Deserted: Book #3, Auctioned Series

by Dee, Cara

  “Our country is beautiful, Jayden. No two states are the same. I think you will have a great adventure, and I can’t wait for you to call me to tell me about everything you see.”

  But there was one more thing Gray wanted to do before they left Philadelphia.

  They stopped near a small park, and Gray headed to the nearest bench, where he hid the chip-like thing on the ground. Then he returned to the truck and found parking far enough away that they’d created some distance, while still keeping the bench in his view.

  “What are we doing?” Jayden wondered.

  Gray reached back for a bag of snacks he’d picked up at 7-Eleven and handed Jayden a soda. “Pick a snack. We might be here for a while.”

  Jayden chose a chocolate bar.

  “I want to see if a friend of mine has been following me.” Gray chose his words carefully so he wouldn’t scare Jayden.

  Man, it better be a friend. It better be Darius.

  “It’s a stakeout?” Jayden asked.

  Gray smirked. “Yeah. A stakeout.”

  And stakeouts were incredibly fucking boring.

  They lasted an hour before Jayden was getting restless.

  “Can I go over there?” He pointed to a run-down playground across the gravel path in the little park. “You’ll see me. I just wanna see if there are any worms in the sandbox.”

  To be eight again…

  Gray hesitated. He didn’t want to let Jayden go that far. The kid had already done more for Gray than he had for Jayden, and failure was not an option. He was going to keep Jayden safe, and if someone was, in fact, following them, it ended here. At the same time, he couldn’t blame Jayden for wanting to get out of the truck. They’d been sitting here doing nothing for over an hour.

  Maybe Gray should invest in an iPad. Endless hours on the road might get easier if Jayden had some movies to watch.

  “We can compromise,” he decided. “We’ll both go over there for a little bit.”

  “Okay,” Jayden said happily and tied his scarf. “How long—”

  He was interrupted by a knock on the driver’s side window. Gray whipped his head to his left, and shock tore through him for a quick second. I fucking knew it! Anger flooded him, drowning out the small voice that cried out with relief—and, fucking hell, yearning. A beat later, he pushed the door open and got out of the truck.

  Darius stepped back and lifted a brow. “Looking for someone?”

  “I knew it was you,” Gray whisper-yelled furiously. “Why the fuck would you follow me?”

  Darius remained infuriatingly casual and composed, not to mention drop-dead gorgeous. He drove Gray batshit crazy in all ways imaginable.

  He hated it.

  “Never mind, you don’t have to answer.” Gray clenched his jaw and suppressed a growl. “You don’t trust me. That’s why. You don’t think I can fend for myself.”

  “Are you done?”

  That voice. The impact it had on Gray hadn’t changed for shit. That low timbre, the richness…

  Gray’s fury grew, but he wasn’t always sure who it was directed at. Darius or his own weaknesses.

  Then he let out a humorless chuckle when he thought of the letter Darius had left him. About respecting his wishes, about knowing better than to ask Gray to turn around… No wonder. There was no need to ask Gray to return, because Darius hadn’t actually left his side.

  Darius folded his arms over his chest, his leather jacket straining around his shoulders and biceps. “If I didn’t trust you, I would’ve barged in the second you met up with a well-known mobster. If I didn’t trust you, Gray, I would’ve intervened before you let Kellan fucking Ford into your hotel room.”

  That sucked the air out of Gray’s lungs. “You’ve really been watching my every move, haven’t you?”

  He inclined his head.

  “And let me guess, you’ve checked up on everyone I’ve interacted with by using your super-secret spy sources,” Gray bit out, sarcasm lacing his tone.

  For some reason, that made Darius’s mouth twist upward slightly. “Christ, you’re young sometimes, knucklehead.”

  Anger won out, and Gray shoved hard at Darius’s chest. “Fuck off.”

  Darius recovered quickly and planted a hand on Gray’s shoulder, pushing him against the door of the truck, but he maintained his arm-length distance. “Get a fucking grip,” he told a glaring Gray. “I’m just saying I’ve been around a minute, and I know who runs Philly. It took a damn internet search to find Ford.”

  Before Gray could respond, Darius suddenly backed off with a pinched expression, and he growled a vicious curse.

  “That’s right!” Jayden yelled. “I got more where that came from, son!”

  Gray watched in horror as Jayden crawled up from underneath the truck, his coat all muddied from the wet ground. Holy fuck. He’d jammed something into Darius’s calf. A knife. A small pocketknife. It was lodged in his leg, through his jeans.

  Darius stood bent over, hands on his thighs, and sucked in a sharp breath.

  “Go’way!” Jayden shouted.

  “Jayden!” Gray snapped into action at long last and got down on one knee before the boy. “It’s okay, buddy. It’s okay. He’s all right.”

  Jayden huffed and glared at Darius. “You was fighting. He pushed you.”

  Oh Christ. Gray didn’t know what to say. Unable to stop himself, he rose up and hugged Jayden to him. He couldn’t even be mad that an eight-year-old had felt the need to protect him. Okay, it was a bit frustrating, he couldn’t lie, but given Jayden’s lifestyle up until now… There were some habits that were going to be tough to break.

  “Friends fight sometimes,” he reasoned with Jayden. “We need a new rule. No more knives.”

  “That’s going a bit far,” Darius interjected with a groan as he straightened. He was definitely in pain. “But maybe less stabbing. Fuck.” He released a breath and grimaced as he glanced down at his leg. “Gray, I need you to head over to my car and grab the first aid kit in my duffel.” He reached into the pocket of his jeans and produced a key. “It’s the black Chevy at the end of the row.”

  “Okay.” Gray didn’t need to ask Jayden to come with him; the boy plastered himself to Gray and followed.

  “Are you sure he’s a friend?” he asked dubiously.

  “I’m sure.” Gray smoothed down Jayden’s hair. “His name is Darius. He’s saved my life more than once. He saved Jonas too—before we were outnumbered.”

  “Fuck.” Jayden appeared stricken for a second. “Do you think he will forgive me?”

  “Absolutely.”

  They located Darius’s Florida rental, and Gray unlocked the car to grab the kit. Typical Darius. Always prepared. Who the hell traveled with a first aid kit? He’d understand it if it’d been Darius’s own car. But this was a kit he’d put together recently. The pouch was new.

  Back home, Mom had an impressive first aid kit in her car, but she had four sons, three of whom played hockey. Someone was always injured.

  Shit. Gray came across a Glock in the duffel and quickly covered it with one of Darius’s T-shirts. Then he closed the door and locked up again.

  “Let’s tend to our patient,” he said.

  They found Darius in the same spot, though now he was busy cutting up a part of his jeans with another knife.

  “That’s a big knife,” Jayden whispered. “Mine aren’t that big.”

  “You have more than one?” Gray asked in disbelief.

  He held up four fingers.

  Wonderful.

  Darius chuckled through a grunt and straightened once more. The fabric he’d cut was still there, attached to the knife stuck in his leg. “All right. Soon as I pull out the blade, you gotta be ready.”

  Gray nodded and opened the truck door so Darius could get comfortable in the back seat. “Get up here and be careful. Leave your leg off the edge. I’d rather not get blood all over the seats.”

  It was bizarre how fast this came back to Gray. It’d becom
e second nature to dress wounds and play nurse.

  “You usually have more sympathy,” Darius noted.

  “Then you put a tracker in my phone,” Gray muttered. While Darius got situated, Gray glanced around to make sure they hadn’t attracted too much attention. But either the area was dead, or the people of Philadelphia—the few who passed, anyway—weren’t interested.

  “I’m sorry for stabbing you,” Jayden mumbled.

  “Don’t worry about it, kid.” Darius winced as he leaned forward and gripped the knife. “You got a good technique, I’ll give you that.” He lifted his gaze to Gray. “You ready?”

  “Hold on.” Gray squatted down and dug through the kit. With no water around, he went with a bottle of sodium chloride solution and a couple antiseptic wipes for cleaning the laceration. “Jayden, you don’t need to see this.”

  “I’m not scared of some blood,” he retorted.

  “Of course you’re not.” Gray suppressed a sigh and handed over the kit to him instead. “Then you can hold this for me.”

  If anything, Jayden was happy to help.

  The second Darius withdrew the knife from his leg, blood started seeping out. Gray was there in an instant, and he pressed two cotton balls to the cut. Then he tore off the plastic lid of the sodium chloride solution with his teeth and poured the liquid over the cotton, effectively soaking the wound.

  Darius hissed and inspected the knife after wiping it across his thigh. “At least there’s no rust.”

  “Stay still,” Gray ordered. While holding the cotton in place, he discarded the empty bottle on the ground and gestured for Jayden to come closer. Then he picked out a sterile dressing and asked Darius to open the packet.

  It was bleeding quite heavily, but it couldn’t be a deep wound. The blade of the little pocketknife was maybe two inches and very thin.

  “That’s so cool,” Jayden whispered.

  Darius flashed a quick smirk.

  Gray refocused on the wound, wishing Darius’s leg were more elevated. With the blood still trickling out, it was impossible to see if any dirt or fabric had gotten stuck in there. No, this would have to do for now. He’d check it later, assuming Darius was now joining them for part of the trip.

  After using the antiseptic wipes, Gray covered the laceration with the dressing, then dug out a roll of bandage to wrap around Darius’s calf. Lastly, he finished with a roll of tape.

  “That was more excitement than I signed up for today,” he commented and stood up.

  “You’re a natural.” Darius checked the dressing.

  “Don’t butter me up. I’m still mad.” And now he had blood all over his hands; it was cold, and it had started to rain. And snow. Fuck this noise. “You’re not fit to drive.”

  Darius frowned and slid out of the car, keeping most of his weight off his bad leg. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  Gray didn’t bother answering. He should’ve known better than to discuss rhyme or reason with a man who scoffed at getting shot.

  “I’m bringing Jayden to Camassia,” he said instead.

  “Perfect,” Darius replied. “I’ll drop off my rental, and then we can meet up outside the city. I’ll cab it there.”

  “Do I have a choice?” Gray asked tiredly. He knew the answer.

  “No.” Darius wiped off the knife again, then snapped it shut and extended it to Jayden. “This is gonna be a good story to tell people one day, kid.”

  Jayden smiled timidly and pocketed the knife. He handed the first aid kit back to Darius.

  This was rapidly becoming too much for Gray. The frustrations kept building up, and the feeling of being suffocated was returning. Dammit, he wanted to be alone. After saying he wanted a minute alone with Darius, he asked Jayden to get back in the truck.

  Deep breaths.

  An icy wind blew past them.

  Darius retrieved his smokes and lit one up.

  “I don’t want company, Darius.” He was honest. He had to be.

  “I know.” Darius took a drag and exhaled the smoke through his nose. “You wanna get lost in this little bubble you’re creating with Jonas’s brother.”

  Gray averted his gaze. Inside the truck, Jayden was busy buckling his seat belt.

  “You don’t have to be on the move to be running, knucklehead,” Darius murmured. “I know all too well what it’s like to cling to someone innocent and hope they’ll show you that humanity is worth saving.”

  Those words slashed through Gray, and he realized the truth of them. It was exactly what was happening. He was turning Jayden into his special project. One he wanted to take care of and protect from the horrors of the world.

  “Have you done that?” he asked quietly.

  Darius nodded with a dip of his chin. “With you.”

  Oh.

  “It broke my heart when you said that the world was ugly, that the bad guys always win,” he said. “Remember?”

  Of course Gray remembered. It was mere days ago he’d taken Darius to the beach and all the guys had held a memorial of sorts for those they’d lost.

  What Gray had said, that the world was ugly and that he hated mankind, was true.

  He needed someone who could prove him wrong.

  He wanted to be wrong.

  So, Darius had done the same…? That stung. It made sense, but it stung.

  It explained one of the reasons—maybe even the biggest one—why Darius had been drawn to Gray, something he hadn’t been able to understand. Until now.

  He exhaled a little laugh at his own stupidity.

  “What’s funny?” Darius furrowed his brow.

  And Gray’s non-humor died. “Absolutely nothing.” He had to get away. Stat. “Go return your rental. We’ll follow. It’s stupid to take a cab anywhere.”

  It should give Gray a few minutes to get his crap together, at least.

  “All right.” Darius looked like he was about to leave, but he changed his mind. “What you’re doing for Jayden is fucking amazing, Gray. I didn’t mean to diminish that. I’m just telling you straight up that I won’t let you avoid your own trauma.”

  Sure, whatever.

  Hours later, Gray received a longer breather when Darius was asleep in the back seat and Jayden was dozing off in the passenger’s seat.

  They’d gotten a late start, not leaving Philadelphia until after lunchtime, but Gray still wanted to reach Cleveland before calling it a day.

  Too much had happened today for Gray to process much of it. He’d gone numb at the moment, and he savored it. Numbness allowed him to just focus on the driving and enjoy the silence. Not that it stopped him from glancing at Darius in the rearview every five freaking minutes, but whatever.

  Gray had always been a worrier when it came to people he cared about. Sometimes, he bordered on being a fusser. Mom liked to point it out with a touch to his cheek. She’d struggled a lot financially over the years—single mother of four boys and then the inn she owned and operated by herself. In the toughest times, she hadn’t been able to afford a staff. She’d almost run herself ragged. Gray and his brothers had helped out on the weekends and during breaks, but it hadn’t stopped Gray from worrying. It wasn’t until a couple years ago that the inn became profitable to the extent that Mom could relax a bit more. These days, she even had a day off every week. Meeting Aiden had helped too. He was good at putting down his foot when she took on too much work.

  It was similar with Abel. Gray firmly believed he had the best friend in the world in Abel, but the guy knew how to make Gray fret. With his bipolar disorder, occasional depression, moments of being hyper and tireless, and anxiety, Abel required a whole other approach. Gray had him figured out, though. He knew how to be there for his friend. And nowadays, since Abel had gotten together with Madigan, Gray had been able to loosen up a bit.

  Now there were two new people he couldn’t stop worrying about.

  Jayden had been his own provider and protection; he’d lived on the fucking streets, and he was only eight years old. It d
idn’t take any psychology classes to figure out that Gray was not equipped to be the best support for the boy. Jayden would require professional help, and it would take time before he lowered his defenses and trusted the people around him.

  Gray lifted his gaze to the rearview and smashed his lips together. He didn’t want to think about his attachment to Darius, but it really ticked him off that Darius wouldn’t elevate his leg farther right now. Fucking bastard. He’d twisted his body a bit to lean against the door and rest his bad leg on the seat, though that was nowhere near “keep the wound elevated above your heart.”

  Gray suppressed a sigh and returned his focus to the highway.

  Craig entered his mind only because Gray wanted to find a way to compare feelings—the feelings he’d had, and the ones he had now—and more than that, he wanted those feelings to be gone. And despite the clusterfuck Craig had put him through, that time had been easier. Hopeless teenager falling for his closeted, married hockey coach—Christ. For years, Gray had been in love with Craig, and all they’d shared was a stolen kiss. Then all this happened. Gray went through hell, and he met Darius. He’d shared something with Darius, an experience, that no one else would ever understand.

  For always having felt like he’d been good at reading his own heart and being in tune with his emotions, Gray found himself beyond lost now.

  He knew it wasn’t love. He wasn’t in love with Darius.

  At the same time, he also knew now that he’d never been in love with Craig.

  Maybe it didn’t matter. Maybe the overwhelming connection Gray felt with Darius didn’t matter because it was something they had to work past. They’d clung to each other like idiots in Florida. Gray had hidden with his savior, and Darius had latched on to Gray because he wanted to see innocence in the world.

  Unfortunately, that innocence was gone.

  They stopped for dinner at a roadside steakhouse just north of Pittsburgh.

  The place was packed with as many suburban families as truck drivers, and the walls were plastered with everything from John Deere signs and license plates to newspaper headlines and Penguins memorabilia.

  Jayden requested fried chicken tenders with mac and cheese, after which Gray added a side order of “seasonal vegetables” for him that made Jayden scrunch his nose. But someone had to make sure the boy ate better. For himself, Gray ordered chicken—not fried—with a large salad. And obviously, Darius wanted a big steak.