Jack

by A M Snead

  ♥

  “How are you doing?” Gideon asked quietly from behind the steering wheel. They had left the club shortly after Jack’s parents took their leave, Garrett and Bailey offering to take Benjamin with them.

  Jack stared straight ahead as they drove away from the city. “I don’t know.” He shrugged. His throat was raw from crying and his eyes felt swollen, though the tears had dried before he’d left the club. He didn’t even know why his confrontation with his parents had left him in tears—they were out of his life like he wanted. He should feel exhilarated. Relieved.

  “I was proud of you,” Gideon murmured and reached across, squeezing his shoulder affectionately. “You stood up for yourself and didn’t back down. That can be especially hard to do with one’s parents.”

  There wasn’t one time that Jack could recall in which his father had said he was proud of him. Yet it seemed to come so easily for Gideon to feel that pride in him. “Thank you,” Jack whispered and looked at the man. “For stepping in…defending me.”

  Gideon smiled and cupped the back of his head, ruffling his hair a little. “You’re my boy,” he said. “I will always protect my own.” He withdrew his hand and rubbed his mouth thoughtfully, casting Jack a quick, sidelong glance. “I don’t know if you were aware of it or not, but I was only seconds ahead of Garrett.”

  “What?” Jack frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “The instant your dad raised his hand to you,” Gideon said. “Garrett was poised to jump in. I just happened to beat him to it.” He tossed Jack another glance. “It was probably a good thing he walked out of the club after you and was there when your parents arrived. That wasn’t something you should’ve had to do alone, without support.”

  Jack’s brow knit in a frown. “He came out there because you asked him to. He said you wanted to see me back inside.”

  Gideon shook his head slowly, a slight smile corking the edge of his mouth. “I didn’t send him out there.”

  His heart thumping hard, Jack looked out the passenger window. “He must’ve been going to get something from the car,” he mumbled.

  “Yeah,” Gideon murmured with a note of amusement. “That must’ve been it.”

  Jack wasn’t in the emotional frame of mind to be drawn into a discussion of Garrett’s motives. Before Gideon could steer the topic of conversation in that direction, Jack asked quietly, “Do you think she would have really stood up for me?”

  Silence filled up the car for a moment. “Your mother?” Gideon ventured.

  “Yeah,” Jack whispered and turned his eyes forward again, a troubled pinch in his brow.

  “I couldn’t say,” Gideon admitted.

  Jack lowered his gaze to his lap. He picked at his jeans. “I’ve never seen her stand up to him. Maybe…” He swallowed hard. “Maybe she just said that so she wouldn’t look bad.”

  “Is that what you believe?”

  “I don’t know.” Jack shrugged. He looked at Gideon, a fresh dampness to his eyes. “You know the real reason I didn’t tell her?”

  Gideon glanced at him. “What was that?”

  “A…” He pursed his lips and lowered his eyes again. “A part of me thought maybe she knew, and she just let it happen. And I didn’t want to know that about her.” His eyes filled as a lump formed in his throat. “I didn’t want to know that she didn’t care if my dad hurt me.”

  “And now you’re not sure if she was telling the truth?” Gideon asked quietly.

  “Yeah.” Jack sniffed and swallowed hard. “And even if she was…what difference does it make? She still can’t deal with me being gay. She’s still with my dad on that. Still thinks I’m bound for hell.”

  Gideon cleared his throat. “And what do you think?”

  Jack shrugged. “I don’t know,” he mumbled. “Don’t really care.”

  “That can be a tough one to sort out,” Gideon murmured. “I think each person has to figure out for themselves what they believe concerning that. Are the scriptures being properly interpreted? Or are people failing to search the scriptures for the real truth, as God says for us to do?” He shrugged and looked at Jack. “In a way, it’s all subjective.”

  “My parents seem pretty adamant about what they believe,” Jack whispered. “You’d think they’d at least question the interpretation when their own son’s eternal soul was at stake.”

  “For many,” Gideon said softly. “Certain beliefs have been rooted in deep all their lives.” His gaze drifted distantly ahead, his voice dropping to a whisper. “And they aren’t capable of questioning them.”

  Jack looked at him. Gideon seemed to have slipped away to another time and place. Was he still talking about Jack’s parents…or someone else?

  ♥

  “What an asshole,” Bailey piped up after a long stretch of silence, startling Garrett. He had given the front seat to Benjamin and climbed into the back seat of Bailey’s car, in hopes that he would be left out of conversation. “I can’t believe he was actually going to hit Jack right there in front of us.” He smiled. “It’s a good thing for him his hand didn’t connect, he would have gotten his ass kicked.”

  “By your boss?” Benjamin asked.

  Garrett felt Bailey’s eyes on him through the rearview mirror but didn’t look to meet his stare.

  “Not just boss daddy, I don’t think,” Bailey mused.

  The kid looked back at Garrett. “You looked like you were about to get into it.”

  Garrett shrugged and exhaled low. “The prick didn’t need to be throwing punches. I would’ve stepped in for any of the guys. It wasn’t personal.”

  Benjamin frowned, puzzled. “But in the dressing room you said—”

  “It wasn’t personal,” Garrett insisted tightly, eyes drilling into the boy with a “shut up now” look.

  The kid took the cue and fell silent, turning forward.

  “What?” Bailey asked and glanced at Benjamin then into the rearview mirror at Garrett. “What did you say?”

  “Nothing,” Garrett muttered.

  Bailey raised a slow eyebrow. “Something about…Jack?”

  The boy shot a quick look back at Garrett.

  “No,” Garrett lied. “It was nothing.” Of course, Bailey didn’t believe him for a second, that much was obvious. And the kid’s flittering eyes did nothing to support Garrett’s fib. Luckily, Bailey didn’t press the issue. Garrett stared out the side window as he leaned his head against the back of the seat.

  Why had he followed Jack out of the club? To talk? He didn’t really know what had moved his feet to trail the guy—especially after Jack had just told him to fuck off. Garrett had been annoyed with Jack’s little dig, so maybe he was going outside to tell him off?

  That’s bullshit and you know it. But what wasn’t bullshit? What was the non-bullshit reason he had gone after the guy?

  Does it even matter now? Garrett wasn’t sure it did. Because any alternative reason he might have had instantly became moot in the face of Jack’s heartbroken words falling from his lips in a sobbing whisper—

  “Why did you leave? What did I do wrong?”

  —leaving Garrett more troubled and confused than ever.

  65 “The Carving”

  Mickey rolled over against the warm body and snuggled closer. “Marcus…” he mumbled. Exhaustion cemented his eyes closed though his mind was slowly waking up. “…I want you.” An arm encircled his shoulders and hugged him, lips kissing his hair.

  “I know I’m not nearly as cute and sexy.” Lucas’ soft voice worked through the foggy haze around Mickey’s mind. “But will I do for now?”

  “Hmm…?” Loose furrows weaved across Mickey’s brow. His eyelids felt like lead weights as he forced them open and looked up. “Lucas?”

  “You seem surprised I’m still here.” Lucas smiled. “Was I supposed to leave after you had your way with me? Is that all I am to you—just a boy toy to be played with then tossed aside? Hmm?”

  Mickey rolled his eyes and droppe
d his head heavily on Lucas’ chest. “Shut up,” he mumbled tiredly, a soft laugh escaping as his gaze drifted to the opposite side of the bed. “You know that isn’t…” The weight in his eyelids dissipated instantly upon discovering Marcus absent from the bed. He blinked, and all drowsiness evaporated. “Where’s Marcus?” He raised his head and looked at Lucas anxiously then around the room. “Where is he?”

  “Down in the rec room with some of the other guys, I think,” Lucas said then chuckled. “He said he was going to challenge Derek to a game and win back his freedom.”

  Mickey scrambled for the edge of the bed, heart racing as fear knotted up his stomach.

  “Whoa.” Lucas grabbed him and dragged him back down on the bed. “What’s the hurry? I thought we could talk for a minute.”

  Mickey glanced at the door, eyes wide. “Not…not now,” he stuttered. “I-I need to go get Marcus.”

  “Why?” Lucas held him in place, a slow frown creeping across his forehead. “Marcus is fine. But you and I really need to talk.”

  “No,” Mickey choked, a sudden wave of emotion sweeping over him. Panic bubbled in his gut, working its way into his chest and causing his heart to beat faster, harder. “Lucas, let me go. I need to be with Marcus.”

  “Mickey?” Lucas’ frown pinched when Mickey struggled against his grasp. “Just calm down, babe. Marcus is fine.”

  “No!” Mickey cried, coming unhinged. “Why did you let him leave?”

  “What’re you talking about?”

  As before, when he’d awaken to Marcus’ absence, Mickey knew his panic was irrational, but he couldn’t stop it from overwhelming him. He wriggled free of Lucas’ grasp and scurried off the bed, grabbing his jeans.

  “Mickey?” Lucas was out of the bed right behind him. “What the hell is going on? What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” Mickey choked, realizing how ridiculous his answer was. He stuffed his legs in his pants and hurriedly tugged them up.

  “Bull shit,” Lucas said and grabbed his shoulders before he could fasten the snap. “Talk to me, Mickey. Something is wrong. Marcus can see it, and so can I. Others have noticed, too. Whatever it is, you can tell me, you know that.”

  “Nothing’s wrong,” Mickey insisted and tried to break free. His throat worked with emotion and his eyes were starting to burn, blurring his vision. “Just let me go get Marcus.”

  “No,” Lucas said tightly and gripped him more firmly. “You tell me what’s wrong, Mickey?”

  He shook his head, avoiding Lucas’ probing stare, and strained against Lucas’ hands, whimpering desperately, “Lucas, please…let me go…let me…get Marcus. I need to be with Marcus.”

  “Why?”

  “I just do.” Desperation saturated his voice. He jerked against Lucas’ hold. “Let go of me, God dammit!”

  Lucas withdrew, his frown deepening with concern as Mickey trembled before him, tears forming. “Mickey…” he murmured. “What the fuck is going on? I’ve never seen you act like this before.”

  Mickey stared at the door, wanting to flee, run to Marcus and see with his own eyes that he was okay. But Lucas stood between him and his escape route. “Just stop asking me, okay?” he choked. “Everything is fine if…if people will just stop fucking asking what’s wrong.”

  “People?” Lucas eyed him. “Have others asked?”

  Mickey didn’t reply. He had managed to put Bailey off for a while, but Lucas wasn’t budging. He didn’t know how to make Lucas back off and leave it alone.

  “Did Bailey talk to you?” Lucas asked.

  The man was clearly undaunted by the fact that he was standing stark naked before Mickey as he questioned him. Regardless of what Mickey did or didn’t say, he knew Lucas would now question Bailey as well. Would Bailey keep silent and not tell Lucas about the bruises on Mickey’s throat? If he told, there would be no stopping Lucas—he would bring Gideon into it and then…

  “Please, Lucas…” Mickey whispered thickly. “Don’t ask me anything else. I swear, everything is okay.”

  “Nothing is okay, Mickey.” Lucas stepped closer again. “You were practically in a panic simply because Marcus was out of your sight. I know you guys stick together like glue, but even that is over the top for you.” He cupped Mickey’s face and kissed him softly on the mouth. “Now you need to tell me what is going on. What’re you afraid of? Because something has got you scared shitless. And it involves Marcus. That much I can figure out for myself, just based on this little display of yours.”

  Mickey gripped his wrists and turned his face away. “Lucas, I can’t…”

  “Yes, you can.” Lucas kissed his head. “Come on, baby, trust me. Whatever it is, you know we’re all here for you. We won’t let anything happen to you or Marcus.”

  Lucas made him feel like it was safe to tell. But he could still feel the hand around his throat, squeezing—and the threats on Marcus. Even if he could tell…he wouldn’t do so without Marcus right there with him.

  “Lucas—”

  “Hey.” The door opened, startling them both. Bailey leaned in. “You gotta come down and meet the new guy…” His eyes swept Lucas’ nude body, his words fading out as he smiled. “Well, I see you’ve been a naughty boy while I’ve been gone.” Lucas’ failure to offer more than a weak smile wiped Bailey’s face clean of his own. He frowned. “Everything all right?”

  Mickey took the opportunity and grabbed his shirt, then slipped around Lucas and ducked past Bailey, hurrying for the stairs as he pulled on the t-shirt. He didn’t waste time getting to the ground floor. Gideon, Jack, and Garrett stood just outside the rec room with a boy Mickey didn’t recognize. The guys were filing out of the rec room and introducing themselves. Mickey searched the small group for Marcus—he would have been the first to approach the boy. But he was nowhere to be seen.

  Panic began to churn inside him and he entered the rec room behind the gathering of young men eager to meet the sexy newcomer. “Marcus…” The room was empty. Mickey turned around frantically. Was Marcus wedged between the bodies moving out into the other room? “Marcus?” he called a little louder. His heart was pounding too hard, he could barely breathe. Don’t freak out. He’s okay. You just missed him. He’s out in the other room.

  Mickey tried to calm himself, but it wasn’t working. He hurried out into the large foyer, spotted Derek and grabbed his arm. “Hey, you.” Derek grinned. “Did you meet Benjamin yet?”

  “Where’s Marcus?” Mickey asked with a tremor to his voice. “Lucas said he came down to play a game of pool with you. Where is he?”

  “Out back, I think,” Derek said. “Scotty came by and said he wanted to show him something outside—”

  Mickey was gone before Derek could finish, racing down the rear narrow hall that led to the back door of the large dwelling. He burst outside, breath exploding from his lungs, and searched the spacious back lawn for Marcus. Neither Marcus nor Scotty was anywhere to be seen, and his eyes were dragged to the woods, already beginning to fill up with shadows as the late afternoon crept toward evening.

  Fear and panic danced a haunting waltz in his chest, seizing up his heart. Please…please…I didn’t tell…I didn’t…please don’t hurt him…

  “Marcus!” His legs trembled as he ran forward, searching the hammock and finding it vacant. “Marcus!” he cried, choking on a sob. “Baby, where are you? Marcus—”

  A weight hit him from behind and he was tackled to the ground. Panic exploded through him and he scrambled away, twisting onto his back—coming face-to-face with Marcus’ grinning face as the boy laughed and crawled on top of him.

  “Scared ya, didn’t I?” he laughed again and straddled Mickey’s body.

  Mickey had never seen a more beautiful sight in all his life than Marcus’ face exploding with light and life. He bolted forward and crushed Marcus in a desperate hug, squeezing hard. His face shoved into the boy’s neck as he clung to him, struggling not to break down. He didn’t want Marcus to know how terrified he had been.
>
  “Yeah.” He shuddered hard. “You scared me all right, baby. Scared the fuck out of me.”

  “Well, I hope not,” Marcus snickered and pushed himself down firmly on Mickey’s lap. “I hope there’s still some of that left in you.”

  Mickey hugged him tighter. “I never run out of that,” he whispered, his throat knotted. The heat of Marcus’ body soothed his immediate fears, but a chill remained in his heart. “Where’s Scotty? Derek said he wanted to show you something.”

  “Oh. Yes. He did.” Marcus wriggled out of Mickey’s arms and stood up. “Come here.” He grabbed Mickey’s hand and dragged him to his feet, then pulled him hurriedly down the path toward the woods.

  “Marcus…” Drawing back, Mickey slowed the other boy’s forward progress. “Where are you going? I don’t want to go in there.” He swallowed thickly. “Did…did Scotty take you into the woods?”

  “It’s just right here.” Marcus rolled his eyes and smiled. “Don’t be a scaredy cat.” He tugged a reluctant Mickey forward and stopped at the edge of the trees. “Look.” He pointed high up on the trunk of a nearby tree.

  Mickey stepped closer. A heart had been crudely carved into the bark with M&M carved inside.

  “That’s us,” Marcus giggled. “M and M. Like the candy.” He rubbed up against Mickey and nuzzled his neck. “Melts in your mouth and not in your hand,” he cooed with another giggle. “But I bet you’ll melt in my hand, too.” With that, he slid his hand down between Mickey’s legs.

  “Marcus.” Mickey smiled anxiously. “What’re you doing, silly?”

  “I have to explain it?” He grinned and nibbled Mickey’s earlobe.

  Mickey glanced around uneasily as the shadows crept closer through the trees. “Where is Scotty?” he asked again.

  “He went back inside.” Marcus traced the tip of his tongue around the shell of Mickey’s ear. “I stayed out here because I knew you’d come looking for me.”