Bringing It Home (Code Of Honor Book 3)

by Reese Knightley

  Triton was so surprised, he opened his mouth and took the bite. It was so good, he moaned and licked his lips.

  Diesel sucked in a breath and handed him the spoon so he could eat. Triton watched, a bit fascinated, as Diesel buttered a roll and then handed it to him. He couldn’t remember anyone ever doing that for him. His mouth watered and he sank his teeth into the soft bread.

  “It’s so good. I’m so hungry,” he said around a mouthful.

  “How did you lose your ID?”

  He sat his spoon down and the bread aside. “I don’t know.”

  Diesel lifted his hand and wrapped it back around the spoon.

  “You eat and I’ll talk. You left Texas probably without telling a soul. Did you quit your job?”

  “Not officially. I was fired.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I failed to show up.” He kept his head down.

  “Eat.” Diesel nudged his hand and Triton resumed his eating.

  He took a few more bites beneath Diesel’s watchful gaze and polished off the bread and most of the soup. He grew full.

  Diesel didn’t say another word until the meal was cleared away and he was tucked back against the pillows.

  “I’m not going to ask you why you failed to show up at your job because I have a pretty good idea,” Diesel growled out, bringing Triton’s eyes up from where his fingers were twisting the sheet. “Does Maddox still think you’re in college?”

  “Yeah,” he whispered.

  “I told you to stop lying to him.”

  “I’m not, I just didn’t tell him.”

  “Triton,” Diesel barked his name, causing Triton to freeze up. “Your lying to others and me stops now.”

  He swallowed around a tight throat; unable to tear his eyes from Diesel’s stern gaze.

  “Is that clear?”

  “Yes.”

  “I want your word.”

  “I promise,” he rushed to say.

  “Did you call Bull before you left?”

  “He called me.” He chewed on his lip and plucked at the blanket. “He thinks I’m spending spring break with a friend. Bull also thinks I’m living on campus.”

  He sat quiet beneath Diesel’s stern look.

  “I’m sorry. I won’t lie again.”

  Diesel nodded after a moment. “So, nobody knows where you are?”

  “Fraser does.”

  “Another one of Clay’s men?”

  “No! Fraser is my best friend.”

  “Okay, start at the beginning and tell me everything. I’ll know if you lie.”

  “I won’t lie, I promise,” He trembled when Diesel reached for his hand and linked their fingers.

  “This is a really good start. Now, start at the beginning.”

  “I got back with Clay after you left.” He stopped at the brief flash of pain in the older man’s eyes.

  The silence stretched and tears streamed down his cheeks. “Don’t ask me why, because I don’t know why! It was a stupid thing to do. I know that, believe me. Fraser has told me enough times what an idiot I am.”

  “Stop right there.”

  “What?” He paused, wide-eyed.

  “You calling yourself an idiot or stupid stops right now, along with the lying. Is that clear?”

  He searched Diesel’s green eyes. “Yes,” he whispered, feeling something settle in his chest. He drew a deep breath and let it out. A lot of his anxiety eased.

  “Now, tell me what happened.”

  He struggled describing the abuse and glossed over a lot of it, but Diesel stayed quiet and listened.

  “And then I jumped on the train and came here.”

  “Auto followed you. Sally took a shot over your heads to scare him off,” Diesel told him.

  “Yeah, some woman came out of the bus station and shot at Auto and screamed she was calling the cops. That’s all I remember until I woke up in the hospital.”

  “Do you remember Auto trying to take you from your hospital bed?”

  “Yes.” He heaved suddenly and Diesel was there with the trash can, holding it to his face while he threw up his small meal.

  “Shhh, it’s okay. You’re safe. I won’t let anything happen to you.” Diesel took a napkin from the tray and wiped his face.

  Just concentrate on Diesel’s deep voice. A sob bubbled up, and Diesel pulled him carefully into his arms and held him. And for the first time in three months, the tension created by living in terror left his body in a rush of air. Lightheaded, the lights grew dim.

  The room whirled as he was lifted and carried out of the room.

  “Your leg!” He gripped at Diesel’s wide shoulders.

  “Hush. You don’t weigh but a minute. Be still or you’ll make me twist my leg.”

  Reaching the restroom, Diesel left him to brush his teeth.

  He stared at himself in the mirror, at the bruises, the tiredness in his eyes, but also the hope.

  It felt so good to not have to lie or pretend any longer. He was still trying to figure out why he did the things he did, but he had a pretty good idea it stemmed from his childhood and the abuse he had suffered at the hands of his parents. How did he stop making bad choices?

  He sighed, his mouth feeling fresh, and he tucked the brand new toothbrush in the holder next to Diesel’s brush.

  Diesel returned without a word and lifted him again and carried him to the kitchen where he sat him on one of the wooden kitchen chairs.

  “I can walk,” he pouted when Diesel seemed bent on carrying him everywhere.

  “I’ll be right back. Do not move.” Diesel gave him a stern look.

  Triton sat in the chair and waited, not daring to move and really not wanting to anyways. He liked it when Diesel gave him orders—it quieted his mind and let him just obey.

  Diesel reentered and started cooking oatmeal. “You lost your dinner, but this should help settle your stomach.” Diesel left the pot simmering and produced a cup of tea from the microwave, which he brought to him.

  “It’s decaf. Cream and sugar? Right?”

  “Yes,” he whispered. “But I should be helping.”

  “Quiet. Right now, you don’t need to do anything but as you’re told.”

  He followed the large man with his eyes.

  “Drink,” Diesel said.

  Triton lifted the cup and took several grateful sips. He loved tea and was surprised Diesel had noticed he drank it.

  “Why am I here?” he finally asked after setting the cup down.

  “Because I want you here.”

  “For how long?” he wanted to ask, but kept quiet.

  “I have a relatively quiet week coming up, and we can discuss a few things. I do have a physical therapy appointment in town at the end of the week.”

  He froze and lowered his head. Terror returned with its slicing claws and bile watered his mouth.

  Diesel was suddenly there, sitting in the chair next to him.

  “Breathe. Which is it? The thought of going with me or the thought of being alone?”

  “Alone.” He gulped and gasped.

  “Don’t worry, you’re going with me.”

  His eyes clung to Diesel’s face as the fear lessened. Warmth engulfed his chest, overriding anxiety, and his lips trembled with a smile.

  He shouldn’t have brought trouble to this sleepy little town. It would be his fault if anyone was hurt by Auto. He should leave. No! He trembled.

  Maybe, just maybe, he could stay for a little while longer.

  Diesel

  “Hey, Diesel.”

  “Hey, Memphis, anything?” He cupped the phone between his shoulder and chin.

  “No.”

  “He’s got to be hunkered down somewhere.”

  “I agree, but every hotel in Fern has been checked.”

  “What about the homes where people are gone a few months out of the year? Or the people who live alone?”

  “Most of them are back for spring, but I’m having the empty ones checked one by
one. I called in a favor from the next county to get more officers over here to check on the people living alone. You know that’s over half of our small town.”

  “I know. He could be staying in the woods. There’s enough hunting cabins out there. Hell, it’s warm enough to camp out.”

  “I already thought of that and have my deputies canvassing every hunting cabin in a ten-mile radius.”

  “Okay, keep me posted.”

  “Will do.”

  He hung up and called Maddox’s phone. It went straight to voicemail, indicating the man was still out of the country. He hung up without leaving a message.

  He sent a text to Colonel Liam Cobalt to find out when Maddox would return. He should have called Maddox the first night he’d brought Triton home, but Maddox was out of the country. It wouldn’t do any good to worry him.

  Resting his head on the back of the couch, he stretched out his leg.

  Other than the drug dealing, Triton wasn’t very forthcoming about what Clay and his scumbag brother had put him through. Diesel hoped that with enough patience, the boy would begin to talk more. With the amount of injuries and bruises on Triton’s body, he suspected that Clay and Auto had not only physically abused Triton but they’d sexually abused him, and if that were the case? Both of them were breathing borrowed air.

  Memphis told him that Sally had interrupted Auto before he could rape Triton, but that didn’t mean they hadn’t done it before.

  Adjusting the brace, he snapped it on his knee and rubbed at his thigh muscle. It was holding up better than he’d expected over the past week. Mostly, because he hadn’t gone anywhere but from the kitchen to Triton’s bedroom and back again.

  He had a boy in his house again for the first time in a long time. A boy that didn’t belong to him, and one that was too damned young as it was. He was serious when he had told Memphis he didn’t want another boy, especially one that young. Triton is nothing like Shawn. Shawn hadn’t only left him, he’d betrayed him. Diesel had come home on leave to find Shawn fucking his stepsister, Lila. The daughter of the man Diesel’s mother had married. A woman Diesel had considered a sister and a friend.

  His phone buzzed with a text from Liam.

  Maddox is due back to the States today.

  Diesel tucked the phone away, he’d call later.

  Maddox deserved to know. What if he comes and takes Triton home? Diesel pulled a hand over his beard. Well, he figured there wasn’t much he could do about that.

  The crash brought him right up out of his chair. He almost fell on his face and grimaced at the twinge in his knee, but the pain was nothing compared to his fear.

  “Triton?” he called out. Nothing. With a pounding heart, he made his way down the hall. Molly was franticly dancing in the hallway.

  “Molly, go lay down,” he ordered.

  Reaching the closed bathroom door, he rapped softly.

  “Triton?”

  Nothing. He pressed his ear to the door and heard the distant sound of muffled sobs.

  Easing the door open, he found Triton on the floor, a broken water glass lay scattered, and the boy wore only a towel.

  “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

  “Triton, look at me,” he ordered, and his chest lurched when the boy lifted tear-filled eyes to his. “You’re going to do as I say, you hear me?”

  “What?”

  “Listen to me.”

  Fear swept over Triton’s whole body, but Diesel ignored it for the moment. “Climb up on the toilet seat.”

  His tone left no room for arguing, and Triton climbed up on the closed lid. Thank fuck the boy’s bare feet were now out of the glass.

  “Now,” he said and moved right up to Triton. “Hook your arms around my neck and wrap your legs around my waist and hang the fuck on.”

  “What?” Confusion.

  “Do it.”

  “But my cast.”

  “Just do it, boy,” he grumbled, keeping his voice firm and calm. It was better if Triton reached out to him rather than the other way around. He needed to get the boy to trust him.

  Triton reached up and wrapped those slender arms around his neck and those long legs around his waist, causing the towel to float to the floor.

  He gritted his teeth, more to get his fucking cock under control than from the added weight. He cupped the boy’s ass and moved back out into the hallway. Sure, he could have put him down in the hallway, but he kept going all the way until he reached Triton’s bed.

  His breathing was ragged, his cock like iron, and his blood pressure through the roof. He leaned over until Triton could sit his ass on the bed.

  And looked his fill. Light hair in a barely there treasure trail that nested around a long, thick cock that was cut and standing at attention. Despite the fading bruises, the boy’s skin was all white and smooth. Skin Diesel could trace for hours.

  Triton’s hands were fisted in his shirt and his heels were still hooked around his jean-clad legs.

  He lifted his gaze from the boy’s pretty prick to his face. Triton’s head fell back on his slender neck and his lips parted.

  Ah, fucking hell.

  He closed the distance and took those soft lips in a savage kiss. His tongue probed, seeking entrance, and when Triton gasped and let him in, Diesel devoured the young man. He bit, nuzzled, and marauded Triton’s mouth until the boy’s lips were swollen and he was gasping for breath. His own cock, painful in his pants, matched the hardness of the pretty prick between Triton’s legs.

  “Get in bed. I need to clean up.” He took a deep breath and stepped away.

  Triton’s mouth opened as if to argue, but then he scrambled back awkwardly with one arm until he was covered.

  Diesel shut out the sight of that naked, sexy body. Although, it was damned near impossible because that slim body was just the kind he craved.

  Just like Shawn. Diesel turned away and went to retrieve the broom and dust pan. It didn’t stop his memories, though. Shawn had been young and hadn’t known his own mind. The boy had definitely been too young to understand commitment.

  From that point on, he’d only hooked up casually and only with men close to his age. He never hooked up with one younger than thirty-five, and never ever did he bring one home.

  So why was it suddenly important for Triton to stay?

  And why the hell did he not want to call Maddox?

  Triton

  The kiss had been everything he’d wanted and more. Tender yet explosive, leaving him aching for Diesel and yearning to never let go, but he knew he must.

  Over the past twenty four hours, he’d suggested leaving, but every time he brought up the subject, Diesel shut him down with a flat out no or gave him a squinted stare that meant the same thing.

  He sighed. And just to make sure he wasn’t going to leave, Diesel kept good on his promise and brought him to his doctor’s appointment.

  He was moving much easier by then and only needed help getting out of Diesel’s SUV.

  Diesel parked him in a chair in the waiting room and then crouched in front of him.

  He met the man’s serious gaze.

  “Stay here, read something, I’ll be back,” Diesel ordered.

  “Okay.” He sat and stared at Diesel.

  The soldier seemed surprised that he obeyed. Why wouldn’t he? Lately, all he wanted to do was obey Diesel and make him proud.

  “I’ll be in the back. If you need me, come find me,” Diesel murmured and reached out to cup his cheek.

  “Okay.” Triton trembled beneath the touch, but it wasn’t from fear.

  “Promise me.” Diesel dropped his hand.

  “I promise.” He crossed his heart.

  Diesel, appearing satisfied, nodded and followed the nurse into the back office.

  Triton lifted a hand to his cheek and held it there, closing his eyes at the remembered touch. After a moment, he glanced around at the small waiting room. Country music played in the background from overhead speakers.

  He reste
d his head on the back of the couch and closed his eyes. The physical therapy session was going to last about an hour.

  Laughter from the girl behind the counter as she spoke on the phone woke him from his slight doze. The clock said that forty-five minutes had passed, and he blinked the tiredness from his eyes.

  Gingerly, he stood up, easing to his feet slowly. Other than a few aches and pains, he was on the mend physically. He was smart enough to know that emotionally might take a bit longer.

  “Hi, um.” He approached the receptionist’s window and searched for her name tag. “Sissy? Would it be okay if I go back there?”

  “Sure can, love, he’s in the room at the end of the hall.” The door buzzed, signaling it was unlocked, and Triton slipped inside and headed down the hallway to the room at the end.

  Pausing near the entrance, he suddenly had doubts about intruding when he heard Diesel talking to the doctor.

  “I’d suggest you wear your brace if you are going to be on your feet for long periods of time.” The voice had to be the doctor’s.

  “What about returning to active duty?” Diesel asked.

  “We’ll see how stable it is after the full nine months of therapy.”

  “Okay. That’s roughly five months away.”

  “Diesel, you need to prepare yourself. If you can’t pass the Army physical, you may never return to active duty.”

  “I know.”

  Triton pressed his hands to his mouth and turned and hurried back down to the waiting room.

  Sissy looked at him oddly.

  “They were busy, I’m just going to wait out here.” He gave her a brief smile.

  What would happen if Diesel didn’t return to active duty? Would the guy be really sad? If he didn’t go back to the army, what would Diesel do?

  He stared blindly out the window, calming his beating heart before he actually saw the rain-covered street. The town was small, only a few streets, and they were on the main one.

  Across from him was the post office and a few doors down was a general store. From what he could tell, doctors’ offices lined the side he was on.

  A dark, hulking figure came out of the store across the street. Suddenly, he jerked away from the window and slammed his back against the wall. Pain shot up his spine, and he winced and cried out.