by A M Snead
He felt the presence behind him before there was any sound, felt the hot breath on the back of his neck.
Mickey went rigid, an instant tremor invading his body and spiking his pulse.
“For your boyfriend’s sake…” the man whispered low, ominous. “…you’d best not be spilling secrets.”
“I-I’m…I’m not.” Mickey gripped the edge of the counter to steady himself as his legs went weak. “I-I haven’t said anything, I swear…I won’t tell anyone. I won’t.”
“You’re aware that I can get to him…regardless of where he’s at…” Lips touched the back of his head. “…who he’s with?”
Mickey’s throat closed, and tears filled his eyes. “Yes…”
“Good.” Hands gripped his hips and Mickey flinched. “So, don’t fuck with me,” he whispered low, dangerously. “Or I will fuck with you.” A hard crotch shoved against his rear. “And your little boyfriend. Especially him.” Teeth raked Mickey’s neck. “Trust me, you don’t want to find out what I’m capable of.”
Mickey’s stomach hurt as it knotted and twisted. He thought he might puke and clenched his jaw, swallowing rapidly as his saliva turned stale. “I-I won’t tell…I won’t say anything to anyone…” Tears rolled down his cheeks and dripped off his chin.
Firm lips pressed to his ear and whispered words pushed into his head, chilling his blood.
The invasive body withdrew, and Mickey didn’t move for a long time, until he was sure he was alone again. He turned his head slowly and looked around the kitchen. No one lingered nearby. His legs weakened, and he sank to the floor, hugging his stomach. Sobs broke loose, and he tried to stifle them, choking on his quiet cries.
He didn’t know how long he knelt there on the floor, arms encircling his waist, just trying to control his sobs and the ebbing nausea—when someone touched his shoulder. Mickey gasped and jerked away hard, his shoulder hitting the lower cabinet door, rattling the pots and pans inside.
“Mickey?” Jack was on his knees beside him, reaching for him cautiously. “Baby, what’s wrong?” Fear and concern reflected from Jack’s face. Mickey broke and scrambled into his arms, clinging to him, crying. Jack hugged him tight and rubbed his back. “Mickey…what is it? Come on, baby, tell me what’s wrong.”
Mickey trembled in his arms, savoring the warmth of his body, the security of his embrace. But he couldn’t tell. He couldn’t. “I...I just started feeling sick to my stomach,” he choked. “But…but I’m okay…it’s starting to go away.”
Jack held onto him when he tried to withdraw. “Mickey, you’re not okay,” Jack said quietly. “Something is going on with you, and you need to talk about it.”
“No,” Mickey shook his head, another sob sticking in his throat. He managed to work free of Jack’s arms and went to the sink where he washed his face and dried it with a hand towel. “I’m fine. I just…I just wasn’t feeling good. I was having bad stomach cramps and I thought I was going to throw up.”
“Maybe you should have Bailey check you out. He’s an EMT, right?”
Mickey sniffed and cleared his throat. “I probably just ate something bad,” he mumbled. “It’s already going away.”
Please go away. Don’t ask me anything else.
“Mickey…”
“I said I’m fine.” He shuddered and moved quickly around Jack but halted abruptly when Lucas and Bailey appeared in the kitchen doorway, blocking the exit. And behind them—Garrett.
♥
Garrett’s eyes locked with Jack’s for a fleeting moment before all attention was shifted to Mickey. The boy had been crying and now stared at them all like a trapped animal.
“What is going on?” Lucas asked slowly and entered the kitchen.
“Nothing,” Mickey answered hurriedly. He glanced anxiously—almost pleadingly—at Jack, but Jack just shook his head and looked at Lucas.
“I found him huddled in here on the floor, crying.” He glanced at Mickey, deep concern in his eyes. “But he won’t tell me what’s wrong.”
“There’s nothing wrong,” Mickey insisted, new tears forming. “I-I was just having flu cramps or something, I was feeling sick. That’s all.”
Bailey stepped forward and touched his face, his fingertips tracing down Mickey’s neck. Garrett had been informed about Bailey’s encounter with Mickey a few days ago. The guy was checking for evidence of fresh bruises.
Twisting away from his touch, Mickey ducked his head, avoiding eye contact with anyone. “I said I was fine.”
“That’s bullshit,” Lucas said. “Nothing is fine.”
Garrett moved around Lucas. “Mickey, baby, you know you can talk to us. We just want to help. But you have to trust us.”
“I-I do,” Mickey choked softly. “But…but there’s nothing wrong.” His eyes flicked uneasily to Bailey’s face then back to Garrett.
“I’m sorry, babe,” Garrett murmured. “But I don’t believe you.”
Lucas shook his head and Garrett could feel the man’s rage simmering within. “Mickey…” He moved toward the boy. “You need to tell us right now who the fuck had their hands around your throat. Who hurt you?”
Mickey looked at Bailey, tears thickening. “You…you said you wouldn’t tell,” he whispered unsteadily.
“I had to, Mickey,” Bailey said softly. “Baby, I know you’re in some kind of trouble. I can’t just stand back and let you get hurt again. None of us can.”
Shaking his head slowly, Mickey backed away. “Just…just leave me alone. Everything will be fine if you just leave me alone.”
“That’s what you said earlier,” Lucas pointed out. “You said everything would be fine if everyone would stop asking you questions. What does that mean?”
“Mickey?” Garrett pressed gently when the boy didn’t answer.
Mickey hugged himself. Tears seeped into his lashes and coursed down his face. “I-I can deal with it,” he whispered. “I don’t need your help. You…you have to leave me alone…please…”
“No.” Lucas’ face tightened, his eyes hardening with determination. “No fucking way, Mickey. You are going to tell us who the fuck hurt you, and then we are going to string the motherfucker up by his balls.”
“It isn’t any of your business,” Mickey responded. “I don’t have to tell you anything.”
“Baby, what’re you afraid of?” Bailey asked. “Has someone threatened you?”
“No!” Mickey cried. “I told you, just leave me alone!” He surged forward to push past them, but Lucas caught his arm, halting him. “Let go!” Mickey choked and jerked against Lucas’ grip. “You can’t make me tell you anything! I won’t tell! I won’t!”
“Mickey!” Lucas pulled the struggling boy against him and held him with both hands. Tears burned in Lucas’ eyes. “Baby, just stop! Calm down. We can help you—now just talk to us.”
“Let me go, God dammit!” Mickey fought him.
Real fear churned in Garrett’s heart; what was wrong with him? The boy was in an all-out panic. Jack stood back, letting the three of them deal with Mickey, perhaps feeling he hadn’t been here long enough to truly get involved.
“Mickey! Stop!” Lucas’ voice rose, breaking with emotion and fear.
“Mickey?” Marcus stepped into the kitchen, eyes wide. “What’s…what’s going on?” Tears instantly formed at the sight of Mickey’s streaked face and frightened eyes. “What’s wrong?”
Lucas’ grip eased, and Mickey jerked loose and ran to Marcus, throwing his arms around him. He cried against his neck and clutched him tighter. Marcus clung to him, fear mounting in his eyes as he looked at the other men in the kitchen. “Why…why is he crying?” He turned his face against Mickey’s hair and trembled. “Mickey…what’s wrong? Please tell me.” A sob caught in his throat. “Please.”
His breath shuddering, Mickey drew back and ushered Marcus out through the kitchen doorway, casting a quick, anxious glance at those left behind.
“Let him go,” Lucas murmured before anyone cou
ld follow after him. “For now.” He sighed heavily and rubbed his hand over his mouth. “This is no minor issue. We need to talk to Gideon. Now.” He touched Bailey’s arm. “Come on. You and I will find Gideon.” He looked at Garrett, his eyes skipping to Jack then back again. “You guys stick close to the boys. Keep an eye on them until we talk to Gideon.”
There wasn’t time to protest before the two young men vacated the kitchen, leaving Garrett and Jack alone.
Jack stared after them a moment then walked toward the doorway, visible tension in his body.
His heart suddenly pounding, Garrett touched Jack’s arm as he passed. “Jack…” He withdrew his hand the instant Jack stopped. Jack didn’t look at him but kept his stare on the doorway. “I, uh…” Garrett cleared his throat as it tried to close. “I’m sorry, about earlier. When you thanked me, I…I didn’t mean to sound like an ass. I didn’t mean it to come out like that.”
Jack’s gaze shifted slowly from the doorway to the floor. “It’s all right,” he whispered. He stood stiffly as if waiting to see if Garrett had more to say. When he didn’t immediately add anything else, Jack started for the door again.
“Scotty said you came by to talk to me,” Garrett blurted out, halting Jack a second time. “While I was gone. Uh…” He licked his lips and fidgeted. “What…did you want to say?”
Jack’s hands flexed absently at his sides and he swallowed thickly. “I just…” He shrugged, his voice strained. “I wanted to clear the air between us,” he mumbled. “I don’t…” His throat worked, and he blinked rapidly. “I don’t want to fight with you anymore. I’m sick of living with stress. I had enough of it when I still lived at home, and more than enough when…when Jill was sick.” He sniffed, a wetness to his breath as he exhaled unevenly. “Apart from the shoots, we can stay out of each other’s way if…if that’s how it needs to be. We don’t have to be friends, but…” He shook his head and glanced quickly at Garrett, a gloss to his eyes. “…but we don’t have to hate each other either.”
A shaky breath escaped Garrett’s throat and his own eyes stung. “Okay…” he whispered unsteadily. “I…I don’t want to fight anymore either.”
Jack’s brow squeezed as he stared hard at the floor, then merely nodded and started to walk away again.
“Was there…anything else,” Garrett asked uncertainly. Hopefully? “That you wanted to say, when you came by my room?”
Jack hesitated at the doorway and turned his head, grasping Garrett’s eyes fleetingly. The wet sheen thickened, and his throat worked as if trying to push out words, but when they refused to come, he shook his head slowly and looked away. “No.”
The kid stepped through the doorway and disappeared from Garrett’s sight. Garrett’s heart pumped erratically.
“I don’t believe you, Jack Heart.”
71 “The Untouched”
“Daniel?” He was the last person Gideon had expected to be on the other side of the knock at his bedroom door. He’d spoken to Daniel on the phone a little over an hour ago, just after his talk with Lucas and Bailey, but he hadn’t expected the man to drive all the way out to his place so late in the evening.
Daniel leaned against the doorframe. “You sounded like you could use a face-to-face chat.”
Truth was, Gideon had wanted Daniel to come out, but hadn’t felt right about asking at that hour.
“I could, yes,” Gideon admitted. He stepped back and motioned Daniel into the room then closed the door. “But you didn’t have to drive all the way out here so late at night.”
“It isn’t that late,” Daniel mused and surveyed the bedroom. Gideon had invited him out to his place many times, but this was the first time Daniel had been in his bedroom.
Gideon wasn’t accustomed to having men in his room—it was one of the few places he maintained his privacy—and it made him a little self-conscious having Daniel here now. But neither did he feel compelled to leave the room and take their talk to his office.
“Have you talked to Mickey?” Daniel asked and faced him, his brow knit with concern. “I can’t believe anyone would want to hurt those boys.”
“I haven’t yet,” Gideon said quietly. He absently rubbed his bare stomach and noticed Daniel’s eyes following the movement of his hand. He’d been lounging on top of the bed in black cotton pajama pants and no top, trying to sort out his troubled thoughts, when Daniel arrived. He withdrew his hand and raked it through his hair instead. “Mickey was pretty upset, according to Lucas. I want to give him a chance to settle down before I try to talk to him. Lucas and some of the guys will keep an eye on the twins tonight, try to help Mickey relax and get some rest. Then we’ll deal with everything tomorrow. After the shoot,” he added. “I want that out of the way before we try to focus on this problem.”
It hadn’t been an easy decision to postpone his talk with Mickey. From what Lucas and Bailey told him, Mickey was in bad shape. Such behavior wasn’t at all like Mickey. He and Marcus were the sunlight that lit up the house, and all the hearts in it. Like Daniel, he couldn’t imagine who would possibly want to hurt or threaten them.
“How serious is it, do you think?” Daniel asked.
Exhaling low, Gideon walked to the window. “I don’t know,” he murmured. “I can’t believe Mickey would be reacting so strongly if it wasn’t something damn serious.” He stared out at the darkness and an ache squeezed his throat. “How could I not fucking see that something was this wrong?”
“Hey,” Daniel said quietly. He came to his side and touched his arm. “You do damn good by those boys. You take care of them to the best of your ability. No one sees everything.”
“But this is Mickey,” Gideon stressed. “Any change in his behavior should have sent up instant red flags.”
“Listen to me.” Daniel shifted his hand from Gideon’s arm to his neck, cupping gently. “You’ve been distracted with the promos and shooting the skit…cut yourself some slack. You have a lot on your plate.”
Gideon shook his head slowly. “I feel like I’m missing something, like its right in front of me and I’m not seeing it.” He rubbed his eyes, his chest tightening. “Fuck,” he choked on a sudden swell of emotion. “If something happens to one of my boys because…I’m not fucking aware of what’s going on in my own house…” He trembled.
“Whatever’s happening with Mickey,” Daniel murmured and stroked his hair. “You’re aware of it now. And you know damn well the other boys are going to watch him and Marcus like a hawk until you get to the bottom of it. So, don’t worry about Mickey tonight. He’s in good hands.”
Nodding slowly, Gideon released a shaky breath and met Daniel’s gaze. “Thank you,” he whispered. “For coming out here tonight.”
Daniel smiled and kissed his cheek. “You know I’m here for you, whenever you need me. Day or night.”
“I know,” Gideon said softly and absently plucked at Daniel’s shirt. It provided much needed comfort to have Daniel there, and Gideon wished he could ask him to stay with him, hold him throughout the rest of the night. But to ask such a thing would imply he was offering more, and he was aware of how much Daniel longed to have more. But as much as he wanted to give it…he couldn’t.
Daniel combed his fingertips lightly through Gideon’s hair. Gideon moved closer and leaned against his body, his brow resting on Daniel’s shoulder as the man tentatively embraced him. Gideon slowly wrapped his arms around Daniel’s waist and closed his eyes.
“Just so you know,” Gideon whispered. “I do think about you…that way. But…”
“It’s okay.” Daniel kissed his hair. “You don’t have to explain. I know you’re not ready to go there yet.” He held Gideon tighter, a slight strain to his voice as he added, “Maybe you never will be ready to go there with me. Either way, I’ll always be here for you. That aspect will never affect our friendship.”
“It’s comforting to know that,” Gideon murmured. He wished there was some way to call a truce to the battle raging inside him, and just be wi
th Daniel. It was no secret to Gideon that Daniel held at least a portion of his heart, that to some degree…he was falling in love with him and was pretty sure he had been from the moment they met. It wasn’t just memories of David and the lingering emotions of his first love that held him back—even when the past was the present, there had been no hope for him and David. And in this “present” it wasn’t even in the realm of possibility. If they’d had a time—which they hadn’t—it was long past by now. And right here in front of him stood a man so ready and willing to give him everything. What was the hold up?
“If you want me to stay,” Daniel told him and cupped his head, lifting his face. “I will. No strings attached. Just one friend being here for another friend. If you don’t want to be alone tonight.”
“I don’t…want to be alone,” Gideon admitted quietly. “But it wouldn’t be right for me to ask you to stay.”
“Why?” Daniel wondered. His thumbs slid over Gideon’s cheeks. “Besides, I offered.”
Gideon swallowed thickly and ducked his head. “I don’t feel right. I feel like I’m taking advantage of your feelings for me, Daniel. And you deserve better than that…from me.”
A soft chuckle vibrated Daniel’s chest. “We’re friends, Gideon. You’re supposed to take advantage of me. It’s what guy friends do, even gay guy friends.”
Gideon laughed softly and pressed his head to Daniel’s brow, groaning low. “You know what I mean.”
“Yes, I do,” Daniel murmured and kissed him lightly on the mouth. “But that isn’t how I feel about it. You are the most selfless man I know. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you put your own needs above someone else’s.” He kissed him again. “So, as your friend, it’s my place to put your needs first. And tonight, you need someone here with you.” He grinned softly against Gideon’s mouth. “And I eagerly volunteer my services…even if I’m not allowed to service you.”
♥
It would be a lie if Daniel denied that he was just a little worried about his own ability to resist temptation. Once it was established that he would stay the night, he offered to make his bed on the small sofa adjacent to Gideon’s bed—as much as he desired to be in his friend’s bed, Daniel didn’t really expect Gideon to allow him to literally sleep with him.
