Deserted: Book #3, Auctioned Series

by Dee, Cara

  She laughed softly. “As if I could stand in the way of their grand plan at this point. You boys have fun, and tell Chloe I said hi.”

  Grand plan?

  She excused herself before Gray could ask, and he didn’t really have the time to push. They had a lot to get done. So, Gray got the boys ready, and then Darius drove them over to Mom and Aiden’s place. This was a crucial part of the plan, because if they were going with the man-cold route, Mom had to see Gray for herself first. Otherwise, she could come up to the cabin for an unannounced visit.

  “Are you gonna work, Darius?” Jayden asked.

  He nodded, which wasn’t the truth. He’d show his face at the restaurant and make a few changes in the schedule, and after that, he was gonna pick up some supplies for the trip. “I’ll see you tomorrow instead, yeah?” He held out his fist for Jayden, who bumped it with his own.

  After helping Justin out, Gray ducked into the car and gave Darius a quick kiss.

  “Have fun.”

  “See you soon,” Gray replied. “Call me if you need anything. I’ll borrow Gage’s truck to take the boys back later.”

  Darius nodded with a dip of his chin. “Text me, and I’ll come get you.”

  “Will do.”

  Justin was understandably shy at the prospect of meeting new people in a place he’d never been, even more so because Jayden hadn’t been there before either. Justin all but plastered himself to Gray’s leg, so he threw caution to the wind and picked up the boy.

  “There we go.” He booped Justin’s nose and was glad he seemed to relax. “I think you’ll like my mom. She makes the best cookies in the world.”

  Justin squinted with his smile and rubbed his belly.

  “You like cookies too? Then you’re in excellent company. My stepdad asks for cookies all the time, so she never leaves the house without something in the cupboards for him.”

  Jayden huffed. “The whole world likes cookies, Gray.”

  “All right, smartass.” Gray snorted in amusement and ushered him toward the house. His folks lived in a tiny neighborhood that wasn’t built on a cliffside, like most estates in Ponderosa. The cluster of five houses shared the space with a playground and a bike path leading to the nearby stores and post office. Gray liked it because Mom’s style shone through. She wanted nature right outside the door. She wanted green lawns, colorful flowers, and apple trees. And she got it, right here, with a pastel yellow house and dark-pink roses climbing the wooden porch. Or they did in the summer.

  Gray knocked on the door, then checked his watch. Yeah, Mom should be home. Aiden was definitely home, since he worked from his office upstairs, but Mom should be too. For the most part, she left the inn before the twins got out of school, and then she’d go back when they headed to practice. Unless she had finally hired someone to take that extra shift.

  The door opened, and shock flitted over Mom’s face before she gasped and smiled widely. “My goodness! Talk about the best surprise of the day.”

  Gray cut his smile short and pretended to sneeze into his elbow.

  “Tchoo,” Justin whispered.

  Too fucking cute.

  “Let’s get you boys out of the cold,” Mom urged. “You’re not getting sick, are you? It’s too early for pollen.”

  “Gage is allergic, not me,” Gray reminded. He dropped a kiss on her cheek as he passed her in the doorway. “I just wanted to stop by and say hey. You haven’t met Jayden yet—or Justin.”

  “No, and I’m delighted to do it right now.” Mom beamed. “Isla will be here with the babies in an hour, so luckily for you, I have two pies in the oven.”

  Gray poked Justin’s tummy. “We like pie, don’t we?”

  He grinned and nodded.

  “Let’s go sit in the kitchen,” Mom suggested.

  “Sure. Is Aiden home?” Gray hung up the boys’ jackets and faked a coughing fit.

  “Yes, but he’s struggling with a deadline, so I’m leaving him be.” Mom pursed her lips. “I don’t like the sound of that cough, sweetie. I’ll make you some tea instead of coffee.”

  “Okay.” Gray sniffled and smiled inwardly.

  Gray and Darius worked out together as soon as they got home, utilizing the front yard to come at each other over and over with swift kicks, punches, and grabs. Sweat soaked Gray’s clothes and he was tired as fuck, but he’d never felt more determined. Not to mention strong. It was the first time since last fall he actually felt fit again. Capable.

  “You’re getting much better,” Darius told him, snatching up his water bottle from the wooden railing on the porch. “You’re more confident.”

  “Thanks.” Gray bent over with his hands on his knees and breathed heavily. His breaths misted in the air. “Technically speaking, when do you think I’ll be able to beat you? Taking everything into consideration—age, fitness level, speed, experience.”

  Darius chugged some water and thought about his reply. “Depends. If you keep training like you do now…within a year, I’d guess. You’re fast as shit.”

  “A year.” Gray straightened and stretched his arms, then nodded. “I’ll keep that as a goal.”

  “I’ll probably always have more tricks up my sleeve than you will, but that’s about all I have.”

  Gray wouldn’t go that far. “What’re you talking about? You’re strong, solid, and fit.”

  “For my age.” Darius winked. “I’m strong for my age, I’m fit for my age, I’m solid for…actually, I’m plain solid. That ain’t going away. If anything, it’ll get worse. Beer nowadays…” He let out a low whistle. “Gotta watch my gut.” He patted his stomach.

  See, that crap, that kind of talk, only made Gray horny.

  “Can we fuck?” he asked. “I need a quickie.”

  Darius barked out a laugh and planted his ass on the porch steps. “If you’re thinking about screwing now, I haven’t pushed you nearly enough.”

  Gray jogged over to him. “Baby, I could be on my deathbed and still think about your cock.” He straddled Darius’s lap and kissed his smirk. “My sexy beast.”

  Darius’s hands found their way to Gray’s ass and gave it a hard squeeze. “Are you seducing me?”

  “Is it working?” Gray nipped at Darius’s bottom lip, hoping he’d cave. Working out with Darius was like foreplay. Sweaty, dirty, rough foreplay. They had mud and scratches all over, and it only fueled the urgency. It was too hot for words.

  He didn’t need a verbal response anymore. He could feel the effect he was having on Darius, and it sent a bolt of desire through him.

  They made out passionately, hungrily, both still coming down from their workout high.

  It would be such a waste not to crank up the savagery with some hot, animalistic fucking.

  “Fuckin’ hell,” Darius exhaled and wrenched away. “We gotta pack, knucklehead.” He gripped Gray’s chin and kissed him quickly. “Later tonight,” he promised. One more kiss. “Christ, those eyes of yours. Don’t look at me like that.”

  It was a small comfort, at least. It gave Gray an ego boost to see the desire so vividly.

  “Like what?” Gray smiled and nuzzled their noses together.

  It made Darius chuckle. “You’re goddamn adorable sometimes.”

  “Only sometimes?”

  “Mm.” Darius leaned in and gave him a slow, thorough kiss. “The other times, you’re sexy and fucking beautiful.” He drew a deep breath and hugged Gray tightly. “You have the ability to knock the air outta my lungs. That’s…new to me.”

  Gray shivered violently and shook his head. “You can’t say that crap and then deny me when I wanna worship every inch of your body.”

  Darius grinned and kissed Gray’s neck. “I thought you just wanted a quickie.”

  “Things change.” He palmed Darius’s cheeks and gently rested their foreheads together. “You have that ability too. You own me.” He screwed his eyes shut the second those words slipped out, and he was catapulted back in time to when he was dropped on a carpet blo
tchy with blood, tears, and semen. A time when his body had a price tag.

  “Stay with me, knucklehead.” Darius pushed back Gray’s hair and cupped the back of his neck. “It was the ownership thing, eh?”

  Gray sucked in a breath and nodded jerkily. His heart went from calm to pounding in a second, and he cursed himself. Why would he go there? Why did he say something like that?

  “Focus on your breathing,” Darius directed. “And don’t let dead sons’a bitches dictate the romantic shit we say to each other.”

  Gray choked on a strangled laugh and felt his eyes well up. The crushing weight of the anxiety mixing with a wave of humor threatened to short-circuit his damn brain. Tears rolled down his cheeks, and he whimpered and grinned at the same time.

  “I’m right, aren’t I?” Darius wiped the tears away. “Steady breaths, baby. In…out.”

  Gray nodded and drew in a deep breath, then let it out slowly.

  Romantic shit…

  Darius was the best at this, that was for fucking certain. He could use comedy, he could use breathing exercises, he could use tough love—he adapted the approach to the person who needed him.

  After a couple minutes of deep breaths and Darius’s soft touches, Gray felt better.

  And so tired.

  “We need to get some dinner and a good night’s sleep, but first, I gotta grab something.” Darius made a move to stand, so Gray left his lap and brushed some dried mud off his hands. “You wanna come with?”

  “Sure.”

  Darius took the lead to the back of the cabin—or not. He kept going, toward the toolshed. He opened the door and went straight to a hatch in the floor that Gray hadn’t noticed before.

  “Don’t tell me you have a bunker,” Gray blurted out.

  “No, I hit rock in every direction when I tried to expand, but that’s okay.”

  Gray scratched his head and peered down at the hole Darius climbed into. It wasn’t a bunker, he guessed. It was a very small cellar, maybe a hundred square feet at the most. Walls and floor seemed to be made out of concrete, including the island of sorts in the middle. Admittedly curious, Gray climbed down the stepladder too, and his feet hit the ground just as rows upon rows of spotlights came on.

  “Whoa.” Gray stared. He was surrounded by shelves, and not a single one was empty. Though, this time, it wasn’t flour and canned goods. One wall was reserved for knives and guns in different shapes and sizes. Another wall had tents, sleeping bags, camping mats, lanterns, rope, and backpacks. Everything came in the colors of nature. Army green, desert sand, snow white, and brown. There were four metal boxes on one shelf, all labeled with the same three letters. “What does MRE mean?”

  “Meal, ready-to-eat.” Darius grabbed two backpacks off a shelf and placed them on the concrete island in the middle. Which turned out not to be only concrete. It was just the top. The whole thing was a safe. “Ammo,” he explained. “We’re not bringing any. I’ll grab one of my everyday carrys from the cabin, but that’s just as a precaution.”

  That made sense. Bullets were leads for the authorities. Plus, easier to rule out suicide if a gunshot hit the wrong angle by a millimeter.

  Gray picked up the most insane knowledge from Darius.

  If he’d known about this, that this was how his life would turn out, before last fall…?

  Jesus Christ.

  “Are you freaked out?” Darius side-eyed him with a slight twist of his mouth.

  “Not as much as I should be,” Gray joked. “I don’t know. I guess, if you have a bunch of canned goods to protect, you gotta be able to defend it with something.”

  Darius laughed through his nose and went to grab two sleeping bags. “The principle’s legit, but almost everything down here is from my years in the field.” He nodded toward the shelves with knives. “Go pick two. You need a combat knife and a folder.”

  It was mildly intimidating. They’d only practiced with dull training knives so far. “I’m gonna need your help. You don’t want me to end up with a knife meant to fillet fish.”

  Darius chuckled and walked over. “These are all tactical.” He gestured at one section, then nodded at another. “With the folding knives, you’re gonna want one you think is easy to open and close. Just—have at it. Try ’em out.”

  Try ’em out.

  Sure thing.

  Gray wasn’t completely useless about all this anymore, but shit had just gotten real. It wasn’t for practice this time.

  Meanwhile, Darius went back to packing their bags. Gray kept him in the corner of his eye and saw everything from rope and flashlights to meal bars and multitools. Darius managed to pack a crapload of stuff into bags that weren’t very big. They were smaller than regular packs for camping, but larger than daypacks.

  “Where are we stopping to rent ATVs?” Gray asked, studying one of the knives.

  “We’re not. I have one. We’ll load it onto the truck before we go,” Darius replied. “It’s big enough for both of us.”

  Gray turned to him. “What about Jackie?”

  “It depends on the shape he’s in,” he replied, frowning to himself. He was still working on the details, Gray could tell. More than one thing depended on Jackie. “The absolute best-case scenario is if we get in there, free him, arrange Warren’s suicide, then leave. And Jackie will wait half a day before calling the cops, saying he’s managed to escape. At which point, we’re halfway home already.”

  Sounded more like too good to be true… “How many of those scenarios have you been through?”

  Darius blew out a breath and squinted. “Let’s see. There was that one time in my imagination…”

  Gray let out a laugh, and Darius quirked a wry grin.

  Then he tossed a couple power banks into a bag and said, “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there. Did you find any knives?”

  “Um, yeah.” Gray carried them over to the island. “Can I ask why you’re showing me this warrior stash today?”

  “I wanted you to see it.” Darius grunted as he jammed a medical kit into one of the bags. “In the wrong hands, it can do more harm than good, but I hope you trust me by now. And this, all this… I don’t know. I suppose I wanted you to see for yourself that I have what it takes to protect your freedom, especially when your flashbacks make you doubt it’s yours.”

  I love you.

  Gray smashed his lips together before the words tumbled out of him.

  It didn’t feel like the right moment, when they were gearing up to go kill someone, but dammit if he didn’t want to tell Darius that he was so fucking in love with him.

  Eighteen

  By five in the morning the following day, Gray and Darius had Camassia Cove in their rearview.

  The heavy-duty truck was loaded with survivalist gear, one ATV, and food. Stops would be avoided on the way down, including a night in a hotel. They’d find a campsite along the way and get some rest. But one way or another, they had approximately thirty hours to make it to Southern California, effectively eliminating the option of taking it easy. They’d drive in shifts and stop to stretch, basically.

  It was Wednesday, and the clock was ticking.

  Willow had checked Warren’s schedule and made sure he was working tomorrow, meaning he wouldn’t be making a quick trip to see Jackie today. She was ready to cause technical issues with his car if he got any ideas.

  Gray yawned and took a sip of his coffee. He’d set up a spread on the wide console between the seats, complete with coffee in a thermos, sandwiches, and cinnamon roll bites. And on the floor of the back seat were two coolers of food that would keep them out of any restaurants along the way.

  Both a time-saver and a way to ensure they didn’t end up on any unnecessary surveillance footage. It was enough that they’d have to stop for gas a few times. It was a gas guzzler of a truck.

  “I’m not letting you make breakfast again when we get home.” Darius dipped into the bag of cinnamon roll bites and grabbed a couple pieces. “This shit’s danger
ous.”

  Gray grinned lazily and put up one foot on the glove box. “I like feeding my beast.”

  “That beast of yours likes to be able to walk too,” he muttered.

  Gray chuckled. “But you’re smoking less, aren’t you? It feels like it.”

  Darius nodded with a dip of his chin. “I’m doing that thing I swore never to do.”

  “What, try not to get cancer?”

  “Yup.” Darius brushed some sugar off his fingers on his jeans. “A couple weeks ago when we worked out in the yard, you were doing squats. I counted them—twenty in each set—and I figured you’d rest in between like a normal person. But nah. That’s when you started doing backflips right where you stood.” He scratched his scruffy jaw while Gray cracked up. “You could say it put shit in perspective.”

  Gray reached over and squeezed Darius’s leg. “I love that you’re trying. It means a lot to me. I wanna keep you around for a long time.”

  Darius caught Gray’s hand and kissed his knuckles.

  “You know what we gotta do when we get home?” Gray asked. He checked the rearview before he switched lanes to pass a band of trucks carrying lumber. “It starts with T and ends with omatoes.”

  Darius smiled drowsily and clasped his hands over his stomach. “Finally. I’ll need a couple weeks to finish the greenhouse.”

  “That’s fine. We’ll plant the seeds indoors first.” Gray had studied Darius’s plans for the property, and the empty half across the stream would be filled with crops. A greenhouse would take up about a third of the area, leaving enough space for produce like potatoes, carrots, and some other stuff. The greenhouse would essentially be reserved for temperature-sensitive plants and crops that grew aboveground. And there was a reason Gray had checked out Darius’s notes… “Speaking of, you have a birthday coming up soon.”

  Darius furrowed his brow. “Who told you that?”

  Willow. “That’s confidential.”

  Darius snorted.

  If this was his reaction now, wait till Gray got to celebrate him properly. He wanted to go all out, and he’d already come up with a theme for the gifts. But for one of them, he sort of needed permission.