Marie Harte - Flight of Fancy

“I wouldn’t press, but I know how things can fester.” Gavin quieted. After a moment, he said, “Have you ever talked to anyone about it?”

Aidan felt so angry he wanted to explode. He didn’t want Gavin seeing him like this. Hell, he didn’t want anyone to see him like this. But Gavin had to poke and pry. “You want to know? Do you really want to know why I don’t bottom?” he yelled and turned to face his lover.

“Yes.”

The quiet response irritated him all the more, because he saw compassion in those big blue eyes.

“When I was ten, my father sold me for drug money to some shithead pedophile who raped me, over and over, until I just couldn’t take it anymore. I made his brain explode. I killed the fucker and took off, but not before I told my old man’s pusher a bunch of lies that got him killed. Happy now?”

Aidan wanted to storm off, to leave and not look back. He hated the memories with a passion. He felt those hands on him, that sickeningly sweet smell of Old Spice and body odor clogging his nose. The unwelcome intrusion of a dirty, thick finger, and then more…

“I’m so sorry, Aidan. So sorry.” Gavin had tears in his eyes.

“I don’t want your pity. Get out.” He turned off the emotion, not able to let it in. His brain started bubbling, the need to destroy, to kill, like a drug. He saw Tyler and Samson in his mind’s eye, and he wanted them to burn.

Gavin turned to leave, and Aidan let himself shut down. He let all the rage and the pain and the grief go. The numbness worked, because it allowed him to exist, in control, strong and sure. No doubt or vulnerability. He had to be together and on guard for Samson when the prick returned.

God, he couldn’t wait to kill that asshole. And this time, he’d make sure to draw out the pain. He’d keep his mental energy under wraps while he filleted the guy with his own hunting knife.

Hands circling his waist shocked him. He would have pulled away but Gavin clung to his back like glue.

“Let go.” I don’t want to feel right now. “Fuck, Gavin. Get off.” His voice almost broke.

“No. I’m not leaving you.”

“Not now.” But you will later, because no one stays. “I can read your mind, boy. I know what you want, what you need. And it isn’t me. I’m not a daddy for you. Okay? We fucked, and it’s over. It was a mission, Gavin. That’s it.”

“Okay.” Gavin hugged him tighter.

He felt moisture against his back and sagged. “Christ. Tell me you’re not crying.” He blinked hard to dry his own eyes.

“I’m not crying.” Gavin sniffed.

“Hell.” Aidan didn’t want to move. He liked Gavin’s arms there. And that was the problem. He liked it too much.

“I love you, Aidan.”

He froze.

“I love you, and if you look deep, you’ll see why.”

“Let go. You don’t love me. You love the Dom you think is me.”

“You read minds. You manipulate them. And you nearly killed two guys with that oversize brain of yours. You like to protect me, because I’m smaller than you. And you like fucking me, because I’m good in bed.”

Aidan’s bark of laughter sounded like a sob, so he shut his mouth and clenched his jaw tight to keep from responding.

“I know you, Aidan. I really do. And I love you. I don’t care what some insane, pathetic loser did to you when you were ten. And I’m glad you killed the man who sold you to hell.”

“He was my father.”

“And he should have protected you.”

Aidan hadn’t meant to share telepathically, but Gavin was fucking him up. “You have no idea what I’m really like. I’m an asshole. I don’t know how to love someone. You said it yourself. I’m controlling. It’s my way or else. I don’t know how to love anyone, Gavin. And I don’t know any other way to be.”

“It’s okay. I know how to give you what you need. And you do love me. You just don’t know how to handle it.”

Panicking because Gavin seemed to be rejecting his excuses, Aidan struck fast and hard, needing to get out before Gavin tossed him to the curb. “I don’t love you.” It didn’t get more brutal than that, even if it was a bald-faced lie.

“Yes, you do.” Gavin moved faster than Aidan would have imagined. A swirl of power enveloped them both, and then they were in the air.

Aidan hadn’t prepared for it and felt off balance. Then before he could gather his center, Gavin shifted them in the air and moved higher, toward the vaulted ceiling.

“Shit. Gavin, let go.”

But when he did, everything went wrong. Aidan landed hard on the bed on his belly. And Gavin dropped like a dead weight onto his back.

“Gavin?”

He didn’t move.

A raspy chuckle came from the darkened corner of the room. Samson Ruelle stepped out, a gun in his hand. “Hello, boys. Miss me?”

Samson stared at the pair with glee. The fuckheads outside had been more than obvious. He’d taken them out without expending much effort. Two shots with this gun, and an elephant would go down. He’d handled the one, and Tyler, now out on bail, had handled the other. Of course, it helped that Samson had brought plenty of backup. A dozen men on the payroll now followed him, because he’d taken charge. Kerr had taken one look at Samson and known it was his time to step down.

Samson hadn’t seen him since their escape from the feds a week ago in Mendocino.

Gavin Caldwell, the little twink, was adorable against Aidan’s back. From flight to fright. Terrific stuff.

“Like a fucking daytime drama. Your boyfriend cried for you, big guy. That’s a lot of love.”

Aidan didn’t speak, but his rage was a tangible thing. It made Samson jittery, and so fucking hard. “After all that talk about being in control, I bet it bugged the shit out of you when I had you tied up at my mercy.” He licked his lips, loving the sight of Aidan facedown on that giant bed, his long hair covering his face but not his left eye, which was trained on Samson with a hatred that burned.

“You’re so hot when you’re angry.” Samson walked into the light and aimed the gun at Aidan. “With one shot, I could knock you out. You’d wake up with me inside you, buried in that ass you won’t give to just anyone. Only for your dead daddy’s friends do you put out, huh?” He snickered. He loved this. He could see how much Aidan wanted to kill him, but the warrior on the bed was stuck in Samson’s sights.

“Why don’t you put the gun away and fight me like a real man?”

“Why? So you can do something to my mind again? Yeah, I get it. You’re some kind of mental freak. You did something to me and Ty. And he’s not happy about it, by the way.” Samson shook his head. “He’s out on bail. In fact, he’s outside right now, slitting the throats of the Boy Scouts who should have been watching out for you. Oh, and he’s not alone. I have more men waiting for my signal. They can’t wait to play with your little toy.”

Samson shook his head, having fun for the first time in days. “It wasn’t easy, tracking you down, but Stallbridge is sloppy. The money led right to your precious gym. And Ty couldn’t wait to help me out. It’s just you and me now.” Samson glanced at Gavin and shot him again, on principle.

“I’m going to kill you slow.” Menace dripped from the blond giant’s mouth like venom.

Before he could use any of that weird mental stuff, Samson shot Aidan once, in the thigh. “I’m going to fuck you slow,” he countered. “In a few seconds you’ll feel it. The burn of your muscles slowing, not responding. Then you’ll be paralyzed. Another shot will knock you out. I want you to feel me, though. We’re going to have so much fun, Aidan. Right here, in your own home. Won’t that be special?” He laughed. “I’m not going to kill you. We’re going to fuck for a while. Then you’ll bleed. A lot. And then we’ll go back to my place and play some more. You see, Carl is gone. I’m head of the syndicate now.”