by A M Snead
“Hey, good idea.” Lucas grinned and shoved his hands beneath Derek, fumbling with his pants.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Derek bellowed in laughter and struggled beneath the three young men. “Get your fucking hands out of there!”
The onlookers busted up and urged Lucas on.
“I think a little gangbang action is in order,” Lucas snickered.
“Eww, no!” Marcus wrinkled his face and tackled Lucas off Derek’s back, with Mickey tumbling after.
Lucas grunted as his back hit the floor, both boys on top of him. “You little brat,” Lucas snarled and grabbed Marcus. “I just rescued you—and you won’t even help me violate your kidnapper? That’s gratitude for ya!”
Laughing hard, Mickey rolled off Lucas and dragged Marcus with him, the three of them lying still, panting for breath. Derek twisted over and sat up, fastening his pants. He scowled at Lucas. “You perv, wait till our next scene. Payback time.”
Lucas winked, panting heavily. “Looking forward to it.” He flopped his head to the side and grinned at Mickey. “Now…about your payment…”
The boy squealed and scrambled to his feet, grabbing Marcus’ hand. “I lied!” he laughed and raced from the room with Marcus in tow.
“You little weasel!” Lucas shouted. “I’ll get you, my pretty! And your little sexy boyfriend, too!”
The twins kept going, though Lucas didn’t give chase, racing through the large foyer toward the kitchen. Mickey gasped for air, clutching Marcus’ hand, laughing as they ran across the expansive floor space. Mickey barely heard the low voices before they reached the kitchen doorway and came to a sudden, screeching halt. Marcus crashed into his back, nearly toppling them both over.
“Mickey, what—”
Mickey clamped his hand over Marcus’ mouth. The boy’s quickened breath puffed out of his nostrils against Mickey’s hand, his brow pinched in confusion. Mickey held one finger to his lips. “Shh.” He withdrew his hand and peered into the kitchen.
Across the large kitchen, Scotty was pressed back into the corner of the counter while Pratt blocked any avenue of retreat. The man was rubbing him between the legs.
Marcus’ eyes widened, and he started to speak when Mickey hurriedly silenced him with a gesture of the hand.
Scotty turned his face away from the cameraman when the guy tried to kiss him. “Don’t…” Scotty whispered quietly. He pushed at the man’s hand in an attempt to remove it from his crotch. “I don’t want to.”
“Sure, you do,” Pratt spoke low, a heated rasp to his voice. “You know you’re special to me. You’re my favorite.”
“No, I’m not,” Scotty whispered.
“Come on, now,” Pratt cooed. “Sure, you are.” He leaned down and nuzzled Scotty’s neck. The boy closed his eyes tight and turned his face further away as the man rubbed him more firmly. “Come to my room,” Pratt groaned. “I’ll make you feel all kinds of special.”
Scotty shook his head slowly and opened his eyes. “No, I don’t want—” His eyes caught Mickey’s stare and widened before Mickey could withdraw from view.
Pratt looked their way sharply and Mickey grabbed Marcus’ hand again, and bolted for the stairs, practically dragging Marcus with him. He burst through their bedroom door and slammed it behind them, locking it quickly.
“Mickey…” Marcus panted, fear in his eyes. “What…” He swallowed thickly. “Shouldn’t…shouldn’t we tell someone? He-he shouldn’t be doing that to Scotty.”
“No!” Mickey hissed low, tight. He clutched Marcus’ shoulders, startling the other boy. “Scotty’s an adult, he can take care of himself. If he don’t like it, let him tell someone. Just…don’t you say anything about…anything.”
Both boys jumped when the doorknob twisted against the lock. A pounding on the door sent Mickey’s heart to his throat, choking him with fear.
“Little pigs, little pigs, let me in…”
Relief washed through Mickey. Lucas.
Another forceful thump of the guy’s fist. “I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow…” His words faded as a strong chuckle pushed through the door.
Mickey rushed over and unlocked the door, pulling it open. Fear from a moment ago still lingered in his knees and churned in his gut, but his smile was genuine as he threw his arms around Lucas and kissed him hard. “What’ll you blow?”
Lucas growled and grabbed him up in his arms. “You!” he snarled and ravaged Mickey’s neck as he stepped into the room and kicked the door closed behind him. Mickey laughed and clung to him tighter, his throat knotted and tears burned his eyes.
“And me, too?” Marcus quipped hopefully.
An evil chuckle erupted from the guy and he moved forward, encircling Marcus with one arm as he toppled them all onto the bed. “That’s my dirty plan.”
Marcus yelped when Lucas nipped his neck. “Aren’t you tired from doing Jack?” he laughed.
“Not anymore.” He shoved his face deeper into Marcus’ neck and nibbled all over his sensitive skin, causing the boy to squeal and squirm.
“Lock the door,” Mickey gasped softly. He combed his fingers through Lucas’ silky black hair. He struggled to keep the fear and wetness from his eyes. Just having Lucas here with them, though, made him feel safe—as it had when Garrett and Bailey had been there earlier.
“All right,” Lucas groaned and lifted off them. He walked to the door and locked it then turned around, a mischievous smile dragging up the corner of his mouth. “Time to pay up.” He wagged his eyebrows and peeled off his shirt. “Let’s get naked.”
♥
“What is this?” Jack’s dad halted as soon as he passed through the entryway corridor and entered the main club. His eyes narrowed and did a quick sweep of the establishment, catching briefly on Nicky as he worked his magic onstage. The man’s stare cut to Jack. “Is this some kind of joke? Because it isn’t funny? How dare you lure us to this…brothel?”
“This brothel happens to be my club.” Daniel approached and stood beside Jack. “And I happen to be quite fond of it.”
The man shot Daniel a crisp look. “My apologies.” He wasn’t sorry, and certainly wasn’t taking back his insult. “We will be leaving now.” He addressed Jack. “I don’t know what you think you’re proving by bringing us here, but this isn’t helping your case. So, let’s go somewhere more”—he glanced around with distaste—“respectable, where we can talk.”
“My case?” Jack stared at him. Wetness remained in his eyes—the first thing Garrett had noticed when he’d stepped out the door. Jack had been in tears…and not because of his parents.
Garrett stood back as Gideon and Bailey came to stand next to Daniel and Jack. Benjamin lingered away from the small group, slowly working his way over to Garrett.
“I’m not discussing this here.” Jack’s dad glanced between those flanking his son. “Let’s go.”
“What case?” Jack pressed, a strain to his voice. “The case that I’m a fag?”
“Jack,” his mom spoke up. Her gaze flicked uneasily toward the stage. “It wasn’t very respectful tricking us into coming to a place like this.”
Jack scoffed. “Not respectful? You expect me to show you respect when neither of you have shown me a fucking shred of respect since I came out?”
“Do not speak to your mother that way,” his dad ordered sharply, stabbing a finger at Jack. “Now you will come with us to a decent place, so we can discuss the dinner for Jill’s birthday.”
Although Garrett had his own beef with Jack, the guy’s parents were pissing him off. “Jill was Jack’s twin sister, wasn’t she?” Garrett spoke. It wasn’t his place to interfere, but they were annoying the fuck out of him. “So, wouldn’t Jill’s birthday be Jack’s birthday as well?”
Jack’s dad stiffened. “Look, I don’t know who you are, but this is between us and our son. So please stay out of it.” He looked Garrett over skeptically. “As I’m sure you’re one who has encouraged Jack to follow his sinful p
ath.”
“There’s all forms of sin,” Gideon murmured. He stared unwavering at Jack’s father, a low burning fury behind his eyes.
“And who are you?”
Jack shifted. “Gideon. My boss.”
“You…” The man looked hard at Jack. “You work here? As a…” His stare snapped to the stage then back on Jack. “Are you out of your mind, Jack? What is this—being gay isn’t enough, you have to flaunt it in our faces?”
“I’m not a stripper,” Jack said bluntly. “Daniel owns the club, not Gideon. I didn’t say Daniel was my boss.”
“So, what is your job?” his dad asked uncertainly.
Jack took a deep breath and glanced at Gideon. Garrett could feel the anxiety and fear wafting off the young man as he prepared to drop the bomb. Gideon nodded at Jack. “Go on,” he murmured. “Tell him. You know where your place is.”
“Jack?” His dad raised a sharp eyebrow, insisting on an answer.
Releasing a slow, unsteady breath, Jack met his stare. “I’m a porn star.”
A slow welling horror crept over the faces of Jack’s parents. And then rage began to bubble in his dad’s eyes. “You…” His face twitched and pinched in a kind if snarl. “…you fuck men for a living?”
Jack stared at him. “I am gay. I’m not gonna fuck women.” He gazed dryly at his dad. “Of course, that would probably be okay with you, wouldn’t it? It isn’t the porn part of it that’s bugging you, is it? It’s that I’m dicking men instead of women.”
Mitchel Heart trembled with rage. “You are a fucking disgrace,” he hissed, his face beginning to turn red. “You not only disgrace us—but your sister’s memory as well.”
“Jill knew I was going to be a porn star,” Jack snapped back, with a notable working of his throat. “And she thought it was great. She didn’t care what I did, as long as I was happy. She even envied me. She always told me she wished she was my gay twin brother.”
“Don’t!” Mitchel raged, jabbing his finger at Jack again. “Don’t you dare dishonor Jill’s memory with your bullshit lies!”
“I’m not lying!” Jack returned hard. Tears welled up. “Jill loved me for who I was! She loved everything about me! Don’t stand there and act like you even know a fucking thing about her! You don’t!”
“You fucking little—” Mitchel’s hand came up so fast that Garrett barely saw the man move before he was swinging on Jack.
“Mitchel!” Jack’s mom gasped in shock.
Garrett’s mind hardly had a chance to kick his body into gear—when Gideon caught the man’s wrist in a vise grip, quick as lightning, in a flash inserting himself between Jack and his enraged father.
“Nobody fucking hits one of my boys,” Gideon hissed low. His fingers clenched the man’s wrist, squeezing harder, causing Mitchel Heart to wince.
“This isn’t your business,” Jack’s dad growled but failed to tear free of Gideon’s unyielding grasp. “He is my son and I will—”
“No,” Gideon snapped in his face. “You lost the right to call him son the first time you hit him.” He squeezed harder and leaned closer. “He’s my boy now. And you will not lay a fucking finger on him ever again.” He twisted the man’s arm just a little and clenched his fist tighter around his wrist. “Are you fucking understanding me?”
Mitchel’s face pinched with pain and rage, defiance in his eyes…but also a shadow of fear.
A smile quirked Garrett’s lips, deep pride swelling his chest. Go, daddy.
The man gave a quick, hardly notable nod, but it was enough and Gideon shoved him back, releasing him. Mitchel rubbed his reddened wrist, indented with Gideon’s fingerprints. His wife stood in shock beside him, but her eyes weren’t on Gideon—but her husband.
“What…what is he talking about?” she whispered, trembling. “Did you…” Her eyes darted to Jack then back to her husband. “Did you hit Jack before?” Tears formed thick. “Did you?” When he didn’t answer, just continued to massage his wrist, face tight, the woman looked to Jack. “Jack…?”
His lips tight, Jack swallowed thickly and nodded.
“Why…” She glanced between her husband and son. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Tell you?” Jack choked. “I was supposed to believe that you would take my side over his? That you would defend your disgraceful faggot son? I saw the way you looked at me, Mom!” he cried. “The same way he did! And that look, like you…like you wished I didn’t even exist…” He swallowed hard as tears slipped free. “…that hurt worse than his fists ever did!”
His mom stared at him, eyes swimming. “Jack, I didn’t…”
“Just get out,” Jack choked, face tight. “Both of you. Stay out of my fucking life. I don’t ever want to see you again.” His throat worked as fresh tears pooled and drained out. He turned away with a broken whisper. “Just pretend I died with Jill.”
Garrett was unaware of his own tears until the man and woman blurred and distorted before him. He stepped forward as Jack walked away. “Do you need help finding the door?” he asked curtly, more than ready to lend a hand throwing their asses out of the club.
64 “The Troubled Mind”
“Looks like we wore him out.” Mickey was splayed facedown on the bed, mouth partially open and soft snores muffling into the pillow. His lean slender body glistened with sweat, his skin retaining a mild flush to tell the tale of their recent enthusiastic activity.
Marcus’ eyes weighed heavy, but he remained awake and alert, snuggling close to Lucas’ heated body. The boy’s smile was one of pure satisfaction and contentment. “He always teases me that he’s the sex machine and I can’t outlast him.”
Lucas chuckled. “Well, baby...” He kissed Marcus’ damp hair. “You proved him wrong today. Who’s passed out now?”
Wriggling closer, Marcus rested his cheek on Lucas’ chest and gazed at his sleeping lover. He fell silent as he traced slow patterns on Lucas’ damp skin, his fingertips traveling the hills and valleys of his cut abs.
“You okay, babe?” Lucas softly caressed the shallow furrows of lean muscle along Marcus’ spine.
The boy didn’t immediately answer.
“Marcus?” Lucas trailed his fingertips up the young man’s back and combed them through Marcus’ hair. “Is something wrong?”
Marcus shifted against Lucas, his naked body warm and tacky with sweat. “Does Mickey seem different to you?” he whispered. “Like…”
“Like something’s troubling him?” Lucas murmured.
“Yes.” Marcus raised his head.
“I’ve noticed.” He looked at Mickey. “He won’t talk to you about it?”
“No,” Marcus said quietly, worry in his voice. “He just keeps telling me that everything’s okay. But…” He shook his head. “But it isn’t. I know Mickey, and something’s bothering him, bad.”
Lucas reached over and ran his fingertips through Mickey’s damp strands. “Do you remember just when his behavior changed?” He looked at Marcus. “Anything that was going on at the time that might have caused it?”
His brow scrunched in thought, Marcus gazed at his boyfriend. “I…” He thought harder, then shifted his eyes to Lucas. “It was the day Gideon started shooting the promos. I-I remember, because we were out on the hammock. We were playing like I was a faery king and he went into the woods to pick flowers to make into a crown for me.”
Lucas smiled; sometimes it still shocked him that two boys of such innocence were hot, sexy porn stars. It seemed like such an impossible mixture, but the twins worked the combination perfectly. “So, what happened? Tell me everything.”
“He was fine when he went into the trees,” Marcus said. “But when he came back…”
“What?” Lucas murmured and hugged him closer.
“He was…acting weird. And he was in a hurry for us to go back inside, even though he was the one who wanted to go outside in the first place. And”—Marcus laid his head down again—“when we got to the room, he locked the door.”
>
“Did he say why?” Lucas frowned, his gut beginning to knot and twist.
Marcus shook his head. “No,” he whispered, his voice straining with emotion. “We made love and…and he cried and held me so tight.” He swallowed thickly. “I asked him what was wrong, but he wouldn’t tell me, he just kept saying nothing was wrong. But he was lying, Lucas.” He turned his face against Lucas’ shoulder and trembled. “Something is wrong.”
“Have you told anyone else about this?”
“I…I told Jack that Mickey was acting strange and I thought maybe he was mad at me about something. He said he would talk to him after he did his promo shoot with Garrett, but…he was really upset after the shoot and I didn’t want to bother him about it.”
“Yeah,” Lucas sighed. “That shoot didn’t go so well.”
“But the day I talked to Jack,” Marcus said quietly. “When I went back to the room, Mickey…he was out of bed and freaking out because I wasn’t there when he woke up. He said he had a bad dream that someone was trying to hurt me, and it just scared him at first that I wasn’t there. But…” Marcus sniffed, and tears wet his voice. “He was really scared, Lucas. It wasn’t about a dream, I know it wasn’t.” He buried his face in Lucas’ neck as a sob shook him. “What’s wrong with him? Why won’t he tell me? He always tells me everything.”
Lucas held him closer and kissed his head, then glanced at Mickey’s sleeping form, eyes troubled. “I don’t know, baby. But it’s good that you told me. We’ll figure it out.” He caressed Marcus’ back as he replayed the last few days, trying to recall every instance that involved the twins. He remembered the night in the rec room when a few of them had noticed Mickey’s oddly protective behavior toward Marcus—and Bailey’s watchful eyes on the twins. “Marcus,” he murmured. “Do you know if Mickey said anything to Bailey about any of this?”
The boy didn’t answer, and Lucas realized he had dropped into sleep. He kissed his head again.
“Everything’s going to be okay, baby,” he whispered. “I promise.” He stared at Mickey and stroked his fingertips through his hair. His heart broke at the thought of the boy trying to deal with something bad all on his own. What the hell had happened out in the woods that day?