by J. M. Dabney
He couldn’t keep the words back, and he didn’t even try to stop himself, “Daddy, I love you.”
Livingston’s strong arms tightened around him to the point he could barely pull oxygen into his lungs. The big man shuddered under him as Livingston buried his face against his throat. He felt the big man’s lips move and fantasized that Livingston had said the words too. He lifted his head to find the tent flaps closed and everything quiet except for the nighttime wilderness sounds and the crackling of the fire.
Twenty
The Crew was Going to Hand Him His Ass
It had been a week, they’d gotten into a routine, and it was kind of nice out there. He’d spent weeks out there with Horace and Freddie, so the men had become friends over the years. Their first night beside the fire hadn’t been mentioned, and it had been a one-time-only thing. He knew the isolation his friends felt, and he’d wanted to give them something—hope that they wouldn’t always be alone.
His friends were like him, scarred by life and mired in nightmares they couldn’t fight against. They’d never shared their stories, and he only assumed based on the scars covering the two men.
He’d talked to Fielding about what happened, and his boy understood without having him explain it. No way would he allow someone else to touch Fielding while the boy belonged to him. He wasn’t above showing off his boy. Horace and Freddie wouldn’t take it any farther than some voyeurism.
His friends weren’t his biggest problem. His Crew was going to kick his ass. He’d cut off all contact with them when they’d boarded the helicopter. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust his team. They were the only men he’d trusted in his life, but he couldn’t guarantee that the stalker didn’t have surveillance set up.
After the fucker’s stunt at the hospital, the stalker had to know they were onto them. Which meant Fielding’s stalker was on the run and hiding out wasn’t helping them all that much. He glanced toward the cabin where Fielding was helping Horace and Freddie. He bent over, dragged his pack from the tent, and dug out the satellite phone.
He called Linus and hoped the man picked up.
“About fucking time you checked in, where the fuck are you?”
“I went camping.”
“I thought you were fucking joking, man. You took your boy out there, are you fucking insane?”
He pulled the phone from his ear and then rolled his eyes. He knew the reaction he was going to get. That’s why he didn’t mention where he’d planned to go.
“It’s perfectly safe.”
“Ain’t anything safe about them.”
“I didn’t call to get bitched out, what’s the situation?”
He turned the camp chair around and sat down to watch Fielding. His boy was smiling, and he was shocked to find that his friends looked almost happy. Horace and Freddie were even joking around. Maybe he’d get his friends to town one of these days.
“As you probably know, the stalker is on the move. Name’s Nigel Rauch, twenty-five, no criminal history, only living relative is a mother who lives in Savannah. But the really interesting thing is Rauch is a former child actor. Washed up at seventeen. Little did some digging and found some buried rumors that Rauch had an unnatural obsession with a few of the actors he worked with.”
“Any confirmation?”
“Not that we can find. Family has old money, and my gut says they had enough to make the problems disappear.”
“Are we going to let that stop us?”
“You should know me better than that. Shit, we’ve gone up against richer and more dangerous targets without backing down. But with him going underground now that we know who he is, we need to give him something to come out of hiding for.”
“I know, I don’t want to use my—Fielding for bait.”
He needed to stop referring to Fielding as his because that wasn’t the case. Closing his eyes, he took in the happy and musical sound of Fielding’s laughter. He was going to miss that and Fielding’s warmth, the way the young man didn’t treat or look at him like a monster.
When he’d had his first crush in his teens, he’d fantasized about having a boyfriend—someone only his—and it hurt because he knew it wasn’t going to happen. He’d dreamed over the years of not having the scars. That he was normal.
“Liv, are you okay?”
“I’m fine, man, just got shit on my mind, you know?”
“Yeah, I know, but—we’ve been friends for years, and I’ll always have your back. But as a friend, I have to say you need to start putting some distance between you and Fielding. You might be acting all big and bad now, but you’re going to get hurt, man. This is too close to what you’ve always wanted.”
“I know that, but I just can’t seem to stop. He’s so beautiful.”
Fielding’s I love you repeatedly played in his mind. Someone loved him for the first time in his life, and he wanted to hold on tight. But what the fuck did he know about love? He’d never experienced it in his life. Fielding was his first real kiss. Others had drunkenly done it in the past, but as soon as they felt the scars, they jerked away.
“Then keep him.”
“I can’t do that either.”
“You know we’re there for you no matter what, but I really wish you’d consider giving something a go between you two. Do you even see how your boy looks at you?”
“How does he look at me?”
“Like you’re the best fucking thing to ever happen to him. Like I see Wren and Hunter looking at me, or them at each other. We don’t get many chances in life, Liv, just think about it.”
“I will.”
“When are you headed back to town?”
“I think we’ll head back tomorrow. Fielding is kinda liking it out here, so I thought I’d let him play with the guys a day longer.”
“Play, huh? Didn’t take you for a sharer, my friend.”
“I’m not, but you know Horace and Freddie don’t get many visitors. They’re turning uncivilized.”
“When haven’t those two been animals?”
“True, I’ll give you a call when we hit the Powers town limit.”
“Come to the office, and we’ll work on the next stage of the plan.”
“Deal.”
He disconnected the call.
“We’re keeping him, Liv,” Freddie yelled and threw Fielding over his shoulder taking off with him into the woods.
He snorted. “Horace, is he bringing my boy back?”
“Maybe after he gets him naked and into the lake.”
Shit, he surged to his feet and took off after Fielding and Freddie. All he saw was Fielding hanging onto Freddie’s plaid shirt in a death grip as the insane man laughed his ass off. He truly needed to get these boys out of the woods. He caught up with them just as the trees broke and Freddie was splashing into the water.
Fielding squealed as he was submerged in the cold water and his boy was cussing, pounding on Freddie’s back as they came back up for air.
“Ain’t seen Freddie that happy in years, man.”
“He’s mine.”
“We know that. We don’t poach, but Freddie pretends something fierce about being happy out here.”
“Why don’t y’all come back to town?”
“Too many people. Chaos. Noise. We do okay out here.”
“You two can do better than okay.”
“We know that too, but—”
“It isn’t my business.”
Freddie and Fielding splashed around, laughing, and he thought it was nice that he could give his friends a little something to get them through the bad times. He knew memories of Fielding would do that for him in the years to come.
“We’ve done a lot of bad shit over the years, before we even knew something was wrong with it. It wasn’t a bad foster home, our foster mom was kinda cool, but when she hooked up with that old man of hers. It was hell, we just, we’re broken, Liv, ain’t nothing redeemable about us.”
“You have seen the Crews hook up over the
years, several of them didn’t think they were redeemable either.”
“Yeah, you know we kinda hang back, don’t try to make waves, but we see a lot. If you don’t keep that boy, you’re a fucking moron.”
“I won’t deny that, but do I want to shackle that beautiful and carefree boy to me for the rest of his life?”
“You so fucking do. You going to let them play a little longer?”
“Like you said, Freddie ain’t been happy, let him have his fun.”
“Thanks, man, my best friend needs more than my cranky ass to keep him company.”
Horace gave him a hard slap on the back and then shoved his hands in his pockets.
Later he’d ask about the Rauch guy and what Fielding knew about him—especially find out why the guy would have a thing for Fielding.
He stood back as he watched Horace walk to the water’s edge. He saw too much of himself in Horace and Freddie—the two men reminded him of how empty his life was. At the end of the day, all he had was land and a job he loved, one that could get him killed every day. Before Fielding, all he’d thought about was dying, and he’d done it so long he’d never learned how to live.
Twenty-One
Fielding Would be His Finally
He adjusted his black wig over his dark brown hair; he’d thrown the long blond one out after the incident at the hospital. The heat had died down, and he’d caught sight of Fielding and Livingston entering Trenton Security the day before. He was growing impatient. Nothing about his plan was working the way it should have. It was supposed to be so simple.
They were mindless brutes. Ugly and uncivilized, and they were outsmarting him, and he couldn’t allow that to continue. He’d switched out his clothes for more masculine and less androgynous, threw away his makeup and prosthetics. Years in the entertainment industry had its perks. He could make himself look like anyone he wanted, and even his mother wouldn’t recognize him. He’d tested out his skills on her several times.
He’d scrubbed himself down with bleach the other night he’d come back to the motel from Brawlers. Little was the weakest target, and he’d used it to his advantage. A bit of attention and flattery, the man couldn’t keep it in his pants. It had disgusted him to have that man’s hands on him, but he’d established contact, and that’s what he needed. He’d walk right into Trenton Security and walk out with Fielding.
The syringe was hidden in his jacket pocket, not enough to incapacitate but enough to make the man compliant. He checked both ways before he jogged across the street. Opening the door, he stepped inside. An empty reception desk filled the small waiting room.
“Hello, how can I help you?”
He turned to find the woman named Peaches standing there. He’d done his research, and she was as abhorrent as the rest of them.
“Yes, ma’am, I’m Nathan, I met Little at Brawlers the other night. He told me I should come by and see him sometime.”
“My boys do have great taste. He’s in a meeting, but I’ll take you to the break room. Do you have time to wait?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Stop with the ma’am bullshit, call me Peaches. Please, come with me. I’ll drop you off and head to the meeting myself. We shouldn’t be too long.”
“That’s great, Peaches, thank you.”
He watched as Peaches waved a card over a reader on a panel next to the elevator. That might be an issue if he needed one to get out. He strode to the elevator, stepped inside, and kept himself calm. It was almost over. He’d found the perfect place to hide Fielding until he could take him home.
“I think Fielding is in the break room. I’m sure he can keep you company.”
He tried not to appear too excited. The last time he’d seen Fielding up close was two years ago. They’d been at the same party. Their eyes met across the room, and Fielding had smiled, he’d seen the interest. Fielding wanted to be his and Fielding didn’t need to hide it anymore.
They stepped off the elevator, and he followed her down an empty hall.
“Fielding, would you please keep a friend of Little’s company until the meeting is over?”
“Of course, I’ve gotten a little bored waiting for Daddy to finish.”
He felt his nose curl up, but made his features relax.
“Be a good boy, and he’ll be done soon, then you two can go home. This is Nathan.”
“Nice to meet you, Nathan.”
He didn’t see any recognition in Fielding’s eyes, and he clenched his fists in his pockets. He didn’t want Fielding to figure out too soon what was happening.
“You, too, Fielding. I might go out for a smoke, so do I need a card key to get out? I saw you swiped one to get into the elevator.”
“No, just pick up the phone behind the reception desk and punch in twelve. Fielding can buzz you back upstairs.”
“That’s great, thank you.”
“You two have fun, we should be done in about an hour.”
He pivoted on his toes to watch Peaches until she disappeared.
“So, your dad works here?” He glanced back over his shoulder as he asked.
Fielding’s cheeks were pink with embarrassment.
“Um, did you want something to drink?”
“That would be great.”
He walked across the room, waited for Fielding to turn to the fridge and open it. He pulled out the needle and removed the cap, Fielding straightened, and he struck. He wrapped his arm around Fielding as he plunged the sharp point into the side of Fielding’s neck. The dose of the sedative wasn’t enough to take the man down, but he couldn’t carry him.
Fielding turned to him with wide eyes.
“It took me so long to find you.”
Twenty-Two
Where was He?
His head pounded as he came to and he looked around the strange cabin. Where was Livingston? He pushed himself to a sitting position and looked around. His head swam, and he started to push himself up, but then it all came back to him. Little’s friend. The needle.
He stumbled as he tried to get to his feet as his heart started pounding in his chest. Fear made his dizziness worse, but he had to find a way out.
“Hello, you’re finally awake.”
A friendly voice caused him to jerk his head around too quickly. Once his vision cleared, he focused on the stranger. The familiar face with deep green eyes and strong features.
“Nigel, what are you doing? I want to go home.”
“You are home—well, we’ll be going home soon. I’ll just give you a day to rest up from your ordeal.”
“Livingston’s going to find you.”
Livingston would find him. He didn’t doubt it, and he just needed to hold it together. Be smart. Be strong.
“I seriously doubt that. You don’t have to deny what you feel about me. I’ve known we were meant for each other since the first time I met you. We don’t have to hide it anymore.”
“You made fun of me with your friends.”
“I’m sorry about that, I was stupid, but we don’t have to hide it anymore.”
“I’m not hiding anything. I want Livingston.”
“Your Daddy?”
“He cares about me. He’s not—”
He flinched as Nigel’s fist connected with the wooden door, and he moved until the bed was between them. The wall held him up because his legs were still weak.
“If I scream people will hear me.”
“No, they won’t. I found a very nice cabin. Romantic for us to spend the night until we head to my home in the morning. First, we need to take care of a few things.”
He’d had a small crush on Nigel until he’d found out how cruel the then sixteen-year-old had been. Condescending and making fun of the other people on set, Nigel thought he was better than everyone else.
“What are you going to do to me?”
“We have to get you clean. You let that disgusting freak touch you. You don’t have to pretend anymore; he isn’t around. He hurt you, I saw it.”
His stomach churned with the need to throw up. “Saw what?”
“You cried after he forced himself on you. He hit you.”
Nigel had watched the first night Livingston had taken him. The spanking. He remembered every detail of that night. His first time was special, and he wouldn’t cheapen it not even to save himself. Livingston had loved him. “He didn’t force himself on me. I loved—”
“Quit lying,” Nigel yelled.
The man seemed to calm himself with a few deep breaths and then the friendly smile was back.
“I’ve got a bath ready for you.”
“I don’t want a bath. I want to go home to Livingston. Now.”
“You need to calm down. We’ll have a nice bath, and I’ll get you some food, we’ll sleep and tomorrow everything will be better.”
How crazy was this man? Did Nigel actually think that he wanted anything to do with him?
Nigel moved across the room, and he backed as far into the corner as he could get. He fought the hands that gripped his biceps. He kicked and clawed, but Nigel was surprisingly strong. He was dragged out of the room even as he dug his heels in; the hardwood floors didn’t allow him any traction for his sock covered feet.
The sounds of running water and steam filled the bathroom. He was knocked to the floor, and he grunted as his head collided with the old-fashioned tub. The pain dulled his vision. While he was distracted, Nigel snapped cuffs around his wrists and another around his ankles, the metal cutting into his skin.
“Be still I don’t want to hurt you.”
He shoved himself into the space between the toilet and tub. He stared at Nigel as the man came at him with scissors.
