by Sara York
“I love you,” he breathed out.
Scotty turned to him, his eyes glassy and his mouth slack. He cleared his throat and tried to talk. “Babe—fuck, that—”
Wesley waited for him to finish, worry starting to eat away at him. What if he’d hurt his man too much? Then Scotty rolled toward him and pulled him into a hug, peppering kisses over Wesley’s face.
Scotty pulled back and looked him square in the eyes. “I’m never letting you go.”
“I’m yours forever, but I do need to go home. I have a test early in the morning, and I need to finish studying. Is that okay?”
“Yes, my love. I won’t make you stay.”
“Good, because if I was here, I’d never get out of this bed.”
Scotty laughed and rolled to stand, groaning as his feet swung to the floor. “Damn, that monster of yours did a number on me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I wanted it and knew how it would feel.”
“So, have you bottomed much?” The way Scotty was with him he couldn’t imagine the man bottoming at all.
Scotty stopped moving, his head hung low. “No, I haven’t bottomed in a very long time.”
Wesley jumped up and placed his hand on Scotty’s shoulder. “Thank you.”
Scotty turned around. A haunted look filled his eyes before he changed his expression, covering the pain Wesley had spied in the depths. “No, thank you.”
* * * *
With Wesley gone, Scotty sunk to the floor and allowed the memories from the past to escape from the dark recesses of his mind and fill him, washing away any happiness and pleasure. The pain each memory brought was like a stab to the heart. It had been so long since he’d allowed any thoughts of the past to fill his mind like this. He hated thinking about what had happened—what he’d done and how he’d been used.
Before the house burned, he and his siblings—if they really were his siblings—had been forced to perform sex acts with each other and sometimes with men who paid. They’d spent their days locked away, hidden from the world. At night, one or all of them—well, not the ones under eight—were carted off to a building across town and forced to do despicable things. He’d prayed time and time again for their van to crash, but it never did.
He’d been taught to read, and by some miracle, he’d discovered a few books. They were his only refuge, his only friends. When the fire hit, leaving him the only surviving person in the house, he’d lost all of his books. He convinced himself that the books were the only things he cared about—trying like hell to block out everything else from his past, including the people he’d called his brothers.
Amazingly, the fire brought freedom. He’d never revealed the full truth to anyone, not the police, not the counselors who asked millions of questions, and never to his foster parents. In his foster parents’ home, he’d had access to books, thousands of books at the local library. The first time he’d entered a library, he fell in love. The order of the shelves overwhelmed him. All the spines were so beautiful, facing out, showing him worlds he never knew existed. He’d sat in a dark wooden chair, watching for hours until the library closed. Day after day he returned, watching and learning. After a week, he’d asked a lady working at the front desk how she got her job, and when she told him, he knew he could do it too.
With a plan in mind, he’d known that if he told anyone what had happened at the house, they’d take his library away. So he’d kept his secrets and his sexuality hidden, sneaking away to have sex with older men because that’s all he knew. He studied like crazy, working late to make sure he could more than pass every test, scoring better than anyone else in his grade.
He’d met his goals, going to college and graduating top of his class. His Master’s in Library Science landed him a spot exactly where he wanted to work. Everything in his universe was right. He had order at work, order at home, but the order in his sex life was deteriorating. Wesley had slipped under his defenses, getting closer than anyone had before. For a brief moment this morning, right after Scotty had come and he lay in post-orgasmic bliss, he’d contemplated telling Wesley the truth, but he couldn’t risk losing his lover. He might have been underage when he’d been sold as a rent boy, but he’d been loose with his love life after being rescued, and there hadn’t been any excuse for that. Plus, if he told Wesley about his past, he’d have to reveal that he’d done a scene recently. Full disclosure meant everything, and if he opened the can of worms, he knew he’d never get the lid back on.
Scotty shivered as he tried to push memories of the past away. He needed to get his shit together and stop feeling sorry for himself. Wesley didn’t need to know about his history, how he’d accidently knocked over the lantern that started the fire or how he’d allowed other men to abuse him, thus his reason for only topping once he became an adult, nor did he need to know that his father sold him week after week to strange men who did all sorts of things to him. All Wesley needed to know was that Scotty was in charge and could take care of him.
Chapter Fourteen
Wesley stared at Dustin as he shoveled cereal into his mouth, acting like nothing was wrong. “What the hell. That’s one killer bruise. You say you fell?”
“Yeah, it’s not a big deal. I’m fine.”
He didn’t believe the story. No way did he believe that Dustin had fallen and ended up with a world-class shiner on his cheek. “I…you…Dustin! Look, if you need to tell me something, I don’t know—anything at all, I’m here.”
Dustin stopped eating and stared at him. A shudder ripped through his body, and he ducked his head. “I’m fine. I’m never going to do that again. Just drop it, please.”
Wesley didn’t want to drop the subject, but he sure as hell didn’t want to push, not with the dejected look swimming in Dustin’s gaze. He still needed to study, and he wanted to talk to Scotty before he went to bed. Without another word, he left the kitchen and found his books and drawing tablet. The test for his Costume Design course would account for thirty percent of his grade. Valentine ’s Day was just around the corner, and neither he nor Scotty had mentioned it. He wondered if he should say something or just let the day pass like any other day.
After studying for over an hour, Wesley decided to take a break. It was too early to call Scotty so he grabbed a soda, did a bio break, and hit the books again. A knock sounded at the door, and he glanced up, seeing that he’d been studying for almost three hours straight. Dustin called out that he’d get the front door, so Wesley picked up his phone and dialed Scotty, glad for an excuse to break. As he waited for Scotty to pick up, he admired one of the costumes he’d created for The Lion King. It was close to the original, but he’d put a spin on the mane that few before him had taken. He liked his handiwork.
“Hello, gorgeous,” Scotty purred over the line.
“Babe, I miss you.”
“Are you studying hard?”
“Yes, I’m stoked. Everyone wants to take a stab at Broadway—I mean who wouldn’t, right? So I took the basic costume for Nala and adjusted it. It’s trite to do a costume for The Lion King, but it’s a great adjustment.”
“I’d love to see it.”
Wesley hadn’t shared any of his drawings with Scotty so far. Not that he didn’t want to, but they were so new to each other, and they’d been doing other things. “Um, sure. If you’d like.”
“Of course I would,” Scotty said. Wesley heard furniture scrape in the main room of his apartment and rolled off the bed. “Wes, you still there?”
“Um, yeah.” A muffled cry set his heart to racing. “Just a second, something’s off.”
“Wesley, what’s wrong?”
“Don’t know. Just give me a second.” Wesley pulled open his bedroom door, stepping into the den. A side table had been knocked over, and he heard another muted scream coming from the kitchen.
“Dustin,” he called out, his voice shaking and weak. Fear raced through him as he approached the eating nook that held their small dining tabl
e. “Dustin, what’s up?”
The grunting continued, and he could hear Scotty yelling at him over the phone, but he needed to look.
“Fuck yeah,” a strange deep voice yelled out.
Wesley rounded the corner, his eyes going wide. Dustin lay naked on the floor, tears covered his face, and blood ran down one arm. “Run, Wesley,” he yelled, but it was too late. The guy standing over Dustin turned, and Wesley glanced up, seeing the guy clearly for the first time. He sucked in a breath and tried to turn but tripped, almost going down to his knees. The bastard from the club, the one who had mauled him, moved quickly, grabbing onto Wesley’s shirt and hauling him off the floor. He screamed and dropped his phone.
“Fuckin’ A. Who would have guessed I’d have found you here? Two for the price of one.”
Dustin was up, pawing at Aaron’s shoulder, but the man shoved Dustin hard, knocking him to the ground. His head smacked against the wall, the sound a dull thud that made Wesley’s stomach turn.
Wesley tried to scream but fear closed his throat. “Help” came out as a squeak, thin and thready instead of forceful and strong. He struggled against Aaron’s hold, kicking and scratching, trying to make as much noise as possible.
Aaron slung him up over his shoulder, knocking the wind from Wesley. He was dead weight as the bastard made his way to the open door to Wesley’s room.
He got his voice back and shrieked, “No, let me go!” But Aaron only chuckled and popped him on the ass. Wesley cried out as the sting settled in.
“Yeah, baby, I like it when they struggle,” Aaron growled as he tossed Wesley to the middle of the bed.
The sudden movement caught him off guard, and he remained on the mattress for a few beats before trying to escape. Aaron laughed as he wrapped his fingers around Wesley’s leg and jerked.
“Shit, that fucking hurt,” Wesley yelled.
“Baby, that’s nothing. I’m going to fuck you over so hard you can’t walk.”
Wesley stilled, realizing that he might be killed by this beast. The man was big and mean, and Wesley didn’t doubt for one second that Aaron wouldn’t stop if Wesley were uncomfortable with sex.
“That’s right, slave boy, you had best obey my every command. I’m going to teach you how to sub, and you’re going to like it.”
Aaron swiped at the books and papers Wesley had left on his bed before reaching for the lamp, jerking it off the table. The big bastard blocked the exit as he wrapped the lamp cord around his wrist. Wesley crawled to the other side of the bed, making himself as small as possible as Aaron ripped the cord off the lamp.
The bastard pulled at the cord, snapping it hard. “This will do just fine to tie you to the bed until I can find something more suitable. Give me your leg.”
Wesley shook his head, refusing to move. His only hope was to stall and pray that Scotty knew enough to call the police. He might survive if he stalled, but once Aaron had him tied up, he’d never get loose. There’d be no safewords with this bastard, no way of getting the bonds loosened or of breaking free. Aaron would use him up until he died, maybe even past that.
“I said, give me your leg.”
“No, I’m not going to let you do this.”
“You ain’t got a choice. Scotty ain’t here to protect you, and I’m going to do as I please. So don’t fucking say no to me again, got it, boy? I’ll make you pay for this.”
Aaron moved closer, and Wesley saw an opportunity. He dashed off the bed and had almost made it to the door when he felt Aaron’s hand come down hard on his shoulder. Wesley ducked and got out of his grasp, running into the den.
Aaron tackled him, taking them both down hard. The air left his lungs again, and this time he saw stars. A quick glance at the door showed him that the lock hadn’t been turned. Anyone could come in. Maybe, just maybe, Scotty had called this in. As Aaron pawed at him, turning him over and pinning him to the floor, he glanced at Dustin, shocked to see blood pooled around him on the floor. Aaron followed his gaze and snorted out a laugh.
“Worried about your little buddy? I should make you fuck him the same way I made him and Jesse do it.”
Wesley’s gaze shot to Aaron, and the bastard threw back his head, cackling like a crazed man. “Let me guess, he didn’t tell you about that? Oh yeah, I’m going to make you fuck your buddy, and if you don’t, I’ll cut off his balls.”
The world went black for a moment as Aaron pulled him up and slapped his face so hard he thought he’d lost a tooth. When his head finally cleared, he realized how easy it would be to fuck Dustin, because if he was busy with Dustin, he wouldn’t be busy with Aaron, and then maybe a miracle would happen and the cops or Scotty would be here.
Suddenly, Aaron ripped off Wesley’s shirt and pressed him up against the wall. “But first, I want a taste of you. Your nips are so pink.”
Pain twisted through him as Aaron grabbed one nipple and pinched hard. He cried out, and Aaron laughed. He pinched and twisted the other nipple, making Wesley think he was going to pass out from the pain.
“Like that?”
“No,” he panted.
“Sure you do. Let’s do that again.”
Pain filled him as Aaron tugged and pinched, leaving angry red marks on his chest. He fought to be free, but the man was big and strong. At one point, he slipped from Aaron’s grasp, and the jerk let his fist fly, knocking Wesley to his ass. Aaron picked up the side table and broke off the leg. He slapped it on his palm twice, then brought it down hard on Wesley’s leg. He screamed as pain rocketed through his body. For a moment, he wished the blows from Aaron would have knocked him out, but if he weren’t conscious, he couldn’t stop the man from raping him. Of course, even with his wits about him, Wesley didn’t think he’d be able to stop this man.
Aaron grabbed at Wesley’s pants, popping open the button and ripping the zipper down. Wesley struggled against him, but Aaron was bigger and had the fucking stick that he kept hitting Wesley with. Finally, after Aaron had hit him more than ten times, he knocked Wesley to the floor and stripped him bare. Naked and frightened, Wesley crawled to the corner and curled into a ball. He tried to make it to the door, but Aaron blocked the way, and Wesley knew he’d get kicked if he came close to the man. For a few brief seconds, Aaron just stared at him, and Wesley prayed that the guy would show some compassion and give up this ridiculous evil and walk away. But there was no such luck.
“You’re so pretty. I can’t wait to leave my mark on you.” Aaron stalked to him and scooped him up. Wesley struggled, trying to break free, but it was no use. The bastard carried Wesley to the bedroom and pressed him into the mattress, stretching out above him, making it impossible for Wesley to get free. He tried like crazy to keep his legs locked together, but Aaron flipped him over and shoved his legs apart by wedging one beefy leg between Wesley’s smaller legs, his knee resting on Wesley's thigh, pressing hard.
Pain came with the pressure as Aaron pushed his other leg wide. Wesley cried and screamed, wishing that he’d be saved from this hell. As he struggled, it seemed like Aaron became more and more excited. He wanted to pass out, but darkness wouldn’t come. His struggles had him pressed against the headboard with nowhere to escape.
The door burst open behind them just as Aaron scrubbed his finger over Wesley’s crease. He screamed, praying this wasn’t his imagination. Aaron was pulled away, and Wesley rolled into a ball. Sobs and tears were all he had. A blanket was thrown over him, and he cried hard, agonizing sobs, hiding from the other people in the room.
Someone was kneeling beside him, but his tears had blurred his vision and he couldn’t make out who was there.
“Son, what is your name?” The voice was kind and soft, a southern lilt making the man sound almost melodic.
Wesley sobbed and tried to speak, but he couldn’t get the words to flow. The relief coursing through him had closed up his throat. Time passed, and the guy beside him said nothing, just sat patiently, waiting for him to speak.
Wesley dried his face and
swallowed. “Wesley, my name is Wesley Reese.”
“Good, I’m glad you’re safe. Your friend called us and was afraid of what was happening here. I need to ask you a few questions before we transport you to the hospital.”
He moved to sit up, which turned out to be a bad idea. The dizziness returned, and he slumped back to the mattress.
“Just lie still and don’t try to get up again. It will all be okay.”
Wesley nodded, but he wasn’t sure it would all be okay. The cops had taken Aaron away, but images of the man above him, touching him, raced through Wesley’s mind, and he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to forget.
“Okay, we’re going to start with the most difficult question first. We just need to know. Did he penetrate you?”
He shook his head and his vision dimmed. “No,” he finally choked out, crying fresh tears as relief filled him. The need to see Scotty had him looking around the room, searching for his lover. “Scotty, I need Scotty.”
“Just a minute, son, and I’ll see what I can do.”
Wesley watched the cop as he moved to the bedroom door, talking in hushed tones to another police officer. Their gazes flashed toward Wesley, and he squirmed. In the last minute, he’d calmed, realizing that he was safe. Aaron couldn’t get to him.
The cops stopped talking to each other, and the guy who had been with him came back and knelt down again. “I’ve heard that Scotty Fuller is outside, but he can’t come in. This is a crime scene, and we need to collect some evidence. Your friend in the other room, what is his name?”
“Dustin Miller. Is he—” Wesley let loose a painful moan. “—is he, you know, dead?”
The cop glanced through the doorway to the den. “So far it looks like he’s alive. I don’t have a recent update, but he did lose a lot of blood. Can you tell me what happened?”
