Bringing It Home (Code Of Honor Book 3)

by Reese Knightley

  Auto had come out of the small store with a cell phone to his ear and hadn’t seen him from across the street. The guy was bold to be out in the open with the cops looking for him.

  “What’s the matter?” Sissy asked.

  “I thought I saw someone. I’m going back again.”

  Sissy buzzed the door open, and Triton hurried through the door and toward the back.

  Diesel was coming toward him. “What’s going on?’

  “I saw Auto.” He couldn’t stop shaking. At least he managed not to cry.

  Diesel drew him close. “Did he see you?”

  “I don’t know! I don’t think so.”

  Diesel pulled out his phone and called Memphis. All Triton could do was shake. Shit. He needed to grow a backbone and get the hell out of here.

  “Calm down, take a deep breath.”

  He glanced up, he must have zoned out, because Diesel was in his face and they were sitting in two chairs that lined the hallway.

  “Breathe,” Diesel said again, and Triton found himself matching his breathing to Diesel’s own.

  “Here,” Sissy said, coming down the hallway. She handed over a dark blue beanie.

  Triton sat still while Diesel carefully pulled it down over his head and tucked his bright hair beneath it.

  “We parked in back, so we’ll be going out that way.”

  Diesel linked his fingers with those of Triton’s good hand, and they left by way of the back door. When they got into Diesel’s vehicle, he buckled his seatbelt.

  “Keep your head down.”

  Triton ducked down as far as he could, and Diesel drove out of the one-way entrance at the back of the doctor’s office building. When they reached the street, he couldn’t help but glance up at the small store.

  No sign of Auto, but two patrol cars were out front.

  “I said to keep your head down.”

  He ducked down again.

  “Okay, you can sit up,” Diesel told him once they were off of the main road.

  “You’re sure you weren’t seen?”

  Had Auto seen him? He bit at the inside of his cheek.

  “I’m pretty sure.”

  “Think back, Triton. Did he look at you? Was his expression surprised?”

  “No. None of that. He didn’t see me,” he said with relief. “I don’t know why I thought he did.”

  “He’s traumatized you. Your mind is freaking you out.”

  “Yeah.”

  Diesel took a long time to get home even though the soldier’s road was not far from town.

  “So, tell me about Clay and Auto’s business.”

  “Clay was a bounty hunter. I think he lost his license, but he still works under the table for some crooked guy in town. Auto helps Clay out sometimes.” He told Diesel what he’d been trained to say.

  Diesel pulled into his garage and shut the door.

  Turning in the seat, he stared at him so long, Triton started to fidget.

  “Is that everything, boy?”

  “I can’t tell you the rest.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m scared.”

  “They won’t get you. I will protect you.”

  He’d reached a cornerstone, he either trusted Diesel or he didn’t. He took a deep breath.

  “They threatened to hurt Bull and Jim if I left and went back to the ranch.”

  “What else?”

  Triton stared into Diesel’s eyes and took another big breath.

  “Clay and Auto deal heroin for Sticks, a local drug runner. I see them bring the stash to the apartment. They forced me to carry drugs to my work for the owner. Th-th-th-that’s what they don’t want me to tell anyone.”

  Diesel’s expression remained unreadable, a muscle ticked in the man’s jaw.

  “How much stash?”

  “A lot.”

  Diesel

  The evening continued with its endless rain showers, and Diesel baked a small chicken with fixings in the oven. Triton told him the food smelled delicious. The boy set the table with dishes and Diesel piled their plates high with food. He kept the conversation light to alleviate any stress from Triton.

  After clearing the table and loading the dishwasher, they ended up in the living room.

  The boy lay on his stomach on his couch, knees bent, feet waving in the air, nose buried in his cell phone, and Diesel had a hard time keeping his eyes from roaming over Triton’s bubble butt.

  He hated to interrupt the peace, but he needed to ask Triton something extremely personal. The question was going to freak Triton out, but Diesel needed it answered.

  “Triton?”

  “Hmm?” Eyes swept up from the phone in his hand.

  “Were you raped?”

  “What?” Confusion and then fear swam into those baby blues. “No!”

  “Are you lying to me?” Diesel frowned.

  Triton lifted his chin.

  “No. I’m not. They made me do things, but they never raped me, I promise.”

  “Clay and his brother?”

  “Yeah, but Clay never knew about Auto. Auto was blackmailing me for him to keep quiet.” Triton told him the details of the blackmail, causing Diesel to see red. If Auto wasn’t already a dead man walking, he would be now.

  “Auto forcing you like that is rape in my book, Triton. Anything like that against your will constitutes a sexual assault.”

  The boy’s throat moved with a hard swallow.

  “So, next question, why would Auto follow you here?”

  “Clay probably ordered him. It’s because of what I know. What I told you about Sticks.”

  The young man rubbed at his cast and shivered.

  “I thought I got away, but then I thought that Auto had followed me on the train. But I couldn’t be sure it was him. I swear! I would have never led them here.” Tears stood in the boy’s eyes.

  “I believe you. Calm down.”

  Triton took several deep breaths.

  “So, Auto wants to do what? Take you back to Clay?”

  Triton nodded and pressed his fingers to his mouth. “I left Clay, but he doesn’t like to be told no.”

  Diesel studied Triton for a long moment, everything the boy had told him running through his mind.

  “Okay, here.” He handed Triton the remote. “Pick something on television, I need to make a phone call.

  He called Maddox the moment he reached his study.

  “Are you sitting down?”

  “Why?”

  “Triton’s been here with me for the past week.”

  “In Oregon?” Maddox sounded confused.

  “Yeah.”

  “And you’re just telling me now?”

  “In my defense, you were on a mission.”

  There was a long moment of silence.

  “Triton told Bull he was at the dorms,” Maddox finally said.

  “He lied. He’s here.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “He went back to Clay after I left.” The guilt weighed on him.

  “Son of a bitch.”

  “Yeah, they did a number on him.”

  “Tell me.”

  Diesel filled Maddox in on everything, including the drug runs, blackmail, sexual assault, and beatings. “Clay’s brother Auto followed Triton here to the bus station and attacked him.”

  “That motherfucker. I’ll fucking end him.”

  “Not before I get to him first,” Diesel silently thought.

  “Can you call the local hospital here and give them Triton’s medical coverage info? His wallet was stolen,” he said instead.

  “Yeah, will do.”

  “Triton also told me that Clay and Auto deal in large quantities of heroin with someone named Sticks.”

  “That might work in our favor. Hang on,” Maddox responded.

  The phone went quiet, with only the sound of voices murmuring in the background.

  “You there?” Maddox asked.

  “Yup.”

  “River
knows a US Marshal here in Texas that might be able to look into Clay and Auto and this Sticks guy.”

  “Let me know as soon as you find something.”

  “I will. Can you keep Triton there with you? I’m still on base, but I’ll talk to Liam.”

  “Yeah, I can do that.” He tried to keep the rush of relief out of his voice.

  “Thanks, Diesel. I know the last thing you want is your home life disrupted.”

  “It’s no problem.”

  “It’s not?”

  “No. Call me when you have info on either of the Martin brothers.” He hung up on Maddox and rubbed at his forehead.

  “What is Maddox going to do?”

  Diesel turned and found the lovely blond boy in bare feet at his doorway wearing his shirt. Triton chewed on the inside of his cheek and Diesel groaned silently.

  “He’s going to confront your boyfriend.”

  “He’s no longer my boyfriend!” It was the first sign of temper he’d seen from Triton and he was glad for it.

  “Are you sure? You went back to him last time.” He squinted, testing the boy’s resolve.

  “No, this is it. I can’t even work because of him.” Triton lifted his cast, a sheen of brightness in his eyes.

  “Maddox will see to him.”

  “He will?”

  The boy’s eyes were wide.

  “Yeah.” And Diesel would see to Auto. That fucker was going down. And if Clay comes here, I’ll kill him too.

  Triton pressed his fingers to his lips.

  “It’s going to be okay, come help me with dessert.”

  Triton kind of sort of took over and Diesel, amused, let him. It was much more interesting to watch Triton flit around his kitchen getting pie and whip cream served on small plates.

  The treat was damned good and he ate his before disappearing into his study for some alone time.

  Only, it was too damned quiet, so he ended up back out in the hallway listening for Triton.

  He stopped at the boy’s bedroom door and heard Triton talking to Molly and Cedar. Both had deserted him after the first day. He smirked and headed down to his bedroom at the back of the house and turned on the television. That was one of the benefits of living alone, he could have peace and quiet when he chose and go find entertainment when he wanted.

  He had plenty of people in his life, and when he wanted to, he could seek them out.

  Yet none of them had the soft lips of the boy in the next room. None of them made him feel protective enough to kill, and not one of them had ever made his cock so fucking hard he could pound nails with it.

  He turned the television volume on low, just in case Triton called out and needed him.

  Triton

  Diesel didn’t want anything to do with him. He couldn’t do anything right, his arm was useless, and Diesel was babysitting him.

  Ever since the kiss last week when he’d broken the glass, his words had become jumbled and stilted around Diesel.

  He rolled to his stomach on the bed.

  Cedar jumped up and purred. “Where’s your master?” he asked the cat.

  The big male bumped it’s head against his and purred. Triton chewed on his lip while he ran his fingers over the cat’s fur.

  Snagging his phone from the side table near the bed, he called Fraser.

  “Hey! I was so worried. I haven’t heard from you since the one text that said you were with Diesel and would call me,” Fraser hissed.

  Triton smiled. “Why didn’t you text me if you were worried?”

  “You were supposed to call me, ya brat.”

  Triton eased onto his side, and his smile died as he thought back to all that had gone on since leaving Fraser. “I had trouble at the train station.”

  “What?! Tell me.”

  “Clay must have traced my credit card purchase. Auto followed me to Oregon. He dragged me outside of the station. I think he was going to rape me,” he sniffled.

  “Oh, honey, that fucker,” Fraser whispered. “What happened?”

  “Some lady came out of the station and fired a shot gun at Auto, and he ran. They took me to the hospital.” He chewed his lip. “They called Diesel.” He filled Fraser in on Auto trying to kidnap him from the hospital and how Diesel and the sheriff, Memphis, had saved him.

  “Oh, my god. I can’t believe this is happening to you.”

  “I told you, I’m a shit magnet.”

  “Stop it,” Fraser snapped, and then said, “Is Auto still in town?”

  “I saw him outside of the doctor’s office last week, but nothing since.”

  “Oh shit.”

  “Yeah, so all I can do is pray that he leaves or the cops get him.”

  “Are you going to press charges?”

  “I don’t know.” He hadn’t thought that far ahead. If they arrested Auto, he’d have to press charges, wouldn’t he?

  “Are you kidding me? You better press charges as much as possible so that asshole pays for what he’s done to you.”

  “Diesel said what Auto did was sexual assault, but it could have been a lot worse. Thank god he’d never tried to blackmail me into fucking him.”

  “Well, the only reason he didn’t do that was because Clay would have killed him.”

  “True. Clay is much worse than Auto.”

  “But Clay isn’t there and Auto is. And they both assaulted you and need to pay. You need to press charges.”

  “I transported drugs for him,” he whispered.

  “By force!” Fraser hissed and then sighed. “Listen, honey, I’m about ready to start my shift. Call me later?”

  “I will.”

  “I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  He hung up after wishing Fraser a good night and rolled to his back to gaze up at the slow moving ceiling fan. The dark wood slats were a contrast to the whitewashed ceiling. He smiled. It was so peaceful here. Somewhere in the house, Diesel was talking on the phone, or maybe it was the television.

  His phone buzzed and he glanced at the text from an unknown number.

  You fucking sic’d your cousin on me? You piece of shit. As soon as Auto finds you? I’ll be on my way. To Oregon.

  With trembling fingers, he typed back the rapid reply.

  Stay away from me!

  Shit, shit! He gazed at his cell phone blankly, then jumped from the bed. Clay had used another phone because he’d blocked the bastard’s number.

  Finding paper and pen in the small desk drawer across his room, he wrote down several phone numbers, including Fraser’s, and then shot his friend a quick text.

  I have to ditch my phone. I’ll text you from a new one.

  Okay, stay safe.

  You too.

  It was a struggle, but he managed to get his shoes on and dragged a heavy sweatshirt of Diesel’s out of the closet. If he called to change his number, everyone would want to know why. If he lost his phone, he could just ask for a new number when he got a new one. Yeah, that sounded crazy, but his fucked up panic made it sound reasonable. He silently opened his bedroom door and crept across the hall. He heard Diesel still on the phone.

  Making his way to the back door, the clicking of Molly’s nails on the floor signaled she’d followed him. Perfect! He could take Molly to go potty. That wasn’t outside the norm.

  They reached the end of the fenceless backyard, and he took the path leading into the woods.

  Five minutes later, he was far enough out and threw his phone.

  Molly’s ears perked up and she ran after it.

  He called after her, “No, Molly! Let it go.” When she didn’t return, he took off after her. The rain had started, and he sighed. Just my luck. Rounding the small muddy path, he found Molly with his phone in her mouth. She brought it to him.

  He took it and held her collar while he tossed it into the bushes nearby.

  “Let’s go home.” He kept her from going after the phone again. Turning, the mud sucked at his feet and he slipped. Unable to catch himself
because of his wrist, he prepared to hit the mud almost face first, but Molly was suddenly under him, and he only got wet from his knees touching the ground. He struggled while she pushed, and he heaved while Molly balanced him, and was suddenly back on his feet.

  “Triton! Molly?” A shrill whistle hit the air and Molly pulled at her collar. He let her go to save himself from falling again. She bolted in the direction of the house.

  “Triton!” Diesel’s voice boomed in the woods.

  “I’m here.” He hobbled in the direction of Diesel’s voice before slipping and falling in the mud, this time on his ass, arms out. His tailbone hurt like hell. “Ouch!”

  “Goddamn it!” Diesel reached him, lifted him to his feet, and looked him over.

  “S-s-sorry.” His teeth chattered.

  Diesel said nothing, and then the world tipped when he was lifted and swung into a fireman carry over Diesel’s broad shoulder.

  “I’m getting you all muddy!”

  “Shut the hell up before I lose my temper.”

  His stomach turned sick. He was carried to the bathroom and gently set to his feet in the shower.

  “Please don’t hit me!” He covered his face, cowering on the shower floor, curling into a small little ball. When nothing but silence followed his words, he finally ventured a peek through his fingers.

  Diesel’s face was filled with sorrow and pain. “I’d never hit you. Ever. Hitting others is what fucking cowards do.”

  Triton gasped, he couldn’t help it. A man as big as Diesel could use his fists to get ahead in life, but he didn’t. He had too much integrity.

  How the hell had he forgotten that?

  “That you would think that of me makes me sad.”

  “I don’t. I’m sorry,” he sobbed, wiping at his cheeks, but making, he was sure of it, his face worse. “I don’t know why I said that.”

  “You said it because that’s what you’re used to. What you expect, and until you change your expectations, you’re always going to be expecting the worst.”

  “How do I change that?”

  “With help. I’d suggest Vince.”

  “Vince?”

  “Yep, Dr. Vince Van Patton, the psychiatrist Doc Parson suggested, but I figured you’re going to say you don’t need that.”