by J. C. Owens
Now he would lose everything for a moment’s bliss.
“Chase.”
He froze, fingers clenching into the duvet, eyes wide and blindly staring at the wall.
His bed dipped beneath the weight of a heavy body.
“Chase, enough. Turn and face me.” The command was light enough, but he obeyed anyway, though he could not tilt his face to meet those intense eyes.
“Chase, Peter spoke to you about what you were feeling. You know this is just growing pains, a need to love someone.”
Something rose with him then, a rushing, pulsing rage he could never remember feeling before. He sat up, almost nose to nose with Enzo, grim determination driving him forward.
“Peter does not have a clue about this. Neither do you. I know what I feel, and it is not mere infatuation. Don’t mock me!”
In some part of his mind, he was gibbering in horror at his words, at his actions, but something else drove him on. No one, not even Enzo, was going to get away with lessening what he felt. It was pure and clean and good, the best thing he had ever had in his life, and no one was going to destroy that.
The Martinelli was expressionless, nothing to glean as to his reactions to Chase’s strange behaviors, both now and in the dining room.
“You have been greatly hurt in your life. I know you want someone. And you will find that someone, but it cannot be me.”
He felt as though his very being were shattering into the tiniest of pieces.
“Why?” He hated the tremble in his voice. He wanted to be strong, to show his mentor that his feelings were not a child’s whim, but a true, adult passion.
Enzo reached out and gently traced his jaw with the lightest of touches, making him shiver.
“My boy, there are a multitude of reasons. Too many even to count.”
“You think I am filthy.” He felt his voice crack, tears finally rising to his eyes.
Enzo shifted to grasp his shoulders and shake him slightly, enough that he had to look up and see the truth in his guardian’s expression, the anger there.
“Never, Chase! I feel great admiration for your courage. Many could never have risen to the surface after such pain. You, you have done so much more. You are strong, brave and so intelligent. Never speak of yourself as anything less, do you understand me!”
He choked with shock, staring wide eyed at Enzo, speechless for long moments. At last he burst out, following the line of thought foremost in his mind.
“Why then? If you don’t see me as tainted, then why? There are no reasons great enough…”
Enzo dropped his hands, ensuring no touch enjoined them.
“There are many reasons. And you need to understand them, so you can move on from this and find someone for you, someone with the purity of spirit that you possess. I cannot give you anything but support, my boy. My world…” He gave the faintest of smiles, the twist of his lips showing a hint of bitterness. “I am not for you, Chase. Everything about me is nothing that you should touch. It is bad enough that I have brought you into my home, making you a target, but I could not just leave you alone after what you had gone through. That is why I keep you separate from everything I do.”
Chase stared at him. “I don’t care,” he finally whispered. “I don’t care what you do or what you have done. I just want to be with you completely. Your friendship is everything to me, but my feelings are so much more. I cannot just deny that now, not when I have told you.”
Enzo’s eyes seemed a little sad, a little less hard for brief moments, before darkening back into implacability. “I am a killer, my boy. Coldhearted, brutal. I lead a life on the wrong side of the law, and my business brings harm to many. Many have died under my hand or by my orders. That is not someone to admire or to love. You need someone normal, someone who can give you a beautiful life.”
“I just want you,” he blurted, desperate. “I don’t care about the rest.”
Enzo shifted, and suddenly a blade lay on his throat, making him freeze in shock.
“Just weeks ago, I tortured a man, had my men kill him. I gloried in his blood, in his death.” The shadows in Enzo’s eyes flashed to full life, a certain madness glowing in the depths. “I kill, Chase. That is who I am.”
He stayed steady against the blade, no fear evident in his demeanor.
“No,” he denied. “That is not who you are. That is what you were molded into by your father, your family. That is not what lies here.” He laid a gentle hand over Enzo’s heart. “I have heard the stories from Kirith. From a child, you were groomed to be the Martinelli, to kill, to lead killers. I don’t believe that that is what you are. If you were what you think, you would never have taken me in. You would not be capable of loving your brother, your niece. You would not care for your people. You would thrive on the fear and pain of all those around you—not just your enemies—and you do neither. Please, Enzo.” The name came with difficulty. “I need you, and you need me. Let me show you what life can be like when you are loved. Please…”
The Martinelli rose to his feet, the knife disappearing with an experienced flick. “You do not know what you speak of. You are almost half my age, and you have so much to experience. I would be the one to destroy you, and that I could not live with.” The tone was final.
Chase rose from the bed, and approached with courage born of desperation. He reached up and cupped Enzo’s cheek, letting all that he felt shine clearly through his expression.
“I am not a child. I don’t think I ever have been. You are the only one who has ever given a damn whether I lived or died or was ever worth more than a fuck. I have seen horrors, experienced them. I am not a little innocent who does not know his mind. I may not be the strongest of souls, but I know what I feel and the depth of it. I love you,” he breathed and wrapped an arm around Enzo’s neck, drawing him down to meet his lips.
Enzo did not resist, did not respond, but Chase did not give up, licking over those beautiful lips, giving the faintest of moans at the taste.
The sound seemed to break something in the other man’s demeanor.
Enzo reached up, stroked back a lock of Chase’s hair, and opened his lips.
“This is wrong, all wrong,” he whispered, and Chase’s grip tightened.
“No, it is right, perfect. Just give me this, please. I’m clean. You know that. I was tested after you rescued me and I have been with no one since. I only want you. I’ll beg if you want.”
Enzo shuddered, and Chase felt a thrill of victory sweep over him. “I’m yours. All yours. I want you so much. Show me what it is like to find pleasure. Show me what making love is like, instead of a fuck. Cleanse them from me.”
Enzo raised his hands to Chase’s shoulders and lay them there, flexing with his thoughts, his body tense, as though he prepared to push away.
“Please,” he repeated, softly, pleading in his eyes, keeping them fixed on Enzo, willing him to accept, to…
“There is no such thing as love within me.” Those lips left Chase’s, and a coldness came over Enzo’s features, the shadows clear and present within his eyes. “I am sorry, but I cannot give you what you need and want.” He brought one long finger up to trace over his lips, then the Martinelli stepped back, turning away toward the door. He paused there, one hand on the doorframe, but not looking back to meet Chase’s tear-filled eyes.
“Fammi un favore, Chase. I know this is difficult, but do not let this come between us. I—value your presence here and I do not wish…” He shook his head. “I cannot cleanse you. I can only hurt you far more than even Marcello managed. See me more clearly, and you will know there is nothing good that can come from this. Let us go on as we have.”
There was silence as though he waited for an answer, but Chase was incapable of speaking, he could only clutch at his chest, at the pain that spiraled there in uncontrollable waves.
Enzo’s fingers clenched for a moment on the frame, white-knuckled, the only visible response, before he stepped out, closing the door quietly
in his wake.
Chase slid to the floor, a choking sob rising to his throat.
Chapter Six
Enzo leaned on the stone balustrade, drink in hand, brooding gaze fixed upon the manmade lake that lay below the vast villa, the moon reflected in its still waters. The view always calmed him, made the darkness that often drove him into restless and sleepless nights recede at least for a time. Tonight it held no serenity to ease his turbulent thoughts.
The breeze caressed over his naked form, a welcome relief after the heat of the day, but even that could not divert him.
He took a deep draught of the potent scotch, wishing it could dim his memories of the events that had transpired earlier.
Good God—Chase…the way he had almost begged. Telling Enzo he had not slept with another… That knowledge had almost driven Enzo to the edge. To know the boy was clean, as Enzo’s latest test had shown he himself was, was a temptation almost more than he could bear. To be able to take him without any impediment between them…
He swore under his breath, trying to drive away the taste of that kiss. The boy had no idea of the potency of his emerging sexuality. He was healing—finally—and his libido was coming back into being. He was a healthy, beautiful, sexy young man who could have any number of admirers if he chose to open himself to the outside world. When he went to college…
The smash of glass echoed through the quiet night, and he blinked at the expensive liquor dripping down the wall from the force of his throw. The broken shards of his glass lay scattered over the balcony, glittering in the moonlight, and he glared at them for long moments, fighting the rage that rose within him. Violence rose like a specter, and he turned away from the night air, sweeping aside the curtains to his room.
Ren rose to one elbow, knuckling his eyes sleepily.
“Why are you still awake, mio amore?”
Those green eyes widened when they took in the predatory intent evident in every movement as Enzo stalked closer.
The rage rose higher. This was not who he wanted at this moment, but he would do.
He tried to shake off the rage. Ren was a friend, one of few and though he was always eager to absorb anything Enzo was willing to give, he should not hurt…
The anger spiraled higher, his thoughts becoming disjointed, vague.
He was distantly aware of flinging Ren over to his stomach and watching as his lover parted his thighs in invitation, back arching, a wanton moan making Enzo want him, now.
He fumbled for a condom, his breath shallow, almost panting with sudden powerful need. It rolled on and he positioned himself, brutal fingers sinking into the flesh of Ren’s hips.
Enzo’s sheathed cock speared him deeply and viciously, making Ren arch and scream, fingers clawing at the bed.
He sucked in breath and snarled in response, driving his hips into the heat that encased him. Ren met the fury, impaling himself on Enzo’s cock with glorious abandon. Enzo did not speak, did not attempt to ensure Ren’s comfort, he only set a hammering pace, deep and hard, that had Ren moving an arm in front of his head to protect himself, as he was driven against the massive headboard with relentless ferocity.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Ren’s voice was ragged.
Enzo’s breath began to echo in the room, coming in sharp, swift grunts, his anger a physical entity that encased them both.
He had never had a lover as intense as Ren, who could take what he dished out with such enthusiasm.
Would Chase… He groaned and thrust the thought away. Not now, he could not think of Chase that way, he could not.
Enzo gritted his teeth, clenching his eyes shut as the latest thrust actually lifted Ren’s hips up and speared deeper than he had ever gone. So deep, so hot… He snarled, his thoughts once more spiraling away, his brutality rising.
Ren shouted a curse at an especially deep thrust.
“Yes, Jesus, harder—fuck it—oh yeah…” He drew in a gasping breath. “Ram me, baby! Show me you fucking own me!”
Enzo growled, a low ominous sound that made Ren shiver. He thrust harder, rotating his hips, the frenzy overcoming him, his body tightening, twisting, shuddering…
It seemed like forever, and yet only a moment before his orgasm came out of nowhere to slam him hard, breath freezing, body arched, feeling every inch of his cock as it continued to pound Ren’s channel with relentless force.
It ended abruptly. Enzo gave a choked, haunted cry, his body pressed tightly to Ren’s, fingers flexing upon already bruised flesh, his head thrown back for a long moment, as his body ruled his mind, driving away the darkness for a brief, precious time.
At last, he slumped over Ren. He felt Ren’s body writhe beneath him, hot cum splashing over his belly and Ren’s chest. Then they stayed frozen in tableau, panting, exhausted.
It took time for the smaller man to draw Enzo down gently upon sweat-wrinkled sheets.
“I am here for you, my friend. Always.” He kissed Enzo’s sweat-moist brow and drew him closer, a smile curling one side of his mouth, his eyes gleaming in the dim light.
Enzo searched for the peace, the comfort he had always felt in Ren’s arms, but it was missing and he was all too afraid he knew why.
He let Ren stroke his body softly, but there was no after-release glow. No need for touch. He closed his eyes, the anger still simmering, but banked now, controllable once more.
Somehow, they would all get through this.
They had to.
He could not lose Chase.
The phone rang shrilly, persistently, and Kirith groaned, turning from Landon’s warmth, to grope on the bedside table for the infernal thing that had roused him from deep sleep. His fumbling fingers finally located the device, and he managed the Herculean task of tapping the screen before pressing it to his ear.
“’Lo?” He was too tired even to inject anger into his tone.
“Kirith?” The soft whisper choked off, and a sniffle clearly could be heard.
Kirith frowned, trying to get his mind to function. “Chase?” He sat up against the headboard in an attempt to gain some sort of lucidity.
“I’m sorry I woke you. I just needed someone…” The voice broke off, and the pain in it jarred Kirith’s senses. He and Chase had become very, very close during the time of Kirith’s recovery, and even after the boy had left with Enzo, Kirith had made it a point to speak to him every time he phoned his brother. Chase had been doing so well—in school and in himself—so Kirith was shocked by this sudden breakdown.
“It’s fine, Chase. I told you to phone anytime you needed me, and I meant any time, not just when it is convenient. You sound upset. What’s happened?” He felt his protectiveness rise up. If anyone had hurt the young man…
“I did something so stupid.” The whisper was choked with tears. “I should never have—I just love him, you know. He will hate me now. I have to go away…”
Kirith threw back the covers, shooting a glance at his lover as he did so. Landon slept on, like the dead. He shook his head fondly and then padded naked into the next room before shutting the door softly.
“OK, what is this about, Chase? Who are you…” He stopped, eyes widening with a sudden revelation. The few times Enzo and Chase had visited the island, Kirith had noticed something between them, but had dismissed it as a figment of his imagination. What if it was not?
“Tell me, Chase. I am here for you—you know that—just as you were there for me before. There is nothing you cannot tell me.” His voice stayed gentle.
“I kissed him. How stupid is that? He pushed me away, told me this is just a phase. It’s not a phase, damn it; how could he even think that?” The voice of the younger man slid into fury and then back to despair.
Kirith sat back in his office chair, feeling the breeze of the open doors to the deck sigh over his bare skin, as he fought to understand Chase’s words.
“You kissed Enzo?” Kirith could imagine the scene, and he flinched at the thought of his brother’s reaction. He prayed that his brot
her had been gentle enough and realized how fragile Chase could be.
“I have to go away. Or something. I can’t stay here. He is with that slut, and I can’t watch them.”
“Stacey?” Kirith questioned blankly.
“Ren.” The tone held active dislike, and Kirith could well imagine why. He himself had never been fond of the man, though he could not put an exact finger on the reason. There was just something…off…about him. Kirith had been relieved when their affair had broken off and his brother had gone back to parading through a string of female lovers. So Ren was back. A coldness shivered its way down his spine. Something told him this was in no way a good thing.
Certainly not for Chase.
“Chase, calm down. Just tell me what happened.”
“I…I could not take him being with a man. I did not even know he was bi. I thought there was no hope. And then Ren came and I saw…things.” A cry, quickly muffled, echoed through the phone. “I kissed him, and it was the most beautiful thing that I’ve ever done—and then he pushed me away. He told me that what I feel for him is not real, that he is not a good man to love. I don’t care, Kirith. I love him anyway. I always will…”
Kirith rubbed his eyes. Personally, he could not think of a better person for Enzo than Chase, but he also knew his brother well. Enzo could be destructive to those around him, and Chase didn’t deserve to be hurt.
“Do you want to come here? We would love to see you. Laura talks about you every day, and I know she would be excited to have you close again.”
A shaky sigh from the other end. “Maybe. I would really like to see all of you, but I think, maybe, I just need to get my shit together and choose a college. I need to get out of here. I can’t watch—I just can’t. I love him.” The sadness of the last words wrenched at Kirith’s heart. If only his brother were capable of returning that love. They would be so good together, and Enzo deserved such devotion as Chase was able to give. Just as Chase deserved the protection and care of Enzo’s softer side.
But reality made such a thing unlikely indeed.