Hard Justice: The Asylum Fight Club Book 3

by Bianca Sommerland

The edge of Noah’s lips quirked. “Does that include the entire album?”

  Jamie winced, squinting one eye. “Maybe?”

  “Mhmm.” Noah framed Jamie’s jaw with one hand, holding his gaze. “Agreed. But you will answer my question. And I reserve the right to punish you any time the song plays and I’m in the mood.” His gaze took on a wicked glint. “I imagine you won’t be the only one being very careful with their song selection.”

  Nodding, emphatic, Jamie sincerely hoped that nobody he pissed off at The Asylum knew about this little rule. He licked his lips and thought back, trying to remember Noah’s question, came up with the answer and blushed. “I asked my stylist to make me look like I was someone fucking else.”

  “That’s one. Have you forgotten all the rules or are you working on your next album already?” Noah clucked his tongue. “I miss my boy. Every part of him. You’ll be changing it back, understood?”

  “Yes, sir.” Jamie nodded, a trill walking up his spine at the feeling of Noah’s control wrapping around him, glove-tight. “It was just a quote, I didn’t mean it as an actual swear. Just a retro swear.”

  “And it will only be a spanking. Now get up. Let me look at you.” Noah held out his hand.

  He remembered how long he’d looked at Noah’s last marks on his flesh until they’d faded. Until he was afraid Noah would disappear too. From his memory. That’s when he’d started composing like his brain was on fire.

  Hand in Noah’s, he stood, gaze lifted to gray eyes. And smiled. “I feel like I can breathe.”

  Tugging him close, Noah wrapped his arms around him and pressed his lips to his hair. “You’ve lost weight. My mother is going to kill me.” He chuckled, easing back, one arm still around Jamie as he tipped his chin up with a finger. “Are you ready to come home?”

  Images, scents, sounds of The Asylum rose up to greet him, longing tugging at his middle. “Very much, sir.”

  He still had relationships to heal, people to talk to and smooth things over with. The thing about family, he’d found, was that you could make mistakes and be forgiven. Even be missed and wanted. Because they loved you for who you were and saw all of the things they knew you could be.

  “Good. Because you’re going to be making some calls once we get there.” Noah took his hand and laced their fingers together, holding his gaze. “I want your clothes in my closet. In my dresser. Hell, I’ll make more space if you need it. I want to look around the loft and see you. Pictures of places you’ve been. Things you love. That word, home, will mean something. To us both.”

  Jamie stood up on his toes, begging for a kiss and whispered against Noah’s lips. “Wherever you are. That’s home. That’s all I need. But...dude I have a ton of crap. You might want to reconsider.”

  “That’s two. Of all things ‘dude’, really?” Noah sighed and put his finger through the loop on Jamie’s collar. Gave it a light tug. “If there are things you don’t want, donate them. I don’t believe my orders were unclear, do you?”

  Needing to lean into Noah’s power, Jamie did the opposite and tilted back, just to feel the tug at his throat. Played with fire in his gaze. “No, sir. Perfectly clear. On all counts. ‘Dude’ is a four-letter word—My second favorite, but I’ll donate it along with my stuff. As long as I can keep my first favorite…” He sighed Noah’s name, putting all of the sexy from the song into his throat. “No-ah.”

  “You’re looking for trouble, little cat.” Noah grinned and tapped the tip of his nose. “I’d warn you to be careful, but I’m enjoying myself. And so long as you don’t push too far, you may be able to sit again, sometime in the near future.”

  Jamie groaned, laughing, then met Noah’s gaze and sobered, though he let the joy linger. “You’d be shocked if you knew the things I’ve pictured you doing to me. But…” He gazed at Noah’s mouth, its perfect lines, all hard and soft in the right mix. “As long as I give you what you want… What you need? I’ll feel good about this boy being wherever you want him to be.”

  “With me, Jamie. That’s what I want. You right here.”

  Arms snugged around Noah’s waist, Jamie claimed what was given. “Then that’s where I’ll be.”

  Noah laced their fingers together, tugging him past the choir stairs, where he swept up Jamie’s pencil and pad, giving it a cursory look and a nod before handing it to Jamie. They collected his bag from the rectory. The mice scattered when they walked through the kitchen. Noah looked a little less impressed with that, but he didn’t comment.

  As they neared the front door, Jamie dug in his heels. “Wait!”

  Concern shadowed Noah’s eyes. “Are you forgetting something? Do you want me to make sure the back door’s locked?” He looked around and shook his head. “Not much can be done about the broken windows today, but I can help you with that tomorrow. Make sure everything’s secure.”

  Jamie tilted his head, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “That’s… That’d be really nice. But—” He nodded to the front door. “You really don’t want to go out there right now and let them see you with me. With this collar and…” He shook his head. “It’d just open the whole can of worms again. I can go out the front. Or back.”

  “You’re adorable.” Noah leaned close to him, his lips brushing Jamie’s ear. “Are you afraid to show them who you belong to?”

  Chin coming up, Jamie sucked in a breath. This was for real. Noah was for real. He’d known it, but now? He got it. “No, sir. Not a bit.”

  “Good.” Noah tightened his grip on Jamie’s hand and kept walking. Jaw ticking at the flash, he muttered under his breath. “I really hate these fuckers.”

  Jamie threw on his glam smile and muttered back between his teeth, “Join the fucking club.”

  He knew it’d cost him, but sometimes a sub had to show solidarity with his man.

  “Tempted to let that one slide.” Noah grinned as he opened the passenger side door. “I won’t, but I am tempted.”

  Flashing him a pout he couldn’t hold, but the cameras caught, Jamie burst into laughter. “Thank God. I was wondering how far I might have to go if you felt too guilty.”

  Arm braced on the hood of the car, Noah bent down, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “Why do you think Doms hold grudges for so long? ‘Forgiven’ means it’s over. No guilt. You could’ve really dragged that out and gotten away with so much.” He winked. “Too bad there won’t be a next time.”

  Not forgiving Noah, holding a grudge, was a concept he couldn’t grasp. Not even to joke about. Reaching up, he caressed Noah’s face. “Please buckle your boy in, sir. I want to go home.”

  Tugging at the belt, Noah pulled it across Jamie’s chest. Kissed his cheek. “Topping from the bottom. You’re on a roll.”

  A kick of danger fluttering low. Jamie bit his bottom lip, but he wasn’t sorry. Not yet. “Yes, sir.”

  God, he loved how his Dom always noticed him. Never failed pay attention.

  “Such a good boy.” The playfulness in Noah’s tone faded away. He brushed his hand over Jamie’s hair. Backed away and pushed the car door shut before going around to the driver’s side. He ignored the questions shouted at him, got behind the wheel, and started the car. “They will move when I start driving, right?”

  “Yeah.” Rolling his head to the side, Jamie looked out the window at the flashes and grinned. Let the fuckers make what they would. “They’re like a school of fish. Just act like a shark and drive right through them.”

  Noah might as well get used to it, because now they were onto his scent, they wouldn’t give up easily. They’d dig up everything from his past, write ridiculous things about Jamie and him. Looking at the way he maneuvered through the small group, though, his gaze straight ahead, hands steady on the wheel, Jamie realized he didn’t need to worry. Noah had this.

  Anniston Falls rolled by outside his window, and he placed his hand on Noah’s thigh. Sinking back into the seat, he enjoyed the feeling of Noah’s nearness. His control. There wasn’t anything to worry about
, nothing to think about right now but the man next to him.

  The familiar stretch of road north brought them to the edge of the sane part of the City as they bumped over the railroad tracks. Jamie drank in the gray steel security fence, his gaze flicking to the side-view mirror automatically as he caught the cars following close behind. The gate opened at Noah’s approach, and he drove inside as the fence closed behind.

  Jamie let go of the oh shit strap he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, his shoulders relaxing as he took in The Asylum’s sturdy brick walls and Doc’s hearse out front. Nothing had changed. Everything had changed.

  Noah’s hand moved over his and squeezed. “All right?”

  A smile broke across his face when he met Noah’s gaze. “Never better.”

  He was back where he belonged.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  If Noah had to describe hell, it would be L.A. Too hot. Too many people. So much glitter he was positive it was permanently imprinted in his vision. He’d longed for thick trees that stood tall and strong through all four seasons. For city streets without neon lights. For smiles that might have crooked teeth and stains, but were genuine and warm, not waiting to be captured for a moment of exposure.

  A world away from everything he knew and loved. But after the insanely long drive and only enough sleep to keep himself from being a danger on the road, he faced it. Day in and day out, his search had brought him closer to the outskirts of Jamie’s existence, but never close enough. The plan had been to find Jamie and…

  That was it. End of plan. Letting his heart lead the way might have been a noble gesture but turned out his heart was stupid for the boy and not very practical. Agents and directors Jamie had worked with wouldn’t even take his calls. His new number obviously wasn’t listed. Finally, a sweet little aspiring actress, who worked at the diner Noah went to every day, was kind enough to give him a general idea of where Jamie lived.

  The police hadn’t taken kindly to him following another car past the gate blocking the road. Calling his mother to wire money bail him out of jail had been embarrassing. After paying the hefty fine the judge nailed him with the next morning and retreating to the motel on the edge of town to lick his wounded pride, she’d set him back on track.

  “You’ll find him. But give yourself a minute. Are you okay?”

  Staring out at the horizon, Noah knew exactly why she’d asked that question. Being locked in a cell could’ve set him back, but he’d only been annoyed at the delay. He nodded, then laughed. “I spent a night with two drunk strippers and a couple caught having sex in a neighbor’s backyard. Not exactly hard time.”

  She snickered at that, her tone light. “Good. I’d say try not to get arrested again, but that may be difficult. Jamie’s going to be hard to get access to. Do what you have to do.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Noah grinned. Fuck, his mom was an incredible woman. He was damn lucky to have her. “How are the boys?”

  “Occupied. I’m fostering a new litter of kittens and their mother. The kittens are almost ready to find homes for. The mother probably won’t be adopted out, so I’m thinking of keeping her.” His mother’s tone was wistful, as if she was thinking of all the cats and dogs she’d had over the years. She used to keep more of them, many older, who lived out their lives with her in comfort and love. She’d had to cut back when she’d gotten sick again. Having a pet who’d be around for longer would be good for her, but she was probably worried about what would happen if the cancer struck and stole her ability to give the cat the time and attention it needed.

  “You should. And you know I’ll take care of her if you can’t, right?”

  “Thank you, Noah. I do know that. For a while I couldn’t…” She trailed off. Her tone was soft and warm when she continued. “It’s so good to have you out of that damn place. When you come back, I’ll introduce you to her. I’ve decided to name her Glam.”

  His brow rose. “I take it she’s a Persian?”

  “Just like the one we had when you were little. Reminds me even more of Jamie though. So affectionate and loving, but careful. Her trust has been betrayed too many times.” A purr followed her words, as though the cat had moved close to the phone. She let out a soft laugh. “But she’s ready to believe in it again. Go give your boy a reason to believe in it too.”

  The trip ended up being a wasted effort when Doc called to let him know Jamie had returned to Anniston Falls on his own. Hiring a service to have Curtis’s car brought back, Noah had booked a red-eye flight. Didn’t bother to sleep or change once he had his boy’s location. A Spring freeze had tightened its grip after some mild weather, but he was so grateful for the cold he didn’t want his coat to keep it from him, not when he only had a short drive and he had every intention of getting his boy home quickly. From the sounds of it, he’d been staying at the cathedral he’d bought, which was in complete disrepair, and Noah wouldn’t allow his little cat to live in that condition for another minute.

  If Jamie had refused to forgive him, he would’ve suggested he stay with Tracey. Or hell, even Jacks—not ideal, but at least he wouldn’t break his neck when his bed fell through the floor.

  He’d not only forgiven Noah, he’d accepted his collar. Was back in his bed, in his arms, that very night. After a shower and a sound spanking, he’d cuddled up to Noah, naked except for the solid circlet of platinum around his neck. He’d been exhausted but aroused. Needed more than he could take, desperate to be touched and reminded, over and over that this was real.

  The taste of him was still on Noah’s tongue the next morning, his cries as Noah had used his mouth to make his boy come fast and hard still echoing in the back of his mind like his favorite song. Preferable to the one on Jamie’s album of a sub taunting their Dom during a spanking with ‘That all you’ve got?’

  Which, from the sounds of it, was playing in the bar right now. He shook his head as he descended the steps, hoping it wasn’t Reed or Matt, looking for attention. If they got Lawson before his first cup of coffee, they would not enjoy the results. Curtis seemed in a good mood lately, which might be even worse. He’d get creative, which meant bad things for naughty subs.

  At least he knew it wasn’t Jamie. Despite Noah’s protest—as his partner, not as his Dom—after two days of forced rest, he’d gotten up early to meet with a contractor Matt had referred him to. He was so proud of this project, so determined to be involved in every part of the process, Noah didn’t have the heart to hold him back in any way.

  Besides, this gave him the opportunity to prepare one of many surprises he had planned. Jamie’s reluctance to prioritize moving any of his things here had grated at first, but he had a feeling it was because none of those things meant anything to him. To make the loft seem more like his space as well, he’d have to find things for Jamie to love. Things that were very...him.

  The painting he’d given Jamie for Christmas now hung on the wall over the mantle. The sketches he’d done of his boy would be framed later today and placed around the bedroom, for his and Jamie’s eyes alone. His mother was coming over with keepsakes and knick-knacks and a few other things she thought Jamie would love. Along with a special gift that would be impossible to miss and would leave the biggest impact.

  He stepped into the bar, brow raised as he saw Garet, cleaning while coffee brewed, dancing in place and singing along to Jamie’s song, Power Lines.

  “Good morning.” Garet’s cheerful tone had an edge of uncertainty, which seemed out of place. He’d gotten more comfortable with Noah over the past few months. He had to know he didn’t have to worry about Noah taking exception to him listening to any music he wanted to?

  Sliding onto a stool, Noah thanked the teen when he set a cup of coffee with the cream and sugar dishes in front of him. After stirring a bit of both in, he took a sip, observing the boy, who ducked his head, cheeks flushed, but didn’t turn off the music.

  “You don’t mind, do you?” Garet glanced toward the doors to the ring, then back at Noah
. “It’s one of my favorites.”

  Noah’s lips slanted as he caught on. He shook his head, rested his elbow on the bar, angled toward that same door. “Not. At. All.”

  They opened to reveal Ezran, black hair falling sharply over one brown eye, hair damp from a recent shower. Cheeks flushed from his morning workout, which had gotten even more intense of late, the teen was dressed in black jeans and a black muscle shirt, which showed off the wiry build of his arms. He smiled, nodding to Noah, but then his pace slowed.

  Eyes narrowed, his gaze snapped to Garet. “Now you’re trying to piss me off.”

  Wiping off the counter around the coffee pot, Garet’s tone was deceptively nonchalant. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Like hell you don’t.” Ezran strode behind the bar, reaching for the speaker Garet had connected to his phone. He stilled when Garet blocked him. Drew in a sharp inhale. “Turn it off.”

  Garet held his gaze. “Make me.”

  The tension in the room had Noah uncertain whether he should leave and give the boys some privacy or stay and make sure they didn’t kill one another. But it was broken too fast for him to have to make a choice.

  With a frustrated growl, Ezran backed away. “Whatever, do what you want. I’m out of here.”

  Not moving until Ezran had grabbed his jacket, disappearing out the front door, Garet closed his eyes and sighed. “Thought so.”

  And these two were going off to university together? Noah had a bad feeling that wouldn’t end well. He really hoped he was wrong, because he could tell Garet cared about Ezran. But he was a sweet kid, and, if he wasn’t careful, he was going to get hurt.

  “You don’t have to say it.” Garet spoke up, turning the music off and pulling Noah from his thoughts. “He hates me. He only hangs out with me from lack of options.”

  That Ezran didn’t have many friends wasn’t lost on Noah, but the boy liked his own company enough that he wouldn’t hang out with Garet simply because he was lonely. The two had a lot in common and usually got along fine.