by Lane Hart
Maybe that’s one of the main reasons I snapped and lost my temper. I took out my shame for being aroused by the situation on the two men in the room with Gabriel. I didn’t like seeing a stranger touching my prospect like that, even if he had asked for it, which I didn’t know for sure at the time and couldn’t bring myself to ask. It was easier to just throw punches and tell myself I was protecting the kid. I was raised by an abusive father who took out every emotion he ever had on me with his fists, so it’s no surprise that I learned from him to do the same damn thing.
But there wasn’t anything I could do when Gabriel got down on his knees and saw the whole, humiliating reality right in front of his face after he undid my pants. I couldn’t hurt him or push him away. For almost a year, I had been watching his back, showing him the ropes of the MC, and making sure his tattoo shop was a success. Besides, I didn’t want to stop him, even though I hated myself for that as soon as it was over.
Getting arrested later that night, being thrown in prison for a mandatory five years was almost a reprieve from having to face a shameful truth I would rather hide from than confront head on.
I just don’t know how much longer I can keep avoiding being honest with myself now that I can no longer hide from the world.
Quincey
Ian thinks he wants to be with me, but I know he’s just scared of admitting to himself that he cares about Gabriel. And I get it. I can’t imagine how hard it would be for a tough guy like him to own up to how he truly feels for fear of rejection by the rest of the Savage Kings.
Still, with a little push, maybe he’ll finally see that it’s worth it to follow his heart rather than his head. And thinking about the two of them together, going at it, that would be so freaking hot.
So, I’m going to meddle to try and make that fantasy a reality.
“Hey, Gabriel,” I say when I walk up to him after I find him alone, wading in the cool water up to his calves.
“Hey, Quincey. How have you been?” he asks, putting a hand up to his eyes to try and block the bright midday sun.
“I’ve been okay,” I tell him.
“How many times has Ian come to see you?”
“Just once,” I answer honestly with a smile. Man, he knows Ian so well.
“Oh yeah? I figured he’d be camped out on Dalton and Peyton’s lawn, bellowing out love ballads,” he replies with a grin.
“Nope. He hasn’t. In fact, he was looking for you earlier,” I lie.
“He was? Really?” Gabriel asks, his dark eyes going round in surprise. “He hasn’t really talked to me since…everything happened. Actually, he hasn’t even talked to me at all since that day, sort of like how he wouldn’t even let me visit him in prison for years after…well, you know.”
“I guess now’s your chance,” I tell him. “He went that way, down the beach.” I point in the direction Ian showed me earlier. “You should go find him and see if he’ll finally open up.”
“Yeah. Okay,” Gabriel agrees. “Thanks, Quincey.”
“You’re welcome,” I say as he takes off walking through the sand.
Now I just need to figure out how to make the second part of my plan happen – ensuring that Ian has no choice but to talk things out with Gabriel right here and now.
As if on cue, a baby starts screaming bloody murder.
Lexi is trying to bounce their little girl on her shoulder before Torin comes over and takes over trying to soothe her.
Heading over toward them, I ask, “Aw, what’s the matter with your sweet girl?”
“I think she’s having an allergic reaction to our new sunscreen. She’s got a rash on her arms and legs,” Lexi tells me with a look of horror on her face.
“Oh, well, then we better get her home so you can give her some Benadryl,” I suggest.
“We’ve only been out here for an hour,” Torin mutters while rubbing the baby’s back. “I hate to ask Sax to drive us back so soon.”
“Mommy, I want to go home!” their little boy says when he comes running over and throws his arms around Lexi’s leg.
“Oh, Liam,” she says with a groan.
“I think everyone has had enough sun and sand already,” I say as I glance around the rest of the group.
“Maybe so,” Torin agrees. “Let me go find Sax…”
“No, you should stay here with the baby, and I’ll go see if he can round everyone up,” I offer. Without waiting for his agreement, I jog through the dunes over to Sax and Isobel who are sharing a single beach towel because he’s basically laying on top of her.
“Hey, um, Sax? Sorry to bother you, but we have sort of an emergency that requires the use of your boat.”
“Go get ‘em, Captain,” Isobel tells him with a smile as she pushes him off of her.
“Fuck,” he mutters, giving his girl one last kiss on her cheek before he pushes himself up to his feet to face me. “What’s up?”
“Can I talk to you over here?” I ask as I start walking toward the water where the waves are louder so no one can overhear. Not that they can over the crying baby and whining kid…
“Everything okay?” Sax asks.
“Torin and Lexi need you to take them back to the mainland. They think the baby’s having an allergic reaction to the sunscreen, and Liam is ready to go home.”
“Ah, shit. Let me grab my keys,” he says as he starts back to his and Isobel’s blanket.
“Wait,” I tell him when I grab his arm to stop him. “Can you help me get everyone else to leave too?”
“What? Why? We just got here.”
“I know, but I think we should all go back. The clouds are sort of dark. Could be a storm coming.”
“Just spit it out, Quincey,” he huffs.
“Gabe and Ian went for a walk,” I explain. “And I was hoping we could leave them behind.”
“Leave them?” he asks with a furrowed brow before his lips curve into a smile. “Oh, right. So you know too?”
“Do you know?” I throw the question back to him.
“I’ve heard about…things that happened while Ian was in prison.”
“Yes! That!” I agree. “So, can we please leave them here alone? Just until like in the morning?”
Shaking his head, he turns back to the beach and claps his hands loud enough for everyone to hear. “Listen up, people! We’re heading back right now! Leave your shit and get on the boat! We’ll come back for it all later.”
Turning back to me, he says softly, “There’s enough food and drinks in the coolers to hold them until tomorrow. And with the canopy, they’ll have some shade and cover if it rains.”
“Perfect!” I exclaim. “Thanks, Sax.”
“No problem,” he replies. “It’s a good thing Abe stayed home with Mercy and her morning sickness, or he would have never let us leave his brother behind.”
“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” I say with a smile as we all haul ass to Sax’s boat.
Less than five minutes later we’re off with an appreciative Lexi and Torin; and thanks to the urgency, no one else is the wiser as to the two men we left behind.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Gabriel
“Hey,” I say when I finally find Ian sitting in the dunes at the far end of the island with a can of beer in his hand. His short hair looks even lighter in the sun. With his shades, tats, and boardshorts, he looks so relaxed he could almost pass for a hippie surfer except he’s too pale from getting just an hour a day of the outdoors for years. He’s a good man who belongs here, free and happy like this, instead of locked up in a cage. I’m such a prick for enjoying the few minutes we had together during visitation every week when he was so miserable.
“What are you doing down here?” Ian asks in a gruff, unwelcome greeting that deflates my mood faster than a pin can pop a balloon.
“What do you mean?” I respond when I come to a stop right in front of him, my body blocking the sun with my hands on my hips. “Quincey said you were looking for me.”
“No, I wasn’t,” he says into the sand. “She lied to you. She lied to us both.”
“Oh,” I mutter in disappointment. For two whole fucking weeks, he’s been avoiding me; and I thought he was finally ready to hash shit out.
“I was waiting for her to show up so we could talk and, you know, maybe fuck,” he mutters before taking a swig of his beer.
Burying my toes in the soft sand, I jokingly tell him, “Eh, fucking in the dunes will only get you sand fleas biting your ass, and in the ocean a crab could grab you by the balls.”
“Shut up,” Ian huffs, apparently not in the mood for me and my bullshit. Too fucking bad. He can’t keep pretending like I don’t exist.
“No, I’m not going to shut up. Since Quincey blew you off and sent me your way, you and I are going to talk,” I tell him.
“Not this shit again,” he grumbles.
“Yeah, this shit again!” I shout at him. “I’m so fucking tired of you blowing me off.”
“There’s nothing I need to say to you, boy scout.”
“Nothing?” I repeat. “The other day, that was…different. Is that why you’ve been avoiding me? Was what we did too gay for you?”
“I was pissed off at you for screwing Quincey while I wasn’t there. That’s all that was. I wanted to hurt you. To punish you. It’s done, so can we fucking forget it now?”
“No, Ian, I can’t just forget it,” I reply. “You weren’t punishing me, and it sure as hell didn’t hurt me. That was different from fucking my mouth when you were horny and desperate in prison with no other options. You could’ve screwed Quincey instead of me. She was right there too, and completely naked. But you didn’t. You told her to leave because you wanted me. Just me! You were jealous and staking a claim by taking me.”
“No, I wasn’t. I was angry.”
“Jesus, just admit that you liked it!” I yell at him as I drop to my knees on the sand in front of him to try and make him look at me. “Why is that so hard for you to do when it’s just me and you here right now? I’m not asking you to come out of the closet or to tell the world what we did. I’m just asking you to be honest with yourself and with me for one fucking second!”
“I didn’t like it,” he says into his beer.
“Liar,” I call him out and slap the fucking beer out of his hand, spraying the golden liquid on both of us. “Your mouth lies, but you know what doesn’t lie, Ian? Your dick when it was nice and thick and hard, coming inside of me.”
His jaw clenches before he responds. “That was just sex, nothing more. Your ass wasn’t any different than a woman’s cunt.”
“Nothing more?” I repeat. “So you’re going with basic biology as your defense. That’s your pathetic explanation of what happened?”
“Yep.”
“So you don’t give a shit about me?” I ask him point blank. “I’m just a mouth or an ass you’ve fucked to get your rocks off, and now it’s over and done?” When he doesn’t reply, I shove both of his shoulders and shout, “Just tell me the truth, Ian! That’s all I want, to know where we stand so that maybe I can finally move on. I’ve waited for you long enough! I can’t keep doing this hot and cold shit with you, whatever it is.”
He swallows hard, and I prepare myself for his next words to hurt me more than anything he’s ever said or done to me.
“Yes, okay?” he answers.
“Yes what?” I ask since now in my outrage I can’t remember which of my own questions he’s responding to.
“Yes, I do. I…care about you,” he says, which nearly levels me into the sand. “But it doesn’t matter!”
Fuck. I should’ve known it was too good to be true and there was a ‘but’ in there.
“Why not?” I ask. “Why doesn’t it matter?”
“Because I’m still attracted to women too,” he explains with a wince like it wasn’t easy for him to finally, fucking finally, admit that he’s attracted to me in a roundabout way. “That’s not something that will ever change, okay, no matter how much you wish it would.”
“I know you’re still attracted to women,” I tell him simply. “Hell, I am too even though I love to get fucked by men. It’s called being bisexual.”
“Yeah, but you can give them up. I can’t,” he says. “I won’t. And I know that’s not fair to you; but when the choice is to be with you or women, I’ll always pick women over you.”
“You mean you’ll always choose the easier path, right?” I grit out. It sounds like a fucking cop out, since just seconds ago he admitted that he cared about me, more than just the sex.
“No, I mean I’ll choose the one I can’t live without.”
“So what you’re saying is that you can’t live without pussy and tits, but you can live without me?” I remark.
“Yeah, I can.”
“Fuck you,” I tell him, getting to my feet even though his words made my knees weaker than a sucker punch. The entire walk back up the beach is a blur with stupid fucking tears stinging my eyes. Or sand. It’s probably just some sand in my eyes.
This is why I never should’ve fell for a straight guy. I shouldn’t have spent so many years waiting on the impossible to happen with him just because he didn’t mind a few blowjobs from me.
I’m so lost in my own head that I don’t realize until I reach the blue canopy on the opposite end of the island that the beach is completely deserted. The coolers, towels and even sunscreen bottles from our group still litter the sand, and yet there’s not another soul in sight.
Where the fuck did everyone go? It’s like they were abducted out of thin air or some shit.
Grabbing a beer from one of the coolers, I sit down on top of it, waiting them out, assuming they all went for a walk or a ride out on the boat. They will be back soon since they wouldn’t leave for home without all of their beach gear or me and Ian.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Ian
“Where the hell is everyone?” I ask Gabe, who is sitting on a blue cooler under the canopy when I get back up the beach.
“Gone,” Gabe says.
“Gone where?” I ask.
“How the fuck am I supposed to know? They were gone by the time I got back,” he grumbles.
“The boat’s gone too,” I say as I glance around the shore and what was left of our picnic. “Do you think they went home?”
“Again, I don’t fucking know,” Gabe answers without looking in my direction. “I thought they would come back since they left everything, but there’s no sign of Sax’s boat. And my phone doesn’t have a signal, so I can’t call anyone. Quincey knew we were still gone, so I think she’s probably the reason we got left behind.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me! They can’t just leave us out here!” I exclaim. “Someone else must have noticed we were missing!”
“Well, either they did notice and didn’t care, or they didn’t. Either way, it looks like we’re stuck here until someone comes along with a boat.”
“Well, fuck!” I shout. “What the hell are we going to do?”
“We wait.”
“Wait? Just sit here and wait?”
“Yep,” he answers. “Unless you want to swim back to shore?”
“That’s at least ten miles!” I huff.
“Swim it or wait, Ian. Those are our choices.”
“They’ll come back for us soon,” I tell Gabe as I grab a beer from one of the other coolers and then stretch out on an abandoned beach towel.
They don’t come back for us.
“You’re gonna get sunburned,” Gabriel says, interrupting my nap. “You’re too pale from being indoors for years.”
I raise my middle finger up over my head to flip him off.
“Seriously. Come get under the canopy, Ian.”
“If I’d had a mother actually stick around when I was growing up, you would probably sound just the fuck like her,” I huff.
“Your mom skipped out on you?” he asks. “You’ve never really talked about your family before.”
“Not much to say,” I reply. “My mom left my dad and I to start a new family when I was barely out of diapers.”
“Fuck. I’m sorry,” Gabe says. “What about your dad? Are you and him still close? Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
“Oh, yeah, I’ve got a younger sister,” I sneer. “Much younger. In fact, I was around nineteen when she was born.”
“Really? Your dad got remarried?”
“No. He knocked up Nikki, my girlfriend at the time.”
“Jesus Christ!” Gabe exclaims. “Are you joking?”
“I wish I was, boy scout.”
“That’s seriously fucked up,” he replies.
“My father is seriously fucked up.”
“What did you do when you found out?” he asks.
Finally getting to my feet and moving out of the sun, into the shade of the canopy since my skin is heating up, I sit down and lie back on the cool sand, propping my hands behind my head. “I fucked him up,” I finally respond to his question with a grin. “That’s how I got my very first felony conviction.”
“Guess the two of you aren’t on great terms now?” Gabe asks as he gets off the cooler to stretch out next to me on his back.
“No, we’re not. I haven’t seen that abusive bastard since the day I found out,” I tell him. “But I’ve talked to Nikki a few times over the years. Her and his kid are good.”
“I’m sorry,” Gabe says, rolling to his side to face me. “That couldn’t have been easy to deal with, being betrayed by your girlfriend and your dad, your mom walking out on you. No wonder you won’t let anyone in. You’re afraid you’ll get screwed over again.”
“What the hell does that mean?” I snap while glaring over at him.
“Nothing,” he says. “It’s just, I shouldn’t be angry at you. All this is my fault really, not yours.”
“What do you mean? I thought Quincey was responsible for orchestrating it all, leaving us here.”