He’d been right; his palms and her ass were a perfect fit. He moved his body with hers, grinding to the beat.
The men around them cheered. “You go, girl,” one said and pulled her out of Niko’s arms, spinning her to dance with him. “Come over here and make me look that good for a second.”
Niko stepped forward, about to protest, but stopped when Carys let out a merry laugh. She put her hands on the guy’s shoulders and danced.
Before he could think about what he was supposed to be doing next, someone grabbed Niko’s arm and spun him around. He tensed, his hand balling into a fist, but then he found himself staring at his best friend.
“Relax, ass,” Jamie said, more teasing than not. “I promise to keep my junk to myself.” He leaned in closer. “I’m using you to make that other pretty boy over there jealous.”
Luckily, Jamie’s face was turned away so he didn’t see Niko’s frown. Other pretty boy?
Whatever. He could be a good wingman. He started to move to the beat again, letting Jamie dance in his general vicinity.
Just as another man was looking like he wanted to come over and try his luck, Carys shoved her way between Niko and Jamie, her back to Niko. She reached back, her hands at his waist, and then her pert bubble butt was bouncing up against him. “This is the sexiest sandwich in the place,” she said, whooping.
Well, hell yes.
After a couple of songs, Niko’s adrenaline was pumping, and he was hard and high and thirsty.
Apparently, Jamie was on the same page. “Come on. This round’s on me, but I need your hands.” He grabbed Niko’s arms and dragged him away from Carys toward the bar.
“I don’t know how you do it, man,” Jamie said, shouting over the noise into Niko’s ear. “What’s a smart girl like that doing with a guy like you, huh? I think you’re the only straight man in the place, so it could just be a matter of availability.”
He cackled, and Niko shook his head. Jamie thought he was hilarious when he was tipsy.
After Jamie ordered for everyone, he pursed his lips. “Oh, my. Look at that.” Niko followed his gaze all the way down the bar. He had no idea if Jamie had a type, but he’d obviously seen something he liked. “Wait for our drinks,” he said, patting Niko’s shoulder absently. “I’ll be right back.”
Niko watched in amusement as Jamie sidled up to a man. The man leaned in as Jamie spoke, and then he laughed.
Smooth mother trucker.
A warm hand at the small of his back startled Niko. He turned, already smiling, expecting to find Carys there. Instead, he was met with the sight of a strange man standing way too close to him.
“Well, hey there, precious,” the man said, leaning in to be heard over the din. He didn’t seem to notice Niko lean back. “You don’t have to look so lonely. If your friend over there,” he began, nodding in Jamie’s direction, “can’t see what he has right in front of him, that’s his problem. I’ve got better eyesight than all that.”
Niko looked over to the bartender who was otherwise distracted. It didn’t look like he was even close to getting to their order. Niko took a step away from the man.
“Don’t be shy,” the man said, stepping with him. “I don’t bite. Just want to chat is all.” He put a hand on Niko’s arm.
Niko yanked back, narrowing his eyes.
“Meow. Kitten has claws.” The man seemed more amused than intimidated.
The churning in his gut went from pissed and uncomfortable to something a lot more potent as the man put a hand to his back.
“One drink, and I swear if I haven’t won you over by then, I’ll leave you alone.” His eyes raked over Niko’s face. “You can’t blame a boy for trying. Not when you’re packing heat.” He looked down toward Niko’s crotch. Niko turned away, but that didn’t deter the man. His hand roamed lower down Niko’s back. “You’re so very pretty, sugar.”
Whatever control Niko had, he lost. He swung his arm out wide and hard, knocking the handsy asshole back. The man gasped and flailed, catching Niko’s elbow and sending them both to the ground. Niko pushed him away, but the man kept hold of him as they grappled.
“What the hell’s wrong with you?” The man’s fingernails dug into Niko’s arm.
Niko swung again, and the man lurched, keeping hold of him. They ended up toppling a barstool that hit Niko across the temple.
The next few seconds were a blur of flying fists and shouting voices. Then Jamie was there, hauling Niko away from the red-faced, furious stranger. Niko didn’t fight his friend, but he did shrug him off the second he was on his feet.
“Fucking bitch,” the man spat, touching a hand to his lip as though he expected to find blood there. “You don’t say a damn word, but you come at me? What the fuck, man?”
“Dude’s straight,” someone else said. “Didn’t you see him grinding up against that chick?”
“Asshole came into a gay bar looking for trouble?”
“Whoa. Okay.” Jamie held his hand out, stopping the advance of a few larger guys. “We’re out of here. We’re out of here,” he repeated, this time talking to the security team approaching them. “I got him.”
As he spoke, Jamie was dragging Niko toward the door. For the most part, Niko let him without a fight. He did linger to glare at some of the more threatening assholes, but it was more to assuage his wounded pride than anything else. All around them, he could hear murmurs accusing him of being a gay-bashing prick. As if the other guy had nothing to do with it.
But it was that guy’s word against Niko’s complete silence.
“What the hell happened?” Jamie asked when they were outside.
Niko huffed, throwing off his arm and running a hand through his hair. He winced when he encountered a tender spot. His hand came away bloody. Right. He’d bashed his head on a barstool.
Bennett, Carys, and Micah were right behind them. Bennett signed at Carys and pointed emphatically at Niko. Carys narrowed her eyes. “He said the guy was flirting with you and you flew off the handle.”
“He was barely touching you, Nik,” Micah said, shaking his head.
“Are you kidding me with this?” Carys asked, glaring at Niko. “Are you going to tell me you’re that guy? I get that you don’t want guys flirting with you, but to attack someone? Your brother’s gay. Your best friend’s gay. You’re telling me you think the idea of Jamie or Benny coming onto you is so disgusting that you’d rather punch them in the face than reject them like a normal human being? Is that your real problem with Benny?”
Niko opened his mouth but shut it just as quickly. They were all looking at him for an explanation as if he could give one.
He threw his hand in the air, because fuck all of them. He hadn’t said a damn word all night and had caught no small amount of shit for it. Fuck that, and fuck them. He stalked to the car and somehow resisted the urge to bust all the windows in with his elbow. It was a near thing. He considered walking. If he could get away from Jamie fast enough, he could order an Uber. That didn’t take any talking.
The security from the club was watching him, though. He knew from long experience that if he walked away alone after a bar fight, it was an invitation for them to send the cops after him.
It was only a minute before Jamie was there with a scowling Micah following behind him, while Carys and Bennett were nowhere to be seen. They were both quiet as they opened the doors and got in.
“Carys and Benny are taking an Uber home,” Jamie said, not looking at Niko. “I’m taking Micah with me tonight. I think that’s better.”
Niko just stared out the passenger window and gnashed his teeth. He’d found one of Jamie’s sweaters on the floor and used it to mop up all the blood. Jamie grunted but didn’t argue, and Niko held the cloth against his throbbing head.
“We’ll figure it out tomorrow,” Jamie said, pulling up to Niko’s place.
Niko hardly heard him. He was out of the car before it stopped moving and slammed the door behind him.
Niko’s phone chimed at the sam
e time someone knocked on his door. He figured it was Jamie at the door. Bastard. Well, he could just knock all he wanted because Niko didn’t want to see him. And whoever was on the phone could go to hell, too.
He was resolved until the knocker started pounding.
“Nikolai, open up. I saw your car.”
Niko groaned automatically at his father’s voice and winced at the coughing fit it brought on. He rolled off the couch and onto the floor, reaching for his phone, having changed his mind. He’d gladly talk to Jamie if it meant he didn’t have to see his father.
“Nikolai Vincent.” His father pounded on the door again, not to be ignored. With a sigh, Niko pushed to his feet and went to see what the hell his father could possibly want from him.
Niko was surprised to find himself looking at Vincente’s broad back and shoulders rather than his face when he opened the door.
It wasn’t difficult to figure out what his father was looking at because Carys was making her way down the hallway to his door. She looked simultaneously curious and wary as she glanced between Niko and his father.
With a grudging huff, Niko finger-spelled “dad,” hiding his hand almost at waist level so his father wouldn’t see
Her eyebrows shot up. “Oh,” she said, looking at Vincente. “You’re his father.”
“I am.” His father offered a hand. “Vincente Amorosa. How’d you know?”
“I’m Carys Harper. Niko told me just now.”
Vincente’s eyebrows shot skyward, and Niko wanted to bang his head against the wall. “Really?” his father asked. “How’s that?”
“He knows enough sign to get by now, and I understand sign.” She then signed, “Hello. Nice to meet you.”
Vincente chuffed. “Niko waves his hands in the air like that, huh? That must be a show.”
Carys fixed Vincente with a glare Niko was intimately acquainted with after last night. “It’s not a show; it’s a language.”
This wasn’t going to end well. Niko clapped his hand on the edge of the door to get their attention. He made a “get on with it” motion and looked between the two of them.
Vincente bowed slightly, waving a hand at Carys. “Ladies first.”
Carys’s glance was uncertain as she looked between the two men. “I wanted to talk to you about last night,” she said to Niko as they both followed him into the apartment.
“Oh, this oughta be good.” Vincente pulled up a chair in the kitchen. “Please. Pretend I’m not here.”
Niko clenched his jaw. His father was enjoying this too much already. Surely Carys would want privacy.
She frowned at Vincente but turned to Niko, and he could clearly see that his father being there wouldn’t stop her from yelling at him about the night before. Of course not. The woman had no filter at all. Why would it occur to her anyone else in the world had one?
“This isn’t going to take long. I just had to tell you one thing.”
Niko rubbed his eyes. He was in no mood to be yelled at, but it didn’t seem like the kind of thing that would stop Carys. He gestured that she should continue.
“It wasn’t right of me to dismiss what you must’ve been feeling last night.” Her eyes went to the gash on his forehead. “And you were injured, too. We should’ve cared about that.” She shook her head. “Okay, here’s the bottom line. I need you to know it wasn’t right. What that guy did wasn’t right.”
Niko froze, every nerve in his body on edge, but then he clenched his fists at his sides.
Carys continued, oblivious. “What I mean is that he had no right to touch you. What your brother said, that he barely touched you, doesn’t matter. He had no right. He shouldn’t have been touching you when it was obvious that wasn’t what you wanted.” She wagged a finger in his face. “That doesn’t mean I think what you did was right, but I needed you to know that part.”
If he thought he could get away with it, he would’ve clamped a hand over her mouth to get her to stop speaking. Dread curled into a ball at the base of his spine and travelled upwards as she talked. As she concluded her little monologue, he waited.
Sure enough, his father was there, leaning against the wall with a condescending expression. “Is that who messed up that pretty face of yours?” He tilted his head, fixing Niko with a bemused expression. “You letting the queers beat up on you again, boy?”
Carys’s head snapped in his direction. “‘Again’?”
“Sure.” Vincente looked at Carys and grinned. “Poor kid’s always been too damn pretty for his own good.”
Niko turned on his heel and retreated to the living room. He threw himself down in his chair, crossed his arms, and stared at some random point on the wall as his father continued his story.
“When he was nineteen, I started taking him to the bars with me.” He waved a hand at her shocked expression and smirked. “Hey, I never let him get plastered. It was work. We weren’t so well off, you know. Kid was good at hustling money from the drunks.”
He laughed. “That damn doll face of his has to be good for something, right? We had a good act going on. I’d tell them all, ‘Go easy on him, man. Look at him. He’s a baby. Poor angel.’ And he’d get all indignant. ‘I don’t need you to take care of me. I got this. Come on, man. Rack ‘em up.’ He’d lose for a while, and I’d pretend to try to pull him away, but the guys were always on his side. ‘Maybe he’s as pretty as a girl, but he’s a grown man. You let him play. It’s his money. You let him do what he wants with it.’ We ran a good game.”
Vincente cleared his throat. “Anyhow, we’re at this bar one day, hustling these three guys.” He whistled. “Man, did we snow them good.”
Niko’s heart began to pound hard in his chest, and his throat got tight. He had the almost-irresistible urge to scream, to shout at his father to shut the fuck up, for what little good it would’ve done him even if he could speak. His father loved telling this story. He thought it was hilarious.
“They must’ve been queers, I guess,” Vincente said with a shrug. “They didn’t take the loss well, and Niko went and got himself cornered.”
Niko flinched. He’d gone to the bathroom to take a piss. He was alone in there, and then he wasn’t. Vincente had taught Niko to defend himself, and he was tough. Even as a snot-nosed teenager, he could hold his own in a fight. That time, though, there were three of them—big guys—and he hadn’t quite filled out, yet. They caught him by surprise, and when they pushed him, he hit his head. The blow had him dazed, so they got the better of him right away.
Now, he shook his head hard, glad his father and Carys were in the kitchen where they couldn’t see him. His skin crawled with a sickening sensation as he remembered their hands on him. They’d hit him and shoved him between them. He was confused, his head spinning from the blow, and hadn’t been able to get his bearings. He remembered clearly being pinned up against the wall, one of them grinding up against him, his hand groping between his legs. Their ragged breaths and low voices were harsh and loud in his ear.
Daddy’s pretty little girl.
Come on, pretty boy. You actually got a cock down there?
“Guess you really can’t blame them for being confused, face like his,” Vincente said and then laughed again. “They had him mistaken for one of them, and I suppose they were looking to recoup some of what they’d lost, one way or another.” He chuckled. “They scattered pretty quickly once I got there, though.”
Niko remembered every second of that car ride home. His father had been furious back then, but Niko could never tell if he was angrier at the assholes or at him. He remembered sitting in the passenger seat as Vincente told him what he should’ve done, how he should’ve known. Tremors went through him every other second, and his face and arms throbbed from where he’d been yanked and shoved around. There was blood in his mouth from his split lip. He stared straight ahead, but he couldn’t see anything, not with his eyes full of tears. He remembered the way his fingernails dug into his palms as he tried not to let the tears fal
l, but it didn’t work.
“What? Now you’re going to cry?” Vincente said. “Maybe they’re right. Maybe you are a little bitch.” He smacked his shoulder. “Nut up. You’re fine. Nothing happened to you. Jesus Christ. What’s your mother been doing to you, huh? Man’s not a man who hasn’t been roughed up every now and again. And by a trio of Marys, too. You’re fine.”
“Are you really laughing about your son’s sexual assault like it’s a joke?” Carys said from the kitchen.
A jolt went down Niko’s spine at her words, and he stood up, on the defensive.
“Sexual assault?” Vincente said with a scoff. “That’s an exaggeration.”
“From what you described, I really don’t think it is.”
“Hey, I pulled the kid out in one piece,” his father said, irritation beginning to creep into his tone.
Niko went into the kitchen to break up whatever was about to go on. Carys didn’t know how to keep her weird opinions to herself, and his father didn’t take well to mouthy kids, even if they were in their thirties.
Sure enough, it looked like a stand-off. Carys was a fairly even match for Vincente’s harsh glare. She backed down when she saw Niko, though, her eyes full of sympathy, which was the last thing he wanted. His father was right. Nothing had happened. He’d freaked out about it at the time, but that was a moment of weakness.
“Look, I really only came by to tell you that. I didn’t…” Carys glanced at Vincente again and back at Niko. He was sure the look he was fixing her with was as cold as he felt toward her right now—not welcoming at all. “I’ll see you tomorrow, right? For work?”
Niko jerked his head in a nod.
She sighed and nodded back. “I’ll see you then.”
When the door had closed behind her, Vincente scoffed. “Interesting girl. You sure know how to pick ‘em. Where the hell did you find her, anyway? And how, with your…?” He gestured vaguely at Niko’s throat. “Work, she said? You can’t tell me that little biddy’s on a construction crew. And what the hell was this about last night? You went out with her?”
There, at least, was a question he could answer simply, even though he really would’ve preferred his father didn’t know at this point. He nodded anyway.
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