“How do you plan to get back to your hotel?” Xavier sniped, sounding pissed enough that Glenn almost expected another smack upside the head. “You can barely stand, so you’re definitely in no position to drive.”
Glenn straightened his spine, biting back a gasp as his ribs protested the movement.
He shoved his hands in his trouser pockets and refused to allow his body to sway. “I can drive myself just fine. I know my limits.” And if he chose to cross them, that was nobody’s business but his own.
Xavier snorted so hard Glenn felt the gust of his warm exhalation on his skin. The man smelt like coffee and mint, with a chaser of the leather he seemed to always be wearing.
“Really. You’re about a shade short of being translucent, buddy. And you’re tipping to the left. How do you think those ribs are going to feel once you’re sitting in your car, trying to drive? Think you’ll be able to stay conscious long enough to get to your room?”
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“Yes,” Glenn hissed, wishing he was as convinced as he sounded. The way he felt now, he’d probably pass out and end up in a ditch somewhere in even worse shape. “I’m fine.” He took a step and everything tilted, spinning, as the room darkened into a black void.
The next thing he knew, there was an attractive dark haired man with bright green eyes peering down at him worriedly. Glenn blinked and blinked, but nope, the man was still wearing neon pink scrubs smattered with penguins. Fuck, I must be hallucinating like crazy!
Surely no guy would really wear such…colourful…scrubs. Glenn couldn’t even imagine someone manufacturing them, because who the hell would buy them?
Apparently the guy now nose to nose with him. “Your pupils are the same size, which is good.” Gentle fingers prodded along his jaws, then up to his temples. Glenn thought he deserved an award for not whimpering in pain. “I don’t think anything’s broken, but without a set of x-rays—”
“No,” Glenn grunted out, wondering if someone had filled his mouth with cotton. His tongue felt thick and his entire mouth was so dry he could hardly swallow. Still, he swatted at the hands poking his bruised face. “Who’re you?”
How the man understood the words was a mystery to Glenn, because they sounded like slurred gibberish to him. The green eyes crinkled around the edges as the man ignored Glenn’s attempts to evade his prodding. “I’m Josh, and since you passed out in Xavier’s apartment—well, James’ apartment—who I’ve yet to meet by the way, but I’ve been told he’s my next patient to check, if he’s willing—and since I happen to be a nurse, and you refused to go to the hospital, and Xavier and Chase are friends—”
Glenn quit listening to the confusing rambling from Josh. He got the gist of it.
“Let’s get your jacket and shirt off so I can check your ribs.”
“I’m fine,” Glenn snapped, sounding a little more coherent. “Been hurt worse before.”
He caught Josh’s hands and squeezed once before releasing them. “Really,” he assured when the man turned those worried eyes to his.
“Please,” Josh asked with so much concern in his voice that Glenn knew he wasn’t going to be able to refuse again.
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Maybe the man was a brilliant actor, but Josh looked worried, and like he truly cared if Glenn was hurting, and after what had happened earlier, Glenn felt that concern wash over him, soothing a little of the aching burn of James’ hatred. He hates me. The realisation rang in Glenn like a death knell, trampling his hope into dust. It wasn’t fear that I kept seeing in James’
eyes, it was hate. How had he misinterpreted it before? Glenn couldn’t even blame James for it, because if Glenn had been faster, smarter, a better agent, James would have been found sooner and he wouldn’t have been held captive and abused. No wonder. God, I’ve been such a fucking idiot.
Glenn closed his eyes, feeling worse than he ever had He needed to give up any hope of James ever wanting him in return. “Go ahead,” he muttered to Josh, not because he cared what happened to himself at that point, but because he couldn’t bear to cause one more person harm, even if it wouldn’t truly hurt Josh if he said no. And besides, it will probably hurt like a bitch, and God knows I deserve it.
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Chapter Eleven
James shuffled his feet nervously as he waited for the knock on the door. It had been three days since he’d lost it and attacked Glenn Shearing, and the guilt and self-recriminations had eaten at him steadily. When Chase had told him about the psychiatrist willing to make house calls, James had agreed readily. He wanted to get better, and he wanted to be able to apologise to Shearing, but right now, he thought he’d have a panic attack if he tried to speak to the man.
Because there was no reason he could see for Glenn to accept his apology. Yeah, James wasn’t happy about his secrets being spilled, but he did understand he couldn’t be helped if he didn’t admit what had happened. Hiding away from the world wasn’t the answer, and he just hadn’t been strong enough to face it. He might never have been if Glenn hadn’t pushed, even if that wasn’t what Glenn had been trying to do.
Everything was such a jumble in his head, but things were starting to settle. Bits of himself he’d thought lost were floating to the surface, maybe not as strong as they used to be, but still there, still a part of him. Not gone forever, like he’d feared. He’d been too afraid that was the case to examine himself, too afraid of remembering what had happened to delve under the turbulent waves that threatened to drown him.
James rubbed at his forehead and concentrated on keeping his breathing slow and even. He could do this,; he could talk to this Doctor Shariva, listen to her, let her help, couldn’t he? Well, unless I want to end up a recluse, unable to step out my own front door, I’m gonna have to. And I want my life back! He didn’t want to be this sad, scared man he’d become.
Scarred, damaged…maybe those things would always be a part of him, but they didn’t have to rule him.
When the knock on the door came, James was calmer than he would have thought.
The fledgeling embers of peace battled with fear in his chest, but he shoved the fear down as much as he could, then he went to open the door.
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Glenn groaned as he pried his eyes open. His entire head throbbed like he was hung-over, but even barely awake, he remembered all too well the reason he was in pain. James had hurt him, but the physical pain wasn’t anything compared to the constant ache in his chest. Glenn snorted as he scooted up until his back was against the headboard. Who’d have thought a broken heart would actually hurt like this? Even the ribs Josh had assured him were only bruised didn’t ache as bad.
It sucked, that was all there was to it. Maybe it was time for him to move on.
Hopefully James would get the help he needed from Valentina Shariva—Glenn was damned lucky she had agreed to fly down here and work with James. It was costing him a ridiculous amount of money, but what was Glenn going to do with it anyway? And at least she was giving him a discount.
He’d felt like shit, calling in a favour, but Valentina had told him if he ever needed anything at all, she’d be there, and she’d certainly come through. She’d probably have worked for free, but Glenn let her know up front he didn’t expect that and wouldn’t tolerate it. He’d met Dr Shariva when he’d headed up the case on her sister’s kidnapping. The Shariva case had a happier ending than most seemed to, with Glenn finding Maria Shariva before her abductor had done more than drug her and lock her in a cage.
He hadn’t been quick enough to save the other three women the sick fuck had killed before then, but at
least he’d got to Maria in time, and the man who’d intended to rape and torture her to death had ended up dead before he could go to trial. Seemed he’d pissed off the wrong person behind bars.
Glenn was yanked from his musings by a rapid pounding on his door that, strangely enough, matched the pounding in his head. He cursed loud enough, he hoped, to be heard over the thumping as he got up, then immediately felt bad for being such a grumpy asshole.
All the people he’d met over the last few days had been nice. It seemed like Josh had made it his personal goal to make Glenn feel welcome. Actually, Glenn got the distinct impression Josh, or more likely, Chase and Xavier, working through their friends, wanted him to hang around. Not that either Chase or Xavier wouldn’t just say so, but he also wouldn’t put it past them to try to show him he’d be welcome here. He could always call and ask them, but he didn’t think he was ready to speak to them yet. Not when he felt like someone had ripped him open and poured acid on his insides.
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“Melodramatic idiot,” Glenn mumbled, wondering when he’d become so, well, melodramatic. Forcing his thoughts in a less painful direction, he tried to guess who would be at the door. Josh had introduced him to his partner Nick, and Rory and Chance, Max and Bo, and Adam and his lovely mother Charlene, who made the best cookies Glenn had ever tasted. Adam’s partner had been working, but Glenn had heard enough stories about the man that he thought he knew exactly who was on the other side of the door when he looked through the peephole.
Except the smaller man with the mountain of a cop sure wasn’t Adam. Glenn squinted through the peephole as he examined what he could of the little guy. There was something familiar about him, and despite having just woke up and feeling like he’d been walloped with a sledge hammer, Glenn’s brain was working just fine. He unlocked the door and pulled it open almost as quickly as he reached out and grabbed the smaller man by the collar.
“What are you doing here?” Glenn growled, ignoring the cop as he thumped the private investigator up against the wall a little rougher than he’d intended. Normally Glenn thought first, considered every side, every possible outcome, then reacted. But he hadn’t done that with James, and he certainly wasn’t doing it now as he glared down at the obviously frightened man before him.
“Calm down,” the cop ordered in a deep rumbling voice. “I caught him parked outside watching your room. He’s been there for about ten hours or so as far as I know.
Figured he could just come on in and introduce himself.”
Glenn didn’t need an introduction. “Did you tell James’ parents where I am?”
The PI blinked slowly, in a way that sent a shiver of foreboding down Glenn’s spine.
The man didn’t seem the least bit intimidated. In fact, there was a look in his eyes that implied he was amused, at the very least, by Glenn’s manhandling. “Haven’t told them anything since I haven’t seen their son,” the man drawled.
Glenn’s temper ratcheted up at the man’s casual tone. He leaned in until he was practically pressed against the smaller man.
“You don’t see him here, do you?” Glenn pointed out. “So you can go back and tell Mr and Mrs Stratton that you have once again lost—” Glenn stopped, shocked by something hard and growing longer and fuller against his thigh. “What the—” Glenn moved back enough so that he could glance between them, because surely he was wrong. That couldn’t www.total-e-bound.com
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be… Shocked at the erection he saw tenting the PI’s trousers, Glenn gaped at the man.
“Hey!” He released the PI and jumped back, slamming into the big cop behind him hard enough to knock grunts from them both.
“Come on now,” the PI purred, stretching languorously, his back arching as he raised his hands over head. The move caused his hips to jut forward, showing off his bulge. His eyes narrowed as he looked Glenn up and down. “I can’t be the first man who’s appreciated your fine ass. Although, you look a bit battered. Rough night?”
Glenn glanced at the cop, confirming with a check of his nametag that he was indeed named Stanton. “Les, right?”
The cop nodded and pointed at the PI, who, Glenn was startled to see, was prowling towards him, moving sinuously, like he was half cat.
“Stop right there, Leaks.” Les snapped the words out in a deep, low voice that made Glenn want to freeze in place too, instead of backing up like he was surprised to find himself doing. “Behave or I’ll cuff you.”
The PI—Leaks—paused and arched both brows as his lips quirked into a smile. “And that’s supposed to discourage me? Two big, hot men, and me cuffed and helpless? Keep talking like that and I’ll come in my pants.” Leaks smirked and held out his hands. “Still want to cuff me?”
Les growled and pulled his cuffs off his belt. “No, I want to knock the shit out of you, but I think I’ll cuff you anyway.” He had Leaks’ wrists cuffed in a heartbeat. Despite his claim to be turned on by the cuffs, Leaks actually looked scared, the flirtatious light gone from his eyes as Les shoved him into a chair.
“Look, I was joking and went too far, I get it. Can you take these off now?” Leaks turned big pleading eyes on Les first, who seemed unmoved by him, then on Glenn.
Glenn stared hard at the PI for a moment. He thought he saw fear in hiseyes, and it could have just been that Leaks was a great actor, but Glenn wouldn’t take the risk. Besides, what was Leaks going to do, flirt with him some more? “Take them off, Les. You can leave if you want to.”
Les gave him an incredulous look but unfastened the cuffs. “I’ll stay. I don’t trust this guy.”
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Glenn wondered if Les was afraid Leaks would seduce him. Granted, Glenn was hurting, James’ violent attack was a rejection of the bluntest nature, and he might want to eventually explore the side of himself he’d kept buried, but not with someone like Leaks. The man was attractive, with his wavy chestnut hair and large blue-green eyes, and his lean frame was just the sort Glenn had always eyed surreptitiously, but there was no way he’d get involved, even for a one nighter, with someone who was hunting James.
“I can handle him,” Glenn said in the same tone of voice he’d used to lead his team.
“You don’t have to stay.”
Leaks’ eyes gleamed with a smugness that matched the smile on his lips, and Glenn frowned in response.
“Nah, I wanted to talk to you about something anyway,” Les said from behind him. “I can wait until you’re done with this guy. Adam will probably swing by in a few minutes too.”
Glenn didn’t quite bite back his groan. If Leaks pulled his flirting bullshit with Les in front of Adam, it could and most likely would get ugly.
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Chapter Twelve
“James Stratton isn’t here,” Glenn said, seeing no reason to beat around the bush.
“You’re wasting your time if you think you’ll find him by following me around.” Chances were he’d never be welcome in James’ presence again, so that wasn’t a lie either.
Leaks rolled one shoulder and sprawled in the chair beside the desk. He tipped his head down and looked through his lashes at Glenn, who couldn’t help but notice how thick and silky they looked. “Well, obviously he’s not here, but he’s somewhere close. You wouldn’t be here otherwise. You’ve obviously got it bad for the guy—bad enough to leave your job behind and stop hiding in the closet.”
Glenn kept his expression impassive as his heart lurched in his chest. Leaks had obviously done some digging since he’d ditched the PI in Montana, and Glenn realised now that he had underestimated the man. Les muttered something softly, Glenn only caught th
e word ‘handcuffs’, but he was inclined to believe Les had the right idea, whatever it was.
Leaks leaned his head back and hit Glenn with a wide-eyed knowing look.
“I wonder how you got those bruises,” he murmured, not sounding the least bit curious. “You looked hot before, you know, when you were all professionally polished, but now…that I can see everything…” he raked Glenn with a heated gaze that had his dick trying to perk up even though he didn’t like the man at all.
It’s just been too long since—well, too long. But not so long I’d touch this jerk with someone else’s dick, even. To Leaks, who was now staring openly and appreciatively at his groin, Glenn said, “Cut the games out. I’m not interested in anything you’re offering.”
“I could change your mind.”
Glenn’s patience was wearing thin. He huffed and stalked over to his suitcase, feeling Leaks’ eyes following him. His back and ass tingled, which was disconcerting to say the least, but he ignored the sensation and pulled out a pair of jeans and a wrinkled button up.
Without another word, he went into the bathroom and shut the door. He thought he heard laughter that surely wasn’t Les’—the sound was high pitched and almost musical—but with his pulse slamming in his ears like it was, he couldn’t be sure.
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