by Avril Ashton
That was what she meant earlier. Bringing up that time. She thought he’d be there to save her again. Nausea hit him, full force. “Doc. Let me— I have to go.”
“Oh. Yes. Of—”
Is threw the phone against the wall and doubled over, expelling the contents of his stomach right there.
His mother. Cutty had done it, he’d taken her. And Is didn’t even know why he hurt so badly, why his heart ached, why the tears mixed with the blood on his face. Or maybe he did.
He’d been her son.
* * * *
A week since he’d been back in New York. A week since he’d seen or heard from Is. Reggie tried calling, but got no answer. He didn’t bother leavings messages. Is knew he would be waiting for him. But not forever. At some point Reggie was gonna get up and go find him.
After waiting until his mother left for work, he came back to his own place. Of course, she already rung him up to call him all kinds of ungrateful, warning him that she’d be by later with dinner and to make sure he was taking the meds the docs had prescribed.
He was fine. He felt fine. The bullet wound was still tender, but healing. He didn’t need to be coddled, but that was all his mother was about. Her hovering frustrated the hell out of him until he had to sneak out. God.
He just wanted to sleep in his own bed after such a long time away. Having Is next to him would have made it perfect, but tonight was the last night he was willing to do this. Is had to deal with Cutty, but Reggie knew where Is went in his head when he had to take a life. It wasn’t a pretty place and he worried.
They hadn’t talked much about them, about what being them meant in the larger scheme of things. It wasn’t a conversation Reggie relished having to initiate, but he needed to know. He also had to tell his parents something. His mother still insisted on trying to set him up.
He took a much-needed shower and pulled on some pajamas then stepped into his bedroom only to stop short. Is stood there, back against the opposite wall. He wore a black hoodie pulled over his head, the sweater unzipped to show a white tee underneath. His right foot was propped flat on the wall, a thumb hooked his belt buckle with his head down.
His heart leapt in his chest. “Stranger.”
Is lifted his head, eyes somber. “Hey.”
“Where you been?” Reggie walked over to him, damp towel still around his neck.
Is watched him, eagle-eyed, but he didn’t move a muscle. “Had some business needed tending to.”
“Cutty.”
“Yep.”
Reggie sank onto the bed facing Is, knees braced apart. “And?”
“Handled.”
“Good.” Reggie beckoned to him. “Come.”
He came, two strides and he was on his knees in front of Reggie, face buried in Reggie’s middle, arms swooping around him to hold him tight. His lips pressed to Reggie’s wound, tender, despite the way Is’ body shook. Reggie allowed it for a moment then he cupped the back of Is’ head and tilted his head back to catch his gaze.
“The next time you decide to go M.I.A. for a week you’d better make sure I’m right there next to you.”
Is licked his visibly trembling lips. “I love you, Reg.”
Reggie nodded solemnly. “I know that.”
Is caught Reggie’s hand and brought it to his chest, over his heart. “You make my heart beat.”
There was a wild desperation in Is’ eyes that Reggie recognized from that first time they met. But something else was happening. Something that made Is appear as if he was in mourning.
“What’s wrong?”
“Jacqueline’s dead.” His Adam ’s apple shifted rapidly. “Slit her wrists, laid in her own blood, and waited for me to come rescue her like I did when I was ten.”
“Jesus Christ.” Reggie’s heart ached for the pain in Is eyes. His lover had a love-hate thing going with his mother. As mental as Jacqueline was, as deeply as she’d gutted Is’ young life, he still clung to her like that ten year old, drowning. “When?” he asked.
“Three days.” Is looked away when his breath hitched. “Cutty did it, sent his son to give her the razor. Because I threatened to take his son, so he decided to take my mother.”
“Jesus, Is.” Why hadn’t Is reached out to him before now? But he already knew the answer so Reggie didn’t bother to ask the question. This was Is. He’d handle it all himself and live quietly with the aftermath, even though Reggie could see how it tore him up. “What do you need?” he asked. “Tell me what you need.”
“You.”
Simple yet hoarse and raw, that single word stripped Reggie down, ripped him open, and flayed him to the fucking bone. He bled for Is. For the pain and loss in his eyes. He bled.
Breath whistled past Is’ nostrils. “You’re the only good thing in my life. The only safe place. I just need you.”
“You already have me,” Reggie whispered. “You already own me.”
Is lurched upward and kissed him, hard and punishing, knocking their teeth together and cutting the inside of Reggie’s lip. He grabbed at Is as they tumbled backward onto the bed, yanking on his clothes while struggling to unbutton his jeans. He only had two hands and they were all over Is, pushing the hoodie off his shoulders, pulling the t-shirt over his head.
Is’ rough palm grasped Reggie’ cock, squeezed him, and Reggie cried out into the kiss. His lover’s touch was feverish, desperate, needing. Reggie didn’t mind it one bit. He would give Is whatever he needed to feel better, to fight the sorrow that clouded his eyes and voice, and he’d get what he wanted in the process. Felt as if he’d been without this forever and he couldn’t wait, couldn’t slow down, couldn’t think from want of it. He bit at Is’ mouth, unbuttoning his belt with fumbling fingers as Is stroked him, hard jerks, the pleasure lifting his hips and making his dick drool.
A dry finger eased past his balls, touched his hole and he drew his legs up, crying out into Is’ mouth. “God. Fuck. Lube. Lube.” He motioned with one hand, the other was too busy pulling Is’ shaft out of the confines of his boxers.
Is reached out blindly, never releasing the mind-numbing hold he had on Reggie’s cock or stopping their kiss. All the shit from Reggie’s nightstand crashed to the floor. He didn’t even look. All he cared about was that when Is brought his fingers back to him, they were cool, slick, and they felt fucking fine dipping into him.
“Ungh.” He keened, high and long. “Yes. Is. Fuck.”
He didn’t have the chance to get used to one before the digits multiplied by two. He grasped Is’ ass, tugging his jeans down past his taut ass and lifting his legs to wrap them around Is’ lean waist.
“In. Fuck, in.”
Is growled into his mouth and the fingers disappeared. Then his knuckles grazed the swell of Reggie’s ass just as his cock head poked him, breached him, killed him.
“Christ.” Is shuddered. “Feels…” He threw his head back and slammed in.
Reggie saw the fucking stars as he shouted out his pain and his pleasure. “Yes.” They hadn’t even discussed unprotected sex, but right now he didn’t have a fuck to give about that. He hooked his ankles above Is’ ass and clung to him, nails scouring his back as he rode him, taking him over and over, deeper and deeper.
“Faster,” he begged. He wanted it all, everything, and he couldn’t control himself. He was scratching the shit outta Is, slamming down on his cock, while Is bent his head and started biting the fuck out of Reggie’s neck. That sent him wild.
“I can’t get enough,” Is panted against his skin. “Taste so good, all over.” He pulled out then plunged in. “All over.”
“Oh, God.” He didn’t know if Is meant to or not, but he was hitting Reggie’s spot, dead on, with each thrust. Reggie squeezed a hand between them and pulled on his dick. “Is. Is.”
Is sank his teeth into Reggie’s chest, just plain biting his ass. Reggie spasmed, body bowing, balls aching as his blood spiked. Red hot pleasure shot through him like bolts of fucking lightning and he was coming, c
um spewing hot all over his hand, all over Is who followed right behind him with a hoarse yell.
His hot cum lit Reggie’s spine on fire and he lurched upright, grinding back on Is, panting into his chest.
Nothing like it.
“Nothing like this,” Is choked out at Reggie’s temple.
Fuck, no. Nothing.
* * * *
In his sleep, Reggie rolled onto the body burning hot next to him and hummed his contentment. A sound echoed, but he dismissed it, pressing kisses to the naked skin under him with his eyes closed.
Is tensed and tried to pull away.
Reggie murmured and chased after him, licking the hard nipple that brushed his jaw.
“Reg.” Is nudged him.
“Hmm.”
“Wake up,” Is growled. “Now.”
Reggie opened his eyes and glared at him. “What?”
Is nodded to the room. “We’ve got company.”
They had— Reggie followed the direction Is indicated and almost fucking fainted when he saw his parents.
In his bedroom. At the foot of his bed.
Staring at him and Is.
The horror on their faces were brutal.
His mother covered her mouth and ran out the room, his father on her heels.
“Well, fuck.” He looked at Is.
“You can say that shit again.”
“Well, fuck.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Reggie launched himself off the bed and pulled on his pajamas with quick, jerky movements, cursing all the way. “Fuck. That was not the way I wanted them to find out.”
Is rolled over. “But you wanted them to find out, yeah?”
Reggie stopped and gaped at him. “Hell yeah. I just, I wanted to be the one to tell them.”
Is’ mouth twisted. “You get to tell them now.”
Yeah. After they’d already seen way more than he ever wanted them to. Reggie grabbed the nearest t-shirt he found, Is’ white tee, and put it on. “Okay.” He took a breath. “Wish me luck.”
Is swung to a seated position and swung his legs over the side of the bed. “I’m not letting you do this alone.” He picked up his jeans and tugged them on. “Let’s do this.”
Reggie looked at him, with his broad chest all exposed, and sent up a prayer.
They walked out into the living room together. His parents were on the couch, his father’s arms around his mom, as she sobbed into his chest.
“Mom.”
Her sobs got louder.
Reggie bit his lip. “I’m sorry you had to see that. I didn’t want you guys to find out this way.”
His mother jerked away from her husband. “My son,” she pointed a trembling finger at Reggie. “My son is no homosexual. My son is not one of those-those people.”
Reggie felt then the way he’d felt as a teenager when his father had walked out and his mother collapsed in on herself. Helpless. And the cause of it all.
He stood there, hands fisted, and tried to find a way to make her feel better. Unlike then when he’d go out and steal, snatch purses, break into cars and houses to buy her something expensive, he had nothing but the truth.
“Is and I are together.” A steady hand rested on his shoulder. He didn’t see Is, but Reggie felt him at his back, rock steady.
His mother rocked back and forth, arms wrapped around her middle.
“This is what you meant when you said you’d met someone?” His father looked at him then his gaze flicked past Reggie to Is.
“Yes.”
“In the name of Jesus,” his mother began chanting. “In the name of Jesus.”
“Mom, please. Will you just listen?” Reggie went to her, got down on his knees and reached for her hand. She pulled away.
“Get him away from me,” her booming voice was extra loud, extra hurtful. “Junior,” she looked to her husband. “Get him away from me.”
Reggie sat back on his haunches and swallowed as she cringed away from him. The words cut him, of course they did, but her actions, they tore him apart. He blinked. “I love Is and he loves me. We’re together.”
“Son—”
“The Bible says man shall not lie with man,” his mother shrieked. “My son will not.” She emphasized the last word with a slash of her hand. “My son is not a deviant.”
“You’ll listen to words in a book written by people as human as you and me, but you won’t listen to your son?” Is asked.
Hate darkened his mother’s face and she jumped to her feet. “You.” She slapped Is across the face. “What did you do to my son?”
Is’ nostrils flared and a pulse leapt at his temple.
“Mom!” Reggie grabbed her wrist. “Don’t hit him again.”
“Pauline.” Reggie’s dad came up to her and pulled her to him. “You can’t do that.”
“I didn’t do anything except love your son. Unconditionally.” Is sneered at her. “Can you say the same? Are you only his mother when he’s doing what you want? Do you only love him when he’d doing what you say?”
“Satan.” She spat in Is’ face. “Get thee behind me.”
Her husband jerked her away and thrust her behind him.
“Get out.” Reggie went to Is and wiped his face. His heart was fucking break. “Mom, get out.”
“You’re my son.” She struggled against his father’s hold. “I was in labor nineteen hours with you. I was there when you were in and out of jail.” Her face was wet, eyes red, and the gold bangles on her wrists clinked as she gestured wildly. “You’re my son and I will not allow you to do this.”
Reggie gritted his teeth. “There is no allowing, Mom. I’m in a relationship with this man. I love this man and if you can’t accept it we’re done. You won’t disrespect him, you won’t disrespect me. I love you,” his voice broke. He couldn’t help it. Is touched him, just a hand at his neck, but it gave Reggie enough strength to say, “You’re my mother. You’re supposed to love me no matter what. You loved me through running the streets, though dealing drugs and killing people.”
Her face contorted and she recoiled. “He got you shot, you almost died, and this is who you chose?”
“Do you know how many men I’ve killed, Mom?” He walked over to her. “You might not know the number, but you know for damn sure that I have killed. And you loved me, didn’t you? You tried setting me up with the women in your church, your son, the killer. You loved that son, didn’t you?”
She lifted her hand as if to hit him. Reggie didn’t flinch.
“What does your Bible say about killing, Mom? You live in the house I bought with all the drug and blood money. What does your fucking book say about that?”
His father just stood there, nutless and spineless as usual when it came to his wife. Reggie didn’t expect anything from him.
“Reg.”
“You put your God before your son?” Reggie asked. “Is that the kind of God you serve, one who’d tell you to turn your back on your own flesh and blood?”
Is came and stood next to him. “It’s not worth it, Reg.”
Reggie could see that. He could see that his words weren’t registering with her. She’d already made her mind up.
“Get out of my house.” His voice shook. “Get out.”
They flinched and he turned away, burying his face in Is’ neck. His lover held him tight as footstep retreated and the door slammed then he completely fell apart. Is’ hold didn’t falter as Reggie’s heart broke all over him.
“I’m sorry.” He finally lifted his head to peer up at Is.
Is grimaced. “Fuck, Reg. I’m the one who’s sorry.” His lips tightened. “You just lost your family, man. Because of me.”
“No.” Reggie shook his head emphatically. “My family is here.” He kissed Is, just a press of their lips. “My family is you.”
Emotion clouded Is’ eyes. His throat worked. “I won’t ever walk away,” he promised hoarsely. “I won’t ever put that look on your face, in your eyes.”
&nb
sp; “I’m holding you to that.”
* * * *
A week since that fiasco with Reggie’s parents. It affected Is deeply, still did, so he knew it had to be ten-fold for Reggie. His lover didn’t talk about it though, he never brought it up, but Is could see that his parents’ rejection cut deep into Reggie’s soul. Is blamed himself.
Sometimes.
And other times the anger at what Reggie’s mother did and said almost had him driving over to her house and confronting her. It wouldn’t do any good so he left it alone, but he wanted, needed to take away that sense of loss that Reggie carried around with him.
Is dealt with his own pain, too. He had Jacqueline cremated and her ashes scattered in the lake at Central Park. Reggie had been there with him, providing strength when Is was fresh out. He mourned the woman she used to be, before her mind got warped and she became everything he feared. He mourned the boy he used to be. The family he never had.
He mourned them all over again. He’d never get to know his true origins, but did it really matter at this stage in the game? He’d finally figured out that the starting point didn’t matter so much as the finish. He was who he was.
Reggie loved the man he was, so he couldn’t be all bad.
Tonight, they were at X and Dima’s place in Scarsdale for the impromptu surprise party X decided to throw for Dima’s birthday. Personally Is thought X was on a suicide mission. One didn’t simply surprise Dima Zhirkov. That was how people got shot. The party was a small affair, a few people, all close to their circle. There were a few Is didn’t recognize, who he figured were there for Dima. He did recognize one of the men who’d been with Dima in that basement where they’d held Is.
Anton. He’d shot Is an “oops” look as he walked by with a stunning woman Is figured was his wife. If Is had been in the same mindset as before he’d have found some way to pay back Dima and his men, but they’d been engaged in mutual combat. He’d have done the same.
So he let it go.
“Wassup, cuz?” X walked over and pulled him into a hug. “Where your man at?”
Is stepped back and nodded over to where Reggie stood sipping a beer and talking to Teo and his husband.
