Deserted: Book #3, Auctioned Series

by Dee, Cara

  There was half a loft above them too, though Gray suspected it wouldn’t be used.

  “Tired,” Darius admitted. “I forgot how chatty Connor was.”

  She actually hadn’t been. She’d asked about their travels and shared a couple anecdotes about Darius and Ryan. But then, Darius considered it an interrogation if someone asked how he was doing.

  Gray could tell that Darius didn’t really know what to do. He stood there at the foot of his bed and stared at his duffel. Knowing Jayden would be done soon, Gray threw caution to the wind. His stomach churned with unease and nerves and wants and—fuck it all. He closed the distance between them, slipped a hand to the back of Darius’s neck, and reached up and covered his mouth with his own.

  Gray could’ve fuckin’ cried with relief.

  Darius was quick to lock his arms around Gray and pull him flush to his body. He deepened the kiss too. It was impossible for Gray not to feel the urgency, and it provided some comfort he sorely craved. Darius needed him. Thank fuck.

  Gray ran his fingers through Darius’s hair and angled his head, swirling his tongue around Darius’s.

  It was the sweetest reunion, and even though the hunger for more simmered below the surface, they slowed down the kiss at the same time. They wanted the same thing. Comfort, first and foremost. Closeness.

  Darius shuddered and tightened his hold on Gray, one hand sliding down to palm his ass. “I gotta have you next to me, knucklehead. I can’t let you go.”

  Gray swallowed dryly and felt a shiver run through him.

  Darius wasn’t done. He cradled Gray’s face in his hands and leveled him with a serious look. “I’ve formed attachments to people I’ve rescued before, but never like this. It’s never been about attraction. It’s never gone beyond wanting to protect innocence. Or shield it. No matter how obsessive I’ve been about it. You’re not like the others, Gray. You’re not like anyone.”

  Gray closed his eyes as the words settled in him. The words he’d needed more than anything. Fuck, it was indescribable. Neither one of them knew what the future would hold—no one ever did—but at least now, he wouldn’t have to worry about not measuring up in the present. He didn’t have to doubt Darius’s reasons. He didn’t have to wonder why.

  “Yo, Gray!” Jayden called. “I’m ready!”

  Gray leaned in and kissed Darius quickly. His heart rate hadn’t calmed down whatsoever. “I think Jayden won’t mind sleeping in his bed alone.”

  Darius smiled into another kiss. “Thank fuck. I want you in my arms.”

  The sheer joy that spiked inside Gray was almost too much. He managed a wobbly grin and averted his gaze before Darius could see how overwhelmed he was. He had to go to Jayden anyway. He cleared his throat and let out a breath, waiting for the heat to fade from his cheeks and for his eyes to stop stinging.

  Save us!

  Gray pushed through the thick darkness. His heart hammered against his rib cage, and the screams bounced between the…wherever he was. He couldn’t see.

  Find me.

  Jackie was sobbing.

  Please save me.

  “Hang on,” Gray croaked. “I’m on my way.”

  The cries grew louder and more desperate, each one slashing through Gray like the sharpest blade.

  He felt their agony. He lived and breathed it. It had his chest in a vise. He knew exactly the torture they were suffering. Rape, beatings, starvation, humiliation. He had to find them.

  Gray groaned and shoved at the oily dark that kept him from going anywhere. It was humid. He couldn’t breathe. The nothingness clung to him like a wet blanket, suffocating him and drowning him at the same time.

  He’d been waterboarded before.

  Help!

  He wanted to run toward Milo’s plea. He fucking tried.

  Shh.

  A cold breeze swept over him, and he stopped running. He panted. He gasped. He saw the flickers of brutal memories whizzing past like fireflies. One there, a quick flash, reminding him of the time he was dunked under ice-cold water, and then it was gone. Another flash. Showing the memory of when he got his face pressed against the inside of the crate he’d been trapped in. He remembered being called a filthy animal and a useless fuckhole. Everything reeked of piss and mildew. Nausea crawled higher up as he dragged his fingers through the film of slime that covered the boards. Old vomit. Water. Shit. The flash was gone.

  He heard himself gasp. A hoarse, choking sound.

  Dizziness threatened to pull him under, but he registered something else. The softest touch. Fingers brushing along his arms and shoulders. Combined with the crisp breeze, the sensations raised goose bumps across his upper body.

  Come back to me, knucklehead.

  Gray latched on to the voice and managed to wrench himself out of sleep.

  He sucked in a ragged breath, and his eyes flashed wide open.

  Darius was there right away. With a hand to Gray’s cheek, Darius made him look him in the eye without restraining him too much. He just knew what worked. He knew how easily Gray felt trapped.

  “You’re okay,” Darius whispered, forehead to forehead. “I’ve got you.”

  Gray gulped and nodded. He couldn’t just lie there. He had to sit up. He eased away and crawled over Darius’s body toward the open window. Darius must’ve opened it. The moon shone brightly and cast the cabin in a faint blue glow.

  These nightmares were going to be the death of Gray.

  Fuck.

  He swallowed against the dryness in his throat and leaned back against the wall, right next to the window. Then he scrubbed his hands over his face and waited for his pulse to calm down.

  “Talk to me.” Darius sat up too, and he gave the other bed a glance. Jayden was fast asleep, thank God. Gray didn’t want to upset him. “Tell me what you dream of. You were looking for Jackie.”

  Gray flinched and pulled his knees to his chest. “It’s everything. Most nights, it’s Milo, Jonas, and Jackie. Sometimes, the other guys we lost. Sometimes—just shit I went through before the yacht.”

  He cleared his throat and stifled a yawn. He was dead tired but knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep yet.

  “Pick one memory and tell me about it,” Darius coaxed. “We’ll get through this together.”

  Together.

  The word crashed into the loneliness he’d lived with for months after he got kidnapped. “We were cargo,” he heard himself whisper. He peered down at the duvet and ran his fingers over the striped pattern of the top sheet. “The torture was…I don’t know. Maybe those scars are bigger, but being stripped of your humanity—I don’t know how to shake that feeling. Like I’m useless.” He remembered a seminar he’d taken in college once. He’d recently begun his journey toward maybe one day working with children in one way or another, and he’d seen a poster for this professor coming to give a seminar about the ramifications of punishments on children. “When he asked the students what punishment they thought children suffered from the most, almost everyone said it was violence.”

  Fuck. It hit him that Darius had no clue what he was talking about.

  “I’ll explain—”

  “It’s okay. Just talk. Get the words out. That’s what’s most important right now.”

  Gray exhaled and felt weirdly grateful. He wasn’t sure if he could switch tracks. “It goes without saying that corporal punishment is bad. There’s a reason—or several—we don’t strike kids anymore. But looking back… I mean, we have generations of people… What I’m saying is, I think those scars can heal easier. And that’s what the professor was trying to get at. Even though abuse is abuse, there’s some abuse that’s worse, and I believe it’s neglect. Being forgotten, ignored, cast aside. That’s what makes you feel worthless.” He paused. “Kids who mess up to get attention don’t care about getting Dad’s belt. All they want is to be seen. It’s completely fucked up—but it’s proof, you know? From a young age, we’re willing to hurt in order for people to see us.” He rubbed his arm absently
, getting a bit chilly. But the cold was nice too. “Being waterboarded in front of an audience of kidnapped teenagers hurt. I panicked. I thought I was gonna die. I threw up water afterward and got sick.”

  He didn’t even remember the reason. It was… Damn. He remembered the burlap sack over his head. Maybe he’d acted out. Said the wrong thing. It didn’t matter.

  “I don’t need to process that as much, though,” Gray went on quietly. “Silent abuse is worse. It’s slow. It’s embedded in your core before you know it, and then it’s too late. At first, you don’t notice it. They ignore you, and you even prefer it because you don’t wanna talk to the motherfuckers. Then they start talking about you like you’re not there. You become an object.” Cargo. A shipment. “You lose your voice. Nothing you say matters. You don’t exist. You’re not worth anything. You’re alone.”

  Hatred flared up within him, because it was those monsters’ fault that Gray couldn’t go home. The loneliness was still firmly embedded in his marrow. His family would never understand, and it shoved him outside in the cold. In that respect, Gray would forever be the outcast.

  He shivered and glanced over his shoulder, then reached for the latch and closed the window. He was done with the cold. He wanted to feel warm.

  Darius was perfect for that.

  Gray slipped under the duvet and into Darius’s arms.

  Darius didn’t question anything and merely lay down and got comfortable. He pressed a kiss to Gray’s hair.

  “I don’t know how to talk to my mom and brothers,” Gray admitted softly. “I don’t know if I can sit down and have dinner with them and talk about the weather or the weekend’s game.”

  “Because you’re not there yet,” Darius murmured. “Give it time.” He hugged Gray to him a little tighter. “For the record, I think you’re right about neglect and dehumanization.”

  Gray hummed and drew his fingers slowly through Darius’s chest hair.

  He yawned.

  His mind had quieted down, at last.

  “You should text your mother tomorrow, though,” Darius said through a yawn of his own. “Be honest with her. From what I’ve learned about her, she wants to be there for you the way you need her. She doesn’t strike me as a person to make this about herself.”

  She definitely wasn’t. Gray was beyond lucky, which was why he felt so guilty. But Darius was right. Gray had to explain it to her.

  Darius kissed the side of his head. “Baby steps, yeah?”

  Gray nodded. “Baby steps.”

  “I like this.” Darius touched his cheek. “It’s a good look.”

  Gray raised a brow. What look? Toothpaste dribbling down his chin? He quirked a smile and bent over to rinse and wash his mouth. Then he straightened and grabbed a towel, wiping it over his face.

  “What, specifically?”

  “The stubble. You usually shave every day.”

  Because Gray couldn’t grow a proper beard. The stubble looked all right, but if he kept going, he’d come off as a pubescent teenager trying to grow some fuzz.

  “I’ll never be the hot mountain man you are, but…” He kissed Darius’s shoulder as he took his turn to brush his teeth.

  “Mountain man,” Darius snorted in amusement.

  Gray winked in the mirror before ducking out of the bathroom. He was in serious need of a shower, though that would have to wait until they got back from breakfast in town. Actually, with their plans and the showers being next to the gym in the main house’s basement, they’d probably work out first.

  After putting on a pair of jeans, a tee, and a hoodie, Gray walked over to Jayden’s bed and gently smoothed back the boy’s wild hair. “Jayden? Time to wake up.”

  Jayden grunted and threw an arm over his head.

  Gray chuckled under his breath and decided to give him a few more minutes. In the meantime, he emptied his own duffel before he filled it with laundry. They’d bring it to the main house when they returned.

  “We’re heading out for pancakes, buddy,” Gray said.

  “Ohh,” Jayden whined. “I like pancakes.”

  Gray grinned to himself. “I know you do.”

  There was some huffing and puffing coming from Jayden’s corner. Then he pushed back the duvet and sat up, his hair a complete mess. But fuck if he wasn’t the cutest sight ever. Squinting and making a grumpy face, he was an old man in the making at the tender age of eight. Darius should be proud.

  Jayden rubbed his eyes and yawned. He frowned hard and glanced around the room. Maybe he heard Darius in the bathroom. Next, his gaze landed on the other bed, and he scratched his shoulder.

  Gray grabbed a pair of sweatpants and a sweater for Jayden. The boy needed a shower too.

  Jayden crawled out of bed and stumbled over to Gray, and then he wrapped his arms around Gray’s midsection.

  “I wanna shank your nightmares,” Jayden mumbled.

  Oh hell. Gray ushered Jayden over to the nearest bed and picked him up to sit on his lap. “Do I wanna know how much you heard?”

  “Some.” Jayden shrugged and glanced around them. “I’m on your lap. I’m a big boy, you know.”

  Gray let out a soft laugh and slipped his hands under Jayden’s armpits. “Sorry. You can sit next—”

  “No. Quit it.” Jayden went stiff and refused to move. “S’long as you know. I’m a big boy.”

  “Of course.” Gray put on a serious expression. “You’re definitely a big boy.”

  Jayden nodded firmly and smoothed down his pajama shirt that’d ridden up, revealing his belly. “Can you tell Jonas to be nicer in your dreams? My brother was awesome. Your dream-Jonas is not the same.”

  “I know,” Gray murmured. “He was wonderful. I think I dream about him a lot because I wish I could’ve helped him better.”

  Jayden knitted his brows and nodded slowly. “But you did your best. Can’t do no more than your best. That’s impossible, Gray.”

  If only things were that easy.

  “Kid’s right.”

  Gray and Jayden looked up and found Darius watching them with his arms over his chest. The man needed to put on a shirt. Not that Gray minded having all that solidness, the ink, and even his scars on display. Darius was literally the most ruggedly beautiful man Gray had ever seen.

  “I get that it’s easier said than done,” Darius went on, “but it’s a step in the right direction. When you have nightmares, you’re at war with yourself—not the other boys. It’s your guilt speaking.”

  Gray was painfully aware.

  Darius went over to the table and snatched up an army-green tee. “You gotta tell yourself—in the mirror if that’s what it takes, over and over—that you’ve done everything you can. You tried your hardest to save Jonas. You’re doing everything you can to save Jackie. You did what you could to be there for Milo.”

  Gray didn’t wanna hear this, even though he knew he needed to. But he drew the line at involving Jayden any further, so he derailed it with a joke. “Did you pick up that pro-tip at therapy?”

  Darius seemed to get it, thankfully. “I did. And did I follow the advice? Fuck no. But I’ve also told you not to do what I did. That’s why I still have a shit-ton of baggage to unpack.”

  Gray couldn’t exactly argue. If he wanted to get better and reunite with his family, he had to do this properly.

  “Can we get pancakes first?” He tested a smile.

  “I think so,” Jayden interjected. “I’m starving.”

  Darius chuckled. “Yeah, let’s go get some fuel.”

  Nine

  Two days later, Gray had discovered one thing.

  Darius was the drill sergeant from hell.

  The downstairs gym, which was more of a gigantic fitness studio, had everything. With the length of the area being at least fifty feet, it was long enough for suicide runs—Darius’s favorite form of punishment. That, and burpees. The ropes used in CrossFit could suck Gray’s dick too. He was fucking spent.

  “I need a break.” Gray panted
and collapsed on the rubber carpeting that covered about half of the studio. “Holy shit.” The sweat was pouring off him, and his tee that he’d discarded and used to wipe his face the past hour was out of reach.

  Darius walked over and peered down at him. “When does the enemy attack?”

  Oh, for fuck’s sake. If Gray heard another quote from Murphy’s Laws of Combat, he’d flip his fucking lid.

  “When they’re ready,” he replied, breathing heavily.

  Darius hitched a brow. “And?”

  Dammit. “And when I’m not.”

  “Exactly.” Darius pointed toward another corner of the studio, the one where they’d been practicing martial arts. “Let’s go.”

  Gray grunted and jumped to his feet. “I checked out the laws online, by the way. I like the one that reads ‘Don’t go to bed with someone crazier than yourself.’”

  Darius laughed and threw him a bottle of water. “I guess you’re fucked, then.”

  Technically, no. The only times they were alone were when they worked out. Jayden was upstairs reading, which had been Darius’s task for him. A brilliant move, Gray had to admit. They’d picked up children’s books in town because, as Darius had said, the boy needed to get used to going to school. Reading and solving simple math problems was a great start. And Leah enjoyed watching him, not to mention spoiling him with homemade cookies.

  Either way, no getting fucked on the horizon for Gray. Anytime soon, at least.

  He wasn’t complaining, though. He felt better than he had in a long time, and taking the smallest of baby steps was working.

  “Any other rules you liked on the site?” Darius asked.

  Gray took a swig of his water while watching Darius put on a pair of padded gloves.

  “Yeah. ‘Military intelligence is a contradiction.’”

  Darius smirked. “You realize that smartass mouth of yours only gets you into more trouble, right?”