by Lynn Lorenz
“Let’s go. There’s nothing for us to do.” Brian motioned to the door.
“Can I take my clothes?” Sammi pointed to his room, the first one Mitchell had opened.
“I’ll check.” Brian motioned to one of the officers. “Is it all right if he takes his clothes?”
“Sure. Just the clothes and you’ll have to give your statements before you leave.”
Mitchell sighed and Sammi nodded as the officer pulled out a pad and began asking questions.
Sammi ducked into his room. He rushed to the dresser and pulled open the drawers. He tossed the clothes onto the narrow bed, making a small pile. He didn’t have a suitcase or duffel bag, so he did what he’d done before, stripped off the pillowcase from the pillow and stuffed his meager belongings into it.
Then he slung it over his shoulder and, without a single glance back, walked out of there.
Chapter Fourteen
Mitchell, Sammi and Brian finished dinner. Sammi had cooked a new recipe he’d found online, a simple pasta dish with onions and sausage, and it had been delicious. Then Sammi insisted on doing the dishes and sent the two men out of the kitchen to Brian’s living room.
Mitchell sat on the couch and Brian took the chair across from him.
“Thanks for asking us over tonight. It’s good for Sammi.”
“Hey, I got a fabulous home-cooked dinner.” Brian grinned. “How’s he settling in?” Brian’s gaze darted toward the kitchen. It had been almost two weeks since they’d freed Sammi from Donovan.
“Fine. He’s still a little skittish about going out, but he’s getting better.” Mitchell sent a shy smile toward the kitchen.
“It takes time. How are things between you two?” Brian raised an eyebrow as he lowered his voice.
“Well, if you mean our bond, it’s as strong as ever. If you mean the sex, it’s phenomenal.” Mitchell couldn’t help but grin.
Sammi joined them and sat on the couch next to Mitchell. Sliding under Mitchell’s arm to snuggle against his chest, Sammi was right where he belonged.
“I have a couple of things I want to discuss with you, Sammi.” Brian leaned forward and clasped his hands between his knees.
“With me?” Sammi glanced at Mitchell, but Mitchell just shrugged. “Okay.”
“I talked to Pete. The D.A. thinks Donovan’s and Moretti’s convictions are in the bag. With your testimony and with all the evidence they found on Donovan’s computer, he’s going to be locked up for a very long time. Maybe life. And Moretti will be doing a long stretch too.”
“That’s good to know.” Sammi exhaled. “It’s a big relief.” He still half-expected to see Donovan or Moretti around every corner. Hard to break old habits and let go of old fears. It would take time, but he’d do it.
“Pete’s a good friend. He understands a lot of things. So, I wasn’t surprised when he gave me this.” Brian picked up a large brown envelope from the coffee table, and handed it to Sammi. “These are yours. There are no copies. The digital files were destroyed. Pete gave me his word and I believe him.”
Sammi raised his eyebrows at Mitchell, then opened the folder and slid out a dozen photographs. The blood rushed to his face as he shuffled through them while Mitchell watched. They were Donovan’s photos of him, naked, in a series of erotic poses. In every one of them his cock was fully erect.
He shoved them back into the folder and clutched it in his hands, crushing the sides. He couldn’t meet Brian’s gaze as the burning under his skin raced down his throat.
“It’s not my business,” Brian said, “but if I were you, I’d burn those when I get home tonight.”
“Burn them?”
Brian sighed. “Sammi, you’re young. You have a new future ahead of you, one where photos like this might become a serious problem. Take my advice, burn them.”
Sammi nodded. He wasn’t sure about the future he had ahead, but he didn’t voice his doubts. He slid the envelope onto the table and sat back.
“What do you think, Mitchell?”
“I think you should listen to Brian. This is his business.” Mitchell gave him a reassuring hug as he pulled Sammi to his side.
“Okay. I’ll burn them tonight.” Sammi nodded.
“What’s the other thing?” Mitchell asked.
“Let’s have a drink.” Brian stood and went to his bar. After taking down three short crystal glasses, he uncorked the decanter, poured three whiskeys, and returned.
Sammi took the glass and held it up. “What’s this?”
“Whiskey. Time to put some hair on your baby’s-butt-smooth chest,” Brian drawled.
Sammi frowned and took a big sip. He gasped as the amber liquid burned its way down his throat, filling his head with its vapors. Trying not to cough, he choked instead.
Mitchell and Brian laughed. “Got to sip it, babe,” Mitchell said.
Sammi nodded and tried again. A little sip wasn’t so bad. It still burned going down, but in a warm, sexy way. “It’s better.”
Mitchell caressed Sammi’s leg, offering reassurance. Sammi was safe with these two wonderful men. How had this happened to him? He didn’t deserve any of this, and yet it had happened. Mitchell had come into his life and turned it upside down, like a trailer after a Texas twister.
Upside down felt fantastic.
Brian leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. He held his glass between his hands and slowly rolled it from side to side. Sammi watched as Brian seemed to gather himself for what he had to say.
Butterflies danced in Sammi’s stomach.
“You know I’m a P.I., right?”
Sammi nodded.
“I do all sorts of work. One of the things I do is track people down, find out where they are. Sometimes, I find out who they are.” Brian’s gaze bored into Sammi’s so intently Sammi didn’t want to say a word would that might break the spell. “I believe I can find out who you are, Sammi.”
Sammi’s glass slipped from his hands and hit the wood floor. It didn’t break, but what was left of his whiskey spilled. “Sorry,” Sammi stuttered and reached for the glass.
Mitchell put out a hand to stop him and pulled Sammi back to his side. “I’ll get it. Listen to what Brian is telling you.” Mitchell got up, went to the kitchen and got a towel. He returned and wiped up the spill, picked up the glass and set it on the table.
Sammi focused on Brian. “You can find out my real name?”
“I think so. And once I have your name, we can locate your birth certificate.”
Sammi’s mouth dropped open and he spun to face Mitchell, searching for confirmation.
“Is this true? I’ll know my name? My real name?” A rush of happiness filled his chest and he wanted to get up and dance around the room.
“With a birth certificate, you can apply for a social security card. Be a real person, with a future and countless opportunities.” Mitchell sat next to Sammi.
Sammi swallowed and tears welled in his eyes. He really wished he had that whiskey back. He reached over, snatched Mitchell’s glass and downed it.
Coughing, eyes running, Sammi jumped up and fell onto Brian. Brian caught him and held him in his arms, Sammi’s legs stretched over the side of the chair.
“Thanks, Brian. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.” Sammi kissed him on the cheek with a loud smack. “Other than Mitchell,” he quickly added. Other than Otis, Brian was Sammi’s only other friend, but he didn’t need to point that out.
Brian struggled with Sammi in his lap. “Hey, now. Calm down. Real men don’t jump into other real men’s laps. It’s against the code.” Brian’s face took on a pink flush.
Sammi pointed at him. “You’re blushing.”
Mitchell laughed. “Sammi, not even our tougher-than-nails Brian can resist a man as beautiful as you. Even if you aren’t his type.”
Sammi frowned. He almost asked what Mitchell was talking about, when he felt Brian’s hard reaction to him sitting in his lap. “Oops!” Hopping off, he grimaced. �
��Sorry.”
“No need to be sorry.” Brian shook his head. “The boy is sexy as hell.”
“And nothing but trouble,” Mitchell finished.
Sammi slid next to Mitchell. “I thought you liked sexy.” He peered up from under his bangs into Mitchell’s eyes.
“I do, but I love trouble, too.” Mitchell pulled Sammi on top of his lap. Sammi straddled him, the better to rub their erections together.
Sammi wrapped his arms around Mitchell’s neck, lowered his mouth and kissed him, deep and dirty and hot. He tasted the heady whiskey on Mitchell’s sweet tongue and moaned. Mitchell joined him in that soft sound as their kiss deepened.
“Get a room!” Brian laughed as he tossed a pillow at them.
* * * *
Today, Mitchell had gone to an interview. This was his third call back for a position at another oil company. Mitchell would hear this morning if he’d got the job.
Sammi sat in the kitchen, chewing his thumb as he waited for Mitchell to come home. Over the last two weeks, Sammi had spent most mornings experimenting with breakfast and lunch recipes, cleaning the apartment, watching television and taking walks with Mitchell around the neighborhood. A small coffee shop located off the avenue had become their favorite destination.
Each time Sammi brought up money, Mitchell had assured him that his finances were good, and he would have plenty of money once his last paycheck had been deposited, but Sammi still felt bad that he wasn’t pulling his weight.
Maybe if Otis let him come back to the café, he’d contribute, but he didn’t make much money there. Not really. Not enough to really help with the bills. But when he’d paid for their coffees a few times and even a lunch or two, he’d felt like a normal man. Blow job money didn’t hold a candle to honest money. Sammi liked the pride he’d felt when Otis had paid him.
If Otis wouldn’t give him his job back, maybe he could find another? A place that would pay him under the table. He had the experience now, of cleaning, bussing tables, even though it wasn’t much. It had to count for something.
When Brian found out who he was, that would change. He could find a real job, one where he would be legitimate and on the books. However, Brian had warned him that it might take some time, maybe even a few months. Sammi knew Brian had other paying work to do, so Sammi was determined to be patient.
But his patience extended only to himself. Mitchell had been gone since eight-thirty for a nine o’clock appointment and now it was after twelve. A rapid series of mishaps rushed through Sammi’s head, but if anything bad had happened, he’d know it. His connection with Mitchell stayed strong.
The scrape of a key in the lock and the front door opened. Sammi stopped gnawing on his thumb and opened himself to Mitchell. Other than the connection between them, humming like a high-voltage wire, Sammi got nothing.
Sammi smiled. Mitchell had become good at blocking as he tested his own power these last weeks. Mitchell, unused to having this connection, had tried to explore it and its limits.
“Sammi!” Mitchell called out from the hall. Sammi heard the clink of Mitchell’s keys in the ceramic bowl on the table by the door.
“In the kitchen,” Sammi called back. He braced his hands on the edge of the table and pushed his back against the chair to keep himself in his seat and not flying down the hall.
Mitchell came in, a large bag in his hand, which he put on a chair. Sammi searched his face for any signs of the results of his interview, but his stoic expression told Sammi that Mitchell was enjoying himself, keeping the results of the interview private.
The bastard.
“Mitchell! What happened?” Sammi couldn’t wait any longer.
“I got the job.” Mitchell broke into a magnificent grin.
Sammi jumped up and threw his arms around Mitchell. “I knew it. I’m so proud of you.” He kissed Mitchell and melted into his strong arms. Mitchell dropped his hands to caress Sammi’s ass. Mitchell kissed him, delving into Sammi’s mouth with his tongue, tasting and demanding, then he took Sammi by the arms and pushed him away.
“I have something for you.”
“A present?” Sammi’s eyes widened. He loved getting presents and Mitchell loved giving them. One day, Sammi would have enough money to give Mitchell so many fine gifts.
“Only if you accept it.” Mitchell leaned over and picked up the bag. “Sit down, babe.”
Sammi sat back in his chair, his hands clenched together on the tabletop. His knee bounced wildly beneath the table. “What is it?”
Mitchell pulled the bag away and placed a huge book in front of Sammi.
Sammi stared at it. “A book? A really big book.” It was almost three inches thick and bigger than any book he’d ever touched. He scanned the title. “What’s GED?”
“That’s G-E-D. It stands for General Education Degree. Basically, it’s like a high school diploma.” Mitchell touched the book, pointing out the words.
“What’s it for?” Sammi stared at the book, then up into Mitchell’s face.
“Sammi. If you study this book, I’ll bet in six months you could take the test, pass it, and earn your high school diploma.” Mitchell’s hopeful look made Sammi’s gut twist. The book was so big and Sammi’s faith in himself so small.
Sammi stared down at the book. “Four years of high school in this one book? And you think I can read, study and know all this in six months?” His eyes widened and he shook his head. “I’m not that smart, Mitchell.”
Mitchell’s hand slammed down on the table and Sammi jumped. “Don’t ever say that, Sammi. Don’t ever sell yourself short. You’re smarter than hell. You had to be to survive on the street and that bastard Donovan.” His voice was so strong, so adamant, Sammi couldn’t help but believe him.
“Six months?” Sammi pulled the book closer. Six months was a long time, really. Half a year.
“Maybe faster if you work hard.” Mitchell nodded.
“Faster? I’m not sure I can go faster. Would it be okay…would you still love me if I don’t finish in six months?” Or at all, Sammi wanted to say, but didn’t.
“Of course I’ll still love you, babe. Just take all the time you need, but I’ve found setting a goal helps me to stay focused on the end game.”
“So I can set a goal for six months?”
“Yes.”
“What if I don’t meet it?” Sammi bit his bottom lip and chewed on it.
“Then you can readjust your goal to meet your needs.”
Sammi nodded. “So it’s sort of a flexible goal?”
“Right. Nothing set in concrete.” Mitchell stared at him for a moment. “There will be no punishments if you don’t make the goal, babe. I swear I’ll never punish you.” He cupped Sammi’s chin and lifted it so he could lay a tender kiss on Sammi’s mouth. “Got it?”
“Got it.” Sammi smiled and gave him a quick peck on the lips.
Sammi opened the book and began to read the first page. Mitchell laughed, and reached out to lay his hand over Sammi’s. “One more thing, babe. Well, a couple, really.”
“What?” Sammi’s heart, once beating steady, staggered a bit at the wary tone in Mitchell’s voice.
“The book was one of the reasons I was late. The other is that I spoke to Otis this morning. He wants you back. He told me you’re the best worker he’s ever had and he can’t wait to start to pass on his skills as a cook to you.”
Sammi sat up. “Otis wants me back?” If that was true, maybe he could study for his test and earn money at the same time.
“Otis and I talked about you. He really likes you.” Mitchell cleared his throat. “You never told me you wanted to be a chef.” Mitchell’s voice was soft and Sammi wondered if he’d hurt Mitchell by not sharing that, but when Donovan had taken him off the street that night, he’d given up on that dream.
Sammi shrugged. “It’s silly, I know.”
Mitchell’s voice hardened. “Don’t say that. Stop putting yourself down. Those days are over. It’s not silly. It�
�s good. Something you can be proud of. You start with Otis on Monday. He said to be there at ten.”
Sammi’s head reeled. A high school diploma and a job. It was too much. Never had so many good things happened to him. He nodded. “I’ll be there. If you don’t mind.”
“Babe, you’ll be there even if I do mind. This is your life. I know we’re together, but you’re not my slave, for sex or anything else. Your life is yours. I’m just lucky as hell to have you in mine.”
“Really?” Tears welled again. Damn, he’d have to stop getting so emotional about every sweet word Mitchell said to him.
“Really. I was thinking, after you get your GED, if you’d like to enroll in college in the fall, I could help you with that.”
“College!” Sammi bolted to his feet, the urge to flee overpowering. “I can’t—” At the warning in Mitchell’s eyes, Sammi cut himself off. Mitchell was right. No more negative talk.
“I never, in my wildest dreams, ever thought I’d go to college.”
“The University of Houston has an amazing culinary program. You can work at Otis’ until fall and earn money for the tuition, and I’ll help you with getting grants or student loans, or anything else you need,” Mitchell said. “But only if you want to go to college.”
Sammi stared down at the book that held his future. A future he never would have had without this man. Mitchell had given him so much more than he thought he’d ever have.
Everything rested on Brian finding out who he really was and getting that birth certificate. He could wait for that to happen, or he could get started and when it did happen, he’d be so far ahead on his dreams.
Dreams. He had dreams. Dreams that could come true.
Sammi let the tears spill down his cheeks. “I knew you loved me, Mitchell. But I never thought you believed in me. No one has ever believed in me. Ever.”
Mitchell opened his arms and Sammi went to him. Resting his head against Mitchell’s shoulder, Sammi took all the love and strength Mitchell offered him.