Rory clasped Chance’s hand and sat beside him on the couch. “I don’t blame you, Chance, but you can’t just…you can’t just do something like this. I don’t need revenge, but I do need you. And together, we need to take logical steps to prevent Art from doing anything like this again.”
“And what would those logical steps be?” Chance was getting a bad feeling about this.
Rory rolled his head against the back of the couch and looked at him. “We need proof.
He took pictures, I doubt he got rid of them. They’d be his trophies, right?”
Chance’s stomach heaved. He didn’t want anyone seeing those pictures of Rory being violated and used. That was what Rory was talking about though, wasn’t it?
“What happens if we manage to get those pictures, and pictures of whoever else Art’s,”—Chance couldn’t push the word ‘raped’ past his lips—“hurt?”
Rory shuddered then stiffened beside him. “Then, I guess, we…we have to go to the police, don’t we? Or should we do that first?”
At least Rory wasn’t talking about doing this alone, Chance thought. He shouldn’t have tried to handle it by himself, either, but he’d been so angry…
“I don’t know if there’s a statute of limitations,” Chance mused, “and if we contact the police, do you think they’re going to take us seriously? Or will they go out and do a half-assed interview and give Art a heads-up, inadvertent or not?”
RORY’S LAST CHANCE
Bailey Bradford
100
Rory huffed, a sound of pure irritation slipping from his lips. “Yeah, I guess they wouldn’t just take my word for it and break down his door to find proof. If they even believed me, they’d want to interview him, and then Art would have an opportunity to dispose of any proof he had.”
“That’s what I was afraid of.” Chance thought his original plan to just beat Art into a vegetative state was sounding like a winner once again.
Rory sat up straight and patted Chance’s shoulder. “We need to find out where the pictures are, then contact the police. But how can either of us do that? I can’t step foot on the ranch, and I can guarantee you won’t be allowed on it, either.”
“We need to talk to Annabelle,” Chance said, thinking out loud. He jerked Rory back down to the couch and waved his hand when Rory started to speak. “Not to have her go looking, but she might be able to give us an idea of Art’s schedule, and maybe we can figure out a time and a way I can look for those pictures.”
Rory looked like he was about to protest, his eyebrows knitting together and his lips tipping down in a frown. He grumbled then looked at Chance. “Okay, I see your point, and I know why you want to be the one to sneak onto the ranch—that way, I’m not violating Ian’s edicts. I just… I don’t like the idea of you being in Art’s place by yourself.”
“We could ask Bo to go along after all,” Chance said, not too keen on the idea, because they’d have to confide in Bo. It wasn’t a matter of trust, but a matter of not wanting his lover to have to go through the telling of it again.
“We could,” Rory agreed. “He would be able to keep an eye out while you looked.
Guess it’s a good enough plan for now.”
Good enough was probably the best they could come up with. Chance stopped Rory in the hall, gently pushing him up against the wall. Rory gave him a steady look; Chance couldn’t detect any nervousness at the prospect of talking to Bo in his lover’s eyes.
“You sure this is what you want to do?” Chance knew the answer before he even finished asking the question.
“It’s what I need to do,” Rory clarified. “And that’s why I want to do it.”
Chance nodded. He wouldn’t argue with his lover; Rory knew his own mind, and Chance knew his lover’s strength. But more importantly, he knew this man’s heart, and as he closed his eyes and opened himself for Rory’s kiss, Chance clung to that knowledge as surely as his lips clung to Rory’s.
RORY’S LAST CHANCE
Bailey Bradford
101
Chapter Sixteen
Annabelle hadn’t like their plan to sneak onto the Mossy Glenn, and she’d had no qualms about letting Rory know it. When she reluctantly agreed to help, he should have been suspicious. His sister had always been every bit as stubborn, if not more so, than he was.
Still, neither him or Chance had a clue that she would take matters into her own hands.
Rory lifted his hat and swiped a forearm across his brow to keep the sweat from running into his eyes. Dropping the hat back in place, he looked at the barbed wire fence.
The wire was stretched taut and the repair was made. Rory stood up and was strolling over to Rama when his cell rang. He pulled the phone from the clip on his belt and saw Annabelle’s number. Rory flipped the phone open and brought it to his ear.
“Hey, sis, what’s up?”
“Rory…I found them.” Annabelle’s voice was thick with tears. Rory frowned; Annabelle wasn’t a crier.
“Sis, what’s wrong? You found what?”
“The p-pictures.” A sob came across the line as shock stopped Rory in his tracks at the realisation of what pictures his sister had to be talking about.
“Jesus, Annabelle.” Rory pushed a hand against his stomach, trying to shove down the wave of nausea that hit him. “Don’t look at them! Just get out of Dad’s office and—”
“I’m not in Dad’s office!”
“Then where—” Rory’s mouth snapped shut. “Are you in Art’s bunk house?” Please, God, he prayed silently, let her say no.
“Yes. I had to, after you told me.” Annabelle’s voice was now as shaky as her breath. “I won’t let him get away with it!”
Rory closed his eyes, fighting to stay rational when panic kept trying to take over. “Get out of there. Leave everything and get the fuck out of there, Annabelle.”
“No. He isn’t even here; he drove Daddy to town.”
Rory could hear the rustling of papers over the phone. “God! Rory, he has dozens of pictures—not just of you. There’s several men, and he’s…he’s—” Annabelle’s breath hitched.
“Please.” Rory’s legs gave out and his butt hit the ground. “Annabelle, please quit RORY’S LAST CHANCE
Bailey Bradford
102
looking and get out of there.” Oh God, were any of those men Chance?
“I think I should call the police, Rory. There’s plenty of pictures with him in them, and there’s writing on some of them. Names and…and evil notes.”
“Stop, please.” Rory watched as sweat dripped from his cheek to the dirt. “Those pictures don’t prove anything—the police would need proof that they weren’t consensual.
Art isn’t going to confess, and a lot of his victims probably won’t want to testify, either.” He knew he didn’t.
He could hear the sound of a drawer scraping open, then a startled gasp from his sister.
“Women, oh God, Rory, he has pictures of women, too!” A shadow fell across Rory and he looked up to find Chance watching him, a concerned look on his face.
“Annabelle, get out of Art’s room!” Rory pushed himself up and turned away from Chance, unable to deal with the look on his lover’s face and the tension and fear boiling up inside of himself. “Please, if they come back—”
“I told you, they’ve only been gone a few minutes. It will be hours before they come back. And I am not walking away from this.” Annabelle’s voice held a stubborn streak that Rory knew only too well.
“You don’t know that! What if they have to turn back around for some reason? What then?” Rory wouldn’t be able to live with himself if something happened to his sister because he’d been stupid enough to mess around with Art. Chance’s hand gripped Rory’s shoulder and pulled him around. Chance held his other hand out and gestured for the phone.
“Please, baby.” Chance’s eyes held so much tenderness that Rory felt his eyes stinging with tears.
“Annabelle, Chanc
e wants to talk to you, okay?” Rory heard his sister’s swift intake of breath.
“He’s…Chance G, isn’t he? Your boss, Chance Galloway?”
Rory closed his eyes and nodded, whether to Chance or to the question he suddenly didn’t have the voice to answer. Art had obviously kept Chance’s pictures, too.
“Annabelle, this is Chance—” Rory watched Chance pale, though the man didn’t look surprised. “Yeah, the same one. Look, are you sure Art and your dad won’t be back soon?
Rory is very worried about you.”
Rory could hear his sister’s voice but he couldn’t make out her words. He kept his gaze locked with Chance’s as Chance listened to whatever it was Annabelle said.
RORY’S LAST CHANCE
Bailey Bradford
103
“Okay, why don’t you do this? Close everything up, slip out of there and back to your place, then call the police?” Chance’s hand slid from Rory’s shoulder to smooth up and down his back.
Rory was torn—his pride didn’t want anyone else knowing what had happened to him, but to let Art continue…it was unthinkable. His pride was nothing compared to what Art did to people. Rory stepped closer to Chance and wrapped his arm around his lover’s waist.
Chance reciprocated by pressing himself up against Rory’s chest.
“Yes, Annabelle, I would be willing to talk to the police.” Chance looked at Rory and arched his brow. Rory nodded, ignoring the knot of fear in his gut. “Rory will, too, though if we can keep him out of it—”
“No!” Rory shook his head so hard his neck popped. “We can do this, together.” He held Chance’s stare until his lover nodded.
“Yeah, he is a stubborn cuss, but I love him.” Chance chuckled briefly, his face lighting up with laughter as he looked at Rory. “Yes’ ma’am, I do, and I promise to take good care of him for you.” Chance winked and handed Rory the phone.
“Wow, he sounds like a sweetheart.” Annabelle said in a wistful voice. Rory snorted and rolled his eyes at Chance.
“He’s a lot of things, sis, but a sweetheart…“ Rory grinned as Chance pinked up with embarrassment. “Aw, you’re right, he is a sweetheart.” Rory hissed as Chance pinched his butt, hard. He narrowed his eyes at his lover and mouthed ‘payback’.
“You told him I called him a sweetheart? Rory, you ass!” Annabelle’s amused voice made Rory smile. “He’s gonna think I used that term just because he’s gay!”
Rory laughed and nuzzled Chance’s neck. “Did you?” Might as well tease his sister now before all the shit hit the fan.
“No! I said it because it’s true!”
Rory heard the door shut over the phone. “Are you out of there?”
“Yes, I am, and walking up the porch steps to the house right now.” The sound of a screen door slapping shut was carried over the call. “Look, seriously, Rory, I love you, okay?
And I’m sorry, but Art can’t get away with this; there was so many—” Annabelle’s breath hitched again.
“Hey, no, Annabelle, it’s all right.” And it would be, eventually. Rory had to believe that. “You’re right—he has to be stopped, so make that call and then call me back, okay? And RORY’S LAST CHANCE
Bailey Bradford
104
remember that I love you, too, yeah?”
“Okay, I will, to both.” Annabelle took another shuddering breath. “And I’m sorry—
sorry that Art hurt you, and that Daddy is a narrow-minded—”
“Shh! None of it’s your fault, sis, so don’t apologise. Do what needs to be done and call me back.”
“All right.”
Rory hung up the phone and just held Chance to him. He hoped he really was as strong as Chance and Annabelle thought he was.
“Oh fuck,” Rory moaned, his hips bucking as Chance swallowed his dick. He’d been close to a mess after the phone calls from Annabelle and a police detective by the name of Mark Maloney. Recounting his experience with Art and the blurry memories, what there were of them, of the night Art drugged him, had wrung Rory out. Chance had handled his Q
and A session so calmly Rory had felt a pinch of envy. Chance had pointed out that he’d had years to come to terms with it, whereas Rory hadn’t had much time at all.
Chance scraped his teeth lightly up Rory’s cock and Rory quit thinking about anything other than his lover’s mouth sucking him off like a pro. Quick flicks of Chance’s tongue had Rory crying out as his balls drew up tight. Two lube-slicked fingers slammed into his ass and every muscle in Rory’s body clenched as he came. Chance hummed his approval and slurped as he sucked and swallowed, working his fingers fast and hard to loosen Rory’s tight ring.
Rory dug his heels and fingers into the mattress, a keening noise ripping from his throat.
Chance let Rory’s softened cock slip from his lips and pulled his fingers out. Rory didn’t have time to catch his breath before his legs were bent, the tops of his thighs pressed nearly to his chest and Chance was sinking his prick so deep inside him that Rory thought he could taste the man. He tried to pry his fingers loosely from the sheets, but Chance was slamming into him, hitting his prostate with nearly every thrust and Rory couldn’t think, couldn’t get his body to do anything other than writhe as he moaned.
His dick filled back up and he wanted to beg for Chance to touch him but he couldn’t form the words. Every time he opened his mouth to try, Chance thrust in hard enough to have him slide up the bed. Rory finally managed to work his hands free and flung one up to RORY’S LAST CHANCE
Bailey Bradford
105
brace himself against the headboard while the other grasped his dick and started stroking himself furiously.
Chance’s fingers dug into his thighs with a bruising strength that Rory loved. It sent heat skittering from the base of his spine to his balls, then he was screaming as he came again, black dots dancing behind his eyes, in front of his eyes—hell, he didn’t know. He squeezed his ass hard and felt Chance’s cock swell as the man’s head flung back.
A strangled yell came from Chance then Rory felt hot bursts of his lover’s cum squirting into his channel. Chance ground against Rory’s ass as he shook with the force of his orgasm.
He released Rory’s legs, and Rory let them flop down, sprawled wide open as he sat up enough to grab Chance and pull his lover down on top of him.
Rory buried his nose in Chance’s dark hair, breathing in the scent of shampoo, the faint tinge of sweat, and that indefinable scent that was always Chance. He chuckled, thinking that if he and Chance could ever find a way to bottle that scent, they would be two wealthy men.
Chance stirred, pushing himself up on one elbow to look down at him.
“What is so funny? I’m not sure I like the way you’re laughing right after we just had some shout-down-the-walls sex.”
Rory tried to keep a straight face, but seriously failed. “‘Shout-down-the-walls sex?’ I think you melted my brain, boss.”
Chance eyed him for a second then shook his head. “You can speak in sentences—and so can I. We’ll just have to try harder in a few minutes.”
“Now I know you lost some brain cells.” Rory slid his hand down Chance’s back to cup a perfect, taut ass cheek. “I just came twice; I’ll need more than a few minutes until I can go another round.”
“Really?” Chance tucked his hips in, burying his prick deeper inside Rory. Rory’s eyebrows flew up as he felt Chance’s erection bump against his gland. “So what were you laughing about?” Chance moved his hips in a circular motion that had Rory’s eyes trying to cross. And his dick twitching. The things this man could do to him…
A pinch to his hip drew Rory’s attention back to the question.
“Oh! Nothing bad, I swear.” And maybe he should have kept Chance dangling for a while but the way that man could move his hips… Rory bit back a moan as Chance swiveled again. “Just that if we could bottle your scent, we’d be rich.”
Chance stilled and look
ed at Rory like he was nuts. “My scent?”
RORY’S LAST CHANCE
Bailey Bradford
106
Rory nodded, enjoying the confused look on his lover’s face. Actually, Chance looked like he couldn’t decide whether to be offended, confused, or amused. He pulled his dick almost all the way out of Rory’s channel and Rory slapped his hands down on both of Chance’s butt cheeks, digging his fingers into the firm flesh to hold the man in place.
“You smell really, really good.” Rory tried to hold back the smile at Chance’s startled look. The man had jumped when Rory slapped his ass, but that startled look was turning into something else rapidly.
The gleam in Chance’s eye, as well as a small grin on his full lips, made Rory think maybe he shouldn’t have smacked his lover’s ass quite so hard.
“I just didn’t want you to stop,” he offered weakly, excitement at the look on Chance’s face coursing through him.
“Oh really?” Chance reached down and twisted Rory’s nipple ring hard enough that the pleasure-pain made him gasp. Chance did it again to the other nipple, pulling his cock from Rory’s body when Rory’s hands dropped down to clutch at the sheets.
“No,” Rory protested when Chance’s cock left his body.
“Yes.” Chance moved and grabbed Rory. Before Rory knew what happened, he was flipped over and Chance was pulling at his hips. Rory tucked his knees under himself and moaned when Chance penetrated him and began slowly sliding his thick cock into his welcoming passage.
“Chance, please, fuck me already,” Rory pleaded, trying to work in more of Chance’s prick. A stinging slap to his ass didn’t discourage Rory one bit. He tried to rock back and get more of his lover inside him.
“Like that, huh?” Chance’s voice was rough with desire. Rory nodded and another stinging slap landed right on top of the spot the first one hit. He felt his cock leaking and glanced back as best he could at Chance.
“Chance…” Rory almost growled it out. If the man didn’t fuck him soon, Rory was going to—
Love in Xxchange: Rory's Last Chance Page 13