by BA Tortuga
He heard Duncan’s knuckles creak; then the seams on the man’s shirt started going. Sonny tilted his head, watching and waiting. Damn. It was like a movie. Or a TV show.
“Not going.” Duncan growled this time, leaned down, and snarled low. It was weirdly hot.
Cowboy reached up, one hand sliding around Duncan’s neck, and damn. They were suddenly in a clinch. Sonny sighed. So much for information.
MJ popped his head in. “Did you find out…. Oh, for fuck’s sake. No fucking in the galley. Jesus. Cowboy, I think your ass is getting saggy.”
Cowboy broke away from the bulgy one, staring over his shoulder at MJ. “You could bounce a quarter off it.”
“Do you have a quarter, Sunshine?” MJ didn’t look the slightest bit stressed out by big and bulgy.
“Not on me.” Yeah, considering he was wearing his boat pants. “Is anyone else wanting to do some legwork here?”
“Yeah. Right. Maps. Babe, quit playing with your monster. He’s burning the eggs.”
Shit. When had MJ gotten into the uppers? Sighing, feeling like a babysitter, Sonny went and turned off the eggs, sliding the slightly brown mess onto a plate for Paddy.
Cowboy grinned. “Looks like your man is grumpy, Jay-Jay.”
MJ flipped Cowboy off on his way out the door. “Yeah. Your point? We’re sort of in fucking loony land here.”
“Shut up, all of you. If you can’t say somethin’ nice, my momma always said.” Sonny grabbed the toast and headed over to Paddy, giving him a plastic fork.
“Thank you.” Paddy’s hands were shaking like leaves, the kid looking like hammered shit.
“No problem.” Hell, he hadn’t even slipped anything into the food. Yet.
“Is… I mean, is Boomer okay?”
“Yeah. He’s just in jitter mode.” He tried for a smile, figured he almost made it.
“Yeah. What can I do? I have my laptop. I’ll log in and research.”
“That might not be the best idea, honey.” MJ had ways of not being tracked. He doubted Paddy knew that shit.
“I need to help. He’s….” Oh, shit no. No more freaking out.
“Okay, then.” Sonny sat down and pushed the plate at the kid again. “Eat, then.”
“Uh. Okay?”
There were a bunch of serious crashes from the galley, then a puff of smoke from up near the wheel.
“Shit.” Sonny pondered his next move. Wheel. MJ needed to not blow up their only transport and shelter.
Paddy arched an eyebrow. “Smells like cordite, except cordite doesn’t smoke….”
“Shit.” Sonny headed for the damned wheelhouse, hoping to hell they weren’t completely fucked.
MJ had one of the spare laptops cracked open, sparks flying, the crazy asshole muttering.
“What the hell are you doing, Precious?”
“Building something.”
“Um.” He stared. It looked more like dismantling. But then, bulgy boy and the Texan were supposed to be helping, and they were fucking in the galley. Suddenly he wondered how stoned he had to have been when he tripped and fell in this damned rabbit hole.
MJ didn’t have pupils anymore. They were just irises. “Don’t stress it, Sunshine. I won’t blow up the boat. I’m trying to get to the zero track, see if there’s something I missed.”
“What does that even mean?” Shit. This was all getting too complicated.
“I….” MJ looked at him. “It means I’m scared and fucking desperate and willing to fuck around with electronics to try to find information that’s not there.”
“Oh.” Okay, he could deal with that. They were making progress if MJ could tell him that. “I think we need to get you and Paddy together now that he’s not so shocky. He thinks he has some sources to check.”
“Okay.” MJ stood up, jittering a little. “Did you feed him? Paddy. Not Cowboy.”
“Yeah. Cowboy’s getting a mouthful of something else.”
“Oh. Ew.” MJ turned a little green.
Well, at least that seemed to snap Precious out of it a little. “Come on. Let’s get with Paddy. You can hook him up, and he can look.”
“Yeah. Yeah, sounds good.” MJ grabbed one of the less smoky laptops.
“Cool.” By the time they got back to Paddy, the sounds from the galley had stopped, which suited him just fine.
Paddy was looking less calm, but it didn’t take long before MJ and the kid were head to head, muttering and typing like fiends. That might be a really bad thing, but it looked better than what MJ’d been doing before, so Sonny went with it. He went looking for Cowboy again.
He didn’t get a step or three before Cowboy was stumbling up the stairs, a hickey the size of one of those East Coast states on his throat.
“Jesus. Can’t you two keep your hands off each other for a minute?” Sonny snapped it out, fully aware that Neil had said something similar to him and MJ once.
Maybe two or three times.
Cowboy tilted his head, lips twisting. “No, son. I don’t believe we can. That boy fucks like a dream.”
“I’m sure. We do have a situation here, though.” He tried for a glare, but couldn’t quite get it to stick.
“Tell me about it. Mentioning California has Doc swelling up like a toad. I vote that’s where they’re headquartered.”
“That was where we picked up Paddy too. We think they have to be underground somewhere, so nowhere near the coast.”
Cowboy nodded. “Yeah. I reckon Duncan’s going to point our way. I have to get him over this California thing, if I’m going to get Jay-Jay’s momma for him.”
What? What the hell was MJ planning?
Sonny gripped his aching head, fingers scratching against stubble. “I need to… I think I need to eat.”
“Okay, son. You sit. Jay-Jay! Your boy’s not feeling good!”
MJ’s head whipped around, eyes flashing. “Sunshine?”
“Shit.” He summoned a grin. “My head hurts, Precious. I think I’m hungry.”
“Okay. I’ll be right back. You sit.” Poof. MJ was gone.
Alice. Rabbits. Caterpillars. Lalala.
Something soft and sweet pressed between his lips. “You know it’s love when a guy shares his Ding Dong stash.”
Sonny licked at the chocolate and cream, humming happily. “I deserve more love than this. But it’s a start.”
“You have this. Then there’s a sandwich and a big glass of tea.” MJ was right there, straddling his thighs.
“Oh. It must be a forever thing.” Somehow his head was feeling better already. Chocolate. MJ.
“You know it. Fucking eternal. I need to shave you.”
“You do. I was just thinking I was all fuzzy.” Okay, maybe he was the one who had been too tense, who had needed a bit of TLC.
“Mmm. You are. I’ll take care of it.” A sandwich was pushed into his hands; then MJ’s fingers landed on his temples.
“You. Oh, damn, Precious. More.” He wanted the sandwich, but he wanted the touches more. God, that made him all melty.
“Eat. I have you. I keep telling myself that we’ll go, rescue the Brit, blow something up, then retire.”
“How many times are we going to retire?” He was tired of retiring. It was costing them a boat every time.
“We could just quit.”
He rested his head against MJ’s, their foreheads pressing together. “They’ll keep coming. It’s you they want, Precious.”
“Yeah. Regret kidnapping me yet?”
“No. Never.” He meant that with every fiber of his being. Grinning, he rubbed noses with MJ. “I mean, I’d still be in business with Woody.”
MJ’s eyes rolled. “Right, because that deadweight gave you a challenge.”
“No, he gave me a headache. And occasionally a blowjob, but that was long before I met you.” Sonny thought a moment. “He’s dead, right? They would have killed him, back when we blew up the boat.”
“I hope so.” He almost got pissy, but there wasn’
t any heat in MJ’s eyes. “That’s got to be easier than what they’d do to him alive.”
“Yeah. Yeah.” Hell, he had no love for Woody, but no one needed to go through that.
MJ nodded, pushed the glass of tea into his hands.
“Thanks, Precious.” He ate his sandwich in a few quick bites and gulped down the tea. “I might live.”
“Good.” There was a wealth of shit in that one word, wasn’t there?
“Mmm.” He put one hand behind MJ’s head and pulled the man in for a kiss, ignoring Cowboy’s chuckle. MJ leaned into him, kissing him like they were alone.
He held on, knowing that was what he needed to cure his headache, the terrible hunger, and the niggling sense of worry that lingered in his gut. Just MJ. All day. MJ held the back of his head, fingers teasing the stubble there. Sonny finally closed his eyes and sank into the kiss, holding on, his mouth open to let MJ in. Damn. Yeah.
That hot tongue slammed into his lips, fucking his mouth like they didn’t have an audience.
Moaning into the kiss, he wrapped one leg up around MJ’s hips, letting his body do exactly what it wanted to do. Jesus. He needed.
“Mmm. We’ve been too busy.” MJ started moving faster, almost humping against him.
“We have.” He pushed up, rubbing like crazy, needing. Wanting.
MJ slipped down, snuggled between his legs. “Want.”
Rip.
Too bad he liked those shorts.
“Now.” On second thought, fuck the shorts. There had been a distinct lack of naked lately.
“Now works for me.” MJ grabbed his cock, started sucking good and hard, just like that.
“Christ!” His belly went tight and hard, his cock aching and hot and…. Goddamn.
MJ moaned all around his prick, the sound vibrating against him. Pushing his other leg out to brace against the deck, Sonny went to town, letting MJ have him. His balls felt like stones, they’d drawn up so hard.
MJ’s mouth was like a little vacuum, working him like nothing going. Hoover man. That was his Precious. Though, really, Sonny was usually the one to suck. He liked it. Loved it, when it was MJ, and it hadn’t been anyone else in a good long time.
One of MJ’s hands cupped his balls, fingers sliding behind to scratch that little strip of skin.
“Uhn!” Hips bucked up, his spine snapped straight, and Sonny came so hard he saw stars.
“Mmm.” MJ hummed around his prick, tongue hot on him.
“Precious.” That hair curled around his fingers, warm and springy. That ridiculous hair made him happy as all hell.
“Yeah, Sonny.” He could feel MJ’s smile.
“Better. Way better. I could do you too.”
“Mmm. Okay.” So easy, his Precious.
“Down.” He pushed MJ on the deck, sliding down on his knees. He needed that fucking amazing cock. Now.
MJ blinked at him. “Love when you want me.”
“Always want you.” Reaching into the soft board shorts, he pulled MJ’s cock out, thumb rubbing over the tip, pushing at the slit.
MJ groaned, thighs parted. “Fuck, yeah.”
“Fuck, you smell good.” Sonny bent and licked. “Taste good too.”
“For you. Come on, Sonny, I’m buzzed.”
“Mmm-hmm.” Humming, sucking, Sonny went all the way down, lips sealing tight around the base of MJ’s cock. Right there at the ink.
“Oh, fuck yeah.” MJ’s shoulders rolled up, those eyes burning at him.
He had this. He knew this. Yeah. Damn. He sucked harder, deeper, loving on that fine skin.
“Yours. Yours. Fuck, Sonny. Want.”
Yeah. Shit, he knew from want. He knew how it could grind, how much it ached. His hand came up, cupping MJ’s balls, pushing a little. He felt MJ’s thighs go tight under him, knew MJ’s toes were curling. Come on, Precious. That kept replaying in his head. Come on, give it up.
“Fucking love you, you redneck bastard.” The way MJ said it, it was like a prayer. Then that heavy cock pulsed, spunk splashing on his tongue.
Sonny closed his eyes, licking MJ clean, showing how much he loved that man right back.
“Mmm. Damn. Damn, Sonny.” MJ moaned, damn near humming.
“Mm-hmm. That was what I needed, Precious.” Pulling back reluctantly, he smiled into those blue eyes, loving MJ with all he had.
“Yeah. Yeah, I want this over, Sonny. Bad.”
“I hear you.” He glanced around, but they were alone now. “We just need to get it done, once and for all.”
“Yeah. Make them understand our position.”
“You know it.” Their position was that this was over. Period.
And they’d either get the message or they’d get dead.
Either way worked.
Chapter Thirty-Six
NO.
No.
He wasn’t going to go to the West Coast.
He hated California.
He couldn’t breathe there.
Duncan paced, nervous energy weighing on his shoulders.
No.
No.
Not that he could breathe on the boat. There were crazy people and having-sex people and…. And there was Cowboy, right there, hands coming to rest on his shoulders.
“Hey.” He tried to relax, to get his shit together.
He could do this.
He could.
See him get his shit together.
“Hey, honey.” Colby squeezed, making his muscles tense, then ease. “How’s it going?”
“Better now. I was a little freaked-out.” Did people still say “freaked-out”?
“I noticed.” They were alone now, in the bedroom below, and Colby was warm, leaning against him.
He let his eyes close, let himself relax a bit more.
“Mmm. Better. You know, I have to say, I’ve never seen Jay-Jay quite so… open.”
“He’s… different.” Which was a really nice way of saying psycho.
“Aren’t we all? So why don’t you tell me why you hate California?”
“I….” His brain went all static, the sound of bees in his ears.
“Come on. Tell me.” He could barely hear Colby through the roaring.
“Stop it.” He shook his head, trying to shake the static out.
“No. You need to tell me, Doc. Otherwise, I’m going into this thing blind. I need to know.” Colby was relentless.
“I can’t go back there. They’re waiting. J23.” He blinked. What the hell did that mean?
“J23.” Colby moved around to stand in front of him, hands on his shoulders. “Who’s waiting?”
“The….” The soldiers. The doctors. The doctors. Wait. Wait. That didn’t make sense. “Stop it.”
“I can’t.” Those serious gray eyes bored into his, almost hypnotic. “I have to know, Duncan. I have to.”
“I can’t remember. They’re just dreams. They aren’t even looking for me. They’re looking for him.”
J23.
That was who they wanted.
Him.
“Baby, please.” Pushing him down on a bench, Colby stepped between his legs, stroking his cheeks. “Tell me. Who are they?”
“Doctors. Soldiers. Both. Doctors with guns. I keep dreaming about them. It’s driving me crazy.”
“Oh man.” Moving in close, Colby straddled his legs, much like MJ had done to the big redneck a few moments ago. “Okay. It’s okay.”
“There’s a… hospital with no windows. Doctors with guns. Smoke. They keep asking for someone else, calling me someone else. It’s ridiculous.” Yes. Ridiculous. That was a much better answer.
“I bet it is. You know what, though? We’re not going to California.” Colby kissed the corner of his mouth.
“No?” That horrible, tearing tension disappeared with an almost audible pop. “Good.”
“Well, at least not your part of California.”
“What?”
Colby made his head swim.
“Well, I wasn’
t completely truthful. We do have to go to San Diego. Ish.” Colby grinned, the look as winning and fake as could be.
“Ish.” He wasn’t going. There was no way. He hated California. Hated it. His shoulders rolled, pressure growing behind them.
“We have to get MJ’s momma, honey. Then we can scoot, get as far away from California as possible.” So very earnest.
He nodded, but he couldn’t stop the rushing of the blood in his ears.
“Doc? You okay with this?” That look told him that Colby knew he wasn’t, but needed him to say he was.
“Sure. I’m good. Solid.” He’d be fine. He’d hit ground and….
Take him and run.
He wasn’t sure whose voice that was, but for once he just agreed with it.
“Cool. I owe Jay-Jay one, you know?” That grin made him blink. Cowboy could be so… mercurial.
“Yeah.”
Take him and run, Duncan. We take our man and we go.
He almost nodded.
Almost.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
“MOM. MOM, stop crying.” He closed his eyes, counted to fifty.
“Manning, someone stole your father. How does someone steal your father?”
Like he knew. Except he did.
“I’ll find him, Mom.” As if there’d be something to find. Jesus, Colonel, did you have to lose your fucking mind?
“Manning, I’m scared. What do I do?”
“I’m sending someone, Ma. A friend. You just get ready to go to ground, okay?”
He was going to kill something.
“But….”
“Just do it. I have to go.” Two minutes. That was all the time they had. “You’ll know him. He’s not like anybody else.” She started talking again, and he sighed, shook his head. “Bye. Love you, Mom.”
He hung up the phone and sat, counted to eighty-four, then put his fist through the wall.
Dude. Fiberglass stung.
Sonny was right there when he turned around to find something else to hit. “We need to dock, huh?”
“Yeah.” He snarled a little, his bones creaking with it.
“I’m sorry, Precious.” The words were quiet, real quiet. Sonny completely understood family, for all the man had none left.
