Night by Night

by Tymber Dalton

  Her large, greyish-green eyes studied him as he talked and told her a little about himself and his experience. She still wore her long reddish blonde hair in a loose, messy bun on the top of her head.

  That was one benefit about dating inside the BDSM pond—it was easy to get likes and dislikes noted and out of the way before discussing things such as real names.

  “How are your rope skills?” she asked when he’d finished listing his kinks and play preferences.

  “I can restrain someone, but I’m definitely not at the level of the Top you just played with. I wouldn’t even think about attempting a suspension right now.”

  “Oh.” She sat back, pulling the ponytail holder from her hair and finger-combing her tresses. They hung past her shoulders. “I really like rope. I’m not much of a masochist. I mean, I’ll take some light play. Sensual play. Any kind of bondage, though, whether it’s rope or cuffs or whatever, will turn my crank hard.” She smiled. “Strict protocols, like kneeling, stuff like that, is fun, too. I like handing over control when I trust someone.”

  In the past, that would have been the exactly perfect line to reel him in hard to ask for more details and continue the conversation.

  “Eliza said you’re single,” she noted. “Did you want to play tonight?”

  At least he didn’t have to make up a reason to refuse her. “I didn’t come prepared to play tonight, and I don’t think I’m in the right headspace to play anyway, sorry. It’s been a long week.”

  “That’s okay.” Although she did look a little disappointed.

  He forced himself to ask it. “Did you want to grab dinner or something sometime?”

  Even he heard the lack of interest in his voice. Damn, I used to be better at this.

  “I mean, hit me up on Fet and send me a message with your deets.” She told him her profile name, which was actually different than what she’d given him as a scene name. “I marked myself as coming tonight, so you can find me through the event page. I’ve got a crazy work schedule the next couple of weeks, so it’d have to be after that.”

  He nodded, relieved, and feeling like an idiot for feeling relieved. “Sure, not a problem.”

  Before Hank returned, would Maddox have felt eager to follow up with her? Shown her more interest so she’d be eager to explore things a little sooner with him?

  Because he suspected, based on her tone and how she was glancing around already, that her work schedule was just an excuse.

  Which was disappointing on a number of levels, because it was an immediate ding against her for the dishonesty. Nothing he could pin down for certain, of course, but her body language screamed it.

  And he wasn’t about to ignore that.

  Missing subtle cues the last time got him into that mess with Kelly.

  Rather, allowed him to miss the mess she was making of his life without him even knowing it at the time.

  “Nice talking to you.” She pointed to a small group of people who’d just arrived, half of them carrying gear bags. “I’ve been waiting for them to arrive. Hit me up and we’ll get together sometime.”

  “Sure. Thanks. Nice talking to you, too.” But as she stood and walked over to the group and started giving and receiving hugs, he knew it’d never happen.

  So he picked up his bottle of water and refocused on the suspension in progress.

  Eliza plopped down next to him, wearing a dour expression. “Dude, you could’ve tried a little harder than that. You ruin our perfect record, I’m not going to be happy.” She poked him in the shoulder.

  “Sorry, ma’am.” He swirled his water bottle a little. “I’m just not feeling it.”

  Her expression softened. “You could try talking to Hank.”

  “And if he freaks out and it ruins our friendship?” He met her gaze.

  “Maybe it won’t, you know. Maybe he’ll surprise you.”

  “He’s only been back in my life for two weeks. I’m not willing to risk that. If he expresses an interest in what I’m doing here, I can ease my way into that conversation and come out as bi. But right now, I think that’d overwhelm him.”

  “Sad thing is, I think you’re right about that, at least.” She patted him on the shoulder before she stood and headed across the space to talk to someone else.

  As the suspension progressed, Maddox tried to focus on that and not on the thoughts in his brain, the fears, the worst-case potential if he came out completely to Hank.

  Because he wasn’t sure he could handle that kind of broken heart right now.

  Chapter Ten

  Over the next week, Dox came over every evening to have dinner with them, although it was now Hank buying the groceries.

  Most nights. Sometimes, Dox put his foot down and insisted on buying them, and sometimes he just showed up with them without even asking first.

  Dox was also helping JJ with the robotics kit. It was a little advanced for her age, but he was so patient explaining things to her and letting her do them that sometimes Hank found himself standing there and watching them together instead of doing whatever it was he’d planned to get done while Dox kept her busy and supervised.

  The next Saturday evening, however, Dox once again went to that club, attended another rope class. Hank had even gone so far as to look up the place online. Sure enough, it stated in several places on the website that sex was absolutely not allowed, and that…reassured him somewhat.

  Why, he wasn’t exactly sure.

  He also wasn’t sure he wanted to figure it out.

  Or to figure out his vague irritation and anxiety over it all, which lasted until Dox had sent him a good-night text a little before ten, telling him he’d made it home and was going to bed early.

  While also confirming they were coming over to his place to go swimming and have dinner on Sunday.

  Leaving Hank filled with a vaguely smug satisfaction that Dox obviously hadn’t hooked up with anyone, or had brought anyone home.

  Monday night, Dox came over for dinner, bringing a Publix chicken dinner with him. But since Hank wasn’t feeling very good, and JJ didn’t seem to be, either, they called it an early night. After Dox left for the evening, Hank got JJ put to bed.

  Then he could finally just…chill. There was a chance he might not have much to do with work tomorrow, because rain was predicted, which would put a halt to the job he was currently working on with the crew. They were supposed to remove a large roof on a house tomorrow in preparation for repairing any rotted decking and then re-roofing it. He was simultaneously hoping they didn’t get rained out, meaning he’d only earn three hours’ pay, and hoping they did so he could come home and take a nap before picking up JJ.

  I’m so exhausted.

  Exhaustion was a state he was used to perpetually living in. Except now without the additional crushing loneliness of living in Pennsylvania. This exhaustion, at least, was the satisfying kind. Earned after having worked an honest day’s labor, of knowing you don’t owe any apologies for how hard you labored.

  Absolutely, moving back to Florida had been the right choice. He’d reconnected with Dox, he’d gotten hooked up with Eliza and June, and secured affordable, reliable care for JJ.

  He liked his boss and most of his coworkers. The work wasn’t his dream job but it wasn’t like he was qualified to do something that would pay a lot more. Listley already had him shadowing some of the crew foremen to learn from them. Since Hank had a clean driver’s license, he was further ahead than many others on their crews who didn’t have a clean license—or any license.

  At least Hank was able to keep the rent paid, food on their table, and could see where in a few months he’d have their finances caught up and able to get them some sort of health insurance. They were getting ahead, finally.

  Finally.

  The peace of mind from having half a country between him and Cameron’s family was also worth it.

  Soooo worth it.

  Part of him wanted to pour himself a drink and take time to unwind for a
little while on Facebook, and part of him said no, go to freaking bed already.

  Adulting suuuuucks.

  But he decided adulting was the smart thing, so he checked all the doors and windows. He was in the kitchen when he thought he heard a noise in the garage, but when he stuck his head through the door from the kitchen, he didn’t see or hear anything. He’d done a load of laundry earlier and already had it dried and put away. His truck was parked inside tonight, because he wasn’t sure if it’d be raining in the morning or not, and he didn’t want JJ to get soaked getting her into the truck.

  He crawled into bed and closed his eyes. Dox had been around so much over the past couple of weeks that it was difficult to remember how lonely he’d felt up in Pennsylvania.

  It once again reaffirmed his decision to move back to Florida.

  To home.

  To raise JJ here and wipe all memories of Pennsylvania from her mind, except for the good ones of Lois that he wanted her to remember.

  He was building his village for her, and a damn fine one it was, too, if he did say so himself.

  At some point he finally drifted to sleep. It was anything but a restful slumber, though. He had nightmares of working on the roof of a house and it caving in under him, complete with creaks and groans and crashing noises—

  “DADDY!” JJ screamed, waking him up in a blind panic.

  The noises weren’t just in his dreams. Somewhere in the house, he heard a grating, grinding noise, a sickening metallic crash, and more of JJ’s panicked screams.

  He jumped out of bed and bolted for her room only to find the door standing wide open, but she wasn’t there. He spun around and ran down the hall, through the living room and into the kitchen, where he found her backing away from the door leading to the garage.

  Scooping her up, he paused as he tried to process what, exactly, he was seeing in the garage. His pickup truck now rested nose-down in a large and growing hole that was swallowing it in slow-motion.

  Synapses in his brain finally started firing. “Fuck!” He turned, snatching his phone and wallet off the counter with his free hand as he ran past, heading for the sliding glass doors off the living room, which led out to the backyard.

  JJ was crying in his ear but he ran around the far end of the house and out to the sidewalk. There, one-handed and trembling, he dialed 911. He also got a better view of what, exactly, was going on.

  “911, what is your emergency?”

  “I…I…” He stared at the growing maw slowly devouring his driveway. “Sinkhole. There’s a sinkhole that just formed under our house. It’s…” He struggled not to burst into tears. “It’s swallowed my truck, and it’s taking our house.”

  “Sir, is everyone out of the house?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Are you in a safe location?”

  “We’re outside. My daughter and I.”

  “All right, I’m dispatching help right now…”

  Since he was standing out there in his boxer shorts, Hank wanted to try to grab something else to wear for himself and for JJ. Once he hung up with 911, he ran to their next-door neighbor on the safer end of the house, away from the sinkhole. He pounded on her door, screaming to wake her up, and shoved JJ at her when she opened the door. He’d met her and her husband, and they were an older couple, very nice.

  “Sinkhole! Please hold her, I’ll be right back!”

  JJ screamed at him not to leave her, trying to pull away from the neighbor and reach for him, but when the neighbor stepped out of her house and realized what was happening, she yelled for her husband.

  Hank ran around to the backyard again, then inside through the sliders, which he’d left standing open, and down the hall to his bedroom. He grabbed shorts, a T-shirt, and started to grab shoes when an idea hit.

  He yanked open his window, which looked onto the backyard. After punching the screen out, he started heaving boxes of his clothes through it. Once the cops arrived, they likely wouldn’t let him back into the house. He grabbed his laptop and charger and dumped it out there, too, managing to drop it on a box to cushion it.

  Then he ran down to JJ’s room and did the same thing, grabbing armfuls of clothes, her school and gear bags, and tossed them out the open window.

  But when he ran back toward the great room, to try to grab some of the boxes there, a sheriff’s deputy, who’d run in through the open sliders, caught up with him.

  “Sir, you have to get out of here. Now. It’s not safe!”

  “But I need to get—”

  “Now!” He grabbed him by the arm and practically dragged him out of the house. From the garage he heard more crashes and metallic grinding. The deputy helped him move what he’d salvaged so far to the temporary safety of the neighbor’s porch. Finally, Hank took a sobbing JJ back from the neighbor and cradled her against him.

  Another deputy was already stringing yellow caution tape around the front of their house. As a fireman walked up to him and started talking to him, Hank slid to the ground, his arms around JJ as they both cried.

  * * * *

  Maddox had been sound asleep after masturbating to his usual stable of fantasies about Hank when his phone rang and woke him up.

  Hank’s custom tone.

  He fumbled it, where it lay on his nightstand, before he answered it. “Hello?”

  It sounded like Hank was crying, instantly driving sleep from Maddox’s brain while simultaneously making him think the worst. “Dox…I need you, I-I—”

  “What’s wrong?”

  Another man came on the line. “Hello?”

  A brief flood of jealous rage mixed with worry washed through him at the strange voice. “Who is this?” Maddox demanded.

  “Sir, this is Deputy Allen Greer, Sarasota County Sheriff’s Office. To whom am I speaking?”

  His jealousy evaporated and converted immediately to full-on worry. “Maddox Orosco. What happened? Are Hank and JJ okay?”

  “They’re safe…” Maddox sat up, horror filling him as the deputy told him what happened. “Mr. Webster indicated you’re a family friend. Would you be willing to come and—”

  “Please tell him I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Or less.” Maddox was already up and moving even before he ended the call. As he got dressed, he had a thought and called Eliza.

  “Oh, shit!” she said when he quickly explained. “We’re on the way. We’ll call some people. Maybe we can get them to let us move as much of their stuff out as we can salvage. I’ll call Bryce, too. I have his number. Maybe he can help convince them to let us do it.”

  “Thank you!”

  He was in the car two minutes later, his heart still pounding from the adrenaline dump the phone call triggered.

  Damn right he’d be there for Hank and JJ.

  Just try and stop me.

  * * * *

  At first, Maddox thought a deputy who was keeping the street blocked off wouldn’t let him in, until he explained who he was.

  “Also, there are friends of ours coming to help,” he said, giving him Eliza’s and Rusty’s names.

  “Okay, I’ll make sure they get through.”

  Maddox slowly wove his car down the street and around fire rescue vehicles, until he got as far as they’d let him drive and he parked on the street three houses down from Hank’s. Then he got out and ran the rest of the way, finally spotting Hank sitting on his neighbor’s front porch, JJ in his lap and clinging to him like a koala.

  Poor Hank looked lost, in shock. Before Maddox could say anything to him though, JJ realized he was there and she flung herself at him. He caught her and held her.

  “Uncle Dox! All our stuff’s inside.”

  “It’s okay, sweetheart. Stuff can be replaced. You two are safe—that’s all that matters.”

  There was a haphazard pile of clothes and boxes stacked on the porch. From what he could see, half of the driveway, Hank’s truck, and the roll-up door had dropped into a large cavity. That corner of the house looked like it was already starti
ng to sag, in danger of fully caving in.

  He carefully sat next to Hank, still holding JJ, and draped his arm around Hank. “Hey, buddy.”

  “I have to get the boxes from the back of the living room,” he said, sounding stunned. “Mom and Dad and Lois are in there. And all our pictures and stuff.”

  Eliza and Rusty came running up, Bryce on their heels. “Are you guys okay?” Eliza asked.

  Hank slumped against Maddox. “What am I going to do?” he hoarsely asked.

  Maddox handed JJ back to Hank. “We need to get their stuff out.” If he had to risk arrest himself, he’d at least go get the boxes holding their urns and pictures. Those were the top four boxes in the pile, clearly labelled in marker. He’d seen them plenty of times during his visits, practically had them memorized.

  Marcia and Derrick hurried up, followed by several others. As the attorney, Bryce took over. Within five minutes, they were consulting with the senior sheriff’s commander who’d taken control of the scene. Walking around the back of the house, they surveyed the situation.

  “I’ll give you fifteen minutes,” he finally said. “Or if it looks like it’s getting worse, I’ll call you out.”

  “That’s all we need,” Bryce said. “Let’s go.”

  Working fast, they formed several human chains, one group taking the living room, and two groups taking the bedrooms. It only took them ten minutes to empty as much as they could, avoiding the kitchen, because it was too close to the garage and too unstable.

  Derrick and Marcia had driven both their vehicles, as had Eliza and Rusty, and Bryce had his car. Some of the others they’d called in had pickup trucks. As Hank and JJ sat on the porch and watched, Maddox and Bryce coordinated loading their belongings into vehicles for the trip over to Maddox’s house.

  “I-I don’t have a car seat for her,” Hank hoarsely said. “Hers was in my truck.”

  “I got you covered,” one of the men said. “I’ll give you ours. We’ve got others in Essie’s car and one of the trucks.” He ran off to retrieve it from his car.