Deep Down (Crush Book 4)

by Elouise East

  “Actually,” Alex bit his lip. “Could I borrow your shower first?”

  Casey chuckled. “Sure. Use the bathroom in the spare room. Take your time. I’ll shout you when the takeaway is here.”

  “Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”

  Casey clutched his shoulder and squeezed. “Any time. You know that.” And he zipped away, leaving Alex to stumble down the hallway.

  Alex wanted nothing more than to sink onto the bed and sleep, but he wouldn’t mess up the sheets. Instead, he headed for the bathroom, beer bottle in hand. Placing the bottle on the cistern, he stripped and switched the shower on as hot as it would go, groaning in relief when he stepped in, and the heat relaxed his muscles. He stood there for a short time, the water beating down on his shoulders and upper back, then lifted his head to wet it. He gripped the shampoo and washed the smell of the hospital out of his hair and off his skin. Nobody but those who spent any length of time in a hospital understood what it felt like to wash it all away after leaving.

  When Alex felt more human, he switched off the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist, downing some more beer before drying his hair. He exited the bathroom and searched in his bag for a change of clothes, pulling on the comfortable joggers and t-shirt and leaving his feet bare. Hanging up the towels on the heated towel rails back in the bathroom, he strode to the front of the apartment, meeting Casey coming down the hallway.

  “Ah, I was coming to get you. Takeaway’s here.” Casey pointed over his shoulder towards the kitchen.

  “Brilliant. I’m starving.”

  They helped themselves to some food and got situated on the sofa in the living room. Casey flicked an action movie on low before shifting towards Alex, curling one leg beneath him.

  “So, what’s up?” he asked before taking a mouthful.

  Alex wasn’t sure where to start. He stared at his plate for a few moments. “I fucked up.”

  His declaration had Casey lowering his plate to rest on his legs. “What do you mean?”

  Alex sighed. “I attended to a patient in A&E three nights ago who had a dislocated shoulder, a black eye and bruising to his lower back. I was told he’d been mugged the night before.” Alex ground his teeth as his pulse sped up and muscles clenched at the thought of that Darren guy. “My instincts were telling me something wasn’t right. While we were waiting for him to be sent for an X-ray, I figured out he acted like someone who was being abused.”

  “Fuck.” Casey rubbed a hand over his newly close-shaven hair. “What happened?”

  Alex took a deep breath, food thoroughly forgotten now. “I flagged his file. When they came to take him to X-ray, I was notified and went with him, persuading his partner to stay behind in the treatment room.”

  “Okay. All sounds right so far. But I have a feeling there’s more to it.”

  Alex nodded slowly. “Yeah. I paused on the way back to his room and asked the guy outright if his partner was abusing him. After a brief hesitation, he said no.”

  “Alright…?” Casey appeared confused. “How did you fuck up?”

  He rubbed a hand across his mouth. “I made a house call.”

  Casey said nothing, then leaned forward to practically dropped his plate, hard, on the coffee table. “What the fuck, Alex?”

  Alex shifted towards Casey, ready to plead his case. “I know, Casey! But my instincts are blaring to life with this guy. Everything I saw points in that direction, despite him denying it. I didn’t know what else to do.”

  “Did you flag it on the system?” Casey stared at him, dumbfounded.

  “Yeah.” Alex deflated.

  “Fuck.” Casey exhaled loudly. “What happened? At the house call?”

  “He wasn’t wearing his fucking sling for starters!” Alex threw his hands in the air.

  “That’s beside the point, Alex. ‘Fess up.”

  “Damn it!” Alex inhaled roughly. “Okay, the guy remembered me from the hospital and let me check him over. His demeanour was better, but there were signs of violence in the house that I couldn’t deny.”

  “Like what?”

  “A fist-sized hole in a wall in the front room, a crack in the plaster and a spotless house.”

  Casey frowned. “They could easily be explained away, Alex.”

  “Maybe, but put it together with the guy’s reactions—”

  “What’s the guy’s name?” Casey interrupted.

  “What? Oh, Craig.”

  Casey waved him on. “Carry on.”

  “Put it together with Craig appearing to check with his boyfriend before answering my questions and panicking when he saw how long he’d not been working for when I visited—he works from home—and the hesitation in answering any question. It added up to me.” Alex sighed again. “I don’t know, I could be wrong.” Alex stared at his plate, frowning.

  Casey rested his hand on Alex’s arm. “Alex, look at me.” He waited until Alex had. “Have your instincts ever proved you wrong so far?”

  Alex thought back over the times he could remember. “No.” He had no doubt.

  “I trust you. If you say this guy is being abused, then he’s being abused. But what are you going to do about it?”

  “I have no idea.” Alex shook his head and shrugged. “The hospital is not going to take too kindly to the fact I made a house call when it wasn’t my place.”

  “True.” Casey nodded.

  “But I think about what he could be suffering and question whether I should quit being selfish by thinking about myself and admit to it so he can be helped.” Alex used his fork to push food around on his plate as he stared at it. He dropped the fork back down. “I don’t know what the hell to do, Casey.” He leaned forward to put his plate on the table, rested his forearms on his knees and dropped his head.

  “Something else is bothering you, Alex. What is it?” A warm hand came to rest on Alex’s neck.

  “He seemed full of life, so animated when we talked about his job. He loves what he does, has a passion for it, and it showed in his face.” He paused, remembering Craig’s expression when he saw the clock. “The fear that crossed his face when he saw the time.” Alex shook his head and focused on Casey. “No one should have an expression like that. Especially not him.”

  They stared at each other before Casey spoke quietly. “You like him.”

  Alex frowned at him. “What?”

  “You like him. Craig. That’s why this is hitting you hard.” Casey sat back. “I’ve seen you deal with other abuse cases with the detachment needed. But this one? It’s on the verge of being personal.”

  “Don’t be stupid, Casey. I don’t have feelings for him.” But even to his ears, his words sounded flat.

  They were quiet for a few minutes. “Come on, finish your food. You can sleep in the spare room tonight.” Casey leaned back and retrieved his plate, tucking back into the food.

  Alex sighed. “Thanks.”

  “No problem.” Casey paused. “We’ll work it out, Alex. We’ll help him if he allows us. Alright?”

  Alex nodded, emotion clogging his throat. If he allows us. Yeah, that was the problem, wasn’t it?

  Chapter 5

  Craig

  Craig startled awake to a hand wrapped around his cock and fingers pushing into his ass. Darren must have used lube because it didn’t hurt; it was merely unexpected. Craig was laid on his back, exposed, but more than ready to go, especially after the dream he’d been having. Not that he could remember exactly what it was about because of his sharp awakening, but he could remember the warm feelings of it.

  “That’s it, babe. Take my fingers. You’ll soon be ready for me.” Darren’s gruff tone made Craig smile. He loved how caveman Darren sounded in the bedroom. He thrust his hips upwards, trying to get more friction in Darren’s light hold. “Ah, ah, ah. Wait for it.” Darren kneeled in between Craig’s legs, his body looming over him.

  Craig pushed his head back into the pillow as Darren penetrated him with more fingers, moving them in and
out, grazing slightly across his prostate, but not enough to spark a fuse.

  “That’s it.” Darren increased his speed and gripped Craig’s shaft tighter, not moving his hand. “Right, hold there, sweetheart.”

  Craig whimpered as Darren let go of his cock and removed his fingers, the emptiness painful. “Darr—"

  “Wait, I said!” Darren’s bark preceded his blunt intrusion, and Craig attempted to lay stationary in acceptance when all he wanted to do was move away from the size of the cock. This happened every time they had sex—for the first few seconds, Craig doubted if Darren would fit and instinctively moved away, to Darren’s annoyance. Craig had learned to ignore his body’s instincts. Once Darren was inside him, everything changed and became enjoyable again; it was the initial penetration that hurt, no matter how generous the amount of lube was used.

  When Darren retreated and entered him again and again, the pleasure climbed. Arousal flooded his body, and he felt on the edge within seconds.

  “Fuck, Craig. You’re always tight. But nobody takes my cock like you do.” Darren grunted with every thrust. “You like it, you little slut. You like me fucking you until you can’t move?”

  Craig didn’t reply, knowing it was a rhetorical question. He bit his lip to contain his pleading but let his moans flow free. Darren wouldn’t listen to his words, only his actions, so Craig lifted his hips in time with Darren’s movements.

  “Yeah, you want it. That’s it. Fuck me back, slut that you are.”

  Darren lifted one of Craig’s legs and pushed Craig over onto his side, pushing Craig’s closed knees closer to his chest before Darren rested his hands either side of Craig’s torso. Position changed, Darren thrust harder, Craig’s hole exposed in a different way but one which allowed Darren to move further inside him.

  “Fuck, yeah. There we go. Ah, shit. I love how you take every fucking inch of me.” Darren’s hips pistoned faster and harder.

  Craig’s arousal had dimmed with the initial change of position, but once Darren hit his prostate with every thrust, he was gone. Come streamed from his cock, and his muscles tensed. Darren grunted and thrust one final time, staying fully inside as he flooded Craig.

  Darren rested his forehead against Craig’s shoulder as their breathing calmed. Craig winced and hissed when Darren retreated, Craig’s ass sore and swollen from use. He smothered a grimace when Darren slapped his ass and smoothed a finger over his hole.

  “God, I love seeing my come dribbling out of you. I should take a photo or a video so I can see it whenever I want.” Darren pushed his finger inside Craig and removed it, smearing more around his crack. “Beautiful.” One more slap and Darren moved away.

  Craig laid there, knowing the minute he moved, his body would protest, but knowing he had to get clean—apart from his ass. Darren would want it left as it was, dribbling come and all. At least until they woke up in the morning and Darren had gone another round with Craig. It was Darren’s usual routine if they’d had sex in the middle of the night.

  ****

  Craig managed to get ahead with his new project, which made up for the late finish on his previous job. It was more to do with snacking at his desk yet signing himself out for half an hour—not that he’d tell Darren, of course.

  He tried to avoid his thoughts drifting to Alex, though he didn’t have control all the time. Occasionally, he found himself staring into space, recounting their meetings before becoming aware of it. He was still confused as to why Alex thought Darren was abusing him. Craig had none of the signs of domestic abuse. Why would Alex think that?

  He wasn’t being controlled by Darren. Darren left for work every day and didn’t lock Craig in the house with no way to get out. He allowed Craig to do his job and didn’t curtail what Craig needed to do for it. Craig was allowed to socialise, he simply preferred not to. Darren became jealous when Craig was shown admiration, but to Craig, it was part of being in a relationship; he was jealous when Darren was hit on. As for his injuries, that was Darren’s temper reaching boiling point. It was Craig’s job to help Darren control it. If Darren hurt Craig, it was because Craig was not doing his best to help Darren.

  As far as Craig was concerned, there were no red flags waving his way.

  He cooked the beef chow mein ready for dinner at five as Darren had requested and had added the noodles to the boiling water when the front door slammed. Craig tensed.

  “Did you think you could fucking hide it from me?” Darren’s angry words whipped across the kitchen, and Craig knocked the pan, spilling boiling water over his hand.

  Craig bit his lip as pain flared through the top of his right hand; he immediately went towards the sink to hold it under cold water but was seized from behind and shoved face-first into the pantry door. Face pressed against the cork noticeboard, his eyes tried to track what Darren was doing, but the pain in his hand was blurring his vision, although he blinked rapidly to dispel any moisture before Darren could see it.

  “So, everything went according to plan on Thursday, did it? That’s what you told me.” Darren’s mouth was close to his ear, spit hitting and dripping down Craig’s cheek. “Nothing to tell me? Nothing special happened? No?” Darren pulled him back from the door by his t-shirt and threw him through the kitchen doorway into the living room.

  He lost his balance immediately and slid across the floor before crashing into the side table; the lamp wobbled but stayed upright. Craig could hardly think; the pain in his hand and now his shoulder and back injuries flaring up again, having not properly healed from last week yet, made it difficult for him to concentrate.

  Darren’s black trainers came into view, heels lifting away from the floor as he dropped closer to Craig’s position. “What happened on Thursday, Craig?” The words whipped across the silence of the house.

  Craig lifted his gaze to Darren, trying to figure out what answer Darren wanted as he had no idea what…Comprehension dawned, and he tried to keep his reaction from showing on his face. Fuck! The doctor. He didn’t know why he couldn’t tell Darren what had happened, but as soon as he’d lied on Thursday and said nothing had happened, he knew he could never admit something had.

  Dr Wick would get into trouble, possibly lose his job if Darren complained about him—which he would—but Darren would be pissed Craig had lied to him. There was something inside Craig telling him to keep quiet, no matter the consequences. And it was those instincts that he always listened to; they had saved him many times in the past five years.

  He obviously hadn’t replied fast enough because Darren took hold of the front of his t-shirt and dragged him vertical, holding their faces close together. “What the fuck did you do for over an hour on Thursday? Did you think I wouldn’t find out?” Darren tilted his head. “You fucking someone behind my back?”

  Craig shook his head, vehemently.

  “You don’t need me anymore. Is that what this is about? Found yourself a sugar daddy?” Sweat poured off Darren’s skin as he panted.

  Ignoring the pain, Craig rested his hands on Darren’s, which were tightly clenched around his clothes, trying to soothe him. “No. I’m not! I promise! There is only you, Darren!” He lifted his hand to rest it against Darren’s cheek but was slapped away and pushed back into the corner of the wall. He winced as the sharp surface pressed into his six-day-old bruises but didn’t make a sound, a sure-fire way to get Darren more pissed off.

  Darren wrapped a hand around Craig’s neck, holding him in place, forcing Craig to stand on tiptoes to keep air circulating through his system. He left his arms loosely by his sides, knowing there was no point in trying to pull Darren off.

  “What did you do? Fucking tell me!” Darren’s face was beet-red, the vein on his forehead pulsed and his nostrils flared.

  Craig took a short breath before speaking. “I was ill.”

  “Bullshit!”

  Now Craig had chosen the lie, he had to stick by it no matter what. If he changed his story, Darren would be angrier than ever. “I was! I was sic
k!”

  “I don’t believe a single word you’re saying, you little shithead!” The hand which held Craig’s throat tightened slightly before throwing him away from the wall towards the centre of the room, luckily missing the coffee table. He landed in a heap on the rug and rolled to his back, coughing roughly. “I think you’re cheating on me. You had some hanky-panky while I was at work, slaving away to make sure we have enough money to pay the bills. And there you are, not pulling your weight and doing your job like you should be. You’re fucking some other guy.”

  Craig shook his head from his place on the floor. “No!” he rasped.

  “Well, I hope he was worth it.” Darren stalked towards him, lifted him by his t-shirt again and dragged him across the room towards the hallway.

  Craig tripped over the corner of the rug, which pulled him free from Darren’s grasp, falling forward. He lifted his hands to break his fall, but his forehead hit something on the way down. Then there was black.

  Chapter 6

  Alex

  When Alex had received the phone call saying Craig had been admitted to hospital unconscious from a head injury, his heart had skipped several beats, and he’d ceased breathing for a few seconds. He’d told the nurse he’d be there in ten minutes to take over from whoever was dealing with Craig, despite it being his day off. If they’d had enough time to read Craig’s file, they would know Alex’s concerns and wouldn’t fight him on it. He hadn’t been dressed for work per se, but he’d be fine with his white coat over the top. Not bothering to stop to get changed, he picked up his wallet, phone and keys, and ran. His ID card was in his pocket as always; therefore, that wasn’t an issue.

  Alex was glad Darren hadn’t waited before calling the ambulance, and Craig had been brought in straight away after the injury. Entering the hospital room and seeing Craig unconscious with machines all around him, had Alex clenching his jaw against the things he genuinely wanted to say to Darren.

  Alex politely asked Darren what had happened while he checked over what the previous doctor had done—not because he didn’t trust the doctor, but because he wanted to know what had been done—and Darren explained he’d been giving Craig a personal training session as they did every weekend. He said Craig had asked for Darren to prepare him in case he was mugged again. They’d agreed to work on getting free from a headlock. They were struggling around the room, and they’d tripped on the rumpled rug and fell forward, Craig hitting the side table as they went down. Alex asked about Craig’s hand injury, but Darren said he’d done that earlier in the day while Darren had been out.