Taken by Two

by Sam J. D. Hunt

  I shook my head at him. “I don’t get it—that didn’t seem like sport to me. When they added that second guy to the ring…”

  “Oh, that group always fights dirty. That’s their thing—I knew it was coming. I wanted to play them. The gym manager, Chewy, would have stopped it otherwise. I placed a bet on myself with him before the fight.”

  “Going there was careless, I have to side with Rex on this one. I was an idiot for not listening to you when you said no to going to town, and you were an idiot for taking me,” I admitted.

  He took a small sip of his glass of wine. Despite battles with drug addiction, Nate wasn’t much of a drinker. “Well, Penny, I don’t have the best judgment. I’m rash, impulsive. Rex is good for me in that regard. He’s taught me to slow down, strategize, think. And most importantly, when you fuck up, you pull yourself back together and start again. Never stop fighting. Today was a set-back, nothing more.” I leaned back into my chair, the stars dancing overhead as the warm, wet air wrapped around me like a hug.

  “You met Rex when you took his course?” He nodded. “My dad talked to me into it—but he’s a whole other story. I’d just come out of yet another ninety-day rehab and was looking for something different. I showed up, pampered and arrogant, and ended up leaving Rex’s ‘let’s eat wild animals’ shit after the first day. I managed to hitch my way to Medellin, where it was easy to score plenty of cocaine by just signing my name. Well, it was for a day or so. When I couldn’t pay—all of my stuff was back in Rex’s airport storage—the dealers got pissed. In the back of a dank warehouse, I was given two options: pay my hefty drug bill, or they’d slowly cut me into pieces. Starting there,” he pointed grimly to his groin.

  “Oh my God,” I gasped. “What did you do?”

  “They let me make a phone call—no way in hell I was calling dear ol’ dad, so I dialed Rex’s Blackberry.” He smiled and shook his head. “Looking back now, I was lucky as fuck that it connected! The signal out there is beyond sketchy.”

  “So you called Rex and he came and rescued you?”

  “No, he hung up on me. Told me in order to survive, I needed to learn to unfuck things for myself.”

  “That’s harsh.”

  “You know by now King Rex can be harsh. Harsh and cold. But, he did send one of his buddies, one of the spook-type agents he used to work with, over with my belongings, including my wallet. The guy helped me pay off the dealers and, clueless as to what to do with me, dropped me back with Rex. By the time I got to the compound, I was already crashing from the binge. Rex locked me in the safe room—where you stayed at first—as I suffered through the pain. At some point, in the throes of delirium and hallucinations, I started screaming for ‘daddy’—I have no idea where that came from. But, for some reason, it made an impact on him. He came in and held me all night long—physically held me in a bear hug for hours because it was the only thing that would calm me down.”

  “I know why that made an impact—he told me about his father.”

  Nate gulped and nodded. “Yeah, that’s rough stuff. My own dad—I mean, he thought he was doing the right thing, but I just can’t forgive him. Rex thinks I should, but Penny—he called the cops on me! He turned me in—more than once.”

  “Tough love?”

  Nate refused to answer, and we sat there in silence as the jungle howled around us outside the secured walls. It did feel like an island here, the compound. I could see why Rex jokingly called it King Rex Island.

  “I think that’s where my physical attraction to him began—it sprang from that night, being calmed and soothed by his touch.” Nate’s voice was soft, his face shrouded in the darkness of the night. “The next day, he told me about his own father, and then said he’d never shared that with anyone before, not even his wife. We were both shocked at the connection we had, but, for some reason, the universe brought us together and we just bonded. Bonded hard.”

  “So you stayed?”

  “Sort of. I went home, did another ninety-day program. My dad tried to sue to have me deemed incompetent so he could run my business for me. That’s the last time I spoke to him. Rex is convinced he was just trying to gain control of my money so I couldn’t use, but I don’t know. I just can’t get over it. I mean, Rex runs my money for the same reason.”

  “But you made that decision, right? You asked Rex to do that?”

  “Yes—that’s the difference. Rex doesn’t make decisions for me—like he says, he doesn’t save people. He gave me the tools to save myself—or at least try to. I’m still working on it, but I’ll get there.”

  “So your dad talked you into coming back to Colombia?”

  “No! He actually bitched and moaned about Rex running a course for addicts in a place where drugs are rampant. He wanted to sue Rex for my binge.” He shook his head and sighed, “Penny, drugs are rampant everywhere. There’s no place in the world I can’t score cocaine—I’ve even done it in rehab. I came back on my own, and did my week in the jungle—and discovered for the first time that I am strong. I can conquer my demons. I don’t need anyone to rescue me, and not even addiction can hold me down.”

  I smiled. That was exactly the life-changing experience I had during my brief stay with Rex in the jungle.

  “I did the course, and rocked it. I even went back for a few of his advanced ones. I didn’t want to go back to an office in Silicon Valley after fighting for my survival in the Amazon—I set it up so I could stay here, with Rex, and disappear from public life. All the parties, women, events—it all just seemed so shallow and pointless after being here.”

  I understood exactly what he meant. “Your father knows you’re here?”

  He nodded. “Yeah—and he doesn’t give me any grief since I’ve stayed clean. He conceded to Rex a few months ago that Colombia is best for me. I don’t know—they talk or whatever, but I still won’t.”

  “So you’ve been clean ever since the binge?”

  He chuckled, running his long index finger along the rim of his glass. “I’ve had a few setbacks…but I’ll make it.”

  “I’ve been happy here, but something was missing,” he continued. “The whole platonic thing left me craving intimacy. After his wife left, Rex didn’t want to be with anyone. I, however, wasn’t going to be sexless for long. I tried hooking up a few times, but it felt empty to me. I really wanted to be with him, but he was never going to feel the same. He tried to give me affection as he could bring himself to, to make me happy, but until we found you, I was restless, lonely. I love him, and I love you, Penny. You complete the circle—loving you makes us complete.”

  “You never even asked me out before…I’m not sure we ever even spoke to each other?”

  “No, but I always felt a chemistry with you—like you were a kindred spirit. Which, of course, I avoided. I suspect you did, too. But when I heard you were in danger, it clicked. I knew you had to be with us.”

  “Except, now Rex hates me.” My heart hurt at the thought of him being disappointed in me.

  “He doesn’t,” Nate said with finality.

  The next day, I waited for Rex’s return like an errant child waiting for dad to get home from work. Nate, however, was calm about it. “We’ll take our lumps and move on,” was his advice to me as we cuddled in his warm bed that morning. “What if he makes me go,” I worried. His blue eyes softened as his fingertips ran across my chin. “That won’t happen, babe. It’ll work out.”

  Rex blew in like a hurricane at three that afternoon—an angry hurricane. He dropped his gear, leaving it for Maria and the driver to clean and put away. Ignoring me, chasing after him apologizing, and Nate, who quietly sat in a chair reading, he stormed into his office and slammed the door. “I guess he’s still a tad bit peeved,” Nate joked with a raised eyebrow.

  I did the administrative work for Rex’s business, and I had plenty of reasons to be in his office. “I have work to do in there,” I said out loud to no one in particular. But, he’d locked the door, and didn’t answer m
y incessant knocking. “Give him time, Pen,” Nate said from the corner. “Let’s go work on your fighting skills—but go easy on my stitched up face.”

  Rex never emerged from the cocoon of his office, and once again Nate and I had dinner together, without him. Maria took Rex’s meal to him on a tray. Later that evening, I leaned against Nate’s firm chest in his giant porcelain egg shaped tub, surrounded by luxurious bubbles. “Why don’t you go to him, Pen? Put on that green gown—I always give him space, maybe your way is different.”

  I thought about what he said. “I’ll try.”

  “But wash off the eyeliner first,” Nate teased.

  It was nearly eleven before I gathered the courage to make Rex acknowledge me. I rapped on his door, nothing. I tapped again, drumming my fingers on the wood in a lively tune until he roared, “Go away!”

  “I’m not leaving. In fact, I’m about to start singing Taylor Swift songs, followed by your favorite, Justin—”

  The door flung open, my fingers left waving in mid-air.

  “Stop,” he said. He stood in front of me, a billowy linen shirt over his tanned skin, unbuttoned so that the muscles of his torso and the dusting of golden hair along his ribs and down from his navel distracted me. His hair was messy, flopping over his forehead. He punched his hands into the pockets of his favorite worn, ripped jeans that ended above his bare feet. “I can’t take it anymore,” I begged, my voice barely above a whisper. “Sit,” he said, pointing to the edge of his bed.

  I walked past him and perched on the edge of his king-sized bed as he locked the door. Rex knelt in front of me, his eyes looking into mine. “Are you going to make me leave?” I asked when he said nothing.

  “No.”

  “I’m so sorry—I made a mistake. It was me, though. I talked Nate into it. I will never disobey you again.”

  “Nate’s easy to talk into mischief. He knew better than to take you out. I’m mad at him, crazy mad, but nobody is going anywhere.” I took a deep breath in relief.

  “But you, Penny, all I can think about is what if something happened to you. There are people who want you dead. You’ve become…I mean, to me you are…” He abandoned words and wrapped me in his strong embrace, holding me tight against his chest. I clung to him, never wanting him to let me go. “I’m sorry, Rex. I-I’ll do better, I swear. I love you so much…”

  He pulled back sharply and stared at me. “Penny, I’m not the kind of man you should love, I—”

  “But I do. Nate does, and I do. I’m in love with both of you.”

  “Shit, Princess, you’ve captured me wholly. The two of you…I’m yours…”

  The tough man inside fought the mist of tears that threatened to break his cold exterior. I pulled him closer to me, my arms clawing at him until he pulled us both into his bed. I couldn’t get close enough to him. I looked around his room—I’d never been in there before, we all usually slept in Nate’s room. The décor was almost identical to his office—deep brown leathers, dark mahogany woods, and survival equipment lining the walls. His bed was simple—comfortable linens in ivory and chocolate colors.

  “The thought of losing you wrecks me, baby.” His lips found mine, the kiss so soft, so loving, it barely seemed the Rex I’d come to know. Gentle touches pulled down the silk straps of the silky gown, his warm lips delicately toying with a breast before moving down. For the first time, he made love to me—his eyes on mine, his caresses gentle, and his thrusts slow and lingering. We were together like that for hours—the cervix-bruising man who left my lips swollen, my nipples throbbing, and my pussy aching was temporarily replaced by the Rex who wanted to show me how much he cared for me, despite not being able to say the words.

  Still inside of me, his heavy body on top of mine as I dozed off to an exhausted sleep, he said the words I didn’t expect to ever hear from him: I love you.

  I woke up sometime later, his naked body lifting mine in his powerful arms. “What’s wrong?” I yawned. “Nothing, Princess, everything is right.” He carried me half-asleep across the house to Nate’s room, pushing the door open with his foot. Nate was awake—sitting in a chair with his head in his hands. When he saw us, the veil of confusion clouded his sad expression. “Something was missing,” Rex said to him, laying me down gently in the middle of Nate’s sprawling bed. “Someone was missing, come to bed,” Rex said, reaching a hand out to Nate.

  The terror of what could have been faded that night as we embraced what was—the breathtaking splendor of three people finding each other in the blackness of the universe. I faded to sleep nestled between the two men who meant the world to me—the two men I loved more than anything.

  The next morning, we were a tangle of limbs who’d spent the night fighting for Nate’s covers. Rex and Nate were fast asleep, but I had to pee. Rex’s heavy leg, one of the few places on his body that wasn’t tattooed, rested across mine. The sleeping Nate’s leg was across me from the other side, butted up against Rex’s in peaceful cohabitation. If I had a camera, I would have taken a picture of the three of us intertwined physically and emotionally—it was a beautiful thing.

  Chapter Seven

  “Well, Princess, how do you feel about sucking chest wounds?” Rex asked over breakfast, his eyes never leaving his morning paper.

  “Um, excuse me?” I blurted out, the mouthful of eggs I was chewing suddenly not so appealing.

  “Oh,” he glanced up, reaching for his mug of strong, black coffee. “I meant some medical training—simple stuff, first aid type of thing. Out here, you’re often not close to a good doctor. It’s part of teaching you to thrive here with us.”

  “Personally, I try to stay very close to a good doctor…” Nate piped in from his perch on the leather stool next to me, his lopsided grin fading as Rex glared at him.

  “Good? I’m fucking great. But seriously, Penny, we need to give you the tools to really take care of yourself. No more floating through life on auto-pilot.”

  “Got it, but can we talk about sucking wounds after breakfast?”

  Nate’s grin returned, as he quipped, “I wouldn’t mind some sucking after breakfast.” Maria shot him a sharp glare and cleared her throat. “Sorry,” Nate apologized. “You Catholics are so uptight…”

  “I’m not Catholic,” I answered.

  “King Rex is.”

  I thought back to his tattoos—the Virgin Mary, the cross at the very center of his chest, over his heart… “Can we give this topic a rest?” Rex’s deep voice scolded from behind his newspaper.

  Before I’d even had time to digest my eggs, my diligent men had me outside the compound, near where we usually did target practice. “Why out here?” I whined, “It’s so sticky and hot—I can learn first aid in the air conditioning!”

  Rex sighed as Nate rolled his eyes at me. I was prone to complaining, but after I got a whine or two out of my system, I did usually focus on the lesson they were trying to teach me. “Outside is most likely where you’ll find yourself, or someone else, injured with no access to medical care. Now, I don’t have dummies or anything to practice on, so I brought out this dummy.” Laughing at his own joke, he pointed to Nate. Rex rarely tried to be funny, but occasionally when he did he found himself far more humorous than anyone else.

  “Okay,” he continued, irritated that no one laughed at his dummy joke but him, “with a bullet wound, you want to do three things quickly—stop the bleeding, treat any symptoms of shock, and keep the patient breathing.”

  He pointed to the ground, indicating where he wanted Nate to pretend to be shot.

  “Always, always, have your first aid kit with you. Never leave this compound without the backpack we put together the other day.”

  “Yes, sir,” I agreed.

  “So, the first order of business is stopping the bleeding as quickly as possible. Most gunshot victims die from bleeding out. The best way is with pressure and a clotting agent. In your bag, you have both Celox and a Quick Clot pack. For a big wound,” he knelt down next to Nate, wh
o was playing dead, and reached to unbutton his shirt. Nate, always a clown, emitted a long, erotic moan. Rex ignored him, and pulled open his shirt, marking a large circle on Nate’s perfectly toned chest with a Sharpie. “What the fuck Chuck!” Nate sat up, looking down at his chest. “That’s the bullet wound, unless you’d rather I give you a real one for her to learn on?”

  “You couldn’t use something washable? I work hard on these washboard abs!” Nate was rubbing at the impervious marker imprint.

  “You could use some ink on that virgin, pasty chest. Washboard abs?” Rex lifted his black t-shirt and pointed at his own ripped torso. “These are fucking washboard abs and, at my age, I have to work twice as hard to get them!”

  “Can we finish this please? I’m sweating.” I’d had enough of the male pissing contests that always seemed to erupt.

  Nate flopped back into the thick grass in a pout as Rex continued drawing the imaginary bullet wound on his skin.

  “First thing, stuff that bleeding mother fucker with the clotting pad, then do antibiotic gel where you can, like this,” he demonstrated on the imaginary wound, “followed by pressure. I mean hard pressure.”

  I knelt on the spongy grass next to Rex, making mental note of the order of steps.

  “After the blood is stopped, you apply the pressure bandage. You don’t want to just bandage up a gushing wound—the patient can bleed out and you won’t notice because of the bandage. And don’t go fishing around for the bullet like in the movies—stop the blood, get it sanitary, and wrap that sucker up.”

  I nodded. With Nate playing dead on the ground, the lesson seemed too real—my joking turned to serious attentiveness.

  “Pressure bandage,” he pulled one out of my backpack, “will aid in stopping the bleeding only if it’s applied tight enough. It’s key that the pressure be strong enough to fully stop the bleeding while the clot pack does its job. Make sense?”

  I nodded, unwrapping the bandage.