Resisting Double Trouble (North Bay Pursuits Book 8)

by Kenzi Bond

  Dean felt his gut turn with memories of their abduction—the helplessness he felt, the overwhelming fear. He felt the back of Beau’s hand touch his and concentrated on calming his breathing.

  “I would find something to use as a weapon and protect myself,” John-Henry said.

  “Interesting choice. Show of hands, who else decided on this plan of action?”

  Dean wasn’t surprised to see more than half the class raise their hands.

  Lincoln asked the others what they would do. The common theme was to yell for help.

  “Beau, what would you do?”

  Dean wanted to scream at Lincoln. Everyone knew what they had been through. How could he ask that question?

  “Run. I would run as fast as I could,” Beau said, the surety in his voice surprising Dean. “If someone is coming for you, you don’t give them the chance to catch you. Scream if you want, yell for help, but they could have weapons. There could be other assailants that you can’t see. You don’t know what you’re up against, so you run.”

  “Only a coward would run,” John-Henry muttered.

  Lincoln shook his head sadly. “John-Henry, you have so much potential, and then you go and open your mouth and your stupidity shows through like a beacon.”

  Lincoln addressed the whole class. “Beau is one hundred percent correct. Your first action is to run if you can. You get help. If you are caught, that is when you fight back, you kick, yell, and scream, but the logical thing to do is run away. It doesn’t make you a coward. Now, pair off. We are going to practice how to break free when someone grabs your wrist. Dean, I want you to pair with John-Henry. Beau, you can pair off with Gavin. He’s the one with the awesome red mohawk and enough piercings to set off a metal detector.”

  Dean bit his lip to hold back the protest. He faced John-Henry, noticing that he was quite attractive when he wasn’t glaring or talking crap. His thick, curly hair was styled on top and undercut on the sides. Compared to his own dead-straight hair, Dean envied John-Henry’s waves.

  “What are you looking at?” John-Henry demanded.

  “Well, I was admiring your hair. I always wanted curly hair like yours. I’m a little jealous,” Dean said with honesty.

  John-Henry looked startled. He opened his mouth, only to close it again. Finally, he gave a wide smile. “Dude, I’ve always wanted straight hair. Do you know how hard it is to get these curls to behave? Lots of product.” He held his hand out. “Sorry for before. I was acting like a dick, and I can’t explain my actions. Do you think we can we start again?”

  Dean took John-Henry’s hand in his. “Hello. Nice to meet you.” He felt hope unfurl in his chest. Could he have just made a friend?

  Lincoln skipped over. “Oh, it’s lovely to see you two being nice to each other. Does this old gal’s heart good. Such good choices,” Lincoln said, sounding like a soft-spoken Southern woman. He gracefully walked off to help another couple.

  “Yeah, if you hadn’t noticed, he’s a little off,” John-Henry said, watching Lincoln walk away. “Rumor has it, he got a head injury in the special forces. Others say he has dissociative identity disorder. As Gump says, you never know what you’re gonna get.”

  “And do you have a problem with that?” Dean asked.

  “Nah, he knows what he’s doing. It takes months to get into one of his classes, and my friends who have done it said it was the best thing they ever did. My dad, on the other hand, was not happy and demanded a different instructor. He didn’t realize that Lincoln was the only instructor.”

  Dean laughed. “From what I’ve seen so far, I doubt that got him anywhere.”

  John-Henry laughed, too. “You could say that. Man, I thought he was gonna blow a gasket when they told him it was Lincoln or leave. It was worth it to see him get put in his place for a change. Being a lawyer, he feels he has to win at everything in life.”

  Dean thought about what it would be like to live with someone like that. “That must be tough.”

  “You could say that. He’s difficult to please.” John-Henry started to laugh. “Oh my lord, imagine how crazy he’s going to be when he finds out I’ve been associating with the Xavier twins! It would be worth being friends just to see his reaction.”

  “Does that mean we’re friends?” Dean asked shyly.

  John-Henry stopped laughing. He looked Dean up and down with a smirk. “Yep, it sure does, Dean. I really am sorry for the way I was earlier. Sometimes, I hear myself speak and hear my father’s words come out. I hope we can move forward. I promise to be less of a dick.”

  “Stop yapping and get to work,” Lincoln yelled from across the room.

  Dean looked over to his brother and noticed that he was getting along with Gavin. Maybe they could be friends also.

  17

  Beau & Dean Twenty

  Beau

  B

  eau looked at himself in the full-length mirror, pleased with the overall results. The Loki costume he was wearing enhanced his slim frame while showing off his toned muscles. He would never be as buff as Thor, but he looked good. He had left his long hair down, happy in his decision to let it grow again. He tried to look over his shoulder to see how the coat fell but couldn’t see the full effect.

  “Wow, you look fantastic. It’s not fair that you got to be Loki. I swear you cheated on the coin toss,” Dean said, walking into the room. He was dressed as Hawkeye, with a replica bow and arrows strapped to his back. Beau thought he looked badass, but he agreed Loki was the better character.

  Dean looked down at himself. “It’s not that I don’t like this outfit, it’s just I can’t stand the actor. I’ve seen him in a few interviews, and he comes across as a pig.”

  “We’ve been over this. You are the character, not the actor. You turned down Captain Jack, Jared Leto’s version of the Joker, the Winter Soldier, and Castlevania’s Richter Belmont. We agreed to go as different characters, so suck it up, princess.”

  Dean notched an arrow in the bow and aimed it at his brother. “Say that again and you’ll have holes in your pretty outfit. Get over here and help me with my hair.”

  Since Hawkeye had short hair, they decided that Beau would braid Dean’s hair and tuck it inside his shirt. Dean sat cross-legged on the bed and handed him the brush.

  Running his hands through the silky strands of his brother’s hair, he let his mind wander to the party ahead. This was their first real party they had been invited to. Through their charity, they had hosted balls and attended huge-scale events, but this was a first—a party thrown by people their own age.

  Dean twisted so he could look over his shoulder. “Do you think we should send pictures to Malcolm and Drake?”

  When they had finally logged into their email account, they had found dozens of emails from the men. Since then, they communicated nearly every day again. Over time, they had grown even closer. It was hard to not dream of having a relationship with Malcolm, but Beau knew that Malcolm didn’t think of him like that. Not once had he mentioned wanting something more from him. Beau would take the friendship and treasure it.

  The boys had been apprehensive to go to the party. Beau recalled that Malcolm had told them to experience life. Besides, they both needed to open themselves up to the idea of someone other than Drake and Malcolm being in their lives.

  “We’ll take some at the party and send them through tomorrow. Did John-Henry say who else was going to be there tonight? Is Gavin going?” Dean asked.

  Beau pushed his head back around to face forward. “Stay still, I’m almost done. I don’t know if Gavin will be there or not. John-Henry didn’t say who was going. You know as much as I do.”

  He had been looking forward to the party for weeks. John-Henry had become a good friend, even with his father’s objections. He had turned out to be a decent guy underneath all the macho façade. Finishing off the braid, Beau tied it off. “There, all done. I’ve arranged for an Uber to pick us up downstairs. Can you imagine the teasing we’d get if we turned up in t
he limo?” he laughed.

  “You know Dad and Papa are waiting outside to take pictures,” Dean said, standing and adjusting his costume.

  Beau chuckled. “Yeah, I don’t know who’s more excited. Papa or Dad. Did they take you aside and give you the talk about safety?”

  “That was so embarrassing. They do know we aren’t kids, don’t they?” Beau loved his parents deeply, but they were overprotective. It had only gotten worse after their abduction. At least they had agreed to let them go to the party without a security detail. “Let’s get it over with.”

  Papa was waiting near the foyer, phone in hand. He smiled when he saw them. “Memories,” he said, holding up the phone to take pictures.

  Beau smiled at his brother. “Always with the memories,” he said, thinking of all the images taken over the years.

  “Lucas, honey, go stand between them,” Jackson encouraged.

  Lucas gave Jackson an indulgent smile and did as asked. Dean and Beau made room for their father to step beside them and pose for the photo.

  Fifteen minutes and a dozen photos later, they were finally on their way.

  ♦♦♦

  “Wow, you guys look fantastic,” John-Henry said, taking in their costumes.

  Dressed as the short-haired version of Thor, John-Henry looked terrific. The character suited his larger build and broad shoulders. Beau imagined he would attract a lot of female attention. Especially with the light hair covering the impressive chest on display. He had always liked chest hair on a man. He wondered if Malcolm had chest hair. He felt lust tighten in his gut and work its way down his body at the thought. It felt like he was always horny these days. Especially when thinking of Malcolm.

  “Guess we’re brothers for the night. I promise to be on my best behavior,” Beau joked. He looked around the room and noticed Gavin chatting up a girl with green-painted skin. Taking in her costume, he guessed she was dressed as Gamora from Guardians of the Galaxy, but aside from the green skin, she hadn’t done anything in the way of costume. Gavin, on the other hand, had gone all out. His bright red hair was spiked up into sharp points that defied gravity. Dressed in an orange vest and pants that were paired with blue boots, belt, and wrist cuffs, he stood out from the people around him who were dressed in dark colors.

  “Is he Goku from Dragon Ball Z?” Dean asked.

  “Yeah! How’d you know?” John-Henry asked. “He had to tell me who he was, and even then, I was clueless. I’m not much of a DBZ fan, to tell the truth.”

  “Beau and I used to watch it all the time. We love anime. Our top five are Castlevania, Bleach, Cowboy Bebop, Death Note, and Black Butler,” Dean said.

  “Don’t forget Devilman Crybaby,” Beau added with a grin.

  Dean rolled his eyes. “Okay, make that six.”

  John-Henry laughed. “If I wanted to watch one to get started, which would you recommend?” he asked.

  “Cowboy Bebop,” they said at the same time.

  “I’ll do that. Anyway, don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing. Stop stalling; it’s time to mingle. Drinks are through there,” he said, pointing to the living room where a makeshift bar had been set up. “Bathrooms are down the hall to the left. And if you go through there,” he said, pointing to wide double doors, “I’ve hired a DJ and closed off the patio as a dance floor. What do you want to do first?”

  Beau looked at Dean, who smiled with excitement. They both loved to dance but had never had the opportunity to dance with anyone except each other. It wasn’t a nightclub, but it was the next best thing.

  “Dancing!” they both shouted.

  Eagerly, they headed toward the doors. Beau was surprised to find himself in a large, covered patio full of people dancing. The overhead lights were off; however, someone had taken the time to hang up strobe lights. Beau could feel the beat of the music in his chest as it blasted from the speakers. He watched the guests dance with varying degrees of skill. A grin spread across his face. This was the reason he came—he wanted to let go and do something totally normal.

  Dean nudged his shoulder, drawing his attention toward the left side of the area, where two guys were checking them out. The taller of the two beckoned them to come dance with a sexy smile and wave of the hand. They were both similar in looks—fair-haired with bronzed skin. Faking confidence, Beau walked over and met the guys on the dance floor.

  “Hi, I’m Glen, and this is my brother, Anthony. Love your outfits,” Glen yelled over the music as he looked Beau over. “Let’s dance,” he said, reaching for Beau’s hand.

  Almost vibrating with excitement, Beau took the outstretched hand, smiling shyly.

  Anthony took Dean’s hand, and the four of them made their way into the heart of the dancing crowd.

  Beau ignored the feeling that he was betraying Malcolm in some way. Malcolm was a friend only, and Beau needed to get that through his head. Beau didn’t know how long he danced with Glen. He felt his body relax and begin to flow with the music. He felt so alive. Glen was a good dancer, moving in a sensual way that had Beau’s eyes roaming over his body. Glen took every opportunity to touch him—a hand on his shoulder, a feathered touch down the arm. Each move brought Beau closer and closer to Glen’s warm body. His skin tingled with each caress. At some point, Glen had undone the buttons of his shirt, and Beau wished he dared to run his fingers over the chest. As if reading his thoughts, Glen reached for Beau’s hand and brought it to his waist.

  “It’s all yours, beautiful. Don’t hold back.”

  Beau started to explore the sweat-dampened skin. His eyes locked on Glen’s face. Instinctively, he wet his lips and leaned in. Their lips touched, and Beau had to force himself to relax. He let his mind wander. He’d had a few kisses when he had been on dates. They had all been nice, but he always thought about Malcolm. Like all the other times, kissing someone else felt wrong on so many levels. When the kiss broke, he blinked at Glen. For a split second, there was a look in Glen’s eyes that set off a mental alarm. He couldn’t say what it was, but then Glen kissed him again. Beau pushed thoughts of Malcolm out of his mind. He let himself relax into the kiss. Telling himself he wasn’t doing anything wrong, he focused on the feeling of Glen’s lips against his.

  They continued to dance and share gentle kisses. Eyes closed, Beau pushed away the feeling of wrongness. Finally, he felt his body start to respond with a spark of lust. Swaying, he felt Glen release his hand and step back. He opened his eyes and watched as Glen and Anthony swapped places. Before he could understand what was happening, Anthony tried to kiss him. The kiss was more aggressive than Glen’s. Beau pulled back, breaking away. In alarm, he looked for Glen, wanting to explain that he hadn’t asked Anthony to kiss him. His stomach dropped when he saw Dean struggling against Glen, who was attempting to kiss him. He pulled away and hurried to Beau.

  “What the hell? Leave my brother alone,” Beau warned, reaching for Dean’s hand.

  Glen rolled his eyes. “Don’t be like that. Everyone knows you two are a package deal, and we’re cool with that. Although, I must admit I expected you both to be more experienced. You both kiss like newbies.”

  As Beau tried to process what Glen had just said, Glen and Anthony reached for them at the same time. A hand roughly grabbed the back of Beau’s head and forced his face toward Dean when realization hit—they wanted to see Beau and Dean kiss.

  “Come on, don’t be a tease. Show us how hot you are together,” Anthony said, loud enough so the people around them stopped and stared.

  A memory flashed in his mind of a time years ago, standing on stage as men cheered and yelled for something similar. He froze, torn between humiliation and anger. He focused on Dean’s face and his tears of helplessness and shame. The rage built. He saw red, and the next thing he knew, his fist collided with Glen’s nose, the crunch of bone and flow of blood leaving him satisfied.

  He turned to Dean, who had shoved Anthony away from him.

  At first, Beau thought the flashing was the strobe lightin
g, but with sickening dread, he realized the people around them had their phones out and were recording everything. Some were laughing, and worse, others were giving them looks of pity. Refusing to let them see how much he was hurting, he gripped Dean’s hand tighter.

  Wearing a mask of boredom, he spoke. “I’m done for the night. Do you want to leave?” he asked Dean.

  Only someone who really knew him would be able to see the pain and anguish he was hiding. Beau could close off everything he was feeling far easier than Dean could. Looking lost, Dean nodded.

  “Hey, asshole, where do you think you’re going? I’m going to sue you for everything you own,” Glen screamed. He reached for Beau’s arm, gripping the sleeve tightly.

  Beau yanked on the shirt, pulling from Glen’s grip. He ignored the cameras that continued to flash. “Leave us alone.”

  Holding tight to Dean’s hand, they walked back the way they had come. “Should we find John-Henry?” he asked.

  Looking around at the mass of people who had followed them from the dance floor, Dean shook his head. “I just want to go home. I’ll call for an Uber to come get us. We can text John-Henry later to explain. I want to go home, please.”

  Beau totally understood. It was all too much—all they wanted was to feel normal. They had looked forward to this night for so long. Was it silly to want to be appreciated for who they were, rather than who people thought they were? Seeing Dean’s misery, he reached for his brother, offering comfort.

  “Yeah, that’s more like it,” Anthony sneered. “Everyone get a look at the Xavier lovers. Oh sorry, brothers,” he taunted.

  Beau rested his forehead against Dean’s. “Don’t listen to them, Dean. They don’t matter. It’s you and me. I’m here, I’ll always be here.”