’s tense neck muscles and remained quiet for several minutes until he

felt Christian begin to relax again.

Clearly, he wasn’t ready yet to deal with learning how to live with the memories. How

would he ever help Christian through this if the boy kept shutting him out? Carl had given him

tips on how to get the boy to open up, to get to a level of trust so he could do just that. Lucca was

willing to try anything to get Christian to that point. He moved his hand down Christian’s back

but paused when he tensed up again. Was it too soon?

“I’m not going to do anything you don’t want done. Just try to relax and let everything

go.”

“I want to. I really do, Lucca, but I can’t. I want to be good but I can’t.”

“Being good is overrated. Living life to the best of our ability is all we can do from one

day to the next, and pleasing yourself and those you care about is a part of it. You are a good

person, Christian.”

Christian sprang to his feet and quickly backed away to stand against the wall.

“I’m not good. I’m not! I did bad things! I do bad things and I think bad things. Stop

pretending, Lucca. I see how you look at me sometimes, like I’m damaged goods.”

Lucca moaned under his breath. “You’re not damaged goods. Christian, bad things were

done to you, but that doesn’t make you a bad person. I’m going to tell you something, and I want

you hear me. I happen to know that, through all the abuse you suffered and through all the

questionable decisions you’ve made since you were rescued, there has never been a time that you

were taken without protection. I know you’re clean, Christian. Now, come back here.”

“I wanna go home. I need to.”

Lucca studied his boy’s face and shook his head. “Come here,” he commanded. The kid

was in a full panic, so not what he’d intended for them.

Christian took several deep breaths and looked down at the floor, hiding himself from

Lucca’s prying eyes.

Lucca stood and went to him, taking Christian’s jaw in hand and forcing his boy to look

at him. “When I say come to me, that’s all you should be doing at that moment.” He took hold of

Christian’s arm and led him back to the bed. “Lie down and think only about today. Think about

the wind in your face, the blue sky, and the power of that bike between your legs, baby.”

Christian hesitantly did as Lucca said but kept his eyes wide open, watching the man

every second. Lucca grinned and lay down beside him, running his fingertips lightly over

Christian’s chest.

“Close your eyes and remember the fresh air. Remember how the sun felt as it warmed

your body,” he said in a low, comforting voice. “There you go. Just relax and feel.” Lucca’s hand

now traced a path down his chest toward his stomach, gently moving up and down, side to side.

“Remember how the roar of the bike’s engine felt as it vibrated through your body, Christian?

Did it make your cock hard, riding behind me on that seat?”

Christian swallowed hard and answered with nothing more than, “Mm hm.”

“Remember the doe and buck we saw off in the trees along the side of the road? Do you

remember, Christian?” As he spoke to Christian in a low, soothing voice, the boy began to settle

in and relax. Lucca’s fingers brushed up the hem of Christian’s shirt and slowly lifted it,

Christian rising as well, so it could be removed completely. Lucca then turned his attention to his

boy’s jeans, deftly slipping the button through its hole and unzipping them, making sure to run

his fingers over Christian’s hard dick. When it jumped, looking for attention, he moved his hand

to his boy’s thigh and gently rubbed.

“What are you remembering right now?”

“All of it, I’m remembering all of it. I remember the hawks circling in the sky above us as

if they were following us.”

“Yes, a lovely sight. That’s all you need to remember for today. That’s all you should

think about at the end of your day.” He continued to lightly run his hands all over Christian’s

relaxed body. He did this until the boy stopped flinching; then Lucca pulled both jeans and briefs

off in one quick motion, and his boy was naked once again. Lucca made himself comfortable

lying beside him, still petting and talking quietly. He made sure Christian’s eyes remained

closed, and grinned. His boy had been good; he deserved a reward.

“Oh God!” Christian cried out as Lucca’s mouth took his rigid dick into his wet, hot

mouth. Lucca grinned again, his tongue doing its best to overwhelm his lover. Christian’s needy

groans filled the room as he succumbed to Lucca’s loving mouth. Christian ran his fingers

through Lucca’s hair, urging him on.

Lucca pulled back, allowing Christian’s cock to slip from his mouth.

“Hands at your sides. Just relax and feel.” He once again took his boy’s dick in his

mouth, savoring the taste and smell of him. Damn, but he’d missed the taste that was uniquely

his Christian. His tongue played with the slit; he gently probed at it and sucked at the same time,

causing Christian to groan in pleasure. He took Christian’s balls in hand and squeezed them

before pulling back and taking each one in his mouth, humming as he sucked and licked at them.

“Oh, Jesus! Yes!” Christian screamed out. “I need it. I need this.”

Lucca sat back and studied Christian’s pleasure filled face, those pretty green eyes only

half open and filled with of desire. He leaned over and pressed his lips to Christian’s slightly

opened ones, his tongue darting in and out, daring Christian to play along. Those needy little

sounds that escaped from Christian’s throat nearly caused Lucca to throw caution to the wind

and fuck him through the mattress. It had been too long since he’d made love, had sex, or in any

way came from anything other than with his own right hand. Need for Christian became a living

force flowing through his veins, touching every nerve ending until Lucca’s body no longer knew

what it meant to exist without him.

He pulled away from his boy’s lips, laying gentle kisses along his chin, down his neck,

then lower still, to suck and gently bite at each nipple. Making his way further down, he stopped

at the tip of Christian’s hard cock. His tongue flicked out and licked at the leaking head of his

boy’s dick. As he did, Christian let out a throaty moan and reached out again, wrapping his hands

in Lucca’s hair. When Lucca pulled away entirely, Christian opened his eyes, stunned speechless

by the loss of contact.

“I told you once, hands to your sides, boy. Don’t disobey me again. Understood?”

Christian slowly lowered his hands, wary yet captivated by the savage look in Lucca’s

eyes. He fisted the sheets; he’d do anything if it meant Lucca would work his dick out a little

more with that wicked tongue of his.

Satisfied that his boy had gotten the message and wouldn’t transgress again, Lucca leaned

in and traced Christian’s lips with his tongue. The boy’s sweet mouth alone would be his

undoing. His tongue continued on its familiar path down Christian’s chest, over his flat stomach,

circling, then playfully tonguing his bellybutton. He continued his journey downward, kissing

and tasting his boy’s silky skin, burying his nose in the soft curls at the base of his cock, inhaling

the earthy scent that was uniquely Christian. Lucca was intoxicated by the feel of the beautiful

dick brushing against his cheek, so near to his lips. A slight turn to the left and that cock would

be back in his mouth, his tongue running along its length, massaging the vein that ran from root

to tip. Instead, he turned to the right and ran his tongue along the muscle on the inside of

Christian’s thigh. He bared his teeth, parted them slightly, and bit down on the tender flesh there,

just hard enough that it was sure to leave a mark.

Christian let out a yelp that quickly became a deep, guttural moan. “Oh God, Lucca,

don’t stop…please, don’t stop.”

Lucca gently kissed the love bite, then rose up slightly to fist the base of Christian’s shaft,

drawing his tongue across the slit, moaning as the taste of Christian’s precum settled itself in his

senses. It was sweet ambrosia, as addictive as any drug. He swallowed Christian to the hilt, once

again burying his nose in those soft curls. He flattened his tongue and closed his lips, sucking

that fine piece from the base to the tip, circling the head, and nipping gently.

“Omigod! Lucca, I’m gonna come!”

Lucca smiled and went down on his boy again, sucking harder, then making his way back

to the tip to play with the head again, to tease it, then swallow him whole once more. Christian’s

moans grew louder and longer. Lucca knew this was heaven; to have his boy naked and in his

bed once again was beyond paradise. He’d missed him so much. He’d missed making love to

him so much it left an ache deep inside his chest. He slipped his finger into Christian’s mouth

and hummed around his cock as Christian sucked at the digit. He wouldn’t fuck him, not yet, but

he’d make him feel pleasure. He’d leave Christian with no doubts that he was now and would

forever be in the right hands. He pulled his finger from Christian’s lips and swallowed around his

dick just as he eased his wet finger into Christian’s tight ass.

“Oh, fuck!” Christian yelled as he pushed down and welcomed the invasion. “Yeah!

More. Fuck, I need more!”

Lucca buried his finger deep and curled it slightly until he found the gland inside his

boy’s body that would give him the sweetest release of all.

“Yeah! Yeah! Oh God…Oh God!”

Lucca’s heart must have been beating at least as hard as Christian’s. The tenuous hold he

had on his self control was slipping, but he reminded himself this was all about Christian, about

giving him pleasure. He very nearly gave way completely as he swallowed every drop Christian

unloaded, riding out the intense orgasm. It was only after Christian came down and Lucca

cleaned him up that he pull away and took a good look at the handsome man he’d given his heart

to.

“Now how do you feel?”

“Free,” Christian said in a tired voice as his eyes closed.

Lucca smiled and nodded in satisfaction. He studied Christian for a few more minutes,

put his sweats on, and covered Christian with the extra blanket from the end of the bed.

“That’s right. Free. Sleep well,” he whispered before leaving the room. Pausing in the

doorway, he took a moment to watch his boy sleeping peacefully. Then he turned and walked

out, shutting the door behind him. They’d come a long way.

Chapter Twenty-One

“I really have no idea how much longer.”

Christian stopped wiping the table off and peered around the corner to see Lucca on the

phone again. Lucca walked back and forth in the front yard, unaware that Christian had stepped

onto the porch to listen in. Who was it that Lucca spoke to every few days?

“I miss you too. I’ll call you in a few days and see where we are.”

“Yes, of course. I love you too,” Lucca touched the screen on his phone and slipped it

back into his pocket. When he turned around, he stopped in his tracks upon seeing Christian

standing on the porch.

Christian was livid. He’d heard Lucca say it twice now, and this time the pain was a knife

to the chest, not once but a dozen times, stabbing and twisting to increase the agony. What the

fuck was that about? What the fuck had yesterday and last night been about? But Christian did

know what it was about. It wasn’t about Lucca loving him; it was about Lucca manipulating him,

using his power over Christian’s body against him. He didn’t care if Lucca saw him standing

there. It was plain as day now that his suspicions had become truths. Lucca was here because he

had to be, not because he wanted to be. Someone, somewhere, had taken his lover away from

him.

“Christian, did you finish your chores?”

Oh! And then the bastard doesn’t even try to explain the call! He’d just told someone else

he loved him, then had the nerve to look Christian in the eye as though nothing had happened!

Fucker! He glared at Lucca and spun around. He jerked the door open and slammed it shut

behind him.

“Who the fuck needs this? Dammit!” He went to his room and sat on the bed. “Chores?

I’ll give him chores.”

“Christian! Get your butt out here. Now!”

“Fuck off!

"I don’t believe I heard you right, boy. You wanna try again?” Lucca said, suddenly

standing in the doorway.

“I believe I said, fuck off!”

"Keeping up with the profanity will only warrant punishment. You’re well aware of the

rules. Just follow them and stop fussing. And if you keep slamming my doors, you’ll be building

new ones.”

“I won’t! I’m not a fucking slave. I didn’t ask for this.” He looked at Lucca and frowned.

He bit on his lower lip to keep from giving in to the sudden urge to cry. “What in the hell did I

do to deserve this, Lucca?”

“Deserve what, Christian? You’re the one who flew off the handle, slamming the doors.

I’m tired and hungry.”

“Then go feed yourself. I’m not your personal servant. I fucking do everything around

here while you sit on your ass.”

“That’s it! I’ve had enough of your disrespect. I can’t keep up with your moods anymore,

Christian? What’s wrong with you? Answer me that.”

“You! You’re a fucking asshole and I hate you!” He glared at Lucca, daring him to do

something. He was sick and tired of being walked on and treated like a mindless little boy. Every

time he turned around, he was in trouble for one thing or another. If he didn’t make the bed just

right, he was made to sleep on the floor. If he didn’t clean the toilet just right, he was forced to

use the outhouse. If he didn’t clean the dishes perfectly, he was forced to rewash every dish in

the place. If he didn’t wash every stitch of clothing, he had to go naked. This was worse than

being in fucking prison, he was sure of it.

“For tonight you will sleep on the floor at the foot of my bed. No blanket, no pillow. And

you’ve just lost yourself the privilege of clothes again. You are to skip dinner, and when you

think you can behave, you will come to me and apologize. Now, get your ass into my room.”

Christian snickered on his way past Lucca and yelped when his ass was swatted with

Lucca’s hand.

“Who’s snickering now? It’ll be your bare ass I’m swatting next.” Lucca mocked as

Christian entered Lucca’s room to do as he was instructed.

*****

Lucca stood hidden by the trees, watching Christian at the lake doing laundry. He was

boggled by the boy’s behavior. They’d been with one another for three weeks, and it seemed that

every few days the kid blew up like a bomb and pulled stupid shit. Just like now! He was

throwing all Lucca’s clothes into the lake and laughing!

“Very funny. Jesus, talk about passive-aggressive,” he mumbled. Turning away, his mind

was already busy working out how he’d fix this latest mess.

*****

“Christian, come here.”

“Coming,” he sang out.

Lucca was in the living room, sitting calmly, at least he hoped he looked that way, when

Christian came into the room, grinning from ear to ear.

“Is the laundry done? It took you a long time to finish it today.”

Christian’s hands were hidden behind his back, and Lucca fought against the smile he felt

rising. Some of the stunts the boy had pulled were bad, but Lucca had to force himself to laugh a

little, or he’d go crazy. Damn good thing he had extra clothes.

“It’s nice outside, so I took my time. Was there something you needed?”

“Is that so? Well, did you put the laundry away?”

Christian looked down at the hardwood floor and nodded. “I think I need to go cook

now.”

“Come here, Christian. Over my legs, ass up.”

“What?” Christian’s startled look almost made Lucca laugh. He cleared his throat and

pointed to the floor in front of him.

“I will not repeat myself. You heard me clearly.”

Christian stood where he was for a few seconds but gave in and did as Lucca instructed.

He lay quietly over his legs, waiting patiently, and Lucca was in no rush. To see this golden body

displayed in all its naked glory sent sparks of fire right to his hardening dick. He reached over to

the end table and opened the drawer to pull out a bottle of lube.

“While you’re cooking and cleaning up the kitchen, I thought I’d give you something to

think about. Say, for instance, why it’s so much easier to tell the truth than it is to lie.” He placed

his arm across Christian’s lower back to hold him in place. “Don’t fight me. You know what you

did, so why don’t you just admit it and prepare to accept the punishment.” With a smile on his

face, he swatted his boy’s lovely backside five times. “That’s for lying to me.”

“I didn’t!”

Lucca opened the bottle and poured a generous amount of the liquid in his hand. “Relax,”

he said running his free hand over Christian’s back.

“I didn’t lie! Let me up. What are you doing?”

“Relax. I won’t hurt you.” Lucca took his time, gently running his hand up and down his

boy’s back. “Breathe slowly and relax.” He ran his hands over the reddened ass and grinned. The

color looked very nice indeed. Becoming his boy’s Master certainly had its rewards. He had a lot

of things to teach him; it was going to take some time, but he never doubted Christian. The boy

was a born submissive. He yearned for it and had since day one, but Lucca wanted him to be sure

before taking him down the road they were now on.

The sick, sad part here was that it took a diary and a kidnapping for him to fully

understand how badly Christian needed it. He still felt cheated by how much Christian had kept

from him. That would be something else they would cover. Never again would Christian hide his

needs, his feelings, or his desires from him.

Lucca’s fingers glided between Christian’s ass cheeks, while still running his other hand

across the narrow waist. His fingers very gently traced the scars that lined his boy’s back. God, it

ate at him to know how they’d been obtained.

“I’m going to stretch you. Just relax and feel.”

Christian willed his body to tense up. He wanted to reject and hurt Lucca the same way

Lucca had rejected and hurt him. He wanted to scream that he wasn’t just some unfeeling body

to be used, then cast aside, but when he opened his mouth to say it, it was all swept away on a

sigh. Christian moaned the second Lucca’s finger pushed past the outer ring of muscle that

protected his tight hole; his whole body relaxed almost immediately.

“Why are you…?”

“Shh, just relax and feel. That’s it,” Lucca said as he slipped a second finger in, savoring

the tightness and heat that welcomed him. “Do not come unless I give you permission.” He

curved his fingers and brushed them up against the spot that caused Christian to jump, then go

limp in mind-numbing ecstasy. "That’s my boy, just feel. Don’t think. Don’t talk. It’s all about

feeling and hearing my voice. Always know I would never hurt you or lie to you, just as you’ll

learn to trust me and tell me the truth. Three now. Oh, there you go, so relaxed, so needy. Feels

good, doesn’t it? You like it when I slide my fingers in as deep as they can go, then pull them all

the way out just to slide them in again.” It was a statement rather than a question because Lucca

knew damn well his boy liked it just fine.

Christian moaned out, his ass seeking more of Lucca’s magic fingers. “Hell yes! Yeah!”

Lucca grinned and pulled his fingers almost all the way out and added more lube.

“You dumped all of my clothes into the lake today, didn’t you?” He slid all three fingers

back in and Christian purred.

“Yes, yes! Oh, fuck, I did. Don’t torture me!”

Lucca simply smiled, teasing the impudent little ass that was presented to him. “Shh, just

feel.”

“Oh shit!”

“That mouth,” Lucca said, picking up the small butt plug from the table beside him. “I’m

going to take my fingers out.” He added more lube to Christian’s puckered hole and introduced

the plug up to its destination. Damn, it felt so good to hold this boy. He was so damn hard that he

could barely stand the pressure; he needed to get this over with before he exploded. He was

trying to teach the boy a lesson about self-control, but if he wasn’t careful, there’d be no lesson

to learn. “Take a breath and slowly let it out.”

“Just fuck me!”

Lucca pushed the plug home in one quick motion as Christian groaned with need. Lucca

tapped it a few times, making sure it was wedged deeply inside his boy’s ass. “How does that

feel?” Christian moaned and wiggled around, trying to find friction against Lucca’s knees. There

would be none of that, though, so Lucca swatted his ass twice and had him kneel at his feet.

“You’re not leaving this in me are you? Aren’t you gonna fuck me?” He looked up at

Lucca with large, hungry eyes.

Lucca reached around and smacked his ass five times in quick succession, chuckling to

himself and watching Christian’s dick grow harder with each whack. “To your feet.”

“But…”

“And go get my clothes out of the lake. Then come back to me and we’ll see about it.”

*****

Later, Christian sat alone in his room with a smile on his face. Yes, he’d received a

spanking for setting Lucca’s clothes adrift in the lake, and yes, he was forced to suffer the

teasing of that damn butt plug, but none of it mattered because Lucca had smiled at him! When

he’d brought the clothes back and hung them to dry, Lucca had actually smiled! It wasn’t a big

smile by any means, but it was something for him to hold on to. Maybe Lucca could still love

him after all. He curled up on the bed and drifted off to sleep, allowing himself a small glimmer

of hope that it was true.

*****

“Oh, Lucca? Where did these come from?”

Lucca grinned. “Come here. Take this and tie him to the post there.”

Christian all but ran to grab the reins Lucca held out to him. “He’s so pretty. What’s his

name?”

Lucca dismounted the sorrel mare and led her to stand near the bay gelding. “That’s Pip’s

Dream, and this lovely little lady is Spooky Ruby.”

Christian still held the reins in one hand and reached out to pet Pip’s neck. “He’s

amazing. He’s a bay right? And look at the white star here on his face between his eyes. God

Lucca, he’s beautiful; just look at how kind his eyes are. Where did they come from?”

“A friend of mine brought them up for the day. He lives in Flagstaff. Did you pack us a

lunch like I asked?”

Christian nodded as he cooed at the horses. He stood between the two of them, chattering

away, asking them questions and answering for them too. Lucca stood off to the side admiring

the view. They hadn’t ridden in over a year; not since the last time they were in Italy, in fact, and

it was a day he’d never forgotten, running the horses along the shoreline at dusk. Thinking back

now, it was probably the last time he’d seen Christian so relaxed and at ease.

“Well, go get the stuff so I can put it in the saddle bags. We need to get a move on. We

have a full day of riding to do.”

“We’re really going riding? Omigod! This is awesome. I’ll go get the stuff!” he said

already headed into the house.

Lucca took the time to make sure the cinches on the saddles were tight. He checked each

horse’s hooves for pebbles and made sure their leg wraps were secure, finishing just as Christian

came flying out of the cabin with a bag full of stuff.

He looked over at his boy sitting proudly atop the bay gelding and felt his heart jump,

making him shiver. “Did you remember the sunblock?”

“Yes. And the tweezers and the pliers. Oh, and I snuck a couple apples in there for them

too.” He smiled then and pulled his hat further off his golden blond locks and said, “I’m sorry for

being such a shit lately. I really am. I don’t know why I get that way.”

Lucca wanted to snatch his boy down off that horse, gather him in his arms and hold him.

He wanted to kiss him and coddle him and make love to him in the worst possible way, but…that

wasn’t what the boy needed just yet. He was getting what he needed right now, and though it was

slow and painful for Lucca, it was necessary.

“Well, how about if we work on the whys of that later? For now, let’s just enjoy the day,

the horses, and each other.”

Christian nodded with a smile and shoved his hat back on his head. “We’re ready.”

*****

“Wow, I’m so full. Those were the best roast beef sandwiches ever. I forgot how hungry I

get when I ride.”

Lucca laughed and lay back on the blanket he’d unrolled from the back of the saddle.

“You’re always hungry.”

Christian sat cross-legged on the blanket near Lucca’s midsection and licked the water

he’d been drinking from his lips.

“Sometimes, but not always for food,” he said quietly.

Lucca studied his sweet face and smiled as he reached out to trace those full lips that

were just made for kissing, among other things. He ran his thumb over Christian’s perky nose

and back down to his parted lips, darting inside and urging Christian’s mouth open.

“So hot,” he whispered as he hooked his finger on the bottom row of those pearly white

teeth and gently pulled his boy down to him. For several long seconds they merely stared into

each other’s eyes, no more than a breath away from one another. Christian let out a small, needy

moan, and his eyes slowly closed when Lucca pulled him in to lie on his chest. He wrapped his

arm around Christian’s body and took a few minutes to gather his wits.

He did not bring Christian out here to fuck him, not with things the way they were

between them. All of the ups and downs were wearing him out and having sex wouldn’t fix that.

He’d brought Christian to the cabin to help him stand on his own two feet again, not to become a

crutch.

Mindlessly, he ran his hand up and down the thin back, wishing things could be different

between them, but until Christian was ready to purge his demons and come clean with him on his

own, there would be no future for them as a couple. He’d given the boy every opportunity to talk

to him; even going as far as sharing some things about himself that he never had before, events

that had taken place long ago, of which he was none too proud. Christian would sit and listen but

never once would show any interest in making a confession about his diary or discussing his time

with Dwight.

Lucca didn’t want to give Christian false hope about their relationship, because he’d

come to the decision that if they couldn’t fix Christian this go around, he would have to walk

away. If Christian couldn't trust him enough to share those important and life changing events,

there was nothing left.

“We should get going. I have some place I want to show you before we head back

home.”

Christian lifted his head and looked down into Lucca’s eyes with an expression of

confusion on his face. “Don’t you at least want to kiss me?”

Lucca wanted to do that and more, dammit anyway! He loved Christian more than life

itself, but to keep trying to ignore these gaping wounds wouldn’t do well for either of them.

“Come on, get up. We need to get going.”

Christian frowned, then sat up and got to his feet before Lucca had a chance to move.

Lucca saw the hurt register in Christian’s eyes and felt like an ass. The kid had enough hurt in his

life and here he was, adding to it. He missed his green eyed imp so much. He wanted to throw

caution to the wind and just hope things got better rather than doing what he knew would work.

There was one small issue with that, though; that wasn’t the solution to Christian’s host of

problems.

“If you’ll get all this stuff back in the saddle bags, I’ll get the horses ready.”

“Why don’t you love me anymore?”

Lucca cringed inside at hearing that pain filled question. He got to his feet and pulled his

hat off the tree branch. “I do, Christian. Let’s get ready.” He did not want to get into it with him

right now.

“No you don’t. You haven’t for a long time. Not since…since.” Christian shook his head

and knelt down to gather the empty containers off the blanket.

Lucca willed his feelings away and turned around to head to the horses but stopped when

he heard gut wrenching sobs.

“Oh, baby,” he whispered too low for Christian to hear. “You don’t know how much I

do.” He took a few deep breaths and approached Christian from the side. “Christian, please don’t

do this.”

Christian held the sobs in and shoved the containers back in the plastic bag. “Just go,

Lucca. Leave me alone.” He sniffled and wiped his nose on a napkin before he grabbed the

blanket. “Go! You said we need to get going, so just go.”

“Christian, that gets you five. Mind your tongue.”

“Why don’t we make it an even ten? Go fuck yourself. God!” Christian threw the blanket

off to the side and leered at him. “What do you want from me? Why can’t you let me go?”

“I want you, Christian. I want to give you what you need, what you want. You’re denying

a part of who you are, and you can’t keep living life that way. Let me show you what being a sub

is really about. Letting you go is the last thing in the world I want to do, baby. Work with me;

show me this is what you want and what you need.”

“What I need…it’s sick and twisted. You’ll hate me and never be able to look at me

again, and that knowledge scares the hell out of me. That’s why I used drugs, Lucca. They made

it all go away, and I didn’t have to feel or think or remember. I can’t fucking sleep at night

because every time I close my eyes, I see them and feel them; I feel their hands on my body, the

way they used, then beat me for no other reason than they could. I was helpless and I hated it! Do

you know how hard it is for me to look at you? I love you more than life itself, but I’m nothing

anymore. I hate what I’ve become. I see it in your eyes, the disgust and pain when you look at

me. Do you know what that does to me? It fucking kills me! But I can’t change what happened,

and I can’t change who I am and what I want. I’m fucking lost and alone with the pain. The

drugs took it away, and right now, all I want to do is shoot up until it stops. This, whatever it is

that we’re doing here, is only a temporary fix. You can’t erase my memories; you can’t make me

all better this time. No one can.”

Lucca bit back the praise he wanted to give Christian right then. Finally, after all this

time, the boy opened up.

“You’re not sick or twisted, and I could never hate you. I’m not perfect and I’m bound to

make mistakes, but never doubt my love for you. I’m asking you to trust me to bring you back,

Christian. You need what I can give you if you’d only accept it. It can’t work any other way. I

will not try to force your submission, but if you take the step and willingly become my sub, I

plan on forcing my will to the fullest extent. You will have to trust me enough to know that I

won’t ever hurt you. Let me show you how rewarding and fulfilling it can be when you’re in the

right hands.”

Christian looked at him, alarm bright in his eyes. “You know? About me?”

Lucca nodded. “All of it.”

“How?”

“When you went missing, a friend of mine found your diary. Why didn’t you ever tell

me?”

“You read my diary? Fuck, Lucca.”

“Thank God I did. It helped me find you. Why didn’t you ever tell me how you really

felt, about what you really wanted? I can’t tell you how much that hurt me. All the years we’ve

been together, and you couldn’t find a way to tell me that you had those feelings and thoughts?

Did you never trust me, Christian?”

“I was embarrassed. I didn’t think you’d understand, and I didn’t want to lose you, so I

kept it to myself. I tried to ignore how I felt and wrote it off to me being perverted and sick. I

didn’t understand why I felt that way, why it felt right to want to submit, why it felt right to

enjoy being spanked. When you and I messed around with bondage, it thrilled me to the core; I

wanted more and more of it and not just in bed.”

“It’s not always about sex, Christian. Submitting is about so much more than that. It’s

about giving up control but not giving up your freedom. If I tell you to do something, you do it,

no questions asked; however, the key is trust, trusting me enough to know that I’d never tell you

to do something that would cause you pain or place you in danger. You’ve been doing it while

we’ve been here. I blindfolded you and had you on the back of my bike, and you had to trust me

enough to know that I wouldn’t let anything happen to you. Nothing bad will happen as long as

you listen to me.

“Christian, I was a submissive myself a long time ago. I had a Master and I served him

twenty-four seven for two years. He saved my life; he saved me from myself. He taught me to

become who I am today. I want to become your Master, but we can only build this relationship if

it’s based on a foundation of devotion, honesty, and love. That’s who we are.”

“Then why did we wait so long? Why didn’t I ever know? Why did you keep that from

me?”

“I didn’t want to force something on you that you weren’t ready to embrace. I wanted to

give you time. I swear I would’ve told you when I felt the timing was right, baby.”

Christian looked away and shook his head. “Would it have been different if I wasn’t

taken? I mean, between us? I’d like to think I could have found a way to tell you what I wanted,

but I’d hidden it for so long it had become a way of life.” He looked at Lucca then with tears in

his eyes and wiped them away. “How do I make it all stop? The pain and disgust? How do I let it

go? How do I stop seeing him in my dreams?”

“Did you dream of him after we took a walk? After we went on the ride? After we went

swimming? Did you see him then? Is it him you see when I’m spanking you, or reprimanding

you, or have you doing your chores?”

Christian shook his head.

“Give yourself to me, Christian. Let me show you.”

“I need time. I need to think about it. I gave myself to one Master, and he nearly killed

me. I don’t know what I want right now.”

Lucca had to bite his tongue at the surge of anger that burst from his inner core. “You

didn’t do that of your own free will, Christian. What he did to you wasn’t submission in the way

it’s meant to be. You were abused. That’s not the life I want for us. If that’s what you’re after, I

can’t give it to you. That’s not a healthy D/s relationship.”

“I think we should go back. I’ll get the stuff together.”

Lucca watched him walk away, his head low and his steps small and slow. Dammit! He

rushed Christian, ignoring his yelp and backed him up against the tree behind him. With an

almost animal savagery, he kissed him, not asking for permission but demanding it by pushing

his tongue into Christian’s wet, hot mouth. He wasn’t sure who was moaning; he wasn’t sure

where the sounds of passion came from. He only knew that he loved Christian with all he was.

Christian was his! Every lovely morsel of the boy was his and always had been.

He grabbed Christian’s hands and pulled them up over his head, holding his wrists bound

in a one handed death grip, demanding without uttering a sound. His tongue worked its way

deeper into Christian’s mouth, battling for possession and getting it. Soon, Christian gave in and

moaned. Lucca didn’t stop to assess the situation; he needed his boy in the worst way

imaginable. Throwing caution to the wind, he took his free hand and ran it down the side of

Christian’s lean body, over his stomach, and down to the button on his jeans.

“Off,” he commanded through heavy breaths. He backed up just enough to give Christian

room to get rid of his clothes before he ripped them off. He watched as his boy quickly shoved

his jeans to his ankles. Next went the tee. He eyed his boy’s face, looking for any sign of

hesitation. Receiving none, he attacked those lips again.

“Lucca, please?” Christian panted as Lucca turned him to face the tree. “I need you,

hurry.”

“Lube, there’s no lube.”

“My pocket. Back.”

Lucca didn’t waste a second to wonder at his boy’s audacity. Instead, he made quick

work of locating the packet of lube and opened it.

“Smart boy.”

“No, just horny.”

Lucca grinned and kneed Christian’s legs apart, spreading them as far as they’d go with

his jeans still bunched up at his feet. He applied some of the lube to his fingers and the rest to his

throbbing dick. “I want in, boy.”

Christian poked his ass out as much as he could and begged Lucca to take him. Lucca

wasted no time with words. He knew exactly what they both needed and knew he didn’t need to

give his lover instruction; their bodies knew one another too well for that. Lucca saw what he

wanted, and he was going to take it; he was going to dominate this man in the most literal sense

of the word. He was going to claim him, possess him, and treasure him for as long as Christian

would have him. He lined his cock up to its target and eased himself in slowly, his knees nearly

buckling as he gave in to the sensation of Christian’s tight asshole gripping his cock and holding

on for all it was worth. All he wanted was to be balls deep inside the one place he hadn’t been for

months. He leaned into Christian, every inch of their bodies touching, melting together until

there was not a breath of space between them. Lucca pressed his lips to Christian’s neck, kissing,

then licking the tender area just beneath his ear. His teeth grazed the skin, nipping and sucking a

mark into the soft flesh. One way or another, he was going to mark this boy and erase the pain

and humiliation he’d suffered. “Jesus! God, baby, you’re so tight.” He reached around and

fondled Christian’s balls, rolling them in his fingers and cupping them in his palm before taking

hold of his lovely, long, hard cock. As Lucca began to find a rhythm with his hand, a rhythm that

he matched to the pounding of his own heart, his dick kept the pace, driving in and out of his

boy’s beautiful ass.

“More, I need more. I need it! Fuck yeah, fuck me hard!”

Lucca withdrew until the head of his cock was the only part of himself touching the man

he longed to possess. Christian tried leaning back for more, but a pair of firm hands around his

waist stopped his progress. “Tell me what you want, boy.”

“You! I want your dick buried to the hilt in my ass, Lucca. Please, I need it!”

“I’ll give you what you need then, baby!” Lucca growled as he rammed his dick back

inside Christian’s tight ass with a groan. “Is this what you want?”

“Yes! Jesus, yes. It’s so good; it hurts so good.”

“Do not come. You used foul language, so you do not have my permission to come. Now

take me, boy!”

“Yeah, I want all of you! Harder! Please, Master, harder!”

Lucca gave momentary pause at hearing that word. Christian had never called him that.

The only person he’d ever called Master was that…

“Please, Lucca. Move, please move!”

Lucca shoved all thoughts away and buried himself as deeply as he could within the man

who held his heart. All thoughts of space and time ceased to exist for the both of them.

*****

Lucca watched Christian lead the horses to the lake for water and caught his breath. Still

as insatiable as ever, that boy was. They had less than ten days left together. If this didn’t work

out, he’d just made things a whole lot worse than before. And now he was also contending with

the Master thing. Was Christian thinking of that fuck Dwight, or was he finally accepting Lucca?

“We need to have a serious talk soon, boy,” he whispered. He really needed to call Carl

and get his advice. Or a good cussing. Having sex in the woods was so not a part of the plan to

help his boy. Who’d mastered whom, was his next thought.

Lucca had led them to an open area along the massive lake that lay between the mountain

peaks. For miles, all they could see was the water, sand, and hills. Almost like Italy. Christian

gasped when he’d seen it, giving his horse a little kick to get there faster. He was laughing and

looking around in awe.

“We’re still in Arizona? Where did this place come from?”

“God. Race ya,” he said, smiling mischievously.

Christian had grinned and kicked his horse to go. Side by side, the horses galloped along

the water line. Water sprayed them, sand flew, and they both laughed.

“What are you feeling, Christian?”

Christian looked up at the deep blue sky, laughing, and shouted, “Free!”

*****

It’d been two days since Lucca had brought everything out in the open and Christian had

yet to agree to become his sub. In fact, he’d avoided talking all together. The boy’s mood swings

were enough to drive him to drink, and if something didn’t happen soon, he’d be forced to take

this to the next level. He honestly hadn’t meant to do what he’d done in the woods the day they’d

gone riding, but common sense had taken a vacation, and now he had to deal with it.

His phone rang and he smiled. Carl.

“How are you?” he asked, looking in the kitchen. Christian stood with his back to him,

cutting something and mumbling to himself. Lucca stepped out onto the porch to talk in private

and get some much needed advice.

He hadn’t noticed Christian looking at him through the open kitchen window, so he

didn’t take care to watch what he was saying.

“Yeah, I’m looking forward to getting back home.”

“How are things going up there, Lucca? Getting anywhere with your boy?”

“Not so good at the moment. How ‘bout with you?”

“About the same on my end. I have my hands full with this boy, but there’s something

about him. I haven’t felt this way about anyone since you.”

Lucca chuckled, “Ah, yes. Well, when you’ve had the best, baby…” He paused, thinking

he’d heard movement at the kitchen window, but when silence greeted him, he continued, “So,

what words of advice do you have for me, Carl?”

“Everything comes in its own time, Lucca. You know that. He might never be ready to

submit to you. If that’s the case, then you have to ask yourself if you’ll be able to make this work

at all. Can you live with him the way he is? Are you truly happy?”

“Not anymore. I was until I read that damn diary,” Lucca said just as he heard something

being thrown in the sink. “Oh, I’m so gonna paddle his ass! He’s throwing shit around in the

kitchen!”

“He’s what? He throws fits? Lucca, how old is he again?”

“Two! I’m gonna paddle that ass until its black and blue!” Lucca stormed into the cabin

and rounded the corner to see the backend of Christian disappearing out the back door and

flames on the stove top!

“Oh, fuck!” he yelled, throwing the phone down on the counter. “Christian! Get your ass

back here!” He frantically ran to the cupboard beneath the sink and grabbed the fire extinguisher.

He aimed the nozzle at the flames that covered the stove and countertop. Thankfully, he had it

out and under control within minutes, but his heart refused to settle down.

If he hadn’t been close by…

*****

“Oh! The nerve of that sonofabitch! Taking calls from his lover where he could be heard!

I hate you! How could you say all those things you’ve said to me and do what we’ve done

together, then do that?” He ran as fast as he could through the woods, not paying attention to

where he was going. All he knew was that he had to get as far away as he could and never go

back. “Paddle my ass! If he thinks he’ll get away with that again, that man has another think

coming!”

The trees passed by in a blur. The tears in his eyes clouded his vision, causing him to trip

over every damn thing on the ground. He wasn’t even on a path, just in the middle of the damn

woods where the sun forgot to shine. He ran until he couldn’t anymore, and when he grew dizzy,

he fell to his knees sobbing. He was so tired and emotionally spent. He was falling apart and had

no way of saving himself.

Minutes, hours, days could have passed and Christian didn’t care. His mind, his heart, his

soul, all of them felt numb. Lucca might as well have ripped his heart out of his chest. All that

shit he’d said to him the other day meant what? Just something to say to justify the fucking they

did afterwards?

“How could I have been so fucking stupid?”

He heard a noise coming up alongside him and he froze. What if it was a mountain lion?

Oh God! He’d be eaten for sure! He slowly moved his head to the right to try to spot the source

of the noise and caught the backend of a…cat? A black and white cat?

“Aw, you poor thing, out here all alone. Don’t you know about the bigger cats out here?

Maybe you should come with me.”

He slowly got to his feet and went to the bush the cat had disappeared behind.

*****

Lucca was frantic. He’d lost sight of the kid and was clueless as to what path he’d taken.

All the yelling he’d done went unanswered, and there was still no sign of the damn brat.

“Oh, when I find you, you’re not going to sit for a fucking week. Christian! Where are

you? Don’t play games with me out here.”

“Shit! Help me! Help! Please!”

Without a second thought Lucca’s feet sprang into action, and he took off toward the

sound of Christian’s cries.

“Please, let him be okay. Please,” he begged as he ran toward the screeching voice.

“Help me! Oh! My! God! Help!”

“Christian? Can you hear me? Where are you?”

“Here! I’m here!”

Lucca rounded the next bend and saw him. The brat was literally jumping up and down

and spinning in circles, screaming his bloody head off. Lucca took a few steps toward the crazed

boy and stopped.

“Oh man, Christian, what did you do?”

“It’s horrid! Make it go away!” He cried, looking at Lucca.

Lucca took a few steps back with his hand over his nose. “A skunk?”

“It was a kitten. A lost kitten.”

“A black kitten with a white and black tail?”

“You saw it too?”

“It was a skunk. And that skunk sprayed you.” He wrinkled his nose and shook his head.

“Come on. You need a bath in the worst way; then you’re sleeping outside.”

“Make it go away! I smell so gross.”

“You got that right. What did you do? Try to pick it up?”

“Well, sorta. I just crawled in after it; then it peed on me and ran off. Lucca, what if it

gets eaten?”

Lucca sighed and looked down, shaking his head. “In case you hadn’t noticed, skunks

defend themselves rather well out in the wild. Let’s take a look at you for example. Come on,

you’re not going to smell better standing there. Let’s go.”

“Go?” Christian asked, running up to him.

“Ah! That’s close enough. You are to stay at least five feet away from me. A cat indeed,”

Lucca mumbled as he led Christian out of the woods.

“Can you make me smell better? I don’t like this.”

“Welcome to my world,” Lucca replied.

Thirty minutes later Lucca had Christian sitting in a tub full of tomato juice and lemons.

He didn’t know which was worse—the smell of the skunk or the boy’s constant whining. He was

in his room, throwing his clothes into his suitcase, not caring how they fared. All that mattered

was that he couldn’t do it anymore. He’d failed. If he spent one more day in the presence of this

kid, he’d kill him. He clearly wasn’t cut out for this.

“A fucking cat!”

He zipped the first bag, snapped it up, and carried it out to his SUV.

“What in the fuck did I do to deserve this? Huh?” he yelled at the sky. “I loved him! I

gave him a part of me, and look at this shit!”

He stormed back into the cabin and growled when he heard Christian in the tub, still

carrying on about the smell.

“Keep scrubbing!” he yelled as he grabbed the other suit case. “I need a fucking drink.”

He shoved what he could into the next suitcase and threw it on the floor. He spun around and

spotted Christian standing in the doorway with a towel wrapped around his slender hips and his

wet hair hanging over his shoulders.

“What are you doing?”

Lucca spun around and grabbed another bag from his closet.

“We’re leaving. Go get dressed. You can ride in the fucking back if you still stink.”

“Leaving? Where are we going?”

“I’m leaving. You’re going to where ever it is you go. I’m through, Christian. I can’t do

this anymore. You ran off into the woods with no fucking clue where you were going, and

obviously from the stench of you, no fucking clue what you might run into out there.

“You almost burnt my fucking cabin to the ground! This is a protected forest! One cabin

fire and the whole fucking mountain goes up in smoke! And why?” he yelled, charging after him.

He threw him up against the wall in the hallway. “Why did you do that? You throw tantrums like

a fucking two year old! You immature fucking brat! Do you even care what your carelessness

could have done?” He was so mad he shook, and he forced himself to let the kid go. He glared at

him before going back into his room to finish packing.

“Get your shit together. Don’t just stand there like an idiot! What the fuck was I

thinking?”

“Lucca, please. No. No.”

“Shut the fuck up and go pack. I’ve had it with you and your moods. I can’t fix you. You

can’t fix you. You’re not fixable. Go get packed or I’ll take you outta here just like you are. I

don’t care one way or the other.”

*****

Christian stood in the doorway, stunned. He didn’t move; he didn’t say another word, and

when Lucca grabbed another smaller bag without looking at him, he turned away and went to his

room, holding his breath until he shut the door. The realization of what Lucca said slammed into

him with so much force that he lost his breath. He stood against the door gasping for air but none

made it to his lungs, all of it getting stuck in his throat until he let go, and when he did, there was

no stopping it. The tears, the anguish, the anger, all of it came rushing out in deeply painful sobs

that shook him from head to toe. After everything he and Lucca had gone through, he was going

to lose him anyway. He couldn’t blame Lucca; it wasn’t the man’s fault that Christian was so

fucked up beyond repair that no one wanted to be around him anymore. His own parents couldn’t

even stand him.

He did his best to hold the sobs back. He made himself dizzy from the effort, but he

didn’t care; he wanted to die right where he was. He had nothing left; no purpose, no goals,

nothing, and he’d allowed it to happen. He could blame everyone around him for his

misfortunes, but ultimately, it was his and his alone to deal with. He just didn’t know how to do

that.

“Lucca,” he cried, falling onto his side. He curled up as small as he could get and silently

cried.

“Christian! Are you packed and ready to go? I want to get out of here tonight.”

Christian didn’t hear Lucca calling him; he was too caught up in his own Hell, stuck in a

time he wished he could forget. He was locked in that small cage like an animal, eagerly

awaiting his master’s touch.

“Boy! Did you hear me?”

Rocking had always helped right before the drink had come to him, for a little while

anyway. Maybe they’d bring him something to eat this time. He was awfully hungry; then he

remembered that Master said he would be skipping the next three meals because he’d failed to do

as ordered. What was he ordered to do, though? He didn’t remember anything anymore.

“I’m sorry, Master. I’ll be good. I’ll be good,” he cried, staring off into the endless

darkness.

*****

Lucca growled and opened the damn door. Or tried to. Something was blocking it, so he

pushed harder and peeked inside. At first glance he didn’t see anything, but then he looked down

and saw him. Shit! He didn’t know what else to do, so he leaned into the door and squeezed

himself through the small opening, watching as Christian stared off into space, not even

attempting to move when the door slid him out of the way.

“I’m sorry, Master. I’ll be good. I’ll be good.”

Lucca’s mouth fell open and he shut his eyes against the sight that damn near took his

legs out from under him. Christian was curled up into a small ball, rocking back and forth,

mumbling over and over about master and being good.

“Fuck,” Lucca said, kneeling down. “Oh, Jesus, Christian, I’m sorry.” He had to take a

deep breath to calm his thudding heart. He reached out and tried to wipe those golden locks away

from Christian’s wet face but pulled back the instant Christian yelled out in fear.

“No! No! I’ll be good. I’ll do whatever you want! I’ll be good. Please don’t hurt me.

God, please don’t beat me again. I’ll do anything, just don’t beat me.”

Lucca sat back against the wall and watched as his boy relived the hell that he’d hidden

for so long. He did so with a heavy heart and no small amount of horror at what he’d done to the

man he’d committed to help.

“Christian, it’s okay, baby. I’m here. You’re okay.” He waited. Did anything he say

matter right now? Did he go too far this time? Would his boy even hear him? It killed him to

witness his lover in the throes of such devastating terror. Time passed—he didn’t know how

much, but what did time matter when your whole life was tumbling down around you? He had

failed and Carl had read him wrong.

“Christian, can you hear me? Please, look at me. I won’t touch you if you don’t want me

to, but please, at least look at me, and let me know you’re okay?” He wiped the tears away and

hid his face behind his hands.

“I’m so sorry. Baby, I want to help you, but I can’t if you don’t help me. I can’t do it

alone.” He lifted his head and leaned it back against the door, his long legs straight out in front of

him and his hands balled into fists in his lap.

Evan, that sonofabitch, had escaped from jail late last night, and no one had a fucking

clue as to his whereabouts. And what the fuck was he doing? He was packing Christian up to

take him back to his fathers, and then he was going to leave for Italy. Smart move! Christian was

right; he was such a bastard of the highest magnitude. Leave the kid to be taken again? Not on

his life. Christian was his. Period.

“Come ‘ere, baby. Let me hold you.”

“You don’t want me! Go away. Stay away from me! Oh God, please make it stop!”

Lucca couldn’t take it anymore; he reached out and folded his shivering partner into his

arms, pulling his struggling body onto his lap. He rocked him, promised him they’d be okay, and

kissed the top of his head before Christian calmed down enough to breathe normally. Lucca

didn’t know where his tears stopped and Christian’s began.

“Let me go. I don’t want your pity. I never wanted it.”

“I don’t pity you. This was never about pity. I want to help you.”

Christian laid his head against Lucca’s chest and took a deep, troubled breath. He

coughed a few times and again settled into the arms that held him close.

“There is no help for me. Not without you.”

“Shh, rest. We’ll figure it out,” he said, petting Christian’s back. “I’m going to pick you

up and lay you on the bed.”

Christian nodded and wrapped his arms around Lucca’s neck, and sighed. “Will they

want me back? I have nowhere to go. I have nothing left.”

“You have your freedom, baby. If you didn’t get anything else out of spending time with

me here, you at least got that back.”

Christian curled up on his side, facing away from Lucca, then closed his eyes and was

asleep within minutes. Lucca covered his naked body with a blanket and left the room, closing

the door quietly behind him.

He walked outside and smelled the storm coming in over the mountains and took a few

deep breaths, a cleansing of the soul as Carl always used to tell him.

He sat on the porch swing, contemplating his next steps. He couldn’t take Christian back

to his parents; that was not an option. Maybe Italy would be a better choice. They had friends

there, and his parents would watch out after Christian; they loved him like their own. Of course,

he couldn’t be there as well. They needed time to get over one another, and they couldn’t do that

if they were always under foot. He sighed. The last thing he expected out of all this was to be

letting his lover go for good.

Lightning lit up the sky, followed by a loud clap of thunder that rumbled and echoed

through the hills around them. They were in for a hell of a storm. He secured anything that could

be blown away and stood on the porch holding the post and looking up at the magic in the sky.

“What did we do to deserve this? He didn’t deserve it. None of us did.”

In response to his question, a rumble so loud that it rattled the windows of the cabin came

as an answer.

“No!”

Chapter Twenty-Two

The whip whirled and hissed all around him, biting into his skin and leaving trails of torn

skin and blood in its wake. The loud crack vibrated his entire body and rocked his mind, rousing

him from the partial sleep he was in. His eyes popped open in a rush of fear, seeing Evan

standing before him with his whip in hand and those cold, evil eyes glaring at him.

Both of Christian’s shoulders had dislocated when the chains had been pulled taut; the

constant stress of holding his body weight was too much for them to bear any longer, and the

agony was beyond all description. The Master hadn’t granted him the luxury of the leather cuffs,

so there was nothing between Christian’s skin and the bare chain that bit into his flesh, cutting

both wrists to the bone. His lips were cracked and bloody; his vision was dimming;

consciousness was fading as the pain threatened to overwhelm him.

He was so dehydrated after days of being denied both food and water that he was unable

to cry tears; his sobs tore from his parched and aching throat, and just as the darkness came to

claim him, as his numbed mind grasped on to one last rational thought—death—he heard the hiss

of the whip, then felt its bite.

Christian screamed, “No!” and scurried to the far corner of the bed, trying to get away

from the wicked kiss of the whip, but he was trapped. The sound came again, and he squeezed

his eyes shut and covered his head, rocking back and forth. He needed to get away.

“Lucca! Help me!”

“I’m here. I’m right here, baby.” Lucca said breathlessly from the doorway, almost

frozen in place at the sight before him. “Oh, Christian, what did they do to you?”

Christian burrowed as far as he could into the corner between the bed and the wall, his

eyes wide and unfocused, peeking out through the long strands of his hair.

“I’ll do it, okay? I’ll do anything you want. Please don’t…”

A bolt of lightning struck right outside the cabin, followed by a clap of thunder so loud

that Christian cried out in utter terror.

Lucca made short work of gathering him up and holding him close. He whispered in his

ear, promising him everything would be alright. Lucca gently ran his hand up and down

Christian’s sweaty back.

“No one will ever hurt you again. I’m right here with you, Christian. Please, let it go

now.”

Christian finally let go of the nightmare that threatened to consume him night after night

and held onto the one man he needed more than life itself.

“Please, don’t leave me. I’m scared.”

“I’m not going anywhere. You’re safe and I’m right here. Go back to sleep; the storm is

passing.”

Christian, for the second time that day, fell asleep in the arms of the man who was giving

him up.

*****

Early the next morning, Christian woke to the sounds of a chainsaw. He stretched and

remembered Lucca holding him in his arms all night, never once letting him go, keeping him

safe from the storm. It was the first time in so long that he’d slept soundly and without

nightmares.

Suddenly, the urge to see the man overwhelmed him, so he raced from the house, not

bothering to stop and dress himself. He needed Lucca and he needed him now. He headed

outside and was greeted by the aftereffects of the storm; debris littered the driveway and the

yard. A downed tree had fallen inches from Lucca’s SUV, branches, and leaves littering the hood

and roof.

The sound of the chainsaw drew his attention to the left side of the driveway where Lucca

was busy cutting the felled tree into smaller pieces and throwing them into a pile. Christian

stared at the way Lucca’s muscles moved with each stroke of the saw. Shirtless and sweaty was

just what Christian needed for his wake up call.

He walked slowly down the steps, unmindful of his bare feet or naked body, and began

dragging at the debris that littered the yard. He wanted to help; he needed to show how much he

appreciated what Lucca had done for him. He thought about grabbing a pair of gloves, but

looking at the small pieces of wood, he disregarded the idea and went to work. He dragged

branch after branch off to the side of the cabin where they kept the wood pile and stacked them

in neat piles so Lucca could cut them down to size later. He looked up at the sky, wiped the

sweat from his forehead, and caught sight of his hands. He froze.

*****

Lucca turned off the chainsaw and gathered up an armful of wood, carrying it to the pile

at the side of the cabin when he caught sight of Christian standing there, locked in place,

unmoving—not a muscle twitched, he didn’t blink, and his mouth hung open as though it was

caught in a silent scream. He merely stood there staring at his hands until finally, he began to

shake uncontrollably.

“Christian?” Lucca moved in closer and only then did he notice the blood. Christian’s

hands were scratched and bleeding; his thighs and shins were scraped and dotted with blood, and

Christian was imprisoned by the horror of it.

“Christian? Let’s go get cleaned up, okay?” Lucca reached out to guide him, and when he

did, Christian let out a wail unlike anything he’d ever heard.

“Lucca! Oh, Jesus, no! No more!”

“Christian, baby, it’s okay,” Lucca said, taking his convulsing boy into his arms to hold

him close, to keep him secure. “You’re okay. I’ll fix you up in no time, good as new, shh.”

“Too much blood. Too much of it. They drained that slave of his blood and threw him

out,” Christian said, staring at his hands.

Several seconds passed and Christian shook with the memories. “They made me clean it

up with a small rag and a bucket of dirty water,” he said, looking up into Lucca’s concerned

eyes, almost pleading for him to help. “I just remember there being so much blood; it was

everywhere. By the time I was done, I was covered in it, Lucca. When I asked if I could wash

myself, they dumped the bucket of dirty, bloody water over my head as punishment.” He looked

down at the blood on his hands, flipping them over a few times; then he continued, “I had to wait

three days before I could wash his blood from my body.” Christian looked up into Lucca’s eyes,

and fresh tears ran down his now blood smeared face.

Lucca’s breath stuck in his throat, seeing the raw suffering in Christian’s eyes. “What did

he do to you? Tell me what he did.”

Christian started screaming and fighting to get away, but Lucca held him tightly. When

Christian finally stopped struggling, he looked at Lucca and begged, “Please God, help me,

Lucca. I'm so lost."

Lucca grabbed Christian and held him and whispered comforting words in his ear. He

promised to take care of him forever, no matter what that meant he had to do. He let go of

Christian’s arms and took a step back.

“To your knees, Christian,” he commanded.

Christian dropped willingly, his head bowed, his hands clasped firmly behind his back.

“Look at me,” Lucca ordered. "I want you to listen to me very carefully. Dwight may

have stolen your body, Christian, but he didn't touch your heart or soul, because they have

always been with me. So long as you are a part of me, no one will touch what is mine, and I

swear with all that I am I will share what is mine with you to help you find your way back. If you

can find it in yourself to trust me, I will see you through this."

As the tears streamed down Christian's cheeks, he looked for another long moment into

Lucca's eyes, then bowed and touched his forehead to Lucca's knees and whispered, "Be my

Master, Lucca."

*****

Christian heard the soft snick of the door closing. He knew it was ridiculous to feel safer

now that it had been closed. There were only the two of them around for miles, but he felt more

relaxed, nonetheless. There was a time when being closed into this small, dark space would have

caused him to panic, to curl himself into a ball and rock his body in an effort to release his mind

from the fear that would consume him. His entire life had been spent in one form of cage or

another, both figuratively and literally, and he’d spent so long looking for a way to escape.

Escape had always seemed to be the answer—until now. He no longer wanted to get away,

because he’d finally found release. He’d found freedom and he recognized the difference. With

Lucca, the darkness now felt like sanctuary.

The blackness that surrounded him was absolute. He was utterly blind and entirely mute,

unable to ask if Lucca was there in the room with him now. He’d been blindfolded, gagged, and

bound by the wrists and ankles to the bed for some time. To keep the panic in check, he’d

breathed deeply and concentrated solely on the thought that Lucca would never do anything to

harm him or place him in danger. There was nowhere he felt more secure than in his Master’s

presence, so he took slow, measured breaths through his nose and focused on the memory of

Lucca’s beautiful face.

He heard the scratch of what sounded like a match being struck, and smelling the slight

odor of sulfur, he knew he was right. That answered the question of whether he was still alone.

He didn’t know for certain if it was true that the other senses excelled in the absence of one, but

he truly did feel as though his hearing and sense of smell were more acute. Perhaps it was only

that he was paying closer attention, becoming entirely attuned to his Master and to what he was

preparing to do.

He heard the padding of Lucca’s bare feet moving and stopping in intervals around the

room. As the sulfurous scent of the matches evaporated, Christian became aware of a new aroma

that filled his senses. It smelled of vanilla, cinnamon, and something earthier that he couldn’t

identify. He now knew that Lucca had lit candles. He felt calmer and more relaxed as his mind’s

eye conjured the image of their bedroom shimmering with the light of half a dozen candles

placed strategically around them.

He imagined Lucca’s bronzed skin stretched tautly over his hard, lean muscles; his broad

shoulders and chest, narrowing to a slim waist; his tight, flat stomach dusted with a trail of hair

that led to a perfect cock. He allowed himself a brief moment to visualize his Master’s cock

standing firm and ready to invade his very willing body. He imagined the flames reflected in the

silky waves of his lover’s raven black hair. But the most potent image was the flicker of the

small pools of light that would be reflected in his Master’s dark eyes, the eyes that Christian had

so often become lost in when they looked at him with a love that both consumed him and set him

free.

Christian heard Lucca walking slowly toward the bed and could imagine the grace with

which he moved, like a predator stalking its prey in the wild.

Lucca stopped at the edge of the bed and checked the vial in the warming pot on the

nightstand. He dipped his fingers into the water the vial rested in and found that, while it was

hot, it wasn’t uncomfortably so. He stood silently for a few moments and simply watched. He

wanted nothing more in that moment than to drink in the sight of his boy splayed on the bed,

perfectly submissive and breathtakingly beautiful. The candlelight amplified his soft, golden

skin, and Lucca imagined himself tracing his fingertips along the contours of his boy’s body,

feeling each silken inch of him, perhaps following his fingers with his tongue in places.

The platinum collar Lucca had ordered custom made for Christian some weeks before,

shone around his boy’s long, graceful neck. At the hasp, there was a small lock for which there

was no key. On the lock, there was one simple word engraved—Mine.

Further down his boy’s body, there was a custom made cock ring that surrounded his

shaft and balls. Christian’s dick had been hard for a while now and would remain so if Lucca did

his job properly.

“Christian, where are we? Give me the hand signal to let me know that you’re still free.”

Lucca’s voice sounded husky to his own ears; he couldn’t imagine what it must sound like to his

lover, but Lucca watched for and received the sign he’d asked for that assured him Christian was

calm and secure.

“Good boy. Now, I’m going to remove your gag, but that does not mean you have

permission to speak, not unless it’s to give me your safe word. Nod your head if you

understand.” At Christian’s nod he continued, “Good. I’m going to keep you blindfolded. This is

not about seeing with your eyes, but about experiencing with your mind and your soul. This is

about trusting that you’re safe with me. You will feel, you will experience, and if you obey my

commands and your body’s responses, you will fly. Do you understand?” Again, he received

Christian’s affirmation and knew that this would be a turning point in their relationship.

Christian felt the bed dip as Lucca shifted his weight onto the mattress. He felt a warm,

strong hand gliding over his chest, then a sharp pinch to his right nipple. He hissed through his

teeth but didn’t allow himself to express his shock and surprise at the sensation. The hand made

its way across Christian’s chest and a similar pinch to his left nipple followed. He didn’t make a

sound this time, but he did feel his cock twitch impulsively.

“Very good, love. The nipple clamps look beautiful on you,” Lucca said, reaching down

and giving each one a flick with his fingers.

Christian arched off the bed slightly, his balls aching and his dick throbbing in time with

his heartbeat. This was heaven and this was hell, and he never wanted to leave. He felt the bed

dip again and sensed that Lucca was reaching for something on the table by the bed.

The sound of a cork popping from the top of a bottle caught Christian’s attention, and he

couldn’t imagine what Lucca had planned next that would involve a bottle. He lay still and silent,

waiting to experience the pleasure he knew was coming soon.

He didn’t have to wait long as he felt a burning sensation on his skin, small points of fire

erupting, one after the other, across his chest. If he hadn’t felt an oily wetness at each sting and

caught the scent of something musky, he’d have thought Lucca was burning him with the tip of a

lit match. Then he felt Lucca begin to massage each pool of heat, slowly and with purpose. When

Lucca spoke, his voice was barely louder than a whisper.

“So beautiful, baby. Your skin is turning pink where I dripped the hot oil on your chest.

Your skin is glowing in the light of the candles; it makes me want to flip you over right now and

fuck you into the mattress…but that can wait.”

More oil, more heat, and the feeling continued downward until he felt that heat on his

dick and balls. He cried out as the burn absorbed through his skin and set fire to his body from

the outside in.

“That’s one, boy,” was all Lucca said before he delivered three sharp flicks to each of the

nipple clamps, causing them to bite into the tender flesh. Christian clenched his jaw and gritted

his teeth in an effort to remain silent. Lucca could see the sweat that had broken out on his boy’s

forehead and upper lip, for it sparkled in the candlelight.

“Where are we, baby? You have my permission to speak.”

“I’m free, Master.” It was a sigh more than statement.

“Good. You will be silent now.”

Lucca reached down to take the tie in hand that bound Christian’s right ankle. He had left

plenty of slack in all the ties with the intention of allowing his boy to rely on his personal

restraint more than the literal ones. The ties at his wrists were long enough that Christian was

able to wind them around each hand twice to give himself a better grip. When Lucca had his

right ankle unrestrained, he moved on to the left.

When both legs were freed, he ordered, “Christian, unwind the ties from your hands. I

want them to be at their full length.”

After Christian had obeyed, Lucca reached his arms around his boy’s body and flipped

him to his stomach in one swift movement. Christian gasped in surprise but otherwise remained

silent. His arms were now crossed at the wrists and drawn tightly over his head; his shoulder

muscles bunched but not uncomfortably so.

Reaching over, Lucca again grabbed the vial of hot oil and began, drop by drop, to apply

it to Christian’s back, slowly progressing lower until he was watching it dribble down the crack

of his lover’s ass. He sat the vial down and slowly began to massage the oil into his boy’s lean

muscles, taking his time, drawing out the anticipation of what was yet to come.

As Lucca’s hands glided over his body, Christian subtly began to roll his hips against the

black satin sheets. Not much at first, just enough to feel the cool silk of the sheets against the hot

silk of his engorged cock. As the clamps pinched and tweaked his sensitized nipples, he began

bucking a bit more aggressively in response.

A sharp smack, then a stinging sensation on his ass, stilled him immediately. He heard,

“That’s two, boy,” followed by a series of five open palmed smacks that left his asscheeks

feeling as though they’d been exposed to the desert sun. Somewhere, at some point before the

fifth and final spank, he let go. His mind was swimming somewhere in the ethereal realms of

complete surrender, and he was whole.

Lucca watched as his palm prints slowly materialized as a vivid pink against the cream

colored skin of his boy’s ass. He’d be hard pressed to name a sight more beautiful than seeing

the marks he’d left there.

He grabbed Christian’s hips and pulled him up to a kneeling position, head lying on the

pillow in a pose of utter submission. Using the oil that he’d poured over his lover’s flesh, he

began to massage the muscled globes of his ass, running his thumbs along its crease, teasing and

tempting.

Reaching toward the table once again, Lucca picked up a string of ebony anal beads. He

resumed his exploration of Christian’s hole, rubbing his thumb over the puckered opening and

then, ever so slowly, pushing against the tight muscles, gaining access to the narrow channel. In

short strokes, he thrust his thumb in and out, loosening the passage and loving the feel of his

boy’s body gripping him. After several long moments, Lucca slowly and gently removed it,

taking a moment to enjoy the sight of his boy’s gorgeous body displayed so willingly before him.

He bent down between his lover’s legs and ran his tongue from Christian’s balls back

toward the bundle of nerves that protected the outer ring of muscle at his asshole. He teased and

flicked, sucking and blowing cool air over the moist, heated skin. He felt his boy’s body tense

slightly, then relax, melting into an utter tranquility. The thought that he’d brought his lover to

this state, that he’d brought him back from the verge of self destruction to this point, brought

tears to his eyes.

Taking the anal beads in hand, he drew them up and down Christian’s crack several

times, tickling and teasing, then finally stopping at the entrance to his body. Slowly, he pressed

the beads inside one at a time, pausing briefly after each one to read his lover’s reaction. When

he reached the eighth and largest bead, Christian moaned aloud, but Lucca allowed it. His boy

was so far gone that it was done without conscious will.

He massaged Christian’s ass again, concentrating on squeezing in just the right places to

make the beads move and rub inside his tight channel. Gripping the ring, Lucca slowly fucked

his boy with them, nearly withdrawing them all the way each time before thrusting them back in

to the hilt.

Gently, he began to remove the beads again, one by one, drawing out the exquisite

pleasure of mastering his boy’s body, delivering a sharp spank at the appearance of each pearl.

Christian’s rapid panting and drawn out moan told Lucca that his boy was beyond ready for his

Master’s cock.

Christian had never in his life been so aware of his body. Every inch of skin, every nerve

ending, every inch of his cock were so intensely stimulated that he felt the vibration begin at the

center of his being and spread outward like the ripple effect after a pebble breaks the surface of

water. He wasn’t sure how much more he could endure, but he would wait for the order from his

Master to come. This was torture in its purest form, not the vicious pain of abuse but the

exquisite agony delivered by a lover whose single purpose was to set his soul flying. Lucca had

done that and so much more.

As he felt the last bead being removed from his hole, Christian nearly screamed out,

begging, pleading for Lucca to fuck him, to please have mercy on him and his aching cock. No

sooner had he bitten his tongue in an effort to remain silent, than he’d felt Lucca’s fingers at his

hole, pressing and finding entrance again, stretching him and nearly sending him to the breaking

point.

Finally, after nearly being pushed beyond his endurance, Christian felt Lucca’s fingers

leave his body to be replaced by the broad head of his Master’s cock. Massaging, pressure, and a

dull sting, followed quickly by the full feeling he got each time Lucca invaded him again sent

Christian’s mind somewhere in the direction of heaven.

Lucca nearly came the moment the head of his cock slipped through the protective

muscle surrounding his lover’s hole. His boy was so tight, and the body gripping his dick was so

entirely seductive he had a difficult time controlling the urge to consume and absorb him until

they only existed as a single being. He gripped Christian’s thighs and thrust his hips until his

balls were flush with his boy’s ass. Planted deeply, he rolled his hips in an effort to bury himself

deeper, if possible, and to graze the spot in his boy’s body that would send currents of lust up his

spine.

Lucca moved his left hand purposefully up Christian’s back, gripping his imp’s hair and

tugging until he could gain access to the lips he longed to taste. Lying flush over his boy’s back,

he licked and teased, but it wasn’t enough. Lucca needed more. Gently pulling his dick free of

the body that held him, he gripped Christian by the waist and, once again, flipped him onto his

back. At Christian’s cries of protest, Lucca delivered a sharp flick to each nipple clamp.

“Listen to me, boy. I will be removing your blindfold. I want to look into your eyes and

see your face when you come. You have my permission to speak. I want to hear you beg me to

fuck you. I want to hear you pleading with me to let you come, and you will not come until you

have my permission. You will tell me now that you understand.”

“Yes, Master, I understand, Sir. Please…please.”

The last please fell in a whisper and was all that was needed for Lucca to plant himself, in

one thrust, back into his boy’s ass. He leaned in to deliver a long, searing kiss to his lover’s

sweet mouth, tongues tangling in a duel of passion while his hips rocked in a rhythm as old as

time.

Rising and hooking his arms behind Christian’s knees, Lucca thrust harder, wordlessly

demanding that his boy take all he could give. The sounds of their passion filled the room—the

sighs, moans, heaving breaths, and the echo of skin meeting skin surrounded them.

“Your ass feels so fucking tight on my cock, baby. You’re gonna make me come so

hard.”

“Yes, Master, it’s what I want. I want you to find release in my body. I want to feel you

come inside me. I am yours, body and soul, now and always.”

Lucca looked into the fathomless depths of his boy’s green eyes, losing himself in the

ecstasy, drowning in the passion and total surrender he saw there. Lowering Christian to the

mattress, he rested his weight on his left arm, freeing his right hand to fist the delicious cock that

strained and twitched against his boy’s belly. He soon had a stroking pace set that matched the

timing of his thrusting hips, keeping both himself and his lover straddling a line between sanity

and the surrender of control to the infinite passion that existed between them.

“Fuck me, Master. Jesus Christ, Lucca, please…please. I need to come, Sir…please.”

“Come on, baby. Come for me, then. I want to see your face when your cum shoots from

the tip of your cock. I want to hear you scream my name when you fly, baby. Do it! Come for me

now!” Lucca roared.

And with that, Christian’s body tensed as streams of cum coated Lucca’s fist and covered

his boy’s stomach.

“Lucca! Oh, fuck, Lucca! Yes, God yes!”

Lucca continued to thrust, milking his boy’s cock for all it was worth, rocking his hips

one final time before he exploded, filling his boy’s ass with his seed as a primal scream ripped

from his throat.

Collapsing onto Christian’s cum and oil slicked body, both of them gasping for breath

and grasping for control, Lucca swept his lips over his boy’s collar. Finding a spot just above it,

he delivered a swift, pinching bite. One and only one thought dominated in his mind—Mine.

Epilogue

“Has he shared the diary with you yet?”

“Yes. Yes, he did, when we returned from the cabin. In fact, it was one of the first things

we did. He also told me about how he suffered; he held nothing back. We cried for days it

seemed, but he’s doing a lot better. We’ve been back for a month now, and he’s progressing

incredibly.

I also found out why we were having all those episodes back at the cabin. He’d been

overhearing my conversations with either you, or his parents, or mine. He heard me say, “I love

you,” or “I miss you,” out of context a couple of times and went out of his mind with jealousy.

We’re still working with that green bug, though. He’ll get it. Of course, I suffer from the same

ailment, but don’t tell him that.”

Carl laughed. “What does his therapist say?”

Lucca switched the phone to his other ear and looked at his dripping boy standing before

him. He looked to the mat that lay at the side of his lounge chair, then back at Christian, smiling

as Christian took the cue and knelt down.

“He thinks taking him to Italy could help. Since Evan has escaped from jail, there’s not a

lot we can do until he’s found and tried. I’m not too proud to admit I don’t sleep well knowing

the bastard’s running around loose.”

“I haven’t told Brent yet. He’s not doing as well as I had hoped. I believe we’ll be headed

to Italy in a couple of weeks too. Tony and Ryan are back there now; Tony said something about

Ryan needing tuned up. That boy there keeps Tony guessing, let me tell you. He tried locating

Evan…on his own.”

“Oh, good Lord, what did Ryan do?”

“He started setting up mock websites to lure Evan in, and was then going to meet the

prospective members of the all-inclusive, hardest-of-the-hardcore BDSM clubs. Ever.”

“Ever?”

“Ryan’s words, not mine. Torro is ready to rip the boy’s head off his shoulders. You can

imagine the others and what they’d like to do. I need to get back there to keep some sort of peace

among them. How are Nicholas and Paul doing?”

Lucca pulled his sunglasses down a bit and peeked over the rims at his soon to be fathers-

in-law. He smiled.

“They’re amazing. Nicholas has made a complete recovery, and is, at this very moment,

doing his best to dunk Paul in the pool. And that’s not working so well; Nicholas just slipped and

went under. They’re going to renew their vows when we head to Italy.

“I asked Christian.”

“And?”

“He’s wearing my ring.”

“Well, you old dog, congrats! How’s he taking to being your sub?”

Lucca reached out and laid his hand on top of Christian’s wet head and smiled. “He’s

come a long way and is at peace with himself. We’re working on how to engage the shut off

filter at times, but overall, he’s made amazing leaps. He’s going to finish his college courses in

Italy and wants to open a shelter for gay youth. We haven’t yet agreed on our final destination;

he wants to live in the White Mountains in Arizona, and I’m aiming for Europe.”

“You can’t hide him forever, Lucca.”

“I damn sure can. And I will or I’ll die trying. He’s mine to protect, and I mean to do it

well. Wherever we plan on residing, Nicholas and Paul will be coming along. Who knows, we

may all end up in Italy together yet.”

“Lucca, I know how you are; don’t let him top you from the bottom. That won’t fix him

or fulfill your needs. Remember that.”

“Oh, he’s tried several times, but I think it’s because he loves to have his pretty, white ass

spanked until it’s red and stinging.” Lucca laughed when Christian blushed and laid his head on

his Master’s knee to hide from him.

“Christian, go get everyone some tea, please.”

“Yes, Sir. With lemon?”

“Yes,” Lucca answered. “And don’t forget the sunscreen; your nose is getting red.”

“He’s accepted you.” Carl said.

“Fully. I am his as he is mine. He told me something the day he accepted me. I had it

engraved and framed for us.

“The road in life runs but two ways, but in the end, it always comes back to you.”