Dangerous Games

by Claire Thompson

  Reese covered his face with his hands, willing himself back into control. He looked across the table at Julio, who was regarding him with a gentle understanding and compassion that surprised him.

  “I was a coward, Julio,” Reese admitted brokenly. “I thought if I didn’t say anything about the stupid bet, it would go away. I wanted to be a new man—a good man. But Hank was determined to ruin it. He’s broken, and he’s only happy when everyone else around him is broken too. I know that, now. But it’s too late. It’s too late…”

  Julio’s large, dark eyes were troubled. “Mr. Hank can be a very bad man. I am understanding this better now.” He looked thoughtful. “Maybe he is at your place. He said something about going to see you today.”

  Reese jumped up from the table, the cookies and milk untouched. “That bastard. I’m going to have it out with him. I’m done letting him control my life.”

  “Be careful, Mr. Reese. Mr. Hank is a powerful man.”

  “Mr. Hank is a bully,” Reese retorted. “It’s about time I stood up to him.”

  “Sí,” Julio said fervently, startling Reese with his vehemence as he slammed the table for emphasis. “Estoy de acuerdo. It’s time someone did.”

  As Reese drove toward his own apartment, he muttered furiously to himself. It was easier to nurse his anger at Hank than to give in to the devastating sadness and guilt over how he’d hurt Luca. Even if Hank were waiting to apologize, Reese would never forgive him.

  When he arrived at his apartment building, sure enough, Hank’s Mercedes was parked in one of the visitor spots in front of the building. Hank was leaning casually against the hood, doing something on his cell phone. He looked up as Reese approached him and offered a lazy smile.

  “Hey there, boy. I’ve been waiting for you. I’ve had time to think things through, and I’ve decided to forgive you. I took matters into my own hands and set the record straight with your little geek. You’re free to come back to me now.”

  Rage warred with incredulity in Reese’s gut. His fist rose of its own accord, aimed for Hank’s smug jaw.

  But Hank, always quick on his feet, swerved and ducked away, leaving Reese to stumble forward into the hood of Hank’s car, his hand flailing wide.

  “Whoa,” Hank said, laughing. “What kind of thank-you is that? I freed you from that clingy little nerd. We’ll go up to your place now and you can thank me properly.”

  Reese gawked at Hank, stunned anew by the man’s sheer gall.

  Hank shook his head and offered a sardonic smile. “It had to be done, Reese. You were making a total fool of yourself. You’ve forgotten everything I’ve taught you. You started to think the game we were playing with that boy was real. I had to snap you back to reality, and the best way to do that was to tell the so-called object of your desire just exactly who he was actually dealing with. I did it for your own good, Reese. I did it for us. You’ll thank me in time.”

  “There is no us, Hank,” Reese spat. “Not even as friends. You’ve made damn sure of that.”

  Hank chuckled again, but Reese saw the sudden fear in his eyes. Was he finally getting the message? “Calm down,” Hank said placatingly. “Trust me. I did what I had to do. And I’m not even going to insist that you fulfill the terms of the bet that you lost, fair and square. Instead, I’m going to take you to Paris. We’ll stay in that bed and breakfast you liked so much in Ile de la Cité. I’ll make you forget that little nerd ever existed. I promise.”

  Reese shook his head in disgust. “You just don’t get it, do you? Everything is and always has been about you. You didn’t do this for me, you fucking bastard. You did it to make sure I remained alone so you could continue to claim me as your personal property. Not because you love me—because you don’t even know what the fucking word means—but to save you from being alone.” He blew out a breath. “Well, you really fucked it up this time, Hank. Because I’ll never forgive you for this. Never.”

  Hank’s mouth had fallen open, his face contorting with rage. “Why, you ungrateful little—”

  “Go to hell,” Reese countered, cutting him off.

  He stormed away, striding quickly toward his apartment building, anger propelling him forward. He took the stairs two and three at a time, but no matter how fast he moved, he couldn’t get away from himself. He burst into his tiny apartment and collapsed onto the sofa, dropping his head into his hands.

  “Oh, Luca,” he breathed, sorrow overtaking the rage as he left Hank behind. “I’m so, so sorry. Will you ever be able to forgive me?”

  Chapter 15

  Luca groaned as he opened eyes sticky with grit. His mouth tasted like sour cotton. The weight of Reese’s betrayal made his limbs feel as if they were made of lead. His heart had vanished from his chest, leaving a gaping hole.

  A pale, lavender light was coming through the window, the sun not yet up above the mountains. He was sprawled on the couch, still in his clothes from the day before. There was an overturned whiskey bottle on the floor nearby. Fortunately, he’d apparently had the wherewithal to screw the cap back on before falling into his drunken stupor.

  He picked up the bottle, which was more than half empty, and looked at the label—a single malt something or other. He wasn’t used to drinking hard liquor. It had been a gift from Tom the Christmas before they’d broken up. He barely remembered his decision to drink himself into a coma after Reese had come pounding on the door.

  He sat up slowly, running his hands over his face and through his tangled hair. His head was pounding. The horrible events of the day before came roaring back into his brain like an out of control freight train.

  Now that the blinders of infatuation had been ripped from Luca’s eyes, he could hardly believe he’d fallen for Reese’s bullshit so hard and for so long. That creep, Hank, had done him a favor. How much longer would he have gone on, the secret butt of their twisted, cruel joke? How many other pathetic guys had the two of them preyed on for their sick amusement?

  “It’s a little game we like to play, Reese and I. We’ve done it dozens of times over the years. We pick someone—someone at random—and we make a bet about how long it will take to seduce that person… He always comes back home to me once he’s made the conquest. In your case, I really had to sweeten the pot, since, no offense, the idea of seducing the office geek was less than appealing to poor Reese. But for ten thousand dollars, my boy would probably fuck a goat…”

  The humiliation of it nearly suffocated Luca. Reese definitely deserved an academy award for his acting ability. For the first time in his life, Luca had felt genuinely loved by another human being, though they’d yet to say those precise words to one another. And the BDSM exploration had been breathtaking, at least for him. He’d been so excited to discover his latent abilities as a Dom, and Reese’s reactions had seemed so real.

  Had Reese been faking all of it? Was Luca really so clueless that he couldn’t distinguish genuine feeling from casual, callous games?

  The irony was, he had known Reese was a player from the start, but he’d ignored his own instincts. Shit, Reese had even admitted it. He’d confessed to lying when he’d claimed a broken heart because of a made-up guy named Aidan. And stupid Luca had forgiven him on the spot. Ha. You had to have a heart for it to break. If only he’d listened to his gut, instead of letting Reese’s false but earnest charm persuade him otherwise.

  He pushed himself to his feet and went into the bathroom. Stripping off his clothes, he turned on the shower. As he waited for it to heat up, he brushed his teeth. Pulling a bottle of ibuprofen from the medicine cabinet, he swallowed three with some water. Refilling the glass to the brim, he drank it down.

  He stood for a long time under the shower’s spray, numb and aching. When he finally climbed out, he wrapped a towel around his waist and went in search of his cell phone. There were twenty-seven texts from Reese. He deleted them all, unread.

  No way he could even think about going into the office today. Reese might be there, looking perfect in hi
s GQ clothing, that beautiful, fake smile on his lying son-of-a-bitch face.

  Robert was always bugging him to take some time off. He had weeks and weeks of unused vacation time. Moving to his laptop, he booted it up and typed a quick email to Robert.

  Hi, boss. Something’s come up. I’m going to need to take a few days off to travel up to Boston. I’ll keep working on my various projects remotely. I’ll check email regularly in case there are any fires you need put out. Thanks, Luca

  He hadn’t been back to his old stomping grounds since he’d moved to Colorado the year before. He’d go up to Cambridge, see some old friends and try to clear his head. Maybe he’d even check out a few of the BDSM clubs there. Even if Reese had been faking everything else, their BDSM play had been real and powerful. Luca was going to continue to explore that on his own. Maybe there was an authentic submissive out there just waiting to be claimed by a Dom like Luca.

  The awful thing was, he didn’t want anyone else.

  He wanted Reese.

  “But the Reese you want doesn’t exist,” he said sadly into the empty room. “He was nothing but a dream…”

  ~*~

  Reese bolted upright in his bed, his heart pounding. He looked around wildly, taking several seconds to understand he’d been having a nightmare and was now awake. It had felt so real. He’d been standing on railroad tracks, unable to lift his feet even though a train sped toward him, its piercing whistle blowing. Luca had been standing nearby, holding out his hand, screaming for Reese to get off the tracks, tears rolling down his cheeks. Though he couldn’t see the conductor controlling the speeding train, he knew in the dream it was Hank. He tried desperately to move, but his legs refused to cooperate.

  He’d awoken at the moment of impact, just as the train slammed into him, knocking the life from his body. “It wasn’t real,” he said aloud. “Just a stupid nightmare.”

  He grabbed his phone on the off chance that Luca had relented and replied to one of his many texts, but they all still said delivered, not read. With a deep sigh, he set the phone down and forced himself up and out of bed.

  He’d spent an agonizing night, alternating between rage at Hank and fury at himself. He recalled a therapist he’d been forced to see for a while during one foster placement when he had been especially acting out, vandalizing school property and shoplifting. The guy had been one of those “tell it like it is” kind of guys who didn’t sugarcoat things just because you were a kid. Reese had actually respected the guy, though he’d been too stupid and rebellious at the time to actually allow him to help. But one thing the guy had said had always stuck with him. “If you want to stop feeling like an asshole, stop acting like an asshole. It’s that simple.”

  The terrible irony now was that he’d actually stopped a lot of the destructive, thoughtless behavior he’d engaged in as a matter of course with Hank. For the first time in his life, he’d expressed genuine feelings. He’d allowed himself to be vulnerable.

  But he hadn’t been entirely honest. That stupid bet had been the elephant in the room, planted smack between Luca and himself, even if Luca was unaware of its existence. By not coming clean about the bet—by not trusting Luca with the truth—he’d left Hank with a powerful weapon. And Hank had taken full advantage, determined to destroy everything in his path if he couldn’t have his way.

  Reese’s impulse was to call in sick. How could he bear to face Luca? Would Luca be holed up in his corner, head down, intent on continuing to ignore Reese? It was going to be incredibly awkward, at the very least. Who was he kidding? It would be pure hell. He never should have gotten involved with someone he worked with. He’d known that from the beginning, but greed had propelled him forward. And then he’d fallen, headlong and without defenses, into love…

  “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” he muttered angrily. He wanted to keep the fires of his fury at Hank stoked, but it was himself he had to blame.

  He moved mechanically through his morning routine, showering, shaving and making coffee in his kitchenette. Maybe if he gave Luca another day to cool off, he’d listen to reason and give Reese a chance to explain. But whether or not Luca was there, he had to go in. He couldn’t hide out in his apartment. It would just make him more miserable.

  Not to mention, things were just starting to come together at Strata, and he couldn’t risk dropping the ball right now. Both new calls in Austin had gone really well.

  It was hard to believe that less than a day ago, he’d been on top of the world, deliriously happy in his personal life, confident in his professional life. He’d killed on the presentations, his genuine enthusiasm for the company’s products shining through. Both potential clients had signed on, giving him the specs on projects they were working on and inviting him back to help put things in place. He’d been so excited, imagining that he’d take Luca with him on the next trip to Austin so they would have a face to put with a name of the expert who would do their actual coding. He’d fantasized about staying in a little bed and breakfast with Luca and checking out the thriving gay BDSM scene in Austin at night after their work was done.

  He dressed for work, keeping his cell phone at hand just in case Luca relented and sent a text. Unable to help himself, he sent yet another text into the void: I’m so sorry I hurt you. I would like to spend the next fifty years making it up to you, if only you’d give me the chance. I am not the man I was when we met. You have changed me. You have shown me the possibility of love.

  He stared at the phone screen for nearly a minute, willing the text to change from delivered to read. Finally giving up, he shoved the phone in his pocket, grabbed his briefcase and headed out the door.

  ~*~

  “Hey, it’s great to see you, Luca,” Amelia said enthusiastically. “The lab hasn’t been the same since you left.”

  Amelia was a software engineer in the visual analytics lab where Luca had spent his early career designing interactive audio-visual user interfaces. Also gay, she had become a good friend, supportive when Tom had pulled his shenanigans, without ever being judgmental.

  Luca hugged the woman, warmed by her kindness. “It’s really nice of you to c-c-come all the way to the airport, and on such short notice. I could have taken the T or shuttle.” He’d caught an Uber to the airport and managed to get a flight up to Boston that got him in at six thirty that evening.

  “Don’t be a nutbar,” Amelia laughed. She was always coming up with funny terms like that, and Luca grinned in response. “Would I let my brother from another mother take public transportation when I have a perfectly decent car?”

  She held him at arm’s length and peered up into his face. “You look like shit, my friend. Pull an all-nighter or something?”

  “Or something,” Luca said with a rueful smile as he ran a hand through his hair in a vain effort to comb it. He probably did look like shit, seeing as he felt like shit. Not ready to answer her question, he said instead, “It’s great to s-s-see you, Amelia. I really appreciate your letting me crash at your place for a few days. I totally c-c-could have gotten a hotel room.”

  “Again, Mr. Fruitcake, why would I let my best buddy of days gone by stay in a hotel, when I have an empty guest bedroom just waiting to be used?”

  “Marilyn…?” Luca queried. Marilyn had been Amelia’s roommate and on-again, off-again lover all during the time Luca had known her.

  “Ancient history, babe,” Amelia said with a toss of her long blond hair. “I’ve been seeing this adorable redhead in the admissions office for the past six months named Chloe. I stay over at her place a lot, which is another reason it’s crazy for you not to use my crib, since it’ll just be sitting empty half the time. Stay as long as you like.”

  Luca had packed a suitcase and bought a one-way ticket, not sure how long he’d be in Boston. He’d put the flogger and cane in with his clothes, though he hadn’t entirely decided whether he’d actually check out the clubs or not. He’d left the cuffs behind, unable to bear the thought of wrapping them around another man�
�s wrists. As they waited at the carousel for the baggage to unload, Amelia said, “So, you said you were heading up here because you needed a break from some shit you were dealing with. Care to be more specific?”

  Luca scowled. “Not p-p-particularly.”

  “So, it’s a guy, huh?” Amelia said knowingly. “What did the bastard do?”

  He broke my heart.

  It sounded so dramatic, and Luca really didn’t want to talk about it. Not now, while it still hurt so much. Not to mention, it was hard to admit he’d been such a gullible, fucking idiot. He shrugged. “It j-j-just didn’t work out. I needed a b-b-break.”

  “I get it,” Amelia said. “So, we’ll forget about the prick. Come out tonight with me and Chloe. We’re going to Jane’s. It’s a great new bar that caters to lesbians, but gay guys are welcome, too. They have a terrific DJ, and drinks are just three dollars all night on Thursdays. Maybe you’ll meet a cute guy and put that asshole back in Denver out of your mind.”

  “Maybe,” Luca said noncommittally.

  They caught up on each other’s lives on the drive from Logan to Amelia’s place in the South End. Amelia filled him in on the latest office gossip and politics, and Luca talked about his work at Strata. He didn’t mention Reese and, thankfully, Amelia didn’t pry.

  Though he was exhausted and still a little hungover, he agreed to go out with Amelia and her girlfriend, not wanting to sit alone another night licking his wounds. After dropping off his stuff at Amelia’s place, they picked up Chloe and went for dinner at the Hourly Oyster House, his favorite Harvard Square seafood joint. He ordered the lobster bisque for an appetizer, and then indulged in a dozen fresh, plump Mookie Blues raw oysters as his main course, savoring the sweet briny taste with each delicious bite.

  Amelia and Chloe were good company, easygoing and fun, and he was glad he’d made the trip up. Maybe he’d leave Denver altogether and return to Cambridge. He often got calls from headhunters trying to steal him away. He’d do the geographic cure on his shattered heart, and put Reese firmly behind him.