by RJ Scott
It was a mere half an hour before it started to go horribly wrong. Beth and Eden disappeared into the bathroom, Beth unable to hold the water she was sipping any longer than ten minutes.
"You slumming it, Hayes?"
Everyone looked up at the clearly inebriated guy leaning on the back of Beth's empty chair, his face twisted in a rare kind of anger.
"I'm sorry?" Riley answered, clearly confused. "Do I know you?"
The man snorted a bitter laugh. "When you paid me shit to work for your company you knew me. When you fired me with no grounds, you even knew my name! Where do you get off coming into my bar and—"
"We're just having a quiet meal here, son." Jim interrupted the flow of venom with a firm touch on the man's arm, trying to guide him away from the table. The man wrenched his arm free.
"You here with your fag husband, huh?"
Jack stood abruptly. "Why don't you just go back over to your table and shut your goddamn mouth?"
"You must be Hayes's cocksucking faggot of a husband." The man lurched forward, and Jim tried to pull him back as Jack drew himself up to his full height.
"That the best you got, Bubba? My Momma's called me worse things than that," he said clearly, turning to Donna and wincing as his mom started to protest.
"Jackson Robert Campbell, I have never—"
Eden and Beth arrived back at the table, both puzzled to see this man toe-to-toe with Jack, Jim on one side, and Riley and Josh both standing now. "Jack?"
"I see the little Hayes whore is here too. How are tricks, Princess Eden?" Eden looked at Riley blankly. She had no more idea who this man was than Riley had.
That was enough to encourage Riley forward. "That's my sister you're talking about, asshole. I don't tolerate anyone speaking to Eden that way. You really need to apologize to her and to my husband before I kick your ass." Riley then swallowed. Had he actually just said that, in a strange bar, in the middle of nowhere, with a group of buddies circling the guy looking for the fight? Shit. Steve moved next to him, a hand on his lower back, and Riley had never felt so relieved.
"Fuck you. I ain't doing no apologizing to no damn Hayes!" The man and his friends crowded closer. In the background, tables were being moved, people obviously used to bar brawls. Riley could see the bartender was moving bottles from the counter, taking side bets on who was gonna come out on top and dialing the cops at the same time.
Jack turned to the table. "Momma, you need to get Beth and Eden out of here. Josh, you need to stay out of this, 'cause I sure as hell am gonna need you to bail me out of jail tonight." Josh refused, standing close to his brother.
"I know good lawyers," Josh pointed out.
"Beth…" Eden sounded scared, and Beth pulled her hand as they moved away from the brothers and Riley.
"This isn't the first time they've brawled, and it won't be the last," she said clearly.
Riley looked at Steve who looked shell-shocked at the vitriol this guy was throwing at him. The man's friends stepped up to join him, which was the girls' cue to move to the door. Jack stepped forward, away from the others, talking to the first man who had the problem.
"Dude, I'm gonna let you have the first punch for free, but I want you to remember the name of the man who's gonna beat your ass— Campbell-Hayes."
The man reacted almost immediately, punching Jack in the jaw. Jack's head snapped back, and Riley moved to intervene, only stopping when Jack placed a hand in front of him, serenely righting himself, jerking his head to the side to loosen his neck, then calmly cracking his knuckles.
"It's on."
Jack's punch was a lot more accurate, and within seconds, the entire bar had erupted into a fight— Riley and Jack side by side, Steve at Riley's back, Josh well into the depths of the crowd and Jim providing left side support. It was evenly matched; every punch and hit returned with equal force, the other side mostly fuelled by liquor and anger, which gave Riley the edge he desperately needed in this new and hostile environment.
Chapter 31
Jack saw Riley pull a guy off him by literally lifting him over the bar, muscles bunching, and a knife of desire started to carve into his body. Riley had waded in with his six-four advantage, despite what had to be his incredibly sore chest. Jack tried to move to stand in front of him to shield him but was being dragged away by grabbing hands.
Riley managed one or two more swings before it became obvious the pain in his chest had started to get worse and he was faltering. Jack was never more pleased to see Steve, who had previously been behind Riley, jump into the fray. The whirling dervish of a blond took out three of Riley's opponents before they even realized he was there. Jack tried to thank him, but he was distracted by another punch, and then it was over as quickly as it had started, with the 911 call answered and the cops in the house. Donna, Beth, Eden and Anna hovered nervously as their guys limped and laughed their way to them, exchanging war stories and generally high on adrenalin and victory.
Jack looked at his suave, dignified husband in a very different way, seeing his button-down's ripped off buttons, dark sweat staining the material, and a huge grin across his face. He leaned towards him, but it was hard to string words together. He could taste the metallic tang of his own blood where his lip was split.
"You are so fucking hot," he murmured, his hand tracing the sweat path past hard nipples, the dips and highs of Riley's chest and lower to his crotch. Jack went from exuberant and horny to holy shit hard in less than a second as he felt his husband hard in his jeans, and he moaned low in his throat. Riley had blood on his face, his hair was flattened to his head with sweat, his jeans were torn, and his shirt hung loose about him with a tear running from neck to arm. The testosterone was swirling in them, the anger, the fear, the fight instinct pushing and shoving at politeness as Riley pushed back, his dick hard against Jack's hip.
Jesus. Jack wanted him now, his hand clutching at torn material, his eyes drawn to Riley's lips, imagining them wrapped around his dick, imagining him on his knees on the floor, sucking Jack down and— Shit.
"If you agree to pay for the damage, Riley, we are free to go. Turns out no one wants to arrest a Hayes." Josh's voice broke through Jack's fantasy, but he didn't move, his hands gripping harder, only blinking as Josh leaned in and half whispered, "Take it home, guys. Me an' Jim will sort the girls out."
The drive home was too long, neither man speaking, the tension in the car so thick Jack could feel it wrapping around them, the night inviting all sorts of fantasies and wants. They made it to the room in seconds, pulling the door closed and locking it. Jack ripped at the remains of Riley's shirt, dropping clothing on the floor, and Riley bit kisses into Jack's throat and moaned his appreciation.
"I want you to fuck me," Jack growled in his best porn voice, "’til I don't remember my name." He swallowed any protest in a biting, hurting kiss, pushing and pulling until he was on all fours on the bed naked, thrusting slick into Riley's hands and demanding Riley start now.
* * * *
Riley swallowed. How could he even think of turning Jack down, naked, waiting for him, begging for it? He squeezed too much slick on his fingers. He knew it was too much but didn't care. He just slipped a finger into Jack, his lover arching and keening at the pressure inside. It was quickly joined by a second, then a third, scissoring, locating his prostate and gently smoothing his fingers over it on every other pass.
"Riley, now, for God's sake," Jack pleaded. "Get inside me, Riley, now!" Riley lined up, and began to slowly push into Jack, but Jack wasn't having any of it. He drove himself back on Riley's dick.
"Jack, slow down. Fuck, I'm not gonna—"
Jack slowed for a minute, looking back over his shoulder at Riley, his eyes bright with lust, his lips parted, his breathing ragged. "Riley, hard."
Riley swallowed nervously, his instinct not to hurt being decimated by his need to just bury himself in Jack, harder and harder. Drawing on every reserve, listening to the wanton noises of the man beneath him, he set a fast,
deep pace, sweat soon dripping off him onto Jack's back as he lost himself in Jack's heat.
Jack whined, demanding more. He said it wasn't enough, and he pushed back harder, a gasp of pain escaping his mouth.
"All of you, Riley, harder, all of you. Fuck!"
With a growl, Riley pulled out, forcing Jack onto his back, the muscles in his arms bunching with the exertion. He wanted to see Jack's face. "Are you sure?"
"Riley!" was Jack's only reply, and taking a deep breath, trying to center himself, trying not to lose it there and then, Riley pushed back in. He had always wondered what this would be like, to have a lover he could let go with, to not have to hold back his strength. It was overwhelming, and looking down at his sexy lover, it seemed Jack was into it the same as Riley was. Jack's eyes were dark and wide, his gaze never leaving Riley, his fingers gripping the sheets so tightly they almost ripped the material. He was repeating words over and over again, "More— more— harder— I love you," and it made Riley feel ten feet tall.
He was close, so close, trying to hold back, but he needed Jack's mouth, needed Jack's tongue in his mouth. As they kissed, Jack started to whimper in pleasure, his arms going around Riley's broad shoulders. Riley could feel Jack tightening up, and he groaned as Jack pulled Riley's head down to his shoulder and began to focus on the juncture of neck and throat, sucking and biting hard on warm skin, tasting salt, tasting blood.
Jack lost it, coming so hard, clenching around him and only a few thrusts later, Riley shouted his own release, lost in sensation and rocking into the orgasm. They kissed, the taste of the blood there again, a small moan of contentment exchanged with heavy breaths and lazy tongues.
Slowly Riley eased out, Jack almost whimpering as Riley pulled free, both feeling weak as newborn kittens as Riley used the sheet to wipe them clean. Finally they just lay there, exhausted, happy, sated.
"So fucking sexy, Riley. When I looked up and saw you fighting right next to me, it was the hottest thing I'd ever seen. You were the sexiest man I'd ever seen." Jack's voice was thick with emotion and exhaustion, and he was asleep before Riley could even answer. His last conscious thought as he drifted off to sleep himself was, If that's what got Jack this turned on, we are so gonna have to get into fights more often…
Chapter 32
It started almost as soon as she shut her eyes. The same dream. The same nightmare, pushing her to cuddle deeper into her covers, a whimper on her lips.
Sense memories from that night, the evening light soft and subtle, the steps she was taking into adulthood that night meant so much to her. Twenty, and the world was hers, her first real event after the surgery. Jack dropped her at the party with his usual words of warning, and she had rolled her eyes at the whole big brother thing. He was so damn protective, he and Josh both. It had been an evening that demanded a little black dress and Beth felt like a princess, a sexy adult princess.
By eleven, she'd been getting tired, but she had made the effort to push through the constant exhaustion that plagued her, determined to be normal. By twelve, she'd lost her friends in the house somewhere, and by twelve fifteen, she was stuck in a room with the last person on earth her brother would want her to be with. By twelve thirty-five, she lay sobbing, her innocence gone. At one, Jack picked her up, concerned to see her so tired, but she had cleaned herself up real good. He would never know.
Her nightmares were filled with running and not getting away, of fear and hopelessness, of feeling so small, so hurt—
It sent her upright in her bed, her breathing ragged, and she saw that dawn washed the room with pale ethereal light. It was okay; she was here, home, at the D, grounded, safe. But the nightmare remained in her memories, and she knew where she would go now, where her nightmares always sent her now—
They sent her to find Jack.
* * * *
Jack had been up since five, his head buzzing with post beer and fight aches and pains, his ass just this side of sore, and his world a hell of a lot more complicated than a few weeks ago. He'd left Riley curled on the bed, the man not stirring when Jack's internal alarm clock had pushed him out of bed to see to the horses. It was his quiet time, leaning against the fence with coffee, looking over Campbell land, pride in his every pore at what his family had achieved. He smiled, remembering the sleeping giant in his bed rolling into his space as soon as he moved, cuddling into pillows and murmuring something in his sleep. It was all he could do not to climb back in bed just to hold his husband, kiss away the bruises around his left eye, and the cuts to one of his hands, but his babies needed him.
"Hey, big brother." Jack smiled at hearing the voice behind him. Beth had taken to standing with him at this ungodly hour, watching dawn paint pastels across the wide-open sky, claiming Miss Campbell Junior was tap-dancing on her bladder. Unbidden, she curled into his side, and he pulled her close, enjoying the touch.
"Hey, little sister," he said softly. "How's my niece doin' in there?"
"Moving it on up to level two," she replied, rubbing a hand on her belly and smiling ruefully.
"How did it go yesterday at the hospital? With all that happened we never—"
"Everything is good; the heartbeats are strong, hers and mine."
"I wanna come to the next one, talk to the doctor, maybe—"
"Jack, quit with your worrying; I'm doing well, and I have Steve with me. Speaking of whom…" Beth deliberately stopped there, waiting for the inevitable big brother response.
"What about Steve?" There it was— big brother worry, large as life.
"He makes me happy, Jack. I love him, and I know you and Josh worry." Jack stiffened imperceptibly, and then inch by careful inch, he relaxed.
"Not only is he years older than you, which I guess I'm kind of over now, but he's bi, Beth. I just worry. To settle on one…" He wasn't sure how to word it, but Josh had expressed the same concern last night.
"To settle on a woman like me when he could have all those men out there?" Beth offered wryly, causing Jack to blush.
"No, Beth, I didn't mean it like that. I like Steve, and he's a good friend to Riley. I like that he looks after you. Is that what you wanted to hear?"
"More than. So we have your blessing, then?" Jack hugged her tighter; reluctant to let her go, but knowing he needed to.
"Of course you do, baby girl, of course you do."
"Thank you, Jack. He makes me happy, makes me feel safe."
"Anyway," Jack continued, tongue firmly in cheek, "me 'n' Josh can always take him out by the barns and have a quiet word if he fucks it up."
"Ass."
* * * *
Lisa settled back in her chair, the book balanced on one knee, the glass of wine in the other. It was her favorite time of day, no Jeff shouting at her, and her son curled on her lap reading from the fairy tales in the big gilded book, the only real thing she'd brought to this marriage. It was quiet time, post school and pre-Jeff coming home. He had just called and left a message. He wouldn't be home until 10 pm, and that made her stretch her toes deliciously. Six whole hours of peace.
She winced at the pull of old bruises on her spine and cursed the need to lean forward. Carrying these marks may have become second nature now, but that sure as hell didn't make it any easier physically.
The nanny arrived to take the children to tea, and as usual, she kissed them both, feeling a little lost as they disappeared for their nutritionally appropriate meals. As the door began to shut behind them, a hand stopped it, and a soft voice came into the room.
"Lisa, may we talk?"
Lisa smiled. She had affection for Sandra Hayes, not love exactly but affection nonetheless.
"Of course." She patted the seat next to her, but Sandra just hovered. What was she waiting for? She looked pale, a little nervous, her eyes bracketed with tiredness. Finally it was as if she reached a decision and handed Lisa a wallet, filled with photos, some in color, some in black and white, some taken from a distance, some distressingly close up.
"Jeff's wome
n." Sandra said gently, sitting down next to her, allowing Lisa the time to look at them closer.
Lisa checked each photo, although it killed her to do so. Some of these women were just a little older than her daughter, than Jeff's daughter, and in each one, there were marks and bruises. Blood and cuts and, in the closer photos, she could see eyes full of pain. She twisted her hands together, tears rolling down her face. She'd always known he had a streak of hate in him, but as long as he kept his temper somewhat under control and his twisted demands away from her, she'd been able to blank the rest out. Yes, she'd felt his hands on her, and every time he took her he had to hurt, had to force. For the children she stayed. She lowered her head as shame flooded her. It wasn't just the children; it was the money, and the safety. Now she had the evidence of Jeff's indiscretions in glossy eight by tens on the chair next to her. She had known he strayed, but these pictures were horrific, bruised women, hookers with scars, cuts and black eyes.
"What do I do with these?" she finally asked. "I need to take them to the police or—"
"You need to do what's right for you and the children."
"I have to help these women—"
"There's nothing you can do for them now, but you need to get away from this family before this happens to you, or god forbid, one of the kids," Sandra said simply. Lisa just shook her head. She had no way out of this. She was trapped here in this prison of luxury. She had no independence, nothing. She stumbled to her feet, her arms wrapped around her chest.
