THE PHOENIX WEDDING: The Complete 6 Books Series

by CJ Bishop

  “What’re you doing?” Savannah asked warily.

  “If I’m going to have the name…” Maddy stepped around the table and dropped into the chair beside Savannah. He slid his arm along the back of her chair and leaned in close, his lips close to hers. “…might as well have the game.” He kissed her. Softly at first…then more deeply as his hand tucked into her hair and cupped the back of her head.

  A quiet moan rose in Savannah’s throat and she touched her fingertips to his neck, then slowly trailed them down to his chest. His training and workouts with Cory and Axel were paying off, transforming his body from that of a boy…to a man. Her palms flattened against his strong muscles as Maddy leaned closer, their knees lacing between one another. She moaned again and her fingers curled, squeezing his shirt into her fists.

  Maddy’s warm breath sifted from his nostrils, cascading over her cheek, as he tentatively probed her mouth with his soft tongue. Nothing about him felt boyish…adolescent. Though their ages contradicted her thoughts, she knew they weren’t just two kids with crushes; they were a man and a woman in love.

  That reality warmed her body; a heat that began to slowly grow hotter as Maddy gently sucked her tongue, his fingertips tensely holding her head.

  When she started to let go, fall into the passion, another reality struck her with a painful blow and she pulled away quickly. Her hand absently covered her mouth, trembling a little. “Don’t, Maddy,” she whispered, her eyes turned away.

  His chest rose and fell unsteadily as he stroked his fingers through her hair. “Don’t what, Savannah?” His words tumbled from his lips unevenly, his mouth still so close to her face, pressing kisses to her cheek.

  She swallowed thickly. “Don’t…kiss me like that. We shouldn’t…”

  “It’s safe for us to kiss,” he murmured and turned her face to his, kissing her lips. “There’s no risk.”

  She shifted her face away. “There might be,” she whispered fearfully. “When we…kiss like that.”

  “Is that really what you think,” he asked softly. “Or are you just scared of how it makes you feel?”

  Savannah looked at him anxiously but didn’t answer.

  “It’s okay to feel…that way,” he whispered. “To feel the passion.”

  Her throat knotting and aching, Savannah shook her head. “It isn’t okay, Maddy. Not for me.”

  “Why not for you?”

  Savannah trembled. “Stop it.”

  “What?”

  Her face pinched in anguish and she met his stare through tear-filled eyes. “Stop pretending like I’m a normal girlfriend, someone that…” she ducked her head. “…that one day you’ll be able to…make love to.”

  “Not to be presumptuous,” Maddy murmured and smiled, brushing his lips on her ear. “But I plan to one day.”

  He was serious, and that both excited and terrified Savannah. She knew that Maddy believed if they took extra precautions, then they could safely make love. But nothing was one-hundred-percent fool proof. And if there was a risk at all—no matter how small—that Maddy could become infected, she would never make love to him.

  Her fears mounted, though, as he sat here with her; his warm, soft lips exploring her neck, dropping tender kisses on her skin. And the woman in her longing for the man in him with a love and desire and passion that she was afraid would one day become stronger than her will to resist.

  ♦

  Jim said it was my fault. Abel looked around the apartment as they followed behind Noah. The place was nice enough—certainly a hell of a lot nicer than the home he and Savannah had lived in while with their parents—but Noah’s heartbroken statement cautioned Abel where his dad was concerned.

  “Wait here,” Noah said quietly when they entered the kitchen. “I’ll go get Jim.” He hesitated, looking anxiously toward the short hallway.

  “Is something wrong?” Abel asked.

  Noah bit his lip and shrugged. “He doesn’t like to be disturbed in the morning.”

  “It isn’t that early,” Devlin said. “Does he have a job?”

  “No.” Noah looked at them. “He used to…before the accident. Then he quit working, said it was so he could stay home and take care of me.”

  Abel stared at him. “Does he take care of you?”

  Noah shook his head. “He makes me cook and clean.”

  “Isn’t that hard on you?” Devlin asked, indicating his gimp leg.

  The boy nodded. “It hurts when I stand up too long.”

  “Do you take any pain medication?”

  “I’m supposed to, but…”

  Abel frowned. “But what, Noah?”

  “Jim won’t give them to me,” Noah said. “He keeps going to the pharmacy and getting more, but I’m not using them up. I think…I think he is.”

  Fucker. The bitter thought snapped through Abel’s head. Even now, it was plain to see that Noah was in discomfort.

  “Do you see a physical therapist for your leg?” Devlin asked with concern.

  The boy shook his head.

  Devlin frowned. “The doctor didn’t prescribe physical therapy?” Devlin seemed mystified.

  “He did,” Noah murmured. “I was supposed to go three times a week, after I got out of the hospital, but Jim wouldn’t take me. He said I was fine and the therapy was just them trying to get more money out of him. He said I would heal up without it.” He looked at the floor. “It didn’t.”

  Abel watched the tension strain Devlin’s face. “What about other therapy?” he asked quietly. “You were in the car with your mom when the accident happened?”

  Noah nodded.

  “Did the doctor suggest that you talk to someone?” Devlin asked him. “Someone who could help you come to terms with what you went through, how you were feeling?”

  The boy shrugged. “Yeah. But Jim said it was just a bunch of…bull crap. Said that’s why there’s so many fags in the world, because kids are always being babied and stuff, and not learning how to be real men by just dealing with stuff by themselves.”

  Abel turned away from the boy, his jaw clenching. You’re still a worthless piece of shit. What the hell would you know about being a real man?

  “Well, he’s wrong,” Devlin said gently.

  “I know,” Noah whispered.

  “Good,” Devlin told him. “That’s important, that you know he’s wrong about that.”

  “I think he thinks I’m…”

  “What?”

  Abel turned back around and looked at Noah.

  “A…fag.” Noah kept his eyes averted.

  “He thinks you’re gay?” Abel asked slowly. “Are you?”

  Noah shrugged again. “I don’t’ know,” he mumbled.

  Devlin walked closer. “Does it bother you to think you might be?”

  “It scares me,” he whispered. “Jim said if he ever found out I was queer, he would whip the skin off me and throw me in the sewer and let the rats eat me.”

  Staring at the boy incredulously, Devlin shook his head. “He said that?”

  “Yes.”

  “Has he ever…” Abel swallowed hard. “…whipped you? With a belt…or something else?”

  “Yes.”

  Abel ducked his head and ran his hand over his brow, squeezing. “Devlin…” he whispered thickly.

  Devlin touched his arm and nodded, then looked at Noah. “How does Jim pay bills and buy food if he doesn’t work?”

  “I got a bunch of money when my mom died,” Noah murmured.

  “Life insurance money?”

  “Yeah…I think.”

  “Just you?” Devlin asked. “Did Jim get any?”

  “I don’t think so,” the boy said. “Right after I got the money, he was really mad…calling my mom dirty names, saying she didn’t leave him anything but a…a useless kid that wasn’t even his.”

  Insurance money. That’s why Noah was still here—Jim needed Noah if he wanted access to the money?

  Devlin looked at Abel. “Call…�
� A door slammed down the hall, cutting him off.

  “God dammit, Noah! I told you to keep that fucking TV turned down!” Bare feet smacked hard against the wood floor, approaching with fury. Noah gasped and shuffled backward a few steps, nearly stumbling over his own injured leg. Abel heard the distinct ziiipp of a belt being yanked free from belt loops. He barely had time to think when Jim Evers came through the kitchen doorway, leather belt looped once and gripped fiercely in his fist. “I swear to God, boy! You’re fucking-” He abruptly silenced upon spotting Abel and Devlin. Eyes narrowed, he muttered, “Who the hell are you?” He shot an icy glare at Noah. “What the fuck you doing letting strangers into the house?”

  The man was remarkably groomed; clean shaven, short cropped hair, clothes that looked fairly new. Abel had envisioned him looking as he had the last time he’d seen him—shaggy, unwashed hair, scraggy beard stubble, and dingy clothing. But though the “exterior” had changed, not much else seemed to have.

  Noah’s eyes were glued to the belt as he pressed against the counter. “He…he said he was your…”

  Drawing Jim Evers’ focus, Abel met his eyes with a cool stare. “Your son.”

  The man frowned, eyes narrowing to near slits. “I don’t have a son.”

  Was it possible that excessive drug use had actually erased Abel and Savannah from his memory? Could that happen? Or did he just choose not to acknowledge them? Abel suspected the latter. “Six years ago,” Abel spoke low, with a rigid edge. “Your kids—Jesse and Kimberly—were taken from you and put in an orphanage because you and our mother were piece of shit parents. You don’t remember that?”

  The man stared at him, his narrowed eyes widening just a fraction. “What the hell do you want from me?” he muttered hardly above a whisper.

  Abel looked back at him. “Nothing,” he murmured. “I don’t want a damn thing from you.” He glanced at Noah, then back to Jim. “Correction. I want one thing—Noah. We’re taking him out of here.”

  “Really?” Noah trembled, eyes widening with hope.

  “Yes,” Abel said, still staring at his dad. “Go grab your things. Don’t worry about clothes, we’ll get you new ones.”

  Noah started to move and Jim stabbed a finger at him. “Don’t you fucking move, boy. You’re not going anywhere.” He gripped the belt harder and raised his arm a bit in a threatening manner. Noah froze. Jim glared at Abel. “Who the fuck do you think you are? You think you can just walk into my house and take my kid?”

  “I’m not your kid,” Noah whispered.

  Jim’s head snapped his way. “You are now, you mouthy little fuck—since you killed your mother!”

  “Don’t say that shit to him!” Abel snapped as Noah recoiled from the man’s wounding words, tears springing up.

  “Get over here!” Jim ordered Noah, ignoring Abel. “You’re not fucking leaving!”

  “I’m not staying here!” Noah cried. “I hate you!”

  Jim’s chest heaved. “I said get over here—or I swear to God I’ll beat you within an inch of your worthless life!” He stepped toward Noah and Devlin moved in front of the boy. Jim halted and stared at him hard, eyes burning. “Who the hell are you?”

  “Dr. Devlin Grant,” Devlin said. “And you’re not touching this boy.”

  Abel’s guts knotted. His dad was no small man, and neither Abel nor Devlin were “fighters”. Even so, they would both do everything in their power to protect Noah.

  “Well, Doc…” Jim let the buckle end of the belt drop free. “You either get the fuck out of the way or take his whipping for him.”

  Devlin stared back, eyes unwavering, feet rooted in place.

  Jim moved forward with every intention of making good his threat. Fear and rage surged through Abel and he grabbed Jim’s arm, jerking him around. “Don’t you fucking touch him!” His fist smashed into his dad’s jaw before he even knew he’d swung on the man, knocking Jim back through the doorway where he hit down on the floor of the hall with a heavy thud and grunt. An instant pain shot through Abel’s hand and up his forearm.

  He hardly dazed the man and Jim cursed him, lunging forward—halted instantly by the barrel of a gun grinding into his head, shoving him back down to the floor. Abel blinked as the cowboy seemed to materialize out of thin air.

  “Take the punch like a real man…” Clint growled low in his thick southern drawl, his cool jade eyes boring into Jim Evers from beneath the brim of his cowboy hat as he drew back the hammer with a cold, ominous click. “…or take the bullet like a dead man.”

  Chapter 10

  “Are you going to invite us in?” Dane stared at his cousin. “I came here to see my parents.”

  Freddy Shaw fidgeted anxiously. “Maybe this isn’t the best time to come in and announce…” He looked at Dane and Angel, his implication clear.

  “When will it ever be the best time?” Dane asked, and Angel noted the faint edge to his voice. “but what kind of son would I be if I didn’t invite my own parents to my wedding?”

  Freddy glanced at the closed door again then at Dane. His voice lowered a notch. “Do you really think they want this invitation? How do you think that’s going to go over?”

  “I’m fairly certain how it will go over,” Dane said. “But regardless, I am going to extend the invitation.”

  “Why didn’t you just mail them an invitation?”

  “Why do you care how it’s presented to them?”

  “Because I love Uncle George and Aunt Kate,” Freddy said. “They’re like second parents to me, and the way you left, the things you said to them…” he shook his head. “Haven’t you caused enough damage to your family, that you have to come back after all this time and tear open old wounds, make it worse?”

  Dane caused damage to them? Angel stared at the guy, his own indignation struggling to bubble up.

  “Well,” Dane murmured. “It’s good to know they were like parents to someone.”

  “Don’t hand me that bull,” Freddy replied defensively. “Your parents are great. They always have been. You were insulted because they cared about your immortal soul and tried to steer you clear of a destructive path? Yeah, how awful of them. Then you run off like some immature child and deliberately do things that openly shame them.” His eyes narrowed accusingly. “Who is the one at fault here?”

  Shaking his head slowly, Dane spoke with remarkable calm and control. “It’s easy for you, Freddy. It always has been. You were the golden boy of the family, and probably still are. All you’ve ever received was acceptance and praise. You never had to face your parents with a conflicting issue, hoping they would understand and still love you for who you were. So don’t stand there in all your glory and pretend to know a damn thing about what I went through back then.”

  “It’s past history,” Freddy said. “Why drudge it all back up now?”

  “Past history?” Dane stared at him. “That’s what I am to them? Past history? Something to lay to rest and forget about?”

  “You left them,” Freddy replied tightly. “And you’re the one who stayed away. No one even knew where you were, how to contact you.”

  “Did they?” Dane asked. “Want to contact me?” Beneath the thick layer of doubt resided a tiny glimmer of hope. Angel shifted closer to Dane, wanting to take him away from here, back to the family who loved him and adored him for the amazing man that he was.

  “You should have contacted them,” Freddy insisted.

  “So that’s a no?” Dane rubbed his mouth. “Well, I’m here now—contacting them.”

  “You shouldn’t have come back like this.”

  “Like what?”

  Angel knew, and he suspected Dane did, too.

  “If you wanted to talk to your folks, you should have…” Freddy’s eyes darted to Angel then away. “…come alone.”

  Dane rubbed his hand up Angel’s back and curled his arm around his shoulders. “Angel is a part of my life. A permanent part. He’s going to be my husband, so why wouldn’t I bring hi
m with me?”

  The man visibly flinched at the “husband” reference, a slight pinch in his face as if no part of him could accept the union of two men as a normal thing. “Do you hear yourself, Dane?” Freddy dropped his voice, turning his head partially away from Angel as if that tiny shift could keep Angel from hearing him. “Your husband? Men weren’t created to have husbands. Are you really so far gone that you can’t see how wrong that is? And now you’re here, expecting your God-fearing parents to embrace this…” he stopped.

  “This what, Freddy?” Dane asked. “This unholy union?” He gently cupped the back of Angel’s head and asked Freddy, “Does he look like he could be a part of anything unholy? He’s the most beautiful, amazing, and compassionate person I’ve ever met. Why is it so impossible for you people to understand that love can’t be put in a box? That God’s love can’t be put in a box?”

  The walls holding steadfast behind Freddy’s eyes prevented him from being touched by Dane’s words. “I can’t stop you from talking to your folks,” Freddy said. “But don’t do…this…in front of everyone. At least show them the courtesy of speaking to them in private.”

  “I’m not ashamed of who I am, Freddy,” Dane said. “And I sure as hell am not ashamed of Angel, and I’m not going to hide him away in some back room out of sight because the people around here are too small-minded to grasp that love isn’t just reserved for a select few.”

  “You can’t give even just a little, can you?” Freddy murmured. “Did you come here with the intention of shaming them?”

  Dane released a controlled breath and started to speak when the door opened. Freddy turned around as an older woman appeared in the doorway, a pleasant smile on her face.

  “Freddy, who was at the…” her eyes passed over Dane and Angel.

  “Aunt Kate…” Freddy started then glanced at Dane.

  Angel tensed, his heart pumping as Dane said quietly, “Hello, mom.”

  The woman went still and just stared at him in shocked disbelief. “Dane…?” she breathed. She seemed about to step forward and hug him, but stopped herself as her gaze came back to Angel…and to Dane’s hand resting affectionately on the back of his neck.