Leaving Home

by Chase, T. A.

  ranch with him, and they would see what Chaz wanted to do after he’d cleaned up and

  rested.

  Crazy idea. He could hear Max’s voice in his head, telling him not to take Chaz home. It would be better to take Chaz to the nearest hotel and let him fend for himself than to bring him to where he lived.

  You don’t even know who he really is, Peter. He could be a thief, or worse. Peter pursed his lips as they walked. Max’s voice might be right. Chaz could be a thief or a killer, yet

  everything in Peter’s gut told him the man was a danger only to himself.

  “Chaz, what do you do for a living? Underneath all the grime, it looks like you’ve taken

  care of yourself. If you’re homeless, you haven’t been for long.” Peter kept talking, not knowing if Chaz could hear him or not. “I could look at your wallet, but I think I’ll wait until we get to the ranch for that.”

  He managed to get his keys out of his pocket without letting go of Chaz. Clicking the

  button, he got it unlocked before they reached it. He shook Chaz enough for him to focus on Peter.

  “I need you to stand right here. Somehow keep upright. I have to get the door open,

  then you can get in.” He waited until he got a slight nod before he stepped away.

  Peter didn’t think he’d ever moved so fast in his life. He opened the back door, then

  cleaned the seat off. He grabbed Chaz’s arm to pull him close to the car.

  “Get in.”

  Chaz managed to crawl in, then curled into a foetal position. His pasty skin glistened

  with sweat.

  “If you throw up in my car, I’m going to be pissed off,” Peter commented, shutting the

  door.

  As he walked around the front of the car, he got his phone out and dialled the ranch’s

  number.

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  LEAVING HOME T.A. Chase 13

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, Margie, it’s Peter. I wanted to let you know I’m on my way home, and I’m

  bringing someone with me.” He climbed into the driver’s seat while he spoke to her.

  “You know you’re always welcome to bring home friends. Master Les wouldn’t mind at

  all.” He could hear the smile in her voice.

  “Well, he isn’t really a friend. Just some guy who needs some help. I didn’t want to

  leave him alone, so I thought I’d let him crash for a little while.”

  Margie was silent for a moment, then she said, “All right. Dinner will be ready when

  you get back.”

  “Thanks, Margie. I’ll see you in about twenty minutes.”

  After Peter hung up, he tossed the phone onto the seat next to him. He waited a few

  seconds before starting the car. He couldn’t help wondering if he was doing the right thing.

  He’d seen too many horror movies that started with the good guy taking a stranger home,

  and the stranger turning out to be some psycho serial killer.

  He glanced over his shoulder at where Chaz lay curled on the seat. So often he’d heard

  Les and Randy telling him to go with his gut feeling. Everything he was feeling about Chaz told Peter the man wasn’t dangerous to him.

  After pulling away from the kerb, Peter headed towards the ranch. Only time would

  tell whether taking Chaz home was a bad decision or not.

  Twenty minutes later, Peter parked the car outside the main house. He climbed out,

  then stood and stared at the building. It was a nondescript, stereotypical ranch house with white siding and blue shutters. There was a porch on the front, and there was a matching one at the back. Les had expanded the master suite a few years ago.

  There was nothing remarkable about the house, yet Peter knew it was home to the most

  wonderful couple he’d ever met. Also, it had been his home for the last several years. It went to show that the plainest packaging could hide marvellous things.

  “Are you coming in, Peter?”

  Glancing over at Margie, he smiled. “Yes, ma’am. I just have to get my friend.

  Ummm…”

  He hesitated at the passenger door. Was this the best decision he could have made? He

  probably should’ve called T or David to come and help him. They would’ve known what to

  do that didn’t involve Chaz being brought into the house.

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  LEAVING HOME T.A. Chase 14

  He hated the fact that Les and Randy weren’t around. Neither were Tony and Brody.

  Both couples had gone to Germany to watch Juan, Tony’s nephew, compete in some big

  horse show. It wouldn’t have been so bad if Max still worked for Tony, but he’d quit to move to Austin with his partner, and Peter couldn’t blame him for that. Heck, every man deserved happiness when they discovered it.

  Before he could open the door, Chaz burst through it to drop to his knees in the middle

  of the driveway, and throw up. Peter didn’t know what to do, so he stood there, grimacing as Chaz crumpled to the side, moaning.

  “I’ll go and start a shower in the guest bathroom. Bring your friend in when he’s

  ready,” Margie said from where she stood on the porch.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  He watched her stroll back into the house then turned to look at Chaz. With a disgusted

  grunt, Peter walked over to where Chaz lay groaning and clutching his stomach.

  “Come on. We have to get you inside. Once you get out of those wretched clothes and

  take a shower, I’m sure you’ll feel better.”

  Not that Peter knew anything about withdrawal or anything like that. But he knew

  when he was sick he liked being clean best of all.

  “I’ll be fine. Just give me my pills, and it’ll be okay.” Chaz held out his shaking hand.

  Peter shook his head. “I don’t think so. Your problem is from these things. Seems to me

  you’d know better than to take any more of them.”

  “Whatever.” Chaz shrugged, letting his hand drop. “If I could just clean up, I’ll be out

  of your hair.”

  “You can spend the night, and I’ll take you back to town so we can find your vehicle.”

  Chaz didn’t answer him, just braced his hands on the ground to push himself up onto

  his feet. “Take me to a bathroom.”

  The command in Chaz’s voice irritated him. Peter led the way onto the porch then

  stopped instead of opening the door. He looked intently at Chaz, hoping to make Chaz

  understand how important what he was about to say was.

  “I’m trusting that you won’t be rude to Margie. This is more her house than mine, and I

  warn you, if you are rude or mean to her, I’ll throw you out on your ass. You’ll have to find your own way back to Cheyenne.”

  Chaz rolled his eyes, and Peter poked him in the chest.

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  “I’m not joking with you, Chaz. This isn’t my house, but the people who do own it are

  some of my closest friends, and I won’t allow you to do anything to hurt them.”

  What Peter didn’t expect was Chaz gripping his hand before pressing it flat against his

  chest. His heart skipped a beat at how warm and muscular Chaz’s chest felt under his T-

  shirt. He stared up into Chaz’s bottle green eyes and saw a hint of sincerity underneath the drug-induced glaze.

  “Peter, I promise that I’ll be as polite as can be when I meet Margie. I might not be at

  my best, but my mother raised me the right way. I know you don’t know me, and I

  appreciate that you’re risking a lot to welcome me into your house.” Chaz frowned. “I need a place to stay for a few weeks. I have a problem. I’ll admit it, but I want to overcome it.”


  “Admitting you have a problem is the first step to recovery. Isn’t that what they say?”

  Peter thought about tugging his hand away. Something held his hand there, and it wasn’t

  Chaz.

  “I suppose so.”

  “Maybe you should go to a rehab centre. We’re not really equipped to deal with your

  problems.” Part of Peter wanted to slap his hand over his mouth to keep him from talking

  Chaz into leaving. The other part knew he was telling the truth.

  Chaz shook his head. “Nah. Can’t do rehab, and my problem isn’t that bad. I just need a

  couple weeks to clean up before I head out for my job.”

  Peter didn’t believe Chaz was being entirely honest, yet he couldn’t call the man on his

  lies. They weren’t friends, or even really acquaintances.

  Before Peter could say anything else, Margie opened the door. She looked Chaz over,

  her knowing eyes seeing everything. Probably more than Chaz would want her to see.

  “Were you two coming in or are you going to spend all of your time on the porch?

  There’s a hose on the left side of the house. You could wash off outside if you don’t want to come in.”

  “Hello, I’m Charles O’Brien, but friends call me Chaz. Thank you for opening your

  home to me. I’d love to come in. Peter and I were finished discussing some issues.”

  Margie shook Chaz’s outstretched hand, then stepped back to allow him inside. Peter

  followed him, stopping just inside the door to slip his boots off. Chaz spied him doing that, and did so as well.

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  “Peter, take Chaz to the blue guest suite. I put out some of Randy’s old clothes. I think they should fit Chaz just fine. After you do that, wash your hands and come to the kitchen.

  Dinner will be ready in ten minutes.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  They padded down the hallway to the right of the foyer. Two guest suites had been

  added to the house, since they never knew who would be stopping by or who might need a

  place to stay for a little while. He went to the door on the left of the hall, opening it when he got there.

  “Here’s your room. It has a bathroom attached, so you don’t have to worry about

  sharing it with anyone. There’ll be clean towels, and new toiletries on the counter. At least, I’m assuming Margie would have put them there.”

  He watched Chaz walk into the room, trying very hard not to let his gaze drop below

  the man’s waist. He shouldn’t be checking Chaz out. Obviously the man had more issues

  than Peter wanted to deal with.

  What was he thinking? How could he be interested in a druggie? Peter had been

  attracted to other men, but he’d never had the inclination to do anything about it. Which was why Peter was still a sexual novice at the ripe old age of thirty.

  “When you’re done cleaning up, you can come join us in the kitchen and get something

  to eat. Margie will have made plenty. Or you can get some rest.”

  Peter shut the door behind him and took a deep breath before heading to the kitchen

  where he knew Margie was waiting to ask him a ton of questions that he couldn’t answer

  about Chaz.

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  Chapter Two

  Chaz stood under the water, letting it pound on his muscles and wash away the grime.

  Jesus Christ! He was a complete idiot. Why hadn’t he stayed put at his hotel after he’d taken those pills? If he’d stayed, then none of this shit would’ve happened.

  He wouldn’t be standing in a stranger’s guest shower, cleaning off days of grime, sweat

  and vomit. Also, he’d still have the rest of the pills that Peter guy had taken. Chaz had never been so stupid before, and that scared him. When had his problem become so bad that he’d

  lost track of his life?

  He banged his forehead against the tiles of the shower, and winced when the pain from

  his neck rocketed down his back. Fuck! He really needed some of those pills, but it was going to take some smooth talking, or searching, to find them.

  The season was starting up soon, and he needed to get back into fighting shape. After

  turning off the water, he climbed out and towelled off. He brushed his teeth, then wandered out into the bedroom. All his dirty clothes were gone from where he’d dropped them. Chaz

  grimaced at the thought of anyone touching them.

  He’d never got so bad before that he couldn’t keep himself clean. He’d really lost track

  of time while he was on vacation. He couldn’t believe it. As he slowly dressed, he managed to ignore the pain. He’d lived with it for the past three years. He could go a little longer until he needed another pill.

  He slid on some socks before padding down the hallway towards the main part of the

  house. Chaz heard voices coming from the back, and he made his way there. Peter and

  Margie were sitting at a table, quietly talking. The smell of sauce and garlic bread caused his stomach to growl.

  Margie looked at him, motioning to one of the chairs. “Sit, young man. From the sounds

  of your stomach, you’ve missed a meal or two.”

  Ducking his head, Chaz shuffled over to the chair. He flopped into it, keeping his gaze

  on the table. Margie reminded him of his grandmother, and Nona never took shit from

  anyone. It was best to be respectful to her, or else he’d be feeling the flat of her hand.

  He jumped when Peter poked him in the arm. “What?”

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  LEAVING HOME T.A. Chase 18

  “Are you feeling better?” Peter’s voice was smooth and soft. Very different from the

  men Chaz usually heard on the circuit.

  “Yes. That shower was the best thing. Where are my clothes?” Chaz put the napkin on

  his lap, then picked up a fork.

  “They’re in the washer. Everything that was in them is on the dresser in your room.”

  Margie set a full plate of spaghetti in front of him. “There are pieces of garlic bread in the basket in front of you. What would you like to drink?”

  “Milk if you have some, ma’am.” Chaz took a bite of food, moaning as the spices

  exploded on his tongue.

  Peter smiled, and Chaz blinked. The open expression on Peter’s face surprised Chaz.

  Maybe he was too suspicious, and he was fine admitting that some of that came from having to buy his drugs on the street. It tended to make one paranoid.

  Yet these people had opened their house to him, even though the only thing they knew

  about him was that he’d been high, and had been on the streets for a day or two. He pinched the bridge of his nose. Thank God that he wasn’t a bad man, just one in a lot of pain at times, so they didn’t have to worry about him taking advantage of them.

  The phone rang as Margie set his glass in front of him. Peter stood to go and answer it.

  While he was doing that, Chaz continued to eat.

  “Hello, Les. How are you and the others doing?” Peter propped his hip against the

  counter. “Good to hear. Margie and I are fine. Everything’s running well here on the ranch as well.”

  He chuckled. “Jackson called me earlier today. Gave me the orders for the next couple

  of days. Yes, I’m fine with handling the ranch while you’re gone.”

  Chaz cleaned his plate, then sat back while Margie dished out another few scoops. He

  looked around the kitchen, finding he liked how he felt in it. The room was very modern,

  with stainless steel appliances and granite countertops. Obviously no expense had been

  spared in creating this kitchen.


  “Oh, I wanted to let you know I have a friend staying here for the night. His name is

  Charles O’Brien.” Peter paused, and Chaz could feel Peter’s gaze on his back. “I met him in Cheyenne, and offered him a room.”

  Margie hummed softly, and Chaz dropped his gaze to his plate. He felt like shit. Almost

  like he was taking advantage of Peter, yet he wasn’t taking anything from the man except a

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  LEAVING HOME T.A. Chase 19

  little hospitality. He really didn’t think he’d stay any longer than tomorrow. Once he got his truck, he’d head down towards Oklahoma, where the first event coming off the break would

  be.

  “I will. Have fun and tell all the guys I said hi. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Bye.” Peter hung up before returning to the table. “Les and Randy say hello, Margie. They’re having a good time, and Juan is doing pretty good at the show.”

  “That’s good to hear. I’m glad they were all able to go visit him.” Margie refilled Peter’s plate, then poured more milk for both of them. “I’m going to start cleaning up. Why don’t you take Chaz into the living room when you’re done?”

  “Are you sure you don’t need any help?” Chaz asked, remembering his manners.

  “I’m fine, Chaz. You look done in, so you can rest tonight. I’m sure you can clean up the kitchen tomorrow morning after breakfast.” Margie started filling the sink.

  Chaz and Peter ate their rest of their food in silence. Chaz yawned as he set his fork

  down. Draining his glass of milk, he concluded that Margie’s spaghetti had been the best

  he’d eaten in a long time. Of course, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten, so it might not mean much.

  After carrying their plates to the sink, Chaz followed Peter into the living room. Peter

  dropped into an oversized armchair. Chaz took the couch, lying down with a sigh. The

  cushions seemed to cradle his back, though his neck was at an uncomfortable angle.

  “Oh wait. I’ll get you a pillow.”

  He watched as Peter jumped to his feet and disappeared down the hallway. Chaz heard

  a door open, then shut, and a minute later Peter rejoined him, carrying a pillow.