by E M Lindsey
Rhys raised a brow. “You know I can’t tell you that, Ry.”
Ryan rolled his eyes. “I’m going to take that as a yes.”
“He informed me that he had been investigated for having a sexual relationship with a student. The evidence presented to him were photographs of him at a club near campus that students frequent. The photos show him in a suggestive, compromising position with an undergrad. He is able to refute these claims by proving that the woman in question was, in fact, his cousin and he was simply allowing her to use him to fend off an unwanted advance.”
Ryan was damn sure this was Trevor, Noah’s co-worker and friend who had been let go just a short while before Barnes came after him. It had shaken Noah up long before Adrian’s big reveal. This, however, was new information and it must have shown on his face because Rhys leaned toward him.
“I’m going to assume by that dumb look on your face, our source of potential conflict wasn’t aware of that turn of events.”
“No,” Ryan said, “because your conflict knows that your potential client was fired for that specific incident. So what gives?”
Rhys hesitated, looking almost nervous. “I don’t usually take cases like this, Ry. They’re complicated and they often go public, which ends up destroying any semblance of privacy my clients could ever hope to have.”
“Why did he get fired, Rhys,” Ryan said, a little more forcefully now, because he had a feeling he knew at least some of the details. “If he had proof he wasn’t sleeping with a student, why did he agree to the termination?”
“Blackmail,” Rhys said after a long pause.
Ryan sat back in his seat, covered his face with one hand, and breathed out, “Fuck,” in a slow hiss.
“And I’m going to take that as proof that this isn’t a sole case of blackmail currently going on. You told me that Noah as dealing with some shit. Is he being blackmailed?”
Ryan dragged his hand away. “Yes, but you can’t fucking say anything, okay? Because this guy has the potential to ruin Noah’s future and I promised him I wouldn’t get involved until he asked me.”
Rhys nodded. “You know I wouldn’t do that.”
Ryan did know that, but he also couldn’t help his protective instincts. “So, what do you need from me?”
Rhys pursed his lips, his brow furrowed in thought. “I don’t know. The thing is, the information the person blackmailing my potential client has will have to be made public if he pursues a case against him. He was coerced by this blackmailer into resigning his post on the grounds that he was fraternizing with a student, but in order to reveal the truth, he has to reveal the information, and he’s terrified.” After a beat, Rhys asked, “Do you know who this person is?”
Ryan stared at him a long moment, then nodded. “Yeah, I do. I’ve even met the piece of shit and I regret not laying his ass out the night of Noah’s holiday party. And I’m one in a long line of people who want to see this guy suffer.”
Rhys’ temple twitched with the tension in his jaw, then he shook his head. “Is Noah going to come forward against this guy?”
Ryan rubbed his hand down his face again and let out a frustrated groan. “I don’t know. I’ve been working with Wes to see if we can get something on this guy, but Noah’s not really in the mood to cooperate. Yet, anyway. I’m working on him.”
“I really don’t want my potential client to come out with this. Not when it would mean a certain level of scrutiny he probably can’t handle.”
Ryan frowned. He had met Trevor one or two times and it was difficult to imagine what Charlie had on him. Trevor was slight in his build, a raspy, high-pitched voice, enthusiastic personality, and very confident. He’d even hit on Ryan once or twice in a playful way, and he’d never seemed particularly ashamed of anything. He was attractive, too, and Ryan had halfway considered having a romp with the guy but had stopped himself since he was Noah’s co-worker.
It gutted him to think that Barnes was in the middle of ruining more people’s lives, and he had to wonder how many people who had been fired over this had been falsely blackmailed into doing it. The fucker needed to go down.
“Let me keep working on this end,” Ryan told him. “I don’t know how to go about in getting Trev—er, I mean, your client’s job back, but we may be able to take the guy down so there won’t be a threat of information revealed.”
Rhys visibly relaxed. “Do you really think you can find something?”
Ryan shrugged. “I can’t be certain just yet, but Wes isn’t letting this go. I told him not to share any of the shady shit with me, but let’s just say vigilante justice doesn’t scare them.”
“I don’t know if that’s going to help my guy,” Rhys said, sounding a little defeated.
Ryan bit his lip. “Can I tell Noah?”
“That’s probably not a good idea. Not yet, anyway. Let me see how he wants to proceed first. I’m not sure I can take his case considering his close ties with Noah, but I’m going to do my best at getting him back to work.”
Ryan nodded. “If anyone can, it’ll be you.”
Rhys looked mildly surprised. “That almost sounded like a compliment.”
With a shrug, Ryan stood up and walked to the door. “Maybe it was, maybe it was a dig at you being a shady as shit lawyer. Who knows. Now get the fuck out of my office. I have things to do and I need to order lunch.”
Rhys rolled his eyes, but he stuck out his hand to shake Ryan’s, and last minute pulled him into a hug. When they parted, he stepped out the door and nearly collided with McCaig who was watching them with his creepy smile.
“And who’s this, then?” he asked.
Rhys gave Ryan and incredulous look and Ryan let out a tiny sigh. “This is my brother. He just came by to talk about family matters.”
McCaig gave Rhys a slow up and down look, and Ryan wanted to warn him off, to make it clear Rhys was straight and even if he wasn’t, wouldn’t appreciate some creepy, pale man undressing him with his eyes.
Rhys took it all in stride, though, and offered his most charming smile before turning back to Ryan. “See you soon?”
Ryan nodded, then watched him set off. When he realized McCaig was lingering, he turned to him. “Is there anything you needed?”
“Just wondering if you wanted to grab a drink after work? I dinnae ken a lot of people around here and I could use a pint.”
Ryan had to suppress a shiver at the guy’s cold, dead eyes staring at him. “I can’t. I have a class this evening.”
McCaig’s nearly-white brows lifted toward his hairline. “A class? What sort? Like pottery?”
“Like working out,” Ryan said, his voice clipped. “I sit all day, need something to do to keep me fit.” And it’s a good way to remind creeps like you that I’m trained to kick your ass if I need to, he added silently.
McCaig merely smiled wider, then shrugged. “Well, maybe some other time.”
“Sure,” Ryan said, then went back into his office and shut the door. It would definitely be a delivery sort of day. The last thing he wanted was to run into that weirdo again. He had a feeling agreeing to a pint with that dude would end up with him trapped in some hole in an abandoned house somewhere rubbing lotion onto his skin.
***
Adrian, Wes, and Anna were long-gone by the time Ryan arrived at Baum’s. Molly, the night-time trainer, was behind the desk furiously clicking at something on the computer screen, and she gave him a passing nod as he strolled by and headed for the locker room.
He was a little put out that there was no one to go a round or two with him, but he figured he could beat his confusion and rage out on a bag enough that when he finally spoke to Noah, he wouldn’t have everything burning inside. It was still a lot to wrap his head around, even if most of it was completely expected. There was no shock at all when Rhys had told him about Barnes’ other victim, but he felt impotent and he hated that more than anything.
Wrapping his hands, Ryan strolled right to the boxing room, pushed
open the door, then froze. Across the room was a familiar set of broad shoulders tense as arms beat into the bag with a fury Ryan felt on a visceral level. When his footstep echoed in the room, Cole quit beating on the bag and turned his head slightly.
“That bag owe you money or something?” Ryan quipped.
There was the faintest twitch of Cole’s lips as he turned and swiped the back of his hand over his brow. The sheen of sweat caught the light, giving the man an almost ethereal glow. His eyelids twitched, and for half a second Ryan thought he was going to open them before he remembered.
“Bad day,” Cole grunted. He walked toward the wall with one hand out, shuffling measured steps. It took him a moment, but he eventually located his towel and water bottle which was propped on the ledge, and he took a long draught of the cool drink before swiping the towel along the back of his neck. “I can get out of your way.”
“You don’t have to rush off,” Ryan blurted, not sure what he was playing at entirely, but he found himself yet again craving the man’s company. “You want to go a round?”
“You’re a lawyer,” Cole said.
Ryan snorted a laugh. “Yeah? So?”
“So,” Cole drawled, easing his towel back on the ledge. He turned to face Ryan properly and adjusted the wrap on his left wrist. “I don’t do white-collar boxing. Odds aren’t fair.”
“True,” Ryan said, swinging his arms across his body, then open to a T to stretch. “I mean, you’ve been working hard, and I would hate to see you lose confidence after I kick your ass.”
Cole’s mouth spread into a proper smile and he shook his head. “Brave man.”
“Maybe.”
“Or stupid,” Cole added.
Ryan chuckled. “That’s also a very real possibility. Or maybe I’m an okay amateur boxer who really needs to blow off some steam.”
“You have gloves?” Cole asked, and Ryan felt a little, invisible punch of victory.
“Yep, right here in my hand.” Ryan gave them a pat, making sure the noise of the cover was loud enough for Cole to pick up. He reached the ring faster than Cole and slid under the ropes. Pushing back to the far corner, he hooked his arms over the taut barrier and used it to help stretch a little more as Cole made his way over.
Ryan wondered if he would have been okay fighting a blind man before he arrived at Baum’s. The place had helped him deal with a lot of his internal prejudices and assumptions about disability. He remembered the first time he’d fucked Wes had been in the guy’s manual chair after he took a bad hit during a training session. He’d said something insensitive like, “I wasn’t sure your dick still worked,” and Wes made him pay for it. Over. And over. And over, before he let Ryan come. He never made the mistake of doubting someone else again.
Still, he couldn’t help a little fear that he had too much of an advantage as Cole climbed into the ring. The guy didn’t just have compromised vision—he was totally blind. He didn’t know exactly how, but the sunken eyelids and scars made it obvious he didn’t have eyes beneath his lids. But the thought was immediately pushed aside when Ryan remembered Cole had been training with Adrian. It was evident in the way he reached out to verify how far away the ropes were, and the way he boxed in bare feet so he could feel every movement beneath his soles.
Ryan knew this wasn’t going to be a fair fight, and none of it in his favor. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to regret a single word that ended with him right there, getting ready to touch gloves with a man he wanted to do more than touch gloves with.
“You good?” Cole asked as their fists met.
Ryan breathed out through his mouthguard and nodded, then remembered. “More than. Let’s do this.”
It was over in minutes. Which, of course, felt like hours with the way Cole toyed with him. But Ryan took exactly two jabs to his left temple before the room spun and he tapped out. He didn’t want to be totally useless, and though he was still wound up, being around Cole alone had calmed him down. The urge to get sweaty, to beat the shit out of something until he couldn’t lift his arms anymore, had largely disappeared.
“Alright, mate?” Cole asked, removing his glove and reaching for Ryan’s shoulder. When skin met skin, Ryan shivered. “You tapped out early. Was it too hard?”
“No,” Ryan said, blinking to make sure his world remained straight and steady. “No, it was just right. I thought I needed more than that, but I feel better, oddly.”
Cole’s mouth twitched and he lowered his and, turning to head for the ropes. “You know, that’s me as well. I’ve been beating on these bags for the better part of the evening and it wasn’t until I faced off with you that I felt centered.”
“One of those days?”
Cole chuckled as he slid to the floor and leaned back against the ring. “Something like that. Bad news all around and it feels like everything’s out of my hands.”
“God, I know that feeling. More than I care to.” Ryan swiped at a faint sheen of sweat at his hairline, then blurted out without really thinking, “Do you want to grab something to eat?”
Cole looked startled. “Oh. I’m…well.”
“It’s fine,” Ryan said in a rush. After his day, he wasn’t entirely sure he could take a full-on rejection. “It was just a thought.”
“I actually would love to, but I need to get Kevin home and fed and out of the harness. It’s been a longer day for him and I’m not sure we’ll even make it home in one piece after this. I try not to work him this long.”
Ryan looked down at the sleepy dog. “What if I drove you? That way Kevin can go on break now, and we can even pick up something on the way, or we can cook at yours. Not that I’m inviting myself to your house or anything, I just…”
Cole stayed Ryan’s flow of words with a gorgeous smile. “Actually, I wouldn’t mind cooking, only I haven’t got much.” He made a clicking nose and Kevin was instantly on his feet, pausing at Cole’s side. Instead of grabbing the harness, Cole bent over grabbed the dog’s leash, then hefted his bag over his shoulder. Kevin gave a shake of his fur, then yawned with a high-pitched whine and licked at Cole’s hand. “I’ve been so sodding overrun with stuff lately I hadn’t found the time,” Cole said.
Ryan laughed. “No worries, we can stop for supplies on the way. Come on, I’m parked right up the street. Can I…how do I…?”
“I’ll just take your shoulder. But…d’you want to clean up first? I was going to shower at home, but I don’t mind waiting if you want to change.”
“Nah,” Ryan said, stepping into Cole’s outstretched hand. He tried to suppress a shudder of want as Cole’s hand drifted from his upper arm to his shoulder, then gripped him tight. “I didn’t really work up much of a sweat. Unless you’re telling me I smell.”
It was the damn wrong thing to say because Cole decided to assess the question by leaning in and taking a whiff of Ryan just at the crook of his neck where it met his shoulder. His sweats immediately tented, and he did everything he could to will the damn erection away.
“You smell quite nice, actually. Expensive. I’m guessing designer cologne?”
Ryan laughed and he started forward toward the doors. “I think so. I don’t actually know what it is. My brother shops for me every year on my birthday. I have a wide variety and I just spritz on whatever’s closest to my hand.”
“A man of real taste,” Cole snarked, and where Ryan would have been self-conscious, he found suddenly that he didn’t mind.
They got Kevin situated in the back seat, then Ryan pulled out onto the street and drove a few blocks over to the supermarket he knew would not only be open, but nearly empty. He pulled into a spot closest to the doors, then grabbed his key fob out of the little tray.
“Ready?”
Cole nodded and opened his door, but instead of going into the back for Kevin, he dug into his gym bag and pulled out a folded white cane. Ryan was startled but took his cue and switched the car back on.
“I’ll leave it running for Kevin so he won’t get cold,” h
e explained as he shut his door, then locked it.
Cole laughed as Ryan came around to his side. “He’s a dog, you know. He’s got a built-in blanket all over his body. And it’s hardly cold here.”
Ryan pulled a face as he shifted up close to Cole could take his shoulder again. “Yes, but this way I’ll know he’s comfortable and I won’t worry.”
Cole shook his head but didn’t argue as he straightened his cane out and swung it in front of him in a shallow arc. Ryan had never done anything like this before, and he was worried he was going to fuck it up completely, but Cole seemed entirely at ease. They walked in and Ryan winced at the flood of fluorescent lights, squinting his eyes as he looked around for a hand basket.
“Any idea what you’re in the mood for?” Ryan asked as he hung the basket in the crook of his free elbow.
“Well,” Cole said, following his lead, “I’ve been taking some cooking lessons during my occupational therapy, relearning the kitchen and everything. Only, I was never really good at it before so right now I can do a baked chicken, a jacket potato, and a scrambled egg.”
Ryan laughed and headed right down the dry pasta aisle. “How about spaghetti? When Noah and I were at university, we talked our way into a culinary course because we thought it would save us money if we learned how to cook instead of eating at the student union for every meal. He hated every second of it, but I ended up turning it into a hobby. And I make a mean bolognaise if I do say so myself.”
Cole grinned at him. “Then I’ll trust your judgement. For the record, though, I have exactly none of the ingredients at home. So we’ll need everything.”
“That I can do.” Ryan quickly loaded some spaghetti noodles into the basket, two jars of plain tomato sauce, then headed for the meat section to grab some spiced ground sausage. “Can I ask you something?” he said after a moment of silence.
“You can,” Cole said, but there was a little wariness in his tone.
Ryan hesitated, not wanting to cross lines. “Do you usually shop like this? With a person? Or do you just take Kevin in alone?”
