The Escape: Soren's Saga

by Nicky James

  “He’s not winning points with me so far.”

  I grinned and sat in the chair across from him. “Well, my sister had her baby last night I guess. In two weeks, they’re having a small family gathering. It’s a meet the baby kind of family Christmas crossover type of thing. My parents, who have disowned both me and Abel for being gay, are supposed to be there and the drama is promising to be epic in proportions. Like someone should probably call Dr. Phil and inform him epic. Anyhow, wanna come?”

  Remy chuckled. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  “Really?” Somehow, I expected him to need swayed or bribed. He was meticulous about where he ate and the places he’d go outside his home. Yet, he agreed without question.

  “Do you not have a birthday in December? Shouldn’t that be included in this multi-celebration?”

  I tilted my head, surprised he’d remembered. “I do, but they won’t care about that. You’d really go with me?”

  “Of course. Besides, I think it’s time I meet this brother of yours.”

  That could be interesting.

  That afternoon I was dragged away from Remy the moment we hit the studio and thrust into the arms of two men. Together, they worked their magic, dressing me and fixing my hair and makeup to the point of perfection. I didn’t even know why I’d bothered worrying so much earlier over how I looked. They’d changed everything about me in no time flat.

  When I was finally shoved in front of a mirror, I barely recognized myself. They’d put me in a tuxedo, far fancier and more expensive than anything I’d ever seen or worn in my life. It shimmered like black silk and was smooth to the touch. Under the coat, I wore a pressed white dress shirt with a matching silky black tie. My shoes shone in the bright lights and my hair… it was stunning. I didn’t want to think of myself as vain, but fuck I looked good. They’d styled it in a way that was messy, yet edged on sexy at the same time. Almost windblown, yet perfect. I needed to learn how to do that.

  My makeup was subtle, but it accented my eyes and highlighted my cheekbones in a way that again had me gawking.

  I couldn’t wait to show Remy. I was thrilled he’d come.

  When I made my way on set, Remy was talking to Brent who was busy setting up his gear. Brent caught my eye first and whistled which made Remy turn.

  I wished I could have videoed his reaction because it was a look I never wanted to forget. While Brent clapped and shook his head, I only had eyes for Remy who’d gone stock still. His lips parted as his gaze took me in, and he brought a fist to his mouth as he shook his head, looking about as awestruck as a person could look.

  I didn’t mean to ignore Brent, but I crossed to Remy and stood before him. “What do you think?”

  “Non ho mai visto niente di più bello.”

  “English, mister. You’re losing me.”

  He laughed, took my face in his hands and kissed me soundly right there in the studio. “I said, I’ve never seen anything more beautiful. You take my breath away.”

  My blood warmed right to my core. My cheeks flushed and all I could do was smile like an idiot.

  “Get out there and flaunt your stuff. You were made for this, Caro. Brent doesn’t even know the half of it yet.”

  For the following three hours I was in way over my head, as I learned the ins and outs of photography and modeling. Thank goodness everyone was patient with me, because there was a whole lot I didn’t know and needed to learn. By the time Brent was packing up, and I went to the changeroom to change, I was exhausted. Without a doubt, it had been a lot of fun, but I sure hoped it got easier.

  As planned, Remy took me for dinner. We ended up at Lavender’s, and unlike the first time we’d tried to go there, I was much more relaxed. I understood Remy could only manage a select few restaurants and since I didn’t much care where I ate, it was an easy compromise. I was curious how he’d be when we went to Indiana to visit my sister.

  Once we enjoyed our meal, it was time to apartment hunt. Remy had us lined up to see a few apartments that were in my price range and ones which were available for the beginning of December.

  The high I’d been riding all afternoon quickly drained away when he parked at the first complex.

  “The neighborhood is a lot better than where your last apartment was at least.”

  I didn’t respond and only shrugged as I looked out the window. There were trees and garden beds out front. The flowers had succumbed to the cool weather, but I could tell they’d been beautiful once. Benches and a trickling birdbath sat in a cozy corner to the left of the door under an overhang. It looked nice, but I made no effort to undo my buckle and get out.

  “You don’t like it?”

  Another shrug as I chewed the inside of my cheek. “It’s okay.”

  With encouragement, I exited and followed him on our tour of the one bedroom apartment located on the third floor. The paint was fresh and there was a lot more space than I was used to having. The carpet was old and worn in places, but it wasn’t awful. The appliances had seen better days, but they were scrubbed clean and glinted in the overhead lighting.

  When the landlord gave us a minute, Remy bent his head to my ear and lowered his voice. “What do you think?”

  I curled my nose and shook my head. “I don’t like it.”

  He pulled back and studied me for a moment longer, skepticism evident from my peripheral vision, but I refused to meet his gaze and scanned the empty space again.

  We headed to the next apartment on his list, and I was equally disagreeable there. The same occurred with the following and the one after that.

  He’d chosen some decent buildings in respectable neighborhoods, and all the apartments far exceeded what I expected I could afford, but I couldn’t bring myself to like any of them.

  By the time we’d viewed the fifth apartment on Remy’s list, and I’d shrugged and expressed my disinterest, he spun me around to look him in the eyes, taking my face so I couldn’t slink away.

  “Something is wrong and you aren’t telling me. You’ve been distant and negative since dinner. Talk to me. Why are you being so stubborn?”

  I tried to look away, but his fingers took my chin and held me in place. His brow quirked as he waited for a response. “I thought you wanted this, Caro. But nothing is pleasing you.”

  I frowned and again, tried to look away. It was silly and maybe even sounded childish, and I didn’t want him to think less of me.

  “Soren?”

  I sighed and met his gaze, unintentionally screwing up my face into a pout. “I just… I’ve never lived on my own before and I’m not so sure I want to. Maybe that just makes me sound like some stupid young kid to you, but whatever. I… I guess I was kinda hoping you wouldn’t want to get rid of me so quickly.” The second half of my statement was mumbled and nearly inaudible. I shoved Remy’s hand from my chin, feeling incredibly stupid, and walked away to the balcony doors where I pulled them open.

  The air was cold and I wrapped my jacket around me tighter, as I leaned on the railing and looked at the city lights below. The final apartment on our list was located on the tenth floor of a high-rise and the view was breathtaking.

  I heard the sliding door open and close, and Remy’s arms slinked around my waist from behind. Then, he rested his chin on my shoulder and spoke in my ear. “Never once have I thought of you as a child. I’ve seen your strength and your determination. I knew you didn’t like asking for help and never would. I’ve only ever wanted to be there to support you. Coming and staying with me was simply the consequences of a bad situation turned ugly. I only ever assumed that the moment you could get out and stand on your own two feet again, that you would do it.” He turned me around and peered down with seriousness in his dark eyes. “I’ve loved every minute of having you in my home. I’ve fought the urge to ask you to stay with me a hundred times. I was doing this for you, because I thought it was what you wanted.”

  I had too, until recently.

  “I don’t.”
<
br />   He brushed a strand of hair from my eyes. “Then what are we doing here, Caro?”

  “I don’t know. Isn’t it too soon?”

  Remy chuckled. “Is there a rule book somewhere that states the recommended length of time people should date before living together?”

  For the first time since we’d left the restaurant, I smiled. “Oh, believe me, if there was a rule book, you’d be the first to know, Mr. Straight-and-Narrow.”

  “You’re funny. Are we finished here, Caro?”

  “Yeah. Can we go home?”

  Remy pecked my lips and took my hand. “With pleasure.”

  Once back at the apartment, Remy parked and we walked hand in hand to the front doors. Just as Remy was unlocking the secured entrance, someone called out from behind.

  “Soren?”

  Remy’s hand tightened in mine and we turned together. He stepped forward and blocked me protectively as the man who had spoken emerged from behind the hedges. The entrance light didn’t reach him and he was cloaked in darkness. He wore a dark hoodie and it was drawn up, casting even more shadows across his face.

  “Who are you?” Remy asked.

  Whoever the man was, he brought a cigarette—no it wasn’t a cigarette, it was a joint—to his lips, taking a toke and holding it in his lungs before blowing wisps of smoke out the side of his mouth. He stepped forward and lowered his hood, peering around Remy.

  “Sor, it’s me. You have a minute?”

  “A.J?”

  He acted as though Remy wasn’t even there. A.J had rarely been intimidated by anyone, least of all Donny’s ticks—which he probably assumed Remy was.

  I dropped Remy’s hand and bolted forward to hug him. I’d heard from no one since The Escape had been shut down. The only thing I knew about my friends were what Remy had shared. And that information had come from Alessio.

  A.J squeezed me. He smelled heavily of pot and alcohol. Two scents I’d know without question. I pulled back from the embrace and looked at him. He looked different. Like really different. His bleach blond hair had been dyed dark brown and he’d even styled it in a way he’d never done before.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Acknowledging Remy for the first time, he peered over my shoulder to where I knew he hovered.

  “I’m leaving town. With all this shit going down with Donny and the club, I need to get away from here.”

  Of everyone I worked with, I knew for a fact A.J had it the worst. He’d been there the longest. He was Donny’s pet, his favorite. Donny’s main focus and the one who’d undergone the most abuse at his hand. But, A.J was also the only man who’d willingly taken the heat off us when it got too intense. He’d sacrificed himself more than once to save us having to endure Donny’s reminders. In fact, the last night I’d been there, he’d tried.

  “Did you talk to them? The police.” I lowered my voice, even though no one was around but the three of us.

  A.J shook his head. “They don’t need my testimony. Ash and Ryan both spoke up, along with about four or five other guys. There is no need for me to delve into my experience. They’d probably wanna lock me up to ensure I was mentally stable.”

  My stomach dropped. A.J had shared some of his experiences with Donny, but there was a whole lot more I didn’t know. “Where are you going?”

  “It doesn’t matter. I just needed to know you were okay. I needed to know this guy,” he nodded to Remy, “was legit and not fucking you up. You’re like my little brother, Sor. You know that, right?”

  He brought the joint to his lips again as I nodded. His glassy eyes reflected in the low light “Are you mad at me for talking?”

  The smoke passed through his lips and disappeared into the night. “No. It’s about fucking time someone did. Are you okay here?”

  “Yeah. He was never one of them. I… I got a new job and things are going well.”

  A.J stared into my face as though determining or ensuring I wasn’t lying. He always carried a lifetimes worth of mystery behind his eyes, but in that moment, it was amplified.

  He dropped the roach to the ground and took me into another hug. While he held me, he whispered so only I could hear. “I’m changing my number, but I will get it to you. If you are ever in trouble, you call me and I’ll find you again, got it?”

  I nodded into his shoulder and he patted my back one last time before releasing me. He stepped back a few paces and looked to Remy. “He’s one of my favorite people, you fuck with him, I’ll find you.”

  That made me flinch and flip my gaze from Remy to A.J. It wasn’t like him to utter threats. He was acting so differently. As he continued to retreat, he drew his hood up again before rounding the hedges and going off into the night.

  A sick sense of disquiet imbedded itself in my gut. A.J was always the one who worried over us, and made sure we were okay. But as I stood there and stared at the last place I’d seen him, I couldn’t help but be flooded with concern for him.

  There was a whole lot more to his story I obviously knew nothing about. I could only hope he’d make out all right.

  When a few minutes passed, I turned back to Remy who watched me intently. I didn’t know what to say. I’d feared what might happen to all my friends once Donny’s closed, and so far, it had been a lot like I expected. We’d become scattered and lost touch.

  “Come on, Caro, there is nothing you can do.”

  I dropped my gaze to the ground and nodded as I followed him into the building.

  Chapter Nineteen

  REMY

  There was a loud curse, followed by a clattering of metal against metal, then something crashed to the floor. I cringed and glanced to the closed door to the kitchen.

  “Do I want to know?”

  “Umm… No. Just stay out there,” Soren called.

  I stared at the wooden surface of the door a moment longer before returning to my work. Ignoring what was happening on the other side of the wall was impossible.

  Soren had been living with me for nearly a month and until that point, I’d been the sole chef in the house. That night, however, Soren had insisted he’d make us dinner. While he’d been busying himself for the last hour in secret, I’d made attempts at catching up on some extra work before we left for Indiana the following day.

  Concentrating was proving impossible and I began to fear for the state of my kitchen. When he’d suggested cooking, I’d gently declined. Then, he’d insisted, and I made offers to buy dinner instead. That was when I’d hurt his feelings and he’d sulked, informing me he may not be the best chef in the world but he did make a mean casserole.

  So, because I had the willpower of a dog being offered a raw steak when it came to Soren, I found myself locked out of my own kitchen, anxiously awaiting dinner.

  I tried again to read, but found I continually had one ear cocked to what was happening in the kitchen and decided it was time to quit. Leaning back in my chair, my gaze fell again to the stack of mail beside me. That afternoon, Soren and I had received the results of our blood tests and as much as I would never admit it to him, I’d breathed a sigh of relief when I’d discovered his was clear.

  When I’d asked him if he’d been careful when working at Donny’s, the word mostly had stuck in my mind and ate at me constantly over the past few weeks. I hadn’t asked him to elaborate and instead waited patiently for results, while I tried not to get my shirt in a knot. The weight that lifted off my shoulders when he opened that envelope was a lot heavier than I realized. Seeing his own relief pass over his face made me wonder how much concern and stress he’d carried over it as well.

  I shut down the document and returned my laptop to my office. When I returned, Soren had emerged and was setting the table.

  “Almost ready. Are you hungry?”

  I answered automatically, “Yes, starving.” Even though I’d been too worried over the past hour to even think about having an appetite.

  “Good.” Soren beamed and returned to the kitchen. A short time
later, he came out with a steaming hot baking dish and placed it on a wooden trivet in the middle of the table. He pulled off his oven mitts and tossed them aside before posing with his hands on his hips. “Tada! Dinner is served.”

  I sneaked a look into the pan. Whatever he’d made was smothered in cheese and baked to a golden crispy brown. It sizzled and popped as it cooled. It didn’t smell bad either, so I cautiously asked. “What kind of casserole did you make?”

  “Well… It’s kinda Mac n’ Cheese a la Hotdog, with le extra formaggio—that’s cheese—on it and baked in the oven.”

  I needed to bite back a laugh. “I know what formaggio is, Caro.”

  “Yeah, I’m trying. Your language is all tricky.” He grinned.

  “So, you made me box dinner with hotdogs?”

  “And extra formaggio.”

  There was no containing it. I laughed. Hard.

  “What?” Unable to stop himself, he laughed with me. “You are laughing at my food, aren’t you?”

  I couldn’t catch my breath long enough to even answer him. I grabbed his hand and pulled him to me, lifting him so he automatically wrapped his legs around my waist.

  He buried his face in my neck and we kept laughing. “Oh my God, you hate me, I can’t cook. I tried, I swear.”

  Bringing his head up, I worked at calming myself enough to speak. “I’ll eat every last mouthful, but promise me, next time, we go out.”

  He leaned his head against mine, the light of his smile not allowing and ounce of darkness into the room. “The kitchen is a disaster. Are you sure you don’t hate me?”

  “I’m sure. Quite the opposite.” I captured his lips and we shared a moment before breaking apart. Our laughter had calmed and he watched me with question behind his eyes. What I wanted to say was on the tip of my tongue, and had been for over a week. But like each time previous, the timing didn’t feel right so I remained quiet. “Let’s eat, I’m starving.”

  He slid down off me and beamed as he dished out two plates of food and set them down at our places respectfully. I pulled out a chair and joined him.