by J. M. Dabney
He was jerked from his musings when Gage opened the door for him. He got out and smoothed his gray suit, adjusted his new yellow bow tie. He knew his man would love it. It made his man blissful, and it was such a small thing. Harmon didn’t demand much for himself, to be touched and kissed, held and cuddled. Harmon didn’t seem to require more than that.
“Dr. Carrington, I presume.” Peaches’ voice was cold and professional.
“Yes, I believe I’m at a disadvantage.”
“This is my associate, Hayden Gage, and my client, Solomon Poe. I’m Veronica Phelps.”
“I believe you told my guard that Mr. Poe was the husband of a patient of mine.”
“It’s an odd situation. They’ve been separated due to Mr. Little’s mental state for a few years, but Mr. Poe’s husband never goes without making contact with him.”
“Clinic policy is our patients aren’t allowed visitors while they go through the detox process. Which I’m sure you’re aware can be a rather tiring and sometimes dangerous procedure.”
“Mr. Little didn’t inform his husband that he’d be admitting himself to a facility.”
“Is that a fact, Mr. Poe?”
“Yes, Harmon and I have an understanding. I love him very much, and while he works through his…issues, I only require he make contact.”
“He’s at a delicate stage of his treatment. As his physician I—”
Peaches cut the man off with a cheery smile, and he was amazed at how calm she was. Over the last few days as they planned how they’d go about getting into see Harmon, he’d seen her flashes of temper. Her Mama Bear attitude when she went toe-to-toe with men who looked scarier than her. He’d felt sorry for Linus and Gage, even Livingston a few times.
“I respect your professional opinion, but we secured a court order. As my associate mentioned to the guard at the gate, we can contact the local authorities. We’d prefer not to bring attention to the matter. Mr. Poe would simply like to spend a few minutes with his husband to make sure he’s okay and wants to be here. Mr. Poe is hoping they can reconcile once Mr. Little is released.”
“Very well, but as I’ve examined and talked to Mr. Little at length. I believe his stay here will be beneficial to his long-term health both mental and physical.”
He gritted his teeth to avoid calling the man a liar. There was nothing wrong with his man. To him, Harmon was perfect just the way he was and that bastard talking about—he ordered himself to calm down and take deep breaths. He couldn’t mess this up. They needed to see Harmon.
“Why don’t you come in and I’ll have one of my assistants get you some refreshments. We’ll get Mr. Little moved to a private visiting room.”
“As I am Mr. Little’s attorney along with Mr. Poe, I require that any monitoring be turned off during the visit. Even though we’re here to make sure Mr. Little is okay, there’s a few legal matters that we need to discuss as well.”
“As you wish, but with Mr. Little’s volatile nature, I believe it—”
“Mr. Gage is also my private security. He’s more than capable of handling Mr. Little. As I said, client-attorney confidentiality is paramount.”
He knew Peaches had a signal jammer in her purse that would ensure their meeting was private, but by Carrington’s reaction, he didn’t like the fact he wouldn’t get to listen in. They knew he was hiding something. He knew they had enough evidence to prove it.
Everything seemed to move in slow motion as they were set up in a room with coffee and tea. He’d requested a bottle of apple juice for Harmon. He laced his fingers as he waited on an uncomfortable wooden chair. The walls were stark white and the afternoon sun blazed through a single, small window.
He’d studied the place as Carrington had led them through the facility to the room. It looked very upscale. Hotel-esque with a hint of a spa retreat. He’d never seen that many diamonds in his life. Most of them were dressed in fancy yet casual clothes. He didn’t notice one patient who didn’t look like someone he’d meet at one of his parents’ parties. It was all for show. Probably to mask the horrors of what really happened there.
He surged to his feet and spun toward the door as soon as he heard the knob turn. His eyes filled with tears. Harmon’s face was drawn and ashen, he seemed thinner. His hands clenched at his sides until the orderly seated Harmon and backed out of the room.
The orderly said he’d be right outside and then they were left alone. He rushed forward, and Harmon didn’t even look at him.
“Baby.” His voice broke as he took Harmon’s face into his hands. The man’s beard was thick and scraggly, his hair growing out.
“What the fuck did they do? It’s been seven fucking days!” Gage was enraged, but he ignored the man.
Harmon didn’t acknowledge them, and he glanced over his shoulder to see Peaches covering her mouth, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Harmon.” He kissed Harmon’s dry, cracked lips. There wasn’t a response. Harmon always responded to affection. “Baby, you’re worrying me.”
Harmon’s green eyes were dull and lifeless as if his man wasn’t in there. What did they do to his man?
Was Any of It Real?
“I told you I loved you just for a fuck, man.”
“Who could want a thing like you?”
“You weren’t worth the fifty, kid.”
“Mama, mama. Take me with you.”
Each word pierced his skull with blinding pain. A breeze across his skin was like he was on fire. He was an atheist, but at that moment he believed in Hell. He categorized everything. Took stock of toes, fingers, limbs, counted every breath as he tried to pull himself back from the edge. He didn’t know what they’d given him.
He’d awakened strapped to a cot in a windowless room. The mustiness of mold and sharpness of antiseptic burned his nose as his brain slowly cleared. He had fought against the restraints until he realized it was futile. Then he’d taken an inventory of the room which didn’t take long. His bag was missing, and the only furniture in the room was the cot.
The mystery injections started not long after he came to and then the interrogations followed. Questions to check did he know what year it was or what was his first memory. How did he feel? Was he experiencing hallucinations? Was it a repeat of the same questions to make sure his answers matched? To make sure they weren’t frying the last of his brain cells.
He closed his eyes and tried to push away the evil shit filling his head. Poe. His man’s soft lips brushing against his cheek to wake him in the mornings. The curve of Poe’s smile against his skin.
“You’re going to get tired of me being here every morning.”
He combed his fingers through Poe’s silky hair. “Never happen.”
“Have I told you how happy I am you ran into me?”
“Maybe, I can’t remember. Refresh my memory.”
He jerked as the sting of another needle forced him away from his happy place. He felt outside himself. Disconnected and numb. He couldn’t even bring himself to fight as he felt the restraints loosen and he was pulled to his feet. His body moved involuntarily. Taking the lead from the person holding his arm. His eyes stung from the brightness as he was led up a set of stairs. When had he seen sunlight last? How long had he been locked up?
Time stood still. Passing only in a repetition of injections and questionings.
His body felt so heavy, and he could barely keep his eyes open. He just wanted to go to sleep and dream of Poe. Have his man love on him one more time. He feared he wasn’t going to make it out. How long would his team wait to rescue him and would he still be him when it happened?
He was pushed down into a chair, and he prepared himself to answer the same set of questions, wondering if his answers would be the same or had they finally turned his brain to mush.
Soft, gentle hands touched his face—Poe’s hands. Then he heard the sweetest sound—Poe’s voice. If only it was real and not a product of his drugged mind.
“Baby.”
&nb
sp; Poe’s voice broke. He didn’t like when his man was sad. Poe should always be perky and smiling.
“What the fuck did they do? It’s been seven fucking days?”
What was Gage doing in his hallucination? He only wanted Poe. Poe made him safe.
“Harmon.”
Poe’s plump lips touched his so tenderly, but he couldn’t respond. His body wouldn’t listen to him. He loved Poe’s kisses, and his man did it a lot. Quick ones in passing or while he worked. Then there were the ones Poe gave him while they lay in bed or curled up on the couch. He held onto the memories of Poe filling him as his man whispered loving words in his ear. He wanted to go home to Poe. He didn’t want to be there anymore.
“Baby, you’re worrying me.”
He jerked as arms wrapped around his neck and he felt himself flinch.
“Harmon Little, you never flinch from me. Do you understand me?”
Oh shit, his Poe was mad at him.
He opened his mouth to say he was sorry, but nothing came out. He clenched his hands on his thighs, and then the familiar weight of Poe crawled onto his lap. Warm puffs of air teased his ear.
“Baby, our bed isn’t the same without you in it with me.”
He missed Poe’s cuddles. He needed this to be real. He needed his man with him and forced heavy eyelids open, the flash of blinding light sent agony through his head. His brow furrowed and he tried again. His vision was nothing more than floating halos; then it began to clear. What he saw was distorted by double vision. First, he saw Gage ringed in a bright aura. Next was Peaches and tears shimmered like diamonds on her cheeks.
“Little, you with us, man?”
Gage’s face turned into a blur as the man leaned in close. He didn’t like the roughness of Gage’s hands on his face and the tug of the man’s thumbs just under his eyes. It forced his eyes open more than the slit he was using to block out the brightness of the room. He jerked his head back and finally Poe’s beautiful face came into focus.
“Raul’s been checking out your boy.”
“Are you trying to piss him off?” Peaches asked with a groan. “A pissed off Little isn’t exactly sane.”
“When is Little sane?”
“Could you not talk about my man like he isn’t here?”
My man. He’d never get tired of hearing that even if right then was nothing more than a dream.
“I’m trying to piss him off. A bit of adrenaline to clear his head. He’s way too calm. Hey, Little, ever thought about sharing your boy. I bet he’d be so pretty collared and on his—”
He felt the give of flesh and tendons beneath the strength of his grip. The world was still out of focus, but rage drove some of that away. Poe was his. No one would take him away.
Gage gurgled and rasped as the man tried to breathe with his hand around his throat.
“Mine.” The words rasped almost painfully up his throat.
“All yours, big man.”
He relaxed as Poe soothed him with words and touches, the things he’d missed. How long had he been away? Panic tightened his chest as he felt it all begin to drift away.
“Hey, baby, stay with me, look me in the eyes, handsome.”
He obeyed the order and stared right into pretty eyes hidden behind the cute thick-framed glasses. His mouth pulled up at the corners as he pictured the way Poe squinted when he took them off. His man couldn’t see shit.
“I want to go home.”
“I know, and I want you home. What did they do to you?”
His mind didn’t want to function, and his head hurt the more he tried to force it.
“Shots. Lots of shots. My body on fire. So hard to stay present.”
“It’s okay. You’ll be coming home. You need a shave and a haircut…you’re all scruffy. Well, maybe, it’s sexy as fuck.”
Part of him knew what Poe was doing. His man attempted to keep him grounded which was exactly what the man had done since they met. He was lost without Poe. He was safe and loved, he wanted to hear his man tell him, but Poe hadn’t said it yet. Was Poe just temporary?
The sharp agony of fear dragged him closer to the abyss where he’d fall again. He didn’t want to plunge into the darkness again. He could feel the specter of the razor again. The one he’d slowly stroked over his forearms years ago. The marks were hidden under the dark ink that covered his arms wrists to shoulders. He didn’t tell anyone about those. Hadn’t even told Poe because he didn’t want his man to look at him differently.
If Poe knew just how fucked-up he was, then the man he loved wouldn’t stay. Poe was like Lily, they made everything better and let him stay in the present where he wasn’t mired by the past. His past didn’t matter. His impulse control bullshit didn’t matter.
“Little, you gotta look at me,” Gage’s order snapped him to attention. “We’re going to have to leave you.”
“No, I want to go—”
“I know, man, you want to go home, and that’s exactly where you’re going, but I have to call in the team. Tell me how many paces from here to where your room is? Were there stairs? How many paces from the stairs is your room? We need this information, and we need it now.”
He threw his head forward as Gage slapped his face. If he were in control, he would’ve broken the bastard’s nose. He closed his eyes, dug through the dark and tried to retrace his steps. He played the scene in reverse, but he couldn’t be sure. What if the information was all a figment of his imagination? Maybe this meeting— “You’re fading on me.” Gage guttural voice hit him hard.
He relayed the information as clearly as he could. It could be off, but all they needed was a general idea of where he was kept.
“I don’t care what you have to do, Little, you be ready to fight or run. You have a man to go home to, do you understand me?”
“Yes, sir.”
“We gotta go, I can’t contact the team from in here. Remember, survive at all costs.”
He knew leaving a man behind for Gage was the worst failure a leader could experience.
“Harmon, Lily sent a present for you, but you don’t get it until you come home.”
“I just want you. Please don’t leave me.”
“Baby, I’ll be waiting, promise me you’ll fight.”
Emotion closed down his throat, and he couldn’t speak; all his body would allow was him hiding his face against the side of Poe’s neck.
“Come on, Harmon, let Poe go, you’ll see him soon. I promise.”
He started to sob as Peaches’ arms joined Poe’s around him. He held onto them tight even as they pulled away. The tears flowed down his cheeks, but he didn’t care. They were leaving him just like everyone left.
“Harmon Little, I love you, and I will say that in a more romantic setting soon. You have to get home to me, remember?”
He had stopped breathing at the word love and terror took over. Poe’s I love you collided with the past ones. The pretty lies whispered in tones that hid the falsehood of them. But Poe didn’t want anything from him. He didn’t demand sex. Poe had held him as they fell asleep more than they’d fucked.
“Harmon, stay with me.”
“Yes, Poe.” He opened his mouth to say it, but Poe’s lips were pressed to his.
“You say it when your head is clear.”
Poe held his face in his small hands, and he held tight to Poe’s wrists. He fought Gage when the man tried to pull Poe away from him, but then the strange cologne mixed with cigarette smoke he remembered from the orderly overwhelmed him. He’d promised to fight, but how long could he hold off the next needle?
He was weak and confused by the drugs, and he felt as if he’d lost weight. He could fight. He’d get home. He refused to die in that fucking windowless room.
They Needed to Get His Man Out Now
The few hours that he’d slept was filled with nightmares of Harmon broken and alone. The entire Trenton team along with a few strange faces filled a cramped motel room. They had Gibson, the Powers Fire Chief, who had m
edic training, on hand for any emergencies. Then there were two scary men named Horace and Freddie who looked as if they’d just escaped from a mental ward or prison, maybe both. He didn’t think they should be in possession of firearms. Gage called in a friend of his, Alex, and the man was wearing a suit that screamed money.
Alex was all polished and elegant, a blond Adonis Daddy with silver-streaked hair among the sea of heathens in black tactical gear.
He didn’t know half the stuff they were talking about. He could figure out most of it, though. Once the operation went down, Pelter and Peaches would handle local law enforcement.
“You doing okay, Poe?”
Hunter sat down beside him in one of the stained chairs. The place looked like it should come with a dose of antibiotics along with the key to get into the room.
“He looked so bad.” His man was strong and most of the time had a smile on his face. When Harmon had said he wanted to go home, he’d wanted to bundle his man up right then. It hadn’t sat well with him when they’d left him behind. Gage explained they didn’t know what kind of security the clinic had. It turned out that the clinic had a crew of ex-special forces who took care of problems. He still didn’t know how they were going to get Harmon out.
“From what Gage told us, he looked dehydrated and underfed.”
“Gage said he needed to be ready to fight. He could barely lift his arms.”
“Little knows his job. Instinct will kick in, and he’ll know what to do,” Hunter said.
The rational side of him told him that these men were far more experienced at this sort of thing than he was. Although, the other part was terrified that everything would go wrong. That the last time he’d see his man breathing was in that tiny visiting room.
