by Atlas, Lilly
How in such a short time, he’d come to require not one but two people’s presence in his life, he’d never know, but he was done questioning it. Done trying to return the gift life had given him.
“She’s hurt?” Jeremy asked.
Screw laughed as disbelief washed through him. Was the fucker for real? “Seriously? You’re worried about her now? You stashed weapons at her house, you ratted out her friends at a CDMC party, and you blew up her fucking place of business. Yesterday you told me you hoped her psycho stepbrother cut her to bits. But you’re worried she got hur—oh, wait a minute.” Screw snapped his fingers as the light bulb went off.
“You really did want in her panties, didn’t you? I guess Gumby was wrong. Gotta admit, he was convincing. I started to wonder if you’d been after me. But you wanted the girl after all. That why you were always doing shit like shoveling her driveway?” He laughed again. “Cute, Jeremy, really cute.” He circled behind the chair they’d positioned the bastard in, bent down, and spoke at the man’s ear while keeping his gaze on Gumby. “The thing is, asshole, you never stood a chance of getting with Jazz. She doesn’t want a pathetic little boy. She wants a man. Which is what she has.” He fisted Jeremy’s hair again, this time turning him to face Gumby. “You’ve met, Gumby. The sexy fucker over there with the glasses. Well, when we’re done here, he and I are gonna take Jazz home. To my house. And we’re gonna fuck her. And we’re gonna fuck each other. Then the three of us? Well, we’re gonna live happily fucking ever after. And you? Well, you’re gonna die, Jeremy.”
Dropping Jeremy’s head, he circled around front again, gripping the arms of the chair. He shook the thing, making Jeremy groan as his battered body jostled and banged against the chair’s metal frame.
“There’s just one thing left to decide, Jer. Hey, look at me.” He smacked Jeremy’s face again with a sharp open-palmed slap. The wannabe’s head rolled across his shoulders, but he managed to keep his bruised eyes open. “You wanna go out quick, or slow with a ton of fucking pain? Now, personally I’d like to be the one to decide, but I’m actually in a pretty good mood. Probably because of all that fucking I told you I was gonna get to later. So I’ll let you pick. Quick and painless—relatively speaking, or slow, sweet, torture?”
Jeremy mumbled, “Quick.”
“Well that’s no fun for me, but all right.” He blew out an exaggerated sigh. Chances were, he was getting too much enjoyment out of torturing the guy. It couldn’t be healthy, but that was the beauty of the box. Down here, Screw and his club could exact revenge, rid the world of filth, and watch the evidence slide down the large drain in the center of the room. Then he could walk up the stairs and emerge into the light, leaving the darkness where it belonged. In a ten by ten room under the ground.
“Now that we got that out of the way, I’ll ask you one more time. Did the Chrome Disciples sanction the hit on the diner?” He asked the question slowly as though speaking to a child.
“No.”
“Huh? What was that?”
“No,” Jeremy muttered.
“Gonna need you to expand on that answer, Jer.”
“Water?”
“What’d you say? You need some water? Sure, that’s no problem.”
Screw motioned to Gumby who picked up on his intention immediately. At first, it freaked him out how in tune they were, but now their near ability to read each other’s minds was a comfort. Gumby walked over, handing Screw the end of the hose. Then he returned to his spot near the wall and cranked the spigot all the way.
With a grin that probably made him look like a madman, Screw pressed down on the stream with his thumb. He aimed it at Jeremy, hitting the guy in the face at full blast with the icy spray.
Jeremy sputtered and flopped around in the chair like a fish on land. When he nearly fell on the ground, choking and coughing, Screw nodded to Gumby who cut the water.
“Better?”
Jeremy didn’t answer, he was too busy spitting bloody water from his lungs.
Finally, he said, “The club lost a shitload of money this week. Their gun shipment was fucked and never got delivered. Blade is freaking the fuck out. They got all these guns and no one to move ’em. So I offered to store a bunch in Jazz’s shed.” He groaned through a mirthless laugh. “She’s lived there almost a year and a half. Been out to that damn shed one time.” He closed his eyes and shifted; face contorted in misery.
“Keep talking.”
Jeremy spit a bloody wad of phlegm on the ground. “When the guns disappeared, Crank kicked my ass out and set my fucking cut on fire.” Jeremy lifted his head and even through the mess of his face, his absolute hatred of anything Hell’s Handlers came blazing through.
“So you decided to hurt us.”
“Fuck, yes.” It was then Jeremy seemed to realize he’d never leave that room. His last moments would be spent with four men he despised. He grinned, cracked and swollen lips curling in a grotesque sneer. Hell, even his teeth were caked in red. “I really thought the place was empty. Didn’t mean to kill anyone. But when I heard Viper died?”
Jeremy’s grin spread and Screw reacted before he even realized what he was doing. He sped forward, jammed the gun against the left side of Jeremy’s chest and turned until he found Gumby’s gaze.
“I was so fucking ha—”
BOOM.
Screw never once looked away from Gumby. After he fired the weapon, Gumby stepped forward and held out a hand. He let the gun fall to the ground, confident his prez and VP would take care of the clean-up. He had one goal in mind as he took Gumby’s hand.
“Let’s get our girl and take her home,” Gumby said, right before kissing him.
He sank into the kiss, pouring all his grief, rage and now, relief into the man he loved.
“You did good,” Gumby eventually whispered against his lips.
Screw pressed his forehead to Gumby’s as he nodded.
Hand in hand, they walked up the stairs and out into the light of day, leaving the horror and gore behind.
After a quick change of clothes and a wash-up, they found Jazz upstairs in Screw’s room, dozing on his bed. Fuck, she looked so small and fragile there with bulky bandages reminding him of how close he’d come to losing her.
How close they’d come.
Gumby squeezed his hand as though reading his mind once again.
Jazz’s eyes fluttered open and a smile appeared but fell a second later. “Is it done?”
They hadn’t spoken with Jazz about what would be happening today, but she was nobody’s fool.
“It’s done.”
Her eyes fell shut and she breathed out. “Good.” With no more than a slight wince—though it was still too much for Screw—she hoisted herself to the edge of the bed then walked to them. “Take me home,” she said, tilting her face up.
They both obliged her, Gumby kissing her first, then Screw.
“Love you guys,” she whispered, wrapping her thin arms around them as best she could.
“Love you, Jazzy,” Gumby said.
“What he said.” Screw tilted his head in Gumby’s direction, making Jazz beam with happiness.
Their lives were far from perfect. In fact, they were pretty fucking messy right then. Gumby lived and worked across the country, Jazz’s place of business was in ruins, the club had a formidable enemy still on the hook, and one of their own had just been lost.
If ever there was a time to fall apart, this was it. But there, with the three of them wrapped up in each other, Screw was happy.
He felt excited. Ready to take on the future.
He felt home.
He felt loved.
EPILOGUE
THREE MONTHS LATER
Screw watched the tall man walking toward him with so much anticipation, he could barely keep from dashing forward and tackling him right there. Instead, he leaned a hip against his truck and gave Gumby his best come hither look.
Damn, his man looked good. Tall with jeans not too tight not
too loose. They probably made his ass look spectacular. In fact…
“Hey, you!” Screw shouted. “Tall guy with the sexy glasses.”
Gumby smirked, then stopped walking. “Me?” he asked, holding a hand to his chest as he looked around. “You talking to me?”
Ohh, this is fun.
Gumby was still a good thirty feet from him. “Yeah, you. Could you maybe turn around, bend over a bit?”
A woman walking by gasped, muttered, “Pervert.”
Hell yeah, he was a pervert. For fuck’s sake, he hadn’t touched his boyfriend in forty-five days. He was about to spend the next forty-eight hours being a pervert. He was gonna pervert the fuck outta Gumby. Jazz too.
Speaking of, Gumby didn’t bend over, but he stalked forward, eyes hot and needy. Screw had spent more time with his hand and FaceTime than he’d thought possible over the past month and a half. Though there’d been plenty, and he meant plenty of times where he’d gotten to fuck Jazz stupid while video chattin’ with Gumby. Their lover sure loved to watch them while he got off. Those were some damn good memories, but nothing beat the three of them touching, tasting, all being together.
Gumby stopped just out of reach and crooked a finger. “Come here.”
“You want me to come right here? Really?” Screw shrugged and reached for his belt. “Figured you’d want Jazz here too for the first time, but, you know me, I’m always game.”
With a laugh and a roll of his eyes, Gumby closed the distance and yanked Screw against him. “Fuck, I missed that smartassed mouth. And now I get it back. Whenever I want. Forever.” He grabbed the back of Screw’s head and crashed their mouths together in a kiss that curled his toes and weakened his knees.
Oh, fuck, he was hard as a rock in the airport arrivals lane while his boyfriend rubbed all over him with an equally hard cock.
“Jesus Christ,” Screw said as he gulped in air and tried to ignore the ache in his balls. “Get in the fucking truck, G. We need our girl with us.”
Gumby winked, kissed him once more, then went to stow his suitcase in the back.
Damn, he was glad that man was home.
DAMN, IT WAS good to be back in Tennessee. It’d taken longer to sell his house and share of the business than expected, thus the thirty-day trip turned into forty-five. If he’d had doubts about his triad relationship before leaving—which he hadn’t, but if he had—they’d have flown out the window within the first twenty-four hours.
Being without Screw and Jazz sucked.
“So how’d it go last night?” Screw asked as he watched Gumby buckle his belt.
“It was rough, to be honest. Good, but a little rough.” His club had thrown a huge blowout sendoff party for him the night before. Though it wasn’t customary, or even technically allowed, the club had been beyond cool about him handing over his colors to go live in Townsend.
Next obstacle would be a vote to see if the Handlers would let him in without prospecting. He’d do what he had to, but fuck he wasn’t looking forward to another tortuous prospecting year.
“You having second thoughts?” Though he stared out the windshield and sounded unaffected, Gumby knew Screw’s insecurities well by now.
“Second thoughts? No. Fuck no. Just hard to say goodbye to people I’ve known my entire life. I grew up with a lot of my club brothers.”
Screw glanced his way then reached out a hand which Gumby gladly took. After weeks of not being able to touch, he planned to spend the next few days connected to his lovers in every way.
In a rare display of utter seriousness and sincerity, Screw said, “I hope you know Jazz and I realize the sacrifice you’re making to be with us, and we will not take it for granted.”
He lifted Screw’s hand and kissed the knuckles. “Not a sacrifice.” A tiny whimper from the back seat had Gumby glancing over his shoulder. “Uh, Screw? What the hell is that? Or should I say, what they hell are they?”
With a toothy grin, Screw said, “They are our new guard dogs.”
Gumby laughed as he reached in the back and pulled the box containing two fuzz balls onto his lap. “Guard dogs. Seriously?” He stroked a finger over the soft and tiny head of one puppy then the other.
“We’ll they aren’t guard dogs today, but they’ll grow.” Screw shrugged. “I don’t like it when Jazzy is home alone. Two pit bulls might have prevented Jeremy from breaking into the yard.”
He had a point there.
The three of them had been staying at Screw’s until Gumby left. Now that he’d returned, they planned to look for a bigger house to buy. It’d be nice to know Jazz wasn’t alone in the house on late nights.
“They boys or girls?” One of the puppies was a light gray with a few irregularly shaped white patches, including one around its eye. The other was a light brown with one swatch of white on its chest. “And did you name them yet?”
“Both boys. Brothers. They’re eight weeks old, and I did name them. The gray one is Pitcher and the brown is Catcher.”
Gumby laughed loud, making Catcher jump beneath his big hand. “You’re ridiculous.”
Screw just waggled his eyebrows as his truck ate up the miles to home. Gumby picked up the pups. Each fit in the palm of his hand. He cuddled their warm, wriggly bodies to his chest. Settling back in the seat, he watched his man drive with a smile on his face. In a short time, he’d be home and could focus on building a life with the two people who meant everything to him.
JAZZ SMOOTHED THE front of her form-fitted dress before glancing in the mirror. Over the past few months, she’d been working on feeling comfortable in short sleeves and tank tops. Scars were still there of course. Actually, she had a few new ones due to both Jeremy and Paul, but her men had helped her see that not only didn’t they define her, they didn’t draw stares of disgust and horror like she’d always feared. With the help of Screw, Gumby, and her amazing girlfriends, she’d taken a wild leap out of her comfort zone and began wearing short sleeves at work.
Not only did the world keep turning, but she’d been far more comfortable and less sweaty running around all day. Right now, she was looking pretty good if she did say so herself. The wine colored bodycon dress with a scooped neck hugged her in all the right places and actually gave her some curves.
Screw had texted about twenty-five minutes ago saying he was a half an hour out. She planned to surprise him, and hopefully they could cue Gumby up on FaceTime for a little three-way video sex.
The sound of the truck idling in the driveway had her running to the den. Jazz sat on the edge of the couch, positioning herself in what she hoped was a sexy pose. Luckily, Screw was easy and thought pretty much anything she did was sexy.
The door opened and Gumby strode into the room.
Jazz forgot all about being sexy. “Gumby!” she shrieked as she flew toward him, jumped in his arms and wrapped herself around him as tight as she could.
“Hey, baby,” he said, holding her just as close. “Surprise.”
“Oh, my God, are you really here?” She pulled back to look at his handsome, clean-shaven face.
“I really am,” he said, before kissing her.
“For good?” she asked against his mouth.
She felt his lips curve. “For good, Jazzy.”
This time she kissed him until she could no longer breathe or think. “I love you so much.”
Pressing their foreheads together, he grinned.
“Hey, what am I? Chopped liver?”
Jazz giggled. She felt lighter than she had in weeks. Her men were under the same roof as her. Exactly where they were all meant to be.
“Love you, Screwball,” Gumby said.
“And I love you too,” said Jazz.
“Yeah, yeah, you guys are all right,” he said which was pretty much a gushing declaration of love, especially since he sounded suspiciously choked up watching her love on Gumby.
“Hey, what’s in that box?” Jazz jumped out of Gumby’s arms. She felt giddy, so happy she could start flying arou
nd the room. “Oh, my God, Screw, they are so cute!”
“And I’m forgotten all ready,” Gumby said.
Jazz swatted his arm as she giggled. “Oh, stop. Look at the puppies.” They were the cutest little balls of squish and fur. Jazz knelt next to the box, crooning and babbling at the sweet puppies. She lifted the gray one, rubbing his soft little body against her cheek. “I’m in love. Are they ours? Please tell me we’re keeping them.”
“We’re keeping them,” Screw said a he shrugged out of his leather jacket and hung it in the closet. “But, babe, they’re fierce guard dogs, so you can’t go gaga all over them.”
“What? Guard dogs? No, they’re my cute little babies,” she said in high-pitched baby talk.
Gumby laughed. “She’s gonna turn your ferocious animals into little marshmallows.”
Jazz looked up in time to see Screw sidle up next to Gumby. Gumby put his arm around Screw’s waist, pulling him into his side as though it was as natural as breathing.
Being with them was as close to perfection as she’d ever encounter. Every night she went to bed warm, safe…satisfied and with a huge smile on her face. In the mornings, she practically hopped out of bed, ready to see what the day with her men would bring. And all those hours in between she floated on a cloud of blissful love. Or often orgasmic love.
“Hey, what are their names?”
Gumby snorted which earned him an elbow to the gut from Screw. “Ow! What was that for?”
“Making fun of my awesome names.”
“Oh, Lord, what are they?”
“Well, these little guys are both boys, so I named them Pitcher and Catcher. You’re holding Pitcher.”
Wait? Huh? She frowned at the little puppy in her hands.
“Um, Screw?”
“Yeah, baby?”
“For someone who claims to have had as many encounters with both penises and vaginas as you, you should really be able to recognize anatomy better.”
“Oh, shit,” said Gumby as he cracked up laughing.
Jazz’s shoulders began to shake as she suppressed her own hilarity.
