Hard Justice: The Asylum Fight Club Book 3

by Bianca Sommerland

  A tall glass of orange juice was set on the bar in front of Jamie.

  “Drink.” Noah took Jamie’s hand and wrapped it around the glass. When the man lifted it to his mouth, took a few gulps, then licked his lips with a shaky, yet genuine smile, Noah let out a soft laugh. “There we go, little cat. Better?”

  “Yeah, thanks.” He gave himself a little shake. “You got a back door I can use?”

  Noah studied Jamie’s face. He’d gone pale, and his eyes, which reminded Noah of mountain fields covered in fresh morning dew, had lost the closed-off glaze that had fit perfectly with the camera-ready smile. The media crush had overwhelmed him but hadn’t come as a surprise. He lived a high-profile life.

  But what is he running from?

  This reaction didn’t equate to slumming it for an escape from the demands of fame and fortune. If there was nothing more, Noah would let the throng outside have him, no matter how fucking gorgeous he looked when he surrendered. His submission was natural to him, so raw Noah had to put up roadblocks to keep himself from grasping on to it until the jagged parts cut into them both. Until he could form the precious core of it into something priceless.

  Protecting him was more important.

  That was if he deserved protection. An easy ‘yes’ if Noah went by what his eyes could see and his reactions to the sub, but he made no moves without all the facts.

  So he went with the obvious question. “Why are they here?”

  Taking another sip of juice, Jamie looked to Curtis and Reed. Curtis’s expression hardened as he read whatever was on the bottom of the front page. Reed chewed on his bottom lip, shaking his head as though he didn’t want to believe what he saw.

  “Why don’t you ask them?”

  “Because I’m asking you.”

  “‘Jamie Kent’s Glam Sham.’” Voice deepening, Jamie parodied a newscaster, fist coming up to mime a microphone. “Bandmate, Trevor Wittes, says Kent’s drug habit killed chances of the all-boy-band, Glam Grenade, reuniting for their twelfth world tour next summer, as Kent’s manager was arrested last week with a stash of heroin and cash belonging to lover Kent at London’s Heathrow airport.”

  The detached tone gave Noah pause. Mention of drugs set his teeth on edge and he clenched his fist against his thigh to avoid turning his focus to Curtis. The man had made amends over years for his part in the death of Noah’s student. As tentative as things were between them, Noah refused to let this widen the gap.

  His student had used once. Once and lost his life. But in prison, Noah had met men who’d used for years. They didn’t have the glow to their skin Jamie had, the alertness, the lithe movements. Not to say the addiction couldn’t have been managed in a way to avoid detection, but every instinct told Noah the accusation was a lie.

  Paired with him being the manager’s lover…?

  That part could be true. And wasn’t something Jamie should be ashamed of. He tapped a finger under Jamie’s chin. “Your bandmate, Trevor, had an issue with you being gay?”

  Jamie’s gaze shied away, his leg moving in a jerky little bounce. “That can happen when you make a drunken pass at someone.”

  Noah’s lips thinned. “So your relationship with your manager came after?”

  Laughter burbled, a little hysterical, from Jamie’s lips. He shook his head. “I wouldn’t screw the guy even if I had the worst case of beer goggles this side of a bottle of Jack.”

  “I see.” Noah cocked his head. “Is anything about the band’s breakup true?”

  “Frank was arrested with my money and some drugs last week.” A wry smile twisted Jamie’s lips. “Our PR guy had mostly hushed up the story. I didn’t know until the day before yesterday what Trevor had said in his interview. It was…” The smile fell away, replaced by troubled regret. “I’m an idiot.”

  “As long as you’re here, you won’t refer to yourself that way again.” Noah framed Jamie’s jaw with his hand. “Understood?”

  “As long as…?” Meeting his eyes, Jamie frowned. “No, I don’t understand.”

  No surprise there, not when he’d been hauled out of the loft without warning, necessary as it had seemed at the time. Noah sat back, drumming his fingers on the gleaming bartop. He was conscious of the other three men in the room watching but dismissed them. Their knowledge of the exchange was irrelevant. If anything, it would offer Jamie an extra level of protection.

  Once we clear up a few things.

  “I can’t let you stay if you’re not a member. You can’t be a member if you don’t know what being a submissive here means.” Noah weighed his words, needing to be absolutely clear. “We don’t have beginner courses, but Wren can help you. If you’re certain being part of the lifestyle is what you really want.” There were other options. Noah held Jamie’s gaze. “If not, I can find you somewhere else to get away from this fucked-up mess. A place where no one will expect you to kneel, follow orders, or tolerate punishments for infractions you can’t possibly avoid.”

  When he got to the word kneel, Jamie’s gaze darkened with interest. Tongue poking at the corner of his mouth, he rubbed his hands on his thighs, avoiding Noah’s gaze. His attention skipped to where Curtis, Reed, and Matt sat, red creeping up his neck.

  “Um… What was the question?”

  The smirk on Curtis’s lips was going to have him sporting two black eyes for the next month. Noah frowned at him, then inhaled slowly. He did not like repeating himself, but this sub needed things kept very direct.

  “How badly do you want to be here?”

  That got Jamie’s attention snapping back to Noah. “With you?” He seemed to think he’d said something wrong and shook his head. “I mean, it’s a nice place.”

  Reed snickered.

  Many will suffer. Just wait.

  Ignoring him, Noah lifted his brows. “You may remain with me for the time being. But I will not be easy on you, little cat.”

  Relief gusted from Jamie, and his shoulders sagged. “Thank fu—dge?”

  “Finish your juice and bring your bag back upstairs.” Noah shook his head. “Let Wren know that you’ll be staying and he’s to instruct you. If I believe you’ve made a mistake because he failed to warn you, you’ll both suffer the consequences.”

  “How’s that fair?” Jamie’s scowl darkened, erasing his earnest attempt at submission. “It’s not like my screwing up is something he can control.”

  How riled up the boy got when his protective instincts were triggered was definitely appealing. “When you signed that contract… No, wait. As I recall, you skimmed over it. Let me clarify one important fact.” Noah leaned close, voice low. “Nowhere does it say things will be fair.”

  Jamie’s gaze skipped from Noah’s face to the stairs, then to the front door and back again, as if he were trying to determine whether it’d be better for Wren if he left. Sighing softly, he returned his attention to Noah. “As long as you’ll give him the benefit of the doubt. When there is any.”

  “Are we negotiating?” Noah chuckled, noting the way Matt shivered and backed up. Even Reed swallowed. Curtis had gone still. Much better. “He’s a good teacher. Smart. Don’t make him regret your friendship.” He cupped Jamie’s cheek. “Ask him about the wisdom of giving me ultimatums. I’ll assume this is the last time you’ll make that mistake.”

  Blinking as if he still stared into the camera flashes, Jamie leaned into his hand. “Did you want me to do something now?”

  “Juice. Bag. Upstairs.” Noah gave Jamie’s cheek a light tap. “Learn to pay attention or you’ll be taking notes on every exchange you have here. And writing them over repeatedly every night.” He was a patient man, but this morning was beginning to push him to his limit. His pleasant smile wouldn’t comfort his little cat, but that couldn’t be helped. “Pleasing me is something to strive for. Keep that in mind.”

  Not breaking Noah’s stare, Jamie reached sideways for his juice, tipped the glass to his mouth and drank deeply until the last drop trailed down the inside of the glas
s. After catching it with the tip of his tongue, he placed the glass on the bar. Slipped off the stool, his proximity bringing his chest within a hair’s breadth of Noah’s.

  Tipping up his chin, he smiled sweetly, a daring glint in his eye. “Thank you...sir.”

  Fuck, this one is going to be trouble.

  If they’d been alone, he’d be tempted to pull Jamie to him. Taste those glistening lips and show him surrender meant more than following orders and accepting punishments. He made a point not to watch Jamie as he picked up his bag and made his way across the bar, disappearing behind the door that led to the upper levels.

  “A coffee with one sugar and two creams if you’re quite done eavesdropping.” Noah tapped his knuckles on the bar twice when Matt continued his silent exchange with Reed. “Obedient I see.”

  Matt flushed when Curtis snapped his fingers, then hurried to fix Noah’s coffee. He spilled half of the first attempt over his light gray shirt. Started fixing another, jaw tense with pain. Reed rushed over to help him, both subs scrambling around like unruly puppies.

  “Jesus Christ.” Sighing, Curtis went around the bar, nudging Reed away to grab a mug. He poured the coffee, added cream and sugar, then stepped around the subs, placing the cup in front of Noah. “They’re housetrained, I promise.”

  “Clearly.” Noah arched a brow as he took a sip. “You seemed interested in my exchange with this new sub. Do you have something to say or are you otherwise occupied?”

  Curtis’s brow furrowed. His lips parted, then pressed together. “I hate it when you do that. There’s no right answer.”

  “There’s the truth.” Noah decided to let Curtis off easy. This time. He set down his mug. “I told you things would change. I can’t be here and have my every action questioned. What happened with Ram could happen with any number of Doms and you damn well know it. My authority will prevent issues like you’ve had in the past.”

  “I get that, but you’re…” Curtis raked his fingers through his hair. “Doing that thing.”

  Forearms rested on the bar, Noah gave Curtis his most relaxed smile. Not one that would provide the answers he was looking for, but he was a goddamn Dom. If he wanted to be treated like one, he’d seek reassurance elsewhere. Because Noah had none to offer.

  Not right now.

  “One of the men under my protection could die if he steps outside of the club. Another who stumbled into my path just lost everything. You’re worried Lawson’s new puppy might trip over his own feet and irritate me.” Noah’s tone hardened. “Work on your priorities. Last night went well for both Reed and Matt, as far as I know. That I haven’t heard otherwise is encouraging.” He finished his coffee in two burning gulps, then handed the mug back to Curtis. “Keep it that way.”

  With a sharp nod, Curtis backed away, going to Reed and Matt. Pulling Matt’s shirt up, he clucked his tongue as he took in the burn.

  Satisfied that Curtis’s focus was where it belonged, Noah crossed the bar, breathing a little easier once the door cutting it from the stairs shut behind him. The space here was closed in. There was no sound. No one around to watch for sudden movements. He made his way up the stairs, stopping once he reached the landing outside his loft. The solid wood floors, the bare walls, had appealed to him last night when he’d finally left the bar after closing. Lawson must have taken Matt to the dungeon, because he hadn’t seen either of them. Curtis had been in the bar, keeping Reed company as he cleaned. There’d been no reason for Noah to stay, and he was aware his presence put everyone on edge.

  But once he’d gotten here, he’d wanted to stay. To stretch out on the hard floor, which would be more comfortable than the thin, lumpy mattress he’d slept on for almost two years. Isolated enough that he wouldn’t wake to the sound of people moving around freely when they shouldn’t be. Everyone should be locked away. Like he was.

  The only thing that kept him moving, that got him into the loft, was the idea of Jared seeing him sleeping on the floor. Revealing that kind of weakness, even to him, was unacceptable. The sofa would do. It was firm. Wide enough to accommodate him. Only Wren and Jamie were there. He controlled them. There was no threat.

  He entered the loft, going to the kitchen, which Wren had already cleaned. They’d be discussing that shortly. Noah was more than capable of picking up after himself. The man needed time to heal from the birching. Had he forgotten Jared’s instructions? He’d been closed off after his punishment. More so than usual.

  Wren wasn’t a sub to draw attention to himself with misbehavior. He strived to please, which was why Noah had collared him in prison. Why he’d put him on speech restrictions. Doing so kept him alive. But out here...there were other dangers. Like his addiction. That kind of money could lead Wren to finding other needs to fulfill. His intelligence, mixed with his aptitude for games of chance, had made him a very wealthy young man once. But he’d gambled with the law and that was his greatest loss. His knowledge of the criminals he’d gotten too close to almost got him a good deal, but at the last minute it had fallen through. Leaving Wren thrown into gen pop without any way to defend himself, and too many enemies.

  Noah wasn’t a fool, he knew he couldn’t replace fucking therapy and Addicts Anonymous, but Wren responded well to submission and boundaries. Going to those meetings would be a death sentence at this point, so Noah gave the man the only thing that could keep him off the radar. And keep him from making the same mistakes.

  Wren had picked the charity the money he’d won last night had gone to, in any case. That had to count for something.

  Second-guessing his actions was pointless, so Noah didn’t bother. Including when it came to Jamie. The man had seen how serious Noah was about obedience. To the rules of the club and the ones he set for those under his control. He’d had every opportunity to leave.

  But he chose to stay.

  The soft sound of classical music coming from Wren’s room told him the man was relaxing. Probably reading one of the books Noah had distractedly told him he could borrow without needing to ask. There were more than enough. When Noah had asked Lawson to put up some bookshelves, his man hadn’t taken the request lightly.

  Not something Noah could take in now. There was too much. His entire world was too random and new. He looked to the sofa, half a mind to return to it for a few hours. Lay there and pretend his routine was the same. That a buzzer would sound when it was time for lunch.

  Focus.

  He gave himself a firm nod. Jamie wasn’t with Wren. He looked to the brushed steel door that led to his own room. A place he’d only glanced in for a moment to see Jamie curled up in the center of the big mattress, sleeping peacefully.

  At least someone could enjoy the bed. It was a gorgeous piece he’d take the opportunity to truly admire one day, but for now, he kept his focus narrowed to the essentials. Such as Jamie, who’d decided not to spend very much time with Wren. Likely so none of the blame could be put on him when he slipped up.

  Clever. Noah wouldn’t be surprised if Jamie had spoken to Wren long enough to say he’d obeyed, but short enough to find the loophole. As he’d done last night using hand signals while on speech restrictions, whispering only to Wren, who’d written everything down.

  Tricky little cat.

  Commands would have to be very specific. Noah found himself looking forward to the small games Jamie would unintentionally play with him. He’d put his piece on the board and was moving it with some skill, without knowing the rules. Or the game. Or what either of them were playing for.

  Noah wasn’t quite certain himself, but he rolled the dice nonetheless and opened the door to his room.

  The newspaper had been brought up at some point and Jamie had it folded in front of him. The tip of his finger was gray from having been run over the printed words. Probably again and again as it sank in that the people he should have been able to trust had torn his world apart. Noah couldn’t imagine what Jamie’s life had been. If his name was making headlines, he’d been very successful. He wa
s young, so his cumulative years had been dedicated to this career.

  He’d mentioned coming on to his friend while he was drunk. His friend hadn’t known much about him if this was his reaction. Jamie had been surrounded by people he couldn’t be open with. In a world that demanded one thing from him. A life where that fake smile he’d given the press was the only one on his lips.

  No matter what, Noah would give him somewhere to get away from that. Time to explore his options. He couldn’t give him much more.

  But he couldn’t resist taking something for himself.

  He moved to the bed and took the newspaper away. Set it aside, his gaze drinking in every inch of the man spread out on his bed, looking so fucking lost.

  “Forget what you had, at least for the moment. I want you to consider something while you’re here. Whenever you’re here.” Noah climbed onto the bed, drawing Jamie up to his knees and curving a hand around his throat. A warning. A promise. An offer. “You come to my bed and you’re mine. Here. Now. This time, I will let you go if you’re not ready.” He brushed his lips over the other man’s, tightening his grip. “But only this once.”

  Chapter Five

  Pressure at Jamie's throat anchored him as he swallowed just to feel Noah’s hand there. Lips slanted to force his mouth open. Heat invaded. A surge of pre-come slicked his already painfully hard shaft when Noah gripped the back of his skull, tilting his head to tongue fuck him with smooth insistence. The sensual plumpness of Noah’s lips should’ve been a soft landing, but everything about the man surrounded him like a fucking steel cage whose bars he instinctively clung to. Jamie moaned, breathing deep. All Noah had to do was look at him and the world somehow made sense again.

  Dark curls brushed his cheeks as Noah smiled into their kiss. “Answer the question, little cat.”

  “Hnh.” Jamie tried to reclaim lips that lingered close.

  Noah’s grip on his throat tightened a fraction, his thumb brushing along Jamie’s jaw as he whispered, “You take what I give.”