by J. M. Dabney
“Stop,” he screamed as he tried to kick, but Nigel threw his weight on top of his legs.
He struggled and tried not to choke on his fear as Nigel cut his clothes from him, first his shirt, then his pants and underwear. He curled his body up with fear of Nigel’s weight touching his sensitive groin.
“You don’t want to do this.”
“It’s for your own good, Fielding, that brute brainwashed you into thinking you liked those things. I just want to get you clean. I swear I can smell him on you.”
He bucked and fought as he was lifted then lowered into the water. Screaming in pain as the scalding water covered him. His skin was turning red. He aimed for Nigel’s eyes, but missed, his hands were forced upward, the chain of the cuffs secured over a hook. The bottom of the tub was so slick that he couldn’t push himself up far enough to free his hands.
“Now, just relax,” Nigel whispered.
It wasn’t the thought of getting hurt or whatever Nigel wanted to do to him. No, it was the utter calm in the other man’s voice. He could deal with anger. Maybe a hit or two, but Nigel actually believed he wanted that.
He yelled as the rough loofah scraped at his burned skin. Every inch of him was scrubbed. He begged for Nigel to stop when the man reached between his legs.
“You’ve gotten fat, Fielding, that won’t do. We’ll get you back into the gym. Muffin tops are not cute.”
The man clucked at him, and he slammed his eyes closed as tears filled them. He pictured Livingston. The way Livingston touched him. Loved on him. Relived every time Livingston called him beautiful. He lost himself in the memories as his body was abraded.
Livingston would find him. Livingston promised him.
He could survive this because he knew Livingston wouldn’t stop until he brought him home.
Twenty-Three
He was Bringing His Boy Home
He watched every second of the videos for a third time since they’d discovered Fielding gone. Rauch had come up behind Fielding. His rage had built the second he saw the needle sink into Fielding’s neck. Fielding should have been in the meeting, sitting on his lap, and not alone in the break room. His boy should’ve been where he belonged.
He pivoted on his toes and grabbed Little’s t-shirt. “What the fuck is this shit about a friend of yours visiting you?” He slammed Little back against the wall.
“Dude, I hooked up with someone at Brawlers. Black hair, green eyes, trim, but muscular, that wasn’t—”
“Apparently it fucking was and now my fucking boy is gone just because you can’t keep it in your pants for anyone who shows you some fucking attention.”
If he wasn’t so angry, Little’s flinch would’ve made him apologize.
“Livingston, leave Little alone, you can bitch when you haven’t fucked up yourself. And I’m just as much to blame. I let the guy upstairs.”
Peaches pushed between them, shoving at his chest. And if it were anyone but her, he’d have swung. He jerked away, turning to punch the wall. The pain didn’t take the edge off, and he wanted to do it again until his knuckles were bloody.
“This is my office, Livingston, quit abusing it,” Hunter chastised him. “Everyone out.”
Hunter surged from his chair and pushed everyone out including Linus. Once in the hallway, Livingston calmed down enough to think again.
“Where the fuck would he take him?”
“Cam already set up roadblocks as far out as he could, and Hunter tapped into the camera footage from around town. They headed out of town to the west. He’s from Savannah, but he was headed the opposite direction.”
He lowered his chin to his chest and drew deep breaths in through his nose and out through his mouth. All he could see behind his lids was Rauch helping a stumbling Fielding out of the break room and into the elevator. That fucker had his boy hidden away somewhere, could be doing—he cut off the thought. Rauch considered Fielding his—thought they had a relationship. The last letters and gifts were the type of thing a boyfriend would give and say. Each letter ended with an I love you.
“There’s nothing out that way. There’re some lakefront cabins. Old man Hardy hasn’t rented those out in a while though. Too much upkeep for him,” Linus said.
“Doesn’t mean he wouldn’t rent them out. Money is money,” Little answered.
Luckily Little kept his distance, he still wanted to take the fucker’s head off. He shouldn’t have said what he did though. Little was on the insane side, but he knew the man’s past and Little had some attachment issues. Little always fell hard for someone who showed him some attention. He wanted someone of his own so much Little was a bit gullible when it came to a pretty face.
“I’m on it,” Peaches said as she pulled her phone from her pocket.
He held his breath; Fielding was coming up on two hours missing. Their meeting had run over because they’d had to start from square one. He didn’t want to think about what Rauch could be doing to Fielding, but the thoughts wouldn’t let him go.
“Homer, how are you doing, this is Peaches.”
He shoved his hands into his pockets and clenched his fists.
“Well, we’ve had a friend go missing, and we were wondering if you’d rented out one of your cabins recently…you did, when was that?” Peaches paused. “Two days ago, which one is the young man staying at?”
Peaches rushed to the table and scrawled an address onto one of Gage’s legal pads. She picked it up and threw it at him; he caught it.
He was on the move before he hollered for his team to gear up. For all they knew, Rauch was already on the move. He faintly heard Linus talking to Cam to update him. They coordinated that Cam and Wren would meet them at the turn-off.
He had his vest on and was attaching his holster to his thigh.
“Liv.”
He ignored Linus.
“Livingston, you have to keep your head in the game. We take Rauch in and hand him over to the Sheriff. This isn’t about revenge. You only take that shot if your boy is in danger for no other reason. You got me?”
“Yeah, I got you.”
Everyone was in their tactical gear and ready to go when he headed for the elevator. If God turned out to exist, he had enough sins that to pay for one more wouldn’t break him.
He stared down the long dirt road that disappeared into the trees. He clenched his fists, and the leather creaked as it stretched over his knuckles. Three hours and time was running out. Rauch seemed to be a highly intelligent man if not completely fucking insane. Would Rauch make the mistake of sticking around after he grabbed Fielding?
“Livingston, you’re going in with me and Raul from the east, Little and Pure, you take the west, Gage is going to hang back if we have any problems. Cam and Wren are going in the front to lure Rauch away from the back of the house. We’ll make entry, secure the package and be out. No fuck-ups.”
Everyone echoed affirmatives behind him.
“Liv, are we good?”
“We’re good. I just want Fielding back.”
“Only to let him—”
“Shut the fuck up, Linus, I’ll do what needs done.”
He didn’t need Linus or any of the others busting his balls. His boy could already be gone. Delays over bullshit weren’t required.
“Let’s move,” Linus ordered.
He took his usual position of being on point. Wordlessly he let everyone know he’d be the first to enter. He picked through the thick grouping of trees, sidestepped roots and scanning everything in the distance as he kept his gun aimed at the ground.
He stopped just as the cabin came into view and raised his fist to stop Linus and Raul. There wasn’t any movement. He glanced toward the road and tracked the slow progress of the Sheriff’s SUV. With their distraction in place, they were on the move again.
“We’re in position, waiting for orders,” Little’s voice filled his head from the earpiece.
He crouched down in the shadows as Cam and Wren exited the vehicle.
“On my mark,” Linus whispered.
As soon as Cam knocked, he rose from his hiding spot, and as the door opened, Linus gave the order to move in. All the cabins were the same. He stopped on the small stoop and eased open the screen door. He clenched his teeth at the grinding sound. Linus grabbed it, and he tried the handle. It wasn’t locked, and he turned the knob and pushed the door open enough for him to squeeze through.
The table was set for a romantic meal, flowers, and candles. Livingston stayed to the edges as he listened to the conversation going on at the front of the cabin.
“Sorry to bother you, sir, but I’m Sheriff Pelter. Mr. Hardy called earlier and said some of his cabins were vandalized overnight. Kids in small towns get bored. We told him we’d check it out.”
“It’s okay, Sheriff, just doing your job. As you can see everything is fine out here.”
“We see that, but law enforcement driving around we didn’t want to make you nervous.”
He slipped into the hallway toward the single bedroom, and he froze as one of the floorboards creaked under him. He came to a closed door and found a new chain lock. He glanced back to find Linus with his back to him aiming toward the opening of the hall. He raised his right hand and slid the chain free before he opened the door enough to peek in.
As soon as he looked inside, Fielding’s sobs became clear.
“Baby,” he whispered.
Fielding flew off the bed, and he held his finger to his mouth to tell Fielding to stay quiet. He cursed as Fielding’s naked body pressed against his, and he saw the raw, painful looking marks all over him.
“It’s okay,” he shushed his boy and kissed his soft blond hair. “Do you have some clothes, if not I want you to wrap yourself in a blanket.”
“I don’t want to—”
“I’ll be right here, you’re safe, but I need you to cover yourself. Did he—”
“No, no, he scrubbed me, and it hurt, and the water—”
He cut his boy off with a kiss.
“You two can catch up later, let’s move.” Linus kept his voice low, but his tone was more amused than boss-like.
He flipped Linus off, and Fielding gingerly strode for the bed. Fielding pulled the quilt off the bed.
“Livingston, you take point, and I’ll protect your boy’s ass.”
He nodded as he grabbed Fielding’s hand when the boy returned to him and moved him so his boy tucked himself to his back.
“You stay down, and you stay behind me, Raul is waiting in the kitchen, Cam and Wren are at the door.”
“Okay.” Fielding hugged his waist and pressed his forehead between his shoulder blades.
They were in movement to the end of the hall, and then they heard a shout from the direction of the door. He peeked into the front room to find Rauch face down on the floor fighting Camden’s hold.
“Get my boy out,” he ordered Linus. “Now, take him.”
He felt Fielding fighting Linus, but his boss was stronger, and Fielding was crying behind him. He kept his weapon at his side as he slowly walked across the room and crouched down. He looked into the crazed eyes of Rauch. The fucker didn’t even realize he’d been caught.
“My lawyer will have me out in a matter of hours. Can’t a man spend the night in a cabin with his boyfriend.”
He pressed the barrel of his nine-millimeter to the man’s temple.
“Livingston, holster your weapon,” Camden ordered.
He had no intention of complying.
“You see, I don’t much care about lawyers or even that the Sheriff is putting you in handcuffs. My boy is leaving here with me.”
“You brainwashed him, he was mine, and you came—”
“Now, now, no need for accusations, Rauch, I can tell you right now, if you even think about coming near Fielding, I don’t care if it’s a day from now or ten years from now, you’re dead. You better be glad I don’t want my boy to see me kill you, but I make no guarantees for the future.”
He straightened and holstered his weapon; then he spun to find Fielding still fighting Linus’ grip. He took a few steps forward and opened his arms. He finally breathed a sigh of relief against Fielding’s neck. His arms so tight around his boy with fear that Fielding would disappear.
“We’re going to the hospital to get you checked out and then we’ll go home, okay?”
Fielding didn’t speak simply nodded, and he led his boy out of the house. He only had a little longer with Fielding, and he was going to take advantage of every second.
Twenty-Four
His Knight’s Armor was Pretty Dented
He moaned as Livingston’s hands smoothed more of the burn cream over his skin. The tenderness only lasted a few days, but he hadn’t told Livingston that. He didn’t even know if the man would care that he felt all better.
The first night they were back in the cabin and Livingston had rubbed the medicinal salve into his skin, the big man had been gentle. Even apologized every time he hissed at the pain. He’d had a few blisters from the water. They’d come to find out Nigel had boiled the water on the stove to fill most of the tub.
“My knight in shining armor.”
He let his gaze move over Livingston’s nude body. He loved the contrast of the hairiness of Livingston’s left side and the sparser hair on his right. He felt his mouth pull into a grin as he stroked his palm over Livingston’s chest from left to right. He was going to miss this.
Livingston rolled his eyes. “It’s pretty dented and rusty if I’m not mistaken.”
They hadn’t mentioned the future, and in his gut, he knew the big man was going to send him home. It hurt, but he’d do what Livingston said. When Livingston was in Daddy-mode, the man couldn’t be swayed. All he could hope for was that Livingston would miss him enough to come for him.
He raised his hand to stroke the big man’s scarred cheek. Livingston didn’t flinch anymore and seemed to lean into his touch. Probably not to anyone else but him, Livingston was gorgeous. Everything he’d ever wanted and was too afraid to find.
“Fielding,” Livingston whispered his name and stretched out beside him.
“Don’t say it.”
“We have to talk about it.”
Camden called the day after his rescue to inform them that Nigel had used one of the sheets from a cot to hang himself. Nigel hadn’t succeeded in killing himself, but they’d had to transfer him to the psych ward of the local hospital. They assumed he was trying to go for an insanity defense.
“I don’t want to…it’s over. Nothing happened.”
“I’ve let you get away with not talking about it, but that time has ended.”
“He grabbed me, took me to that cabin, tried to boil me in the tub to wash you off me, said I needed to get back to the gym because my muffin top wasn’t attractive.”
“It’s official…he’s fucking insane.”
He giggled as Livingston bit at the padding in question as the big man’s beard tickled him and he combed his fingers through Livingston’s dark hair.
“I go home tomorrow.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. They say life is about timing, right? Maybe it’s just not—”
“That’s not what you believe so don’t lie to me.”
“I want you to keep me. I want to empty out that gaudy apartment my mother decorated for me. I want to live here.” Livingston turned his head to rest it on his stomach. “With you. Go to college. I want to be yours, Daddy.”
“Being tied to me and all my hang-ups would just make you miserable. I can’t do that to you, you’re still young, and I was your first.”
“Don’t say that. I wanted you to be my first. I’ll never regret that.”
He hated pretending he was feeling mature about this. He wanted to beg Livingston to keep him. The almost two months he’d stayed with Livingston he’d realized that the life he’d had back in California wasn’t the one he wanted.
“Fuck me one more time, Daddy, please.”<
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“I don’t think—”
“Don’t think, please, just one more time and I’ll be good when it’s time for me to leave.”
“I won’t fuck you tonight, boy.”
He closed his eyes as they started to burn with unshed tears, but then Livingston was on top of him. Livingston’s weight was bearing him down into the mattress. He parted his thighs and wrapped his legs around the big man.
Gentle kisses were placed on his face much like the ones when Livingston took him the first time.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, and you let me touch you. Did you know you were my first kiss?”
His quickly opened his eyes. “What?”
“The few kisses I’d had, they were drunk, and they still pulled away as soon as they felt my scars. The first time I saw you, I wanted to deny it, but I couldn’t look away from you. I wanted your agent or parents to piss off Linus so that he’d tell them to fuck off.”
“But you hated me on sight.”
“No, little man, I didn’t hate you, I wanted you, and I knew you’d find me disgusting and laugh at the freak lusting after someone so out of his league.”
“I watched you get ready for bed that night. I didn’t care about these.” He lovingly stroked the uneven cheek, through his beard to the corner of Livingston’s mouth. “I thought you were handsome and dangerous. You know how some of us like those bad boys.”
“Is that what it was, nothing about you wanting your Daddy to take care of you?”
“Daddy, if you’re not going to fuck me, what are you doing to do with me?”
“I’m going to love on my boy all night.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
The loving was slow and gentle, the loving Livingston promised him. Kisses and featherlight strokes, Livingston sucking him until he nearly lost it only for the big man to pull back. It was frustrating and perfect. When Livingston’s slick fingers readied him, he arched and panted, begged for Livingston to hurry, but the man chuckled and kept up the lazy pace.
