by D. J. Manly
Suffering Jordon
Book Three of the Amusing Amanda Series
DJ Manly
Published 2007
ISBN 1-59578-291-5
Published by Liquid Silver Books, imprint of Atlantic Bridge Publishing, 10509 Sedgegrass Dr, Indianapolis, Indiana 46235. Copyright © 2007, DJ Manly. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.
Manufactured in the United States of America
Liquid Silver Books
http://LSbooks.com
Email:
[email protected]
Editor
Moira Stanton
Cover Artist
April Martinez
This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.
Chapter One
Amanda had paid for Cassidy’s funeral, and his burial. He was laid to rest in Forest Lawn Hollywood Hills Memorial Park. His stone was in the shape of an angel and the epitaph read, “Beloved by Amanda and Chase. To our dear young friend.” Chase went to the cemetery every Sunday, and as the months went on and summer came, he continued to go.
Amanda brought a multitude of men to the house. Chase went through the motions, satisfying every little fetish Amanda had. She seemed happy. Chase became resigned to living this way, not feeling anything, and feeling everything. He read, he swam, he took walks, he went to the cemetery, and he amused Amanda. Life was pretty routine, or at least it was, until he arrived.
He arrived on a Sunday. Chase had just returned from the cemetery, his mind wrapped in the past. He walked outside on the patio, preoccupied, looking for Amanda. He wanted to tell her that the new flowers she had ordered to be put on Cassidy’s grave were beautiful. When he got outside, he realized she wasn’t alone. There was a man sitting opposite her at the patio table. The man stopped talking when Chase appeared, and looked up at him. For some unknown reason, Chase’s heart skipped a beat. It took him by surprise.
The stranger was possibly one of the sexiest men he’d seen in a long time. He looked to be in his late twenties. Dark blond hair, streaked by the sun, fell across his forehead, drawing attention to large blue eyes. The planes of his face were angled, exotic, and the mouth was sensuous, exceptional. He was wearing a pair of jeans and a red t-shirt and looked like he needed a bit of a haircut. His hair fell on his broad shoulders, somewhat unruly, and he had the faintest shadow of a beard on his jaw.
It was obvious that Amanda had been in deep conversation with this man, and that Chase was interrupting. The man gave Chase a cold stare.
“Chase, this is Jordon, my half brother.” Amanda emphasized the word half, as if it were important to her. “Jordon, Chase.”
“Ah, what happened to the last one?” Jordon murmured, his voice deep and silky smooth. “Scott, wasn’t it?” Jordon stood up.
He was as tall as Chase, broad shouldered, muscular. “Another boy toy, Amanda? I thought you’d outgrown all that.” He swept Chase with his eyes, then, dismissed him by turning back to his sister. “Well, I’ll just go up to my room. We can continue this discussion later. I’ll let you talk with your…eh…staff,” he said, brushing past Chase and disappearing inside.
“Chase, I’m sorry,” Amanda said immediately, her lips tight. “Please forgive Jordon. He is not known for his good manners.”
“You’re telling me,” Chase said. What a rude fuck! “I didn’t know you had a brother.”
“My father remarried. He deserted my mother for some young princess. I went to live with my mother after Dad made a fool of himself with that woman. We’re fourteen years apart, not very close. The only thing we seem to have in common is the same father.”
“Is your mother dead?” Chase said, taking a seat. It was the first time Amanda had ever told him anything about herself.
“Died a few years ago,” Amanda said. “She was a cold, emotionless woman. I almost forgave Daddy for cheating on her.” She sighed. “At least I would have forgiven him if he hadn’t forgotten he had a daughter after his precious boy was born. My Father…” She stopped suddenly, giving Chase a brittle smile. “I do go on and on.”
“It’s okay. We all need to from time to time,” Chase replied. “So, if you’re not close, what’s he doing here, your brother?”
“Well,” Amanda sighed, taking a sip of her rum drink, “our father just died and we have to…”
“Amanda, I’m sorry,” Chase gasped, reaching over and taking her hand. It was amazing how much Amanda had come to mean to him, especially after Cassidy.
She laughed, squeezing his hand, then releasing it. “Oh, no worries, I reconciled what he was to me long ago. About the time he decided I no longer existed. In actuality, he did me a favor; my father was a pig.”
Chase sat back in his seat.
“He had more money than was good for him, really. Exactly like me,” she laughed. “This house belonged to him. I tried several times to buy it but he said it belonged to his ’kids,’ meaning me and Jordon…as if I’d ever live here with Jordon!”
“I thought this house belonged to your husband,” Chase said.
Amanda shook her head. “No.” She stared into space for a beat. “I had my choice of my husband’s houses to live in, but … there was always something about this house that made me feel sentimental. My father felt the same way, apparently. It was the original Nash family home.”
“Nash, is that your last name?” Chase grinned. “It’s the first time I’ve heard it. You go by your married name. Will you move out now?”
“The married name has more currency in these parts. I’m negotiating to buy the house from Jordon,” she said stiffly. “He’s being a pig about it. He’s so like his father.”
“Does he attach sentimental value to the place as well?” Chase asked.
“Jordon, attach sentimental value…?” She snorted. “Ha, he wouldn’t know sentiment if he got run over by it. He’s being stubborn and mean, that’s all.”
“Will you be going to the funeral?”
“No funeral. My father wasn’t much for public displays. He was cremated yesterday. Jordon and I will fly to New York tonight for a family thing. Oh God, I shudder at the thought of it. Want to come with us?”
Chase froze. “Me? No. I have no business there, Amanda. I’d feel out of place.”
She shrugged. “It would ease the boredom. No matter, I refuse to spend one more second in that horrible city than I have to. I hate New York. We’ll be back soon anyway. The thing is tomorrow and so I hope we’ll be able to catch a late flight back tomorrow night.” Her face had a pained expression on it.
“We?” Chase echoed warily.
“Yes,” Amanda smiled tightly. “It seems my brother has decided that he wants to spend some time here at the good old Nash house. He’ll be sticking around for awhile.”
* * * *
It was a little after ten o’clock. The staff had cleaned up and left. Chase wandered around the big empty house for awhile, finally finding a bottle of Amanda’s finest gin. Taking it with him out to the pool side, he screwed off the cap and took a few swallows.
Amanda and her brother had left a few hours ago. It was the first time he’d been alone here since Cassidy had been shot. The loneliness was stifling. He lay back on the lounge chair and took another gulp of the gin. It went down hard, burning his throat. He’d never been much of a drinker. He wiped the back of his mouth with his hand. So much had happened to him in the last six months. Just when
he thought his life was getting better, it went ahead and got worse.
When he’d come here with Cassidy, he’d agreed to amuse Amanda. In his mind, it had been a temporary arrangement. He had naively worked everything out in his mind. He would stay until he finished the last few courses he had to complete to get his counseling degree, and then finally start his life. A new job, and maybe even a new love…at that time, he still believed that there was someone out there waiting for him.
He’d had a pretty good childhood until his mother remarried when he was an adolescent. In the beginning, Fred Anderson had been really cool. He was a trainer for boxers and he took Chase to the gym and taught him to box. Chase loved it. He loved working with the boxers too, and everything was good until his stepfather starting coming on to him. He’d left home after the situation became unbearable and was saved from life on the streets by the Agency, an upscale prostitution outfit. He started to service exclusive, rich clients, many of them older men, and at the same time he took some courses at the college and dreamed of getting out.
Amanda had been a surprise. She’d called the Agency looking for two men fitting a certain description and he’d been sent here with Cassidy, a younger guy, who was a little rough around the edges. All he was expected to do was have sex with Cassidy in front of Amanda. It didn’t seem a lot to ask, especially since he got to live in a great house, eat great food, and finish his counseling degree.
Chase sighed, taking another swallow of the gin. He was trying to understand how he was managing to make it through each day, but he was. Every night, he woke up in a cold sweat, a gunshot ringing in his ears. Cassidy.
Cassidy was dead, the victim of his addict boyfriend.
Chase stood up now, clutching the bottle in his hand. He went over to stare down into the pool. Amanda had wanted him to stay. She didn’t want to be alone, and at one point, she professed to love him. Of course he’d had no intention of staying with her. He wanted his own life, but now he realized how much he’d come to depend on her these last few months.
He was earning his keep again, amusing Amanda with a variety of men. He wished he could stop seeing Cassidy’s face each time one of them touched him. Damn. It wasn’t that he loved Cassidy. It was that he never got the chance to find out. Toward the end, there had been a whisper of something more; more than raw sex, a caring that had been deepening. Now all that was left was the wondering, and the image of Cassidy taking a bullet trying to protect him. And he had been helpless to do anything … it all happened so quickly.
Cassidy lay dead in that park, and all Chase could do was shake. He went into shock; the stricken cries of Jude, Cassidy’s ex-lover, went right through him. When the police arrived, Jude was still on his knees sobbing; the gun in his hand, and Chase was still standing there, frozen. He couldn’t feel anything.
After the questioning and the identification of the body, he came back to Amanda. He didn’t know where else to go. He couldn’t eat. He couldn’t sleep, and he dropped out of school. Nothing. There was nothing left. Nothing mattered. It was as if when that bullet cut through Cassidy, ending his life, it took all of Chase’s ability to feel emotion with it. He felt dead inside.
Amanda held him, talked to him, stayed near him, and he told her he’d stay. After awhile, he went back to the routine of being her sexual playmate when she demanded it. It was not perfect, but it was a life…it was all the life he could manage right now. It helped fill the black hole of emptiness and aloneness that threatened to engulf him. Now, he had come.
Obviously Amanda’s half brother, Jordon didn’t approve of Amanda’s lifestyle, and Chase knew that Amanda could care less. However, since half the house belonged to Jordon, he had the right to live there. It was going to be uncomfortable. There was a story there between Amanda and her brother, a story of pain, and bitterness. Chase couldn’t help wondering how Jordon’s presence here would affect him. He couldn’t bear moving on right now. He couldn’t bear being alone. The same thoughts kept hammering away in his head … if he’d only come home from school that day on time; maybe he could have stopped Cassidy from leaving with Jude. If Cassidy hadn’t grabbed the gun and turned it away from him, he’d be dead right now, not Cassidy. Cassidy had sacrificed his life for him. A part of him was grateful to be alive, another part was filled with self loathing, despair that Cassidy’s life had been snuffed out in a wink of an eye, while he was left standing.
The liquor went down faster now. God, he needed to be drunk. He needed to stop feeling so much. Anytime the emotions started to surface, he felt the overwhelming drive to douse them in alcohol. By no means an original response, but effective so far.
After awhile, Chase wandered upstairs. He stopped in front of what once was Cassidy’s room. Pushing open the door, he stepped in. He took a look at himself in the mirror…tall, wavy black hair, now down to his shoulders, big blue eyes that looked haunted. He was muscular, probably leaner than he had been a few months ago and there were black circles under his eyes from lack of sleep. He wished that Amanda had been around tonight. He wished that some new fuck mate was here as well. He was in the mood to do some mindless fucking. He closed his eyes. Good and drunk now, he wandered over to the bed. He stripped off his t-shirt and threw it on the floor. Curling up on the bed with what was left of the gin bottle, he closed his eyes. Cassidy. I’m sorry. He felt himself drift off into a mindless sleep hoping that there was no gunshot in his dreams to wake him.
* * * *
“What in fuck are you doing in my bed?” The words pierced through his brain like a sledgehammer. Chase moaned and blinked open his eyes. He ran his hand over his naked chest and then down to his pants. They were open and soaking wet. It didn’t register who was in the room with him until he rolled over on an empty gin bottle and managed to swing his legs over the side of the bed.
The voice rang out again, its tone ice cold. “I repeat, what in the fuck are you doing in my bed?”
Chase blinked up into the face of Jordon Nash. “Who in the hell made it your bed?” He growled, clearing his throat and running a shaky hand through his ruffled hair. His mind was foggy.
Jordon Nash narrowed his eyes. They were goddamned incredible eyes. He wasn’t so fucked up that he didn’t notice that. And right now, those incredibly sexy blue eyes were furious. Jordon Nash went to say something, but Chase raised his up his hand and stood up. “Don’t. Okay … okay. I apologize if you were sleeping here. I wandered in here last night and conked out.”
“I see that, you and a bottle of gin,” Jordon Nash sneered. “Just don’t get the idea to wander in here again at night. I’m back now and I intend on using this room.”
Chase met his eyes. A smile played around his lips. “No worries. I don’t usually go where I’m not invited. Your virtue is safe with me.” Chase reached down and picked up his t-shirt off the floor.
Jordon walked over and picked the empty gin bottle off the bed. He ran a hand over the sheets. “Wet, and my bed smells like a brewery.”
Chase leaned close to him for a minute. “I’ll buy you a new bed.”
Jordon shoved him away. “Phew,” he made a face. “The bed’s not the only thing that stinks.”
“I said I’d buy you a new bed, okay,” Chase growled, getting irritated. He had a headache and this guy was truly getting on his nerves. So, he’d fallen asleep in this bed. So he’d spilled some gin! Hell, it was the first good night’s sleep he’d had in a month. Fuck him.
“You mean Amanda will buy a new bed,” Jordon threw back at him as Chase stumbled toward the door.
“I have money,” Chase spoke tersely.
“You have my sister’s money,” Jordon corrected.
“I earn that money!”
“You suck cock for that money,” Jordon met his eyes.
“Yeah, well that’s true enough,” Chase snapped. “And I’m good at it too. Got a few bucks to spare?”
Jordon rolled his eyes. “Get out of my room.”
“It’s your loss…
who knows, might improve your disposition,” Chase threw over his shoulder before leaving the room.
* * * *
A few minutes later, Chase was back in his own room and in the shower. He stayed there for a long time, letting the warm water revive him. Finally, his brain seemed to clear, and he tried to remember what nonsense he’d just said to Amanda’s brother. Shit.
He was positive that he’d been rude as hell. That’s not how he wanted it to be. He should be making an honest attempt to get along with the guy, not pissing him off, even if so far he’d proven to be a royal pain in the ass. He would have to find some way to apologize.
When he finally went downstairs, it was almost three in the afternoon. Thankfully, Amanda was alone in the living room when he walked in.
“Chase,” she said, smiling, looking happy to see him. She walked over and hugged him briefly. “Care for a drink?”
Chase held up his hand. “I don’t think so.”
“Had enough last night, did you?” There was a little grin on her face.
“So, he told you, did he?”
“Um, in so many words, words I don’t think I should repeat.”
Chase sat down on one of the leather sofas. “I think I said some nasty shit to him.”
Amanda laughed. “Don’t worry about it. He’s a big boy. He can take it, and I’m sure he said some nasty shit back.”
“I don’t want him to insist that I leave here. I don’t think I could do that right now.” His hands were shaking. The words coming out of his mouth making him feel like a fool.
“You’re not going anywhere,” Amanda said firmly. “He can’t make those decisions for me. Don’t worry, hon.” She took a seat beside him and patted his thigh.
Chase nodded, remaining quiet, after a few moments he said, “How did everything go at your Dad’s…” He let the words trail off not sure how to describe the event.
She shrugged. “It was long and drawn out. We were surrounded by a bunch of people who didn’t want to be there. Daddy wasn’t well loved. My step mother was being her usual charming self, and was tanked an hour after we arrived. Jordon and I went to the reading of the will, along with Jordon’s mother later in the day…after we’d sobered her ass up.”
