Nice Guys Collection With Added Bonus Material

by Kindle Alexander

  “He stumbled in like this.” Colt looked up to see an older gray-haired man standing over him, looking concerned. He must have looked as bad as he felt with that much concern on the guy’s face.

  “Son, I’m Dr. Patterson. Who did this to you?” the doctor asked. The look on the doctor’s face made it clear he wasn’t buying Johnny’s story, but the agent wasn’t giving.

  “I think he’s broken some ribs, maybe most of them and you need to look at his face. It might be a broken jaw. Check his cheekbone, too. His nose is shattered,” the agent butted in. Colt focused his only good eye from the doctor to the agent who gave him a very unmistakable ‘keep your fucking mouth shut’ look.

  “We need to get him to the hospital.” The medical professional was gone from his eyesight and then came back into view. Colt could feel his gentle hand on his body, and he closed his eyes in relief.

  “No, it needs to be done here. This is Colt Michaels. We don’t need the press.”

  “No shit? He’s a good kid. Seriously, John, what happened to him?” The gentle touch faltered, and Colt hissed as the T-shirt was stripped from his body.

  “He’s pissed off the wrong people, apparently.” That was the closest thing to the truth Johnny had said since Dr. Patterson walked in the room. Colt kept his eyes closed and concentrated on breathing through the pain. Minutes felt like hours, and Colt thought he may have passed out again, until another glass of whiskey was forced down his throat.

  “Drink this. They’re bringing more people up to work on you. Stay quiet, do you understand me? You don’t know what happened. You were attacked last night. Got it? Dr. Patterson will bandage you up, and we’ll talk more when he leaves. Got it?”

  Colt nodded; it was all he could do. He was scared, alone, and broken. Who would believe him anyway? Opening his mouth, he took another drink of the offered whiskey, this time the harsh liquid didn’t burn a trail down his throat, instead soothing him. He kept his eyes closed and let sleep take him.

  Colt sat slowly, wincing through the pain. His ribs were bandaged, and he was careful of them as he eased up on the sofa. Colt happened to catch his partial reflection in the mirror hanging over the dark leather chair across from him. His face was cleaned, stitched back together, looking better than he’d thought it would after the beating he’d just suffered. Nothing hid the intense swelling or bruising, but remarkably, his father hadn’t broken anything too badly. He would heal. “How did you find out?”

  “It’s a small airport and you were too public. I knew before you left the island.”

  “You didn’t have to tell my dad.”

  “Of course I did.” Johnny watched him intently, his regular scotch and soda in one hand. He tossed the drink back, downing the contents in one swallow before hitting the mini bar in the corner of the room for a refill.

  “No, you didn’t. I’m an adult. This should have been just between us,” Colt said in little more than a whisper. The alcohol seemed to have a sedating effect on his nerves, which he welcomed. Colt looked down at his hands. The pinky on his left hand was jammed. He held out his left arm, taking note of his injuries. His left arm was already turning black and blue, but this wasn’t his throwing arm, was it? God forbid that. Colt looked over his right arm and sneered. Finding exactly what he expected, his father was always protective of his right arm. Not a scratch to be seen.

  “Colton, he’s my best friend and your manager. He’s worked your career since you were five years old. He had a right to know you were making the worst mistake of your life,” Johnny said. He placed a drink in front of Colt and sat across from him in a leather side chair.

  “I think I’m gay.” Even after being beat with an inch of his life, Colt wasn’t willing to let Jace go.

  “No, you aren’t, son,” Johnny said and drank his drink down in two big gulps.

  “I love him.” Colt hung on to Jace even if the words were said with shaken confidence.

  “No, you don’t. This thing you’re going through is normal. It’s nothing more than hormones, a rebellious kind of deal. We all go through it at your age.” Johnny was back up, refilling his glass. Colt chuckled, which pulled at his stomach muscles. He immediately regretted the action when he sucked in a breath and pain shot from his cracked ribs.

  “Don’t laugh, it’s true.” Johnny’s glass was filled to the rim this time when he took his seat across from Colt. Johnny looked so casual sitting there, so sure of himself.

  “So, you’re saying you fucked guys when you were twenty-two years old?” Colt stared at Johnny who wouldn’t look him in the eyes. Instead, he took another long drink. It sure looked like he was weighing each answer before he spoke.

  “No, I didn’t do that, but I did other things. The difference was I always kept my future first in my mind. It’s what you need to do, son.”

  “Don’t son me. You let him beat the shit out of me,” Colt said. He finally lifted his drink, taking a sip. He wasn’t sure it was a good idea to mix the pain medicine the doctor had given him with alcohol. But if Johnny needed the liquid courage to finish this conversation, he supposed he might too. No way was he giving up Jace, even after having his ass handed to him. He loved him. Jace was moving away with him; they had it all planned out. And he was the happiest he’d ever been.

  “I stopped it, didn’t I?”

  “Not soon enough,” Colt shot back. Johnny leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees, and stared at Colt for several long seconds until he finally stopped playing cat and mouse and started talking honestly.

  “There’s no way this is gonna be acceptable to the NFL. Your father has too much ridin’ on you. He’s not gonna let this just slide by, you know that. When we heard what was goin’ on in Hawaii, your dad went fuckin’ nuts. He wanted to go after that boy.”

  “Jace knows we have to hide.” Colt didn’t know the time, and he carefully turned his head to look out the window. It was dark outside. Shit, he’d been here all day, and he’d told Jace to wait at the hotel for him.

  “Son, you can’t hide well enough. Look what just happened.”

  “Were you watching me?” Colt asked. He searched his shorts, looking for his phone. It wasn’t there.

  “None of that matters. You just got the shit beat out of you by your family. Wait until you get on the field. You’ll be more of a target than you’ll ever understand. No team’s gonna pick you up and watch their quarterback be targeted. Ain’t gonna happen, son. Homosexuality’s frowned upon in the sports world.” Johnny drained his glass but didn’t move. He sat there staring at Colt. All Colt cared about was his phone. It wasn’t on him. He looked around the couch and then around the floor to see if it fell out when his dad attacked.

  Colt started to ask, but the agent interrupted him.

  “Son, you aren’t hearing me. Listen to me closely. When we first found out, your own father was ready to take the cheerleader out of the equation… Do you get my meaning?” That caused Colt to stop searching and stare at Johnny. His heart panicked at the words. To have his father put this kind of whoop ass on Jace. God please no…

  “His name’s Jace Montgomery. I think that’s the name on the report. It took about thirty seconds to find out who you were with. Colton, this isn’t just about you, it’s not gonna be good for him, either. What happened to you is nothing compared to what will happen to him. Your daddy loves you. Imagine if he paid someone to go after Jace. And it would be all your fault. You’d be painting a big red target right on his back.”

  “No, no, not Jace,” Colt shook his head as dread filled him. Where was Jace now? Colt stood, the room started to spin around him. He was weak, but he had to go find Jace and warn him. Colt was wobbly on his feet, and he stumbled until the agent stood in front of him, blocking him, and forced him back down on the couch.

  “Calm down, I stopped your dad. The boy isn’t going to be touched, at least not right now, but if you don’t stop this, I can’t protect him or you. You know how your dad is, and he’s serious. You
’re throwing away too much by keeping this going.” Anger shot through Colt, and he fisted Johnny’s dress shirt, drawing him in closer. Colt wasn’t in any condition to make this show of brute force, but that didn’t stop the fear from building rage inside him.

  “Yeah, you’re right to be concerned, that boy’s life rests in your hands.” Somewhere in the back of Colt’s mind, he knew Johnny was playing him, but the dread was already taking up residence in his gut. This couldn’t be happening. Jace was too beautiful of a person to go through something like this. Johnny held his position, right there in Colt’s face, letting Colt keep a hold of him even though he could have easily broken away.

  “Your family’s name has too much ridin’ on you right now. And remember they love you. Let some unsuspecting team sign you and find out you’re gay. You won’t be able to keep either of you safe. Is it worth that risk? I wouldn’t let the person I care for go through that.”

  Colt was silent for several minutes. He released his hold as his heart shattered, now becoming the most painful part of his battered and broken body. All his hopes and dreams of starting a new life with Jace crumbled down around him. Colt picked up the glass, staring down at the amber liquid, thinking things over. He was so confused; what was he going to do? He wanted Jace. Colt drained the glass. Another glass appeared in front of him, along with the bottle. He downed the whisky in a few gulps and poured another. An undetermined amount of time passed as Colt sat there warring with himself.

  “I love him, I love him so much,” Colt said in defeat.

  “Then protect him. You need to take the high road and be what you need to be at this stage in your life, unattached and focused on your future. It’ll save his life.”

  “He’s not gonna understand. There has to be a way,” Colt said, emotion clogging his throat.

  “Clean break, Colton. I’m not supposed to tell you, but your father’s havin’ you followed. The cheerleader will be followed, too. He’s prepared to do whatever it takes to keep you from makin’ this mistake. I hope you understand what I’m gettin’ at.”

  “Fuck it,” Colt said and bypassed the glass, opting for the bottle.

  “End it, now, before this ends him, and I promise it will end him.”

  Colt couldn’t let Jace be hurt. He had to protect him, no matter how badly his heart broke. Jace was too good for this, too perfect for Colt’s world. He gripped the crystal glass, fighting the conflicting emotions pouring through him. The glass went flying across the room, shattering against the farthest wall. Colt watched the broken pieces fall to the floor, along with his dreams of a life with Jace.

  Chapter 10

  Early Wednesday morning, Colt sat slumped in a chair at the Shaggy Dawg, a local bar targeting athletes. Country music played in the background. Little female barflies sat like groupies ripe for the picking. This place was like a home to him. Colt spent more time here over the last four years than anywhere else, including the football field.

  His teammates and buddies were all there, hanging out at his table. Colt had stayed drunk pretty much since leaving Johnny’s office, and the drinks hadn’t stopped flowing all night long. They dulled the ache of his body, but not so much the one in his heart. His one good eye focused on the clock against the back wall of the bar. Already close to two o’clock in the morning—closing time. And that scared the shit out of him. Did he have enough alcohol at his apartment to get through the night?

  “I still can’t fuckin’ believe you got fuckin’ jumped. What’s this damn town comin’ to?” Hank Wilson asked. He was a redneck country boy from Kansas who’d played ball with Colt since their freshman year. They were friends, although Hank’s days were numbered. He didn’t make the cut for the draft.

  “Yeah, it sucks, man. If I’d’ve fuckin’ been there, this would be a way different deal.” Paul Moon slurred his words while slamming a drunken fist down on the small round table in front of him. He was another four-year player, and he reached across the table, giving Hank an angry fist bump.

  “Damn straight, it’d be a different fuckin’ deal. We should be out lookin’ for those mother fuckers. It’s such bullshit, man!” Hank agreed, his words said on a slur as spit flew out across the table. They were all completely trashed. So much for studies! Colt was the only one who was in line to end his college years with a degree. Now, it sure was looking like that wouldn’t be happening. He didn’t see any of his professors allowing him to come to class drunk, and he didn’t ever plan to be sober again.

  “Nah, calm down, I handled it,” Colt said, and drained his Jack and Coke, lifting his hand for another. The tail his dad had on him sat perched at the bar, drinking water, and every so often looking over to check on him. They were easy to spot, and he wondered if they were just an intimidation tactic. Hell, it worked. Colt was intimidated, and the guy served as a constant reminder he needed to protect Jace at all cost.

  “You’re being shady fuckin’ quiet about this, Colt. What’s the deal?” Hank said, leaning almost across the table to get closer to Colt. The spit never slowed as Hank eyed him closely.

  “You never drink this much,” a cute blonde said to him. She stood just to the right of Colt, concern on her pretty downturned face. “Are you okay?”

  “He’d be better if you sucked him off right now,” Paul said to the cheers of Hank, both were now focused on the girl who shot them a hateful look.

  “Don’t be rude,” the girl shot back, before turning to Colt. “You don’t look good, Colt. Let me call Magda. You don’t belong here like this…” She was cut off in mid-sentence, and from out of nowhere, her body was shoved down against Colt’s. The girl lost her footing and slammed into him. Pain shot the length of his body, momentarily robbing his brain of function. He shoved back in his chair, but hit the wall as her face made contact with his crotch.

  The guys at the table were hooting and hollering, carrying on as Hank shoved her head down. He held her firmly in place, pressing her face against Colt’s blue jean covered groin. The girl let out a scream and pushed against Colt’s stomach and ribs.

  “Goddammit, Hank!” Colt yelled, but he wasn’t heard. He focused on controlling her hands, which pushed her farther into his lap. Jace appeared in front of him, pulling the girl from Hank’s hold.

  Jace walked through the streets of Austin worried sick about Colt for two solid days. He had waited for hours at the hotel, well past the time of check out. Somewhere around six o’clock in the evening Jace finally sent one single text message asking if Colt was okay. He never heard anything back. He waited at the hotel until about nine that night before he finally called Gregory for a ride home.

  Jace missed class the next day, waiting for Colt to call. He’d also missed his classes on Tuesday worried sick, waiting by his phone, the television on, hoping to hear something, anything, from Colt. Jace couldn’t figure out what possibly could have happened. Surely if something terrible happened, the local news would cover the story. Colt was as big a celebrity in their small town as just about anyone. When he hadn’t heard anything, Jace started scouting out Colt’s townhome complex, and then pacing the halls in front of his classes.

  By midnight Wednesday, Jace did the girl thing and called all the hospitals. When that effort turned up nothing, he again walked past Colt’s place about thirty times before deciding to head into town. He had no plan, except to search for anyone who might know something about Colt. Funny how the thought never occurred to him Colt might have abandoned him at the hotel. It still didn’t as he walked past the bar where all the football guys hung out. Jace glanced through the big open window at the front of the bar, and his heart seized in his chest when he saw Colt sitting at the table with his friends. What the hell?

  From where he stood, Jace could see Colt had been beaten up. As he gazed in the window, Jace’s worst fears materialized as he looked closer at the side of Colt’s bruised face and body. Jace pulled out his phone and texted Colt while standing there staring in through the window. He’d never entered
this bar before. The Shaggy Dawg was restricted domain, a guy’s guy kind of place. Every player that had ever given him a hard time hung out at the Shaggy Dawg. Jace waited and watched, but Colt never searched out his phone.

  The thought occurred to Jace, maybe Colt had been mugged and they had taken his phone. Maybe? But it was Colt slightly turning in his chair, giving Jace a better angle of his torn up face that made him throw caution to the wind and enter. Jace pushed through the front door, stepping inside, ignoring everything going on around him. He wound his way directly back to Colt’s table. All the while he tried to calm his pounding heart. He needed to play this cool and yet somehow get some answers.

  As Jace got closer, he saw a girl at Colt’s table. She spoke directly to Colt. Jace recognized the girl from her years of hanging out with the guys. He got close enough to see her being shoved down by the head toward Colt. To Colt’s credit, he recoiled at the touch, pain clear on his face. It wasn’t within Jace to ignore such a violent act, and he instinctively intervened when Hank wouldn’t let her go.

  No question, everyone at the table was drunk off their asses. Jace helped the girl up as he focused on Colt. He got right in his face with panic filling his heart at what he saw. The entire left side of Colt’s face was contorted, swollen, and bruised.

  “What happened? Are you all right?” Jace asked, the girl he’d helped all but forgotten. Seconds later, Jace was ripped away from Colt. Hank was in his face, pushing him backward.

  “What the fuck are you doing here, fag?” Hank stayed on Jace with each step he took, his big beefy hands shoving against Jace’s chest. Paul came out of nowhere and pushed at Jace, too. They worked together, caused Jace to lose his footing and slam back against a crowded table. He toppled drinks and sent the table sliding until finally dumping over. Jace fell with it. Everyone sitting at the table got angry and involved, all focused on Jace. Hank was standing over him, pulling him up by the collar, only to push him backward again. This time, Jace stumbled back several steps until he landed on his knees.