Open Wounds: The Boxed Set

by Michelle Frost

  “You must be Ollie.”

  A last flicker of panic swept across Ollie’s face as Stella stepped forward and lifted her hands to beckon him. “Well, come on, let me have a look at you.”

  “Mom…” Dagen started to say but stopped when Ollie bent forward and let her cup his cheeks like she did to everyone she decided was one of her “kids.”

  “Oh, honey.” Stella smiled gently at Ollie, and Dagen held his breath. “I’m glad you’re here.” She pressed a kiss to Ollie’s forehead.

  “I’m glad to be here, Mrs. Rourke.” There was the slightest tremor in Ollie’s voice, and Dagen reached for his hand, lacing their fingers together and feeling it like a balm to his heart when Ollie gave a gentle squeeze.

  “None of that; call me Stella.” She looked between them with a smile, then pointed across the deck to a table laden with food. “You help yourself to anything you would like. Dagen, after dinner would you mind helping me move a couple stones in the garden?”

  “Sure, Mom.”

  All of them had spent a lot of time helping their mom get her yard in order when she’d first moved in. Dagen felt a sense of pride, looking around the well-kept yard and back to the rose garden his mother so loved. A six-foot tall privacy fence surrounded the space, making it feel like a sanctuary. The deck attached to the house was built for entertaining, with a large outdoor table surrounded by chairs with vibrant cushions. As the sun set, Dagen knew soft path lights and sconces would come to life, illuminating their gathering as darkness fell. He’d spent so many evenings here, enjoying good food and the company of his family, but standing there with his hand in Ollie’s was the most at home he’d ever felt.

  Sitting back with a full belly, Ollie sighed. He shouldn’t have been worried. It was strange to find himself among a group of people and feeling completely at ease, but he was discovering quickly that he liked it. He especially liked that, while everyone greeted and included him, they didn’t push. He settled further into the cushion of his chair and let the various conversations wash over him.

  Niko was in the chair to his left, talking to Kayla, and Ollie smiled at the little jar of homemade bruise salve sitting in front of him. Apparently, Stella had taken one look at his face and pulled him into the house for the first application. Ollie shifted, feeling the last remnants of his own bruises, and thought he should thank her for making it.

  Dagen’s hand shifted where it was resting on Ollie’s leg under the table, and he grinned to himself again. Speaking to his brother Magnus, Dagen looked relaxed in the warm glow emanating from several sconces attached to the back of the house.

  Looking around at everyone gathered, a thought occurred to Ollie, and in the next lull in Dagen’s conversation, he asked, “Where’s Rory?”

  Two sets of hazel eyes turned to him, only Magnus’s looked pained. “That’s my fault. R… He and I trade off months and this one is mine.”

  “Oh. Sorry, I didn’t mean—”

  “No need to apologize,” Magnus interrupted with a small smile, and after a pregnant pause added, “You’ve got to make this one,” he elbowed Dagen, “bring you by the club sometime. We’ve got dancers and drink specials every night.”

  “Sounds like fun,” Ollie answered just before a whoop sounded from down in the yard. Craning his neck for a look, Ollie spotted two blond heads locked in a wrestling match in the middle of an open grassy area. “Is that…?”

  “Yes,” Dagen and Magnus sighed at the same time, then broke into a laugh. Magnus hopped out of his seat and went to either intervene in the scuffle between his other two brothers or join in. Ollie wasn’t sure. It obviously wasn’t a real fight, just brothers playing, and Ollie wondered at what it must have been like when they were children if it was this bad as adults.

  “Were they always like this?” He asked Dagen, who was watching Vidar and Harbor roll in the grass, each trying to pin the other.

  “Worse. They’ve mellowed with age, but they were always the fighters of the group.”

  “You never wanted to? Fight, I mean… like Harbor does.”

  Dagen looked thoughtful then smirked. “No. Vidar has done his share too, and I’ve trained with them, but I’ve always been more of a lover.” He lowered his voice and cut his eyes over to Ollie, a sexy smirk on his lips.

  Ollie couldn’t keep his lips from lifting in answer or his fingers from brushing over Dagen’s. “No complaints here.”

  Dagen was burning up. Watching Ollie here with his family, seeing him smile and seem so at ease, was the strongest aphrodisiac Dagen had ever had. Once his moron brothers had worked their little wrestling match out of their system, Dagen took Ollie by the hand and led him to the back of the yard and into his mom’s rose garden. Green leaves had sprouted again on the thick bushes now that spring was upon them and soon every section, divided by stone paths, would be filled with riotous color.

  He moved the new stones into their places along the path as his mother had asked, then he pulled Ollie all the way to the back, behind the tallest and thickest of the plants in the shadows beyond the path lights, and pressed him up against the fence.

  “Someone is going to see us,” Ollie whispered against his lips after Dagen kissed him deeply.

  “No, they won’t. It’s dark and we’re hidden back here.” He bit along Ollie’s jaw and down his throat, pulling a moan from his lover, and he chuckled against Ollie’s skin. “But if you keep that up, they’ll hear us for sure.” Dagen could barely hear voices from the deck, as far back as they were, and they truly were hidden from sight. A cool breeze caused the wind chimes hanging in one of the trees to sing, and even without open blooms, the scent of roses swirled around them. “I want you,” Dagen breathed, hands sliding down to the waist of Ollie’s jeans. “Want to taste you.”

  Ollie gasped. “Oh god, why would you say that? I’m going to have to walk out of here hard now.”

  Dagen’s smile turned wicked. “Not if I can help it.” Then he sank to his knees, lifting Ollie’s shirt enough to press open mouthed kisses across his lower stomach. He paused and looked up to meet Ollie’s gaze. “Can I?”

  Ollie was trembling in his grip, but he licked his lips and nodded. It was all Dagen needed. Flicking open the button and lowering the zipper, he wasted no time getting a hand around Ollie’s length. A bead of pre-cum pooled at the slit and Dagen licked it, teasing, before taking Ollie all the way into his mouth. A muffled groan sounded above him, and he looked up to see Ollie had his head thrown back and both hands covering his mouth. With a hum, Dagen swallowed him down, nose brushing the coarse, dark hair at the base of Ollie’s cock. He set a relentless pace, careful to keep sounds to a minimum, and it didn’t take long before Ollie was gripping his hair and doubled over with the force of his release. Dagen sucked down every drop, entirely pleased with himself and painfully hard, but happy to simply rise to his feet and fasten Ollie’s jeans.

  “You look so smug,” Ollie panted before pulling him in for a kiss. “If I wasn’t completely come-drunk I might take offense.”

  “Shouldn’t I be happy that I can bring you pleasure?” Dagen dragged his nose up Ollie’s throat, and he shivered.

  “Hmmm,” Ollie hummed and dropped his hand to cup Dagen through his pants. “I’d be happy to return the favor.”

  Dagen almost said “fuck it” and let him, but they’d been risky enough tonight. He leaned in close, lips brushing Ollie’s ear, and whispered, “I’d rather come with you inside me.”

  Groaning, Ollie wormed out from between Dagen and the fence. Dagen was confused for a moment, until Ollie grabbed his hand and tugged. “You can’t say that shit to me and then just stand there. Come on, we need to get Niko and say goodbye to everyone.”

  In the end, they stayed another hour, talking and laughing. When they emerged from the garden, it seemed no one had even noticed they were missing, save Magnus, who shot Ollie a wink. Ollie knew his cheeks must have been tomato red, but Dagen only laughed and pressed a kiss to his flushed skin,
which somehow made it all seem okay.

  The drive home was comfortably quiet, Niko asleep in the back seat, and when Dagen pulled the truck up at the back of the gym beside the stairs to their apartment, Ollie thought that maybe everything was going to turn out all right after all. He would deal with his issues. Maybe find a counselor. Or a group. He knew there were other people like him, Niko was proof enough of that, who’d been turned away by family to find themselves alone and in bad situations. He got through that and now he could get through this.

  “Hey,” Dagen said quietly and clasped their hands together before Ollie had the chance to reach for his door handle. “Thanks for coming with me tonight.”

  Ollie met his warm gaze with a smile. “Thanks for inviting me… and blowing me in the rose bushes.”

  “I knew it!” Niko declared sleepily from the back seat before sitting up and rubbing his unbruised eye.

  “Oh god,” Ollie groaned, as Dagen laughed.

  “I should have gone home with Magnus,” Niko said with a shake of his head, and Dagen and Ollie both looked back at him with raised brows. “Not like that!” he protested quickly. “He just offered me his spare room, but I thought it would be better to stay here tonight since I’m supposed to start work in the morning.”

  Ollie pushed open the truck door as he asked, “How do you feel about being Kayla’s apprentice?”

  “I’m excited,” Niko answered, hopping down from the cab of the truck.

  Dagen met them at the foot of the stairs, letting them go ahead of him. “There’s no one better to teach you about running a smooth business. I don’t know that Vidar would be able to keep the shop or the gym running as well as they do, without Kayla.”

  “She really is great,” Ollie said, digging his keys out of his pocket. “And I’ll be happy to show you some stuff too, if you want.”

  Niko turned to him with wide eyes. “Really?”

  “Sure.” Ollie unlocked the door and pushed it open, stepping into the apartment. “Having a diverse portfolio is always a good thing. I’d be happy to help in whatever way I can.”

  “Thanks, Ollie,” Niko said, walking around him and farther into the living room.

  “No problem.” Ollie turned back to the doorway to ask Dagen if he needed to eat again before they went to bed, only to find Dagen frozen in place just inside the door with a gun pointed at his head.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Jesus Christ, what are you? A fucking giant?”

  The cool end of the silencer pressed into Dagen’s temple, and for a split second, he almost laughed, realizing that without it, the man holding the gun wouldn’t have been able to reach high enough to place it there. Ollie was standing about three feet in front of him, completely frozen, and staring at Dagen with wide, terrified eyes. Dagen held his gaze, tried to soothe him through force of will alone. Don’t panic. Be ready.

  “In the living room. On your knees.” The man pressed the gun a little harder against Dagen’s head and then pulled back to step behind him. It was what Dagen had been waiting for. He spun, grabbing the man’s gun hand and shoving it toward the ceiling while his other hand seized the man’s throat in a crushing grip. A muffled shot sounded from the gun, sending plaster raining down on their heads, before Dagen gripped the man’s wrist as hard as he could and slammed the man back into the door they’d just walked through.

  Behind him, he heard Ollie gasp, but Dagen just pounded the man into the door again. His head cracked against the hard surface, and Dagen only released him when the gun slipped from his hand. Letting the limp body fall to the floor, Dagen reached for the discarded weapon, but a voice stopped him.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

  Dagen spun to find Ollie with his back to him and looking toward the mouth of the hallway leading to the bedrooms. Niko was there, his back pressed to a man’s chest. The man had an arm around his throat and a gun, just like the one that had been pointed at Dagen, pressed to his temple. The man wasn’t very tall, Dagen would guess five nine and from what Dagen could see, he had dark hair and equally dark eyes.

  Stepping up beside Ollie, he homed in on Niko’s terrified face and felt a fresh wave of acid burst in his chest at the trickle of blood he could see dripping down Niko’s chin from a split in his lip. Beside him, Ollie shuddered out a breath before stepping forward. Dagen immediately reached to pull him back, but Ollie stepped to the side and looked back at the intruder.

  “What do you want, Justin?”

  Ollie was going to be sick. A million thoughts flashed through his head as he watched Niko’s wide eyes flit from him to Dagen and back again, but one was stuck on a loop.

  I brought this here.

  When Dagen had tried to stop him from moving toward Justin, he’d had to pull away. If Dagen touched him now, he’d crumble into a million pieces and he needed to find a way to get him and Niko out of this danger before that happened. Justin was sneering at him, and Ollie’s skin crawled. How did I ever let that man touch me?

  “I want everything this little shit,” Justin wrenched back violently with the arm around Niko’s throat, causing him to choke and gasp, “stole from me!”

  Dagen nearly lunged forward, but Justin pulled the gun away from Niko to point it straight at his chest. He stopped with a growl, his fists clenched so tight his knuckles were white.

  “You stop right there,” Justin barked. “And better yet, get on your knees. I’m getting a fucking crick in my neck looking up at you.” When Dagen didn’t immediately drop, Justin’s eyes went cold before a sinister glint lit in their dark depths and he turned the gun on Ollie.

  “Okay, okay,” Dagen said, lowering himself down, palms held up in front of his body.

  “Found you a new sucker to bleed dry, huh?” Justin said to Ollie before turning his sneer on Dagen. “Hope you’re getting some good miles out of his ass. It’s about the only thing he’s good for.”

  Ollie took another hasty step forward, afraid of what Dagen might say or do. “What do you mean stole from you? If you want the stupid sketchbook—"

  Justin started to laugh, an ugly, dark sound. “You always were soft in the head. I don’t give a shit about your sketchbook.”

  “Then, what?”

  The door behind Justin, that led down into the tattoo shop, opened and another man Dagen didn’t know stepped into the apartment.

  “I found the backpack, boss,” he said, holding up the bag Niko had had with him the night before in the gym. “There’s a safe down there as well. Could be worth cracking.”

  Justin let go of Niko’s throat and shoved him forward before reaching for the bag. Ollie half caught the younger man, and they both ended up crouched on the floor, while Niko tried to get his breath back. “Give me that.” Justin grabbed at the backpack. “Go check on Russ and see if Big Shit here killed him.”

  The man that had come up the stairs lifted his gaze and seemed to really notice Dagen for the first time. With round eyes, he made a wide berth around where Dagen was still kneeling on the floor to do Justin’s bidding.

  Dagen’s mind was whirling. If the man who’d retrieved the backpack had seen the safe, that meant he’d been in Vidar’s office. Vidar’s office had a silent alarm because it was where they stored the cash from the gym and shop. He needed to keep this standoff happening, buy them some time. If it had only been Justin, he may have taken the opportunity of the man digging in the backpack to rush him, but now there was a gun on either side of them and he wouldn’t risk Ollie and Niko.

  “He’s alive, boss, but still out,” the other man said from behind them, but Justin didn’t seem to hear. With every passing second, he grew more frantic, tearing at the bag in his hands. Panic and rage written clearly on his face. “Where the fuck is it?” he screamed, throwing the bag on the ground and turning the gun back on Niko. Ollie pushed Niko behind him and rose to his feet, hands in front of him. Fear was a leaden brick in Dagen’s belly.

  “Just tell us what it is…maybe we
can help find it.” Ollie’s voice was calm. Reasonable. Justin backhanded him hard enough that Ollie hit the ground. Niko yelled and tried to catch him, leaving them both sprawled on the floor. Dagen saw red and was on his feet before he could think, only to halt when Justin grabbed Ollie by the hair and hauled him up to his knees, gun pressed to his temple.

  “Not another step! I will fucking kill him!”

  The barrel of a gun prodded at his back and he knew he had the other guy’s attention now too. He raised his hands again and moved his eyes to Ollie’s. As he did, the slightest movement caught his eye from the still-open door at the top of the tattoo shop stairs. Vidar was nearly one with the shadows in the stairwell, and with Justin’s back to him and Dagen blocking the other guy’s view, he had the perfect opportunity to get the jump on them. Dagen tried not to let the crippling relief show on his face as he let his eyes swing to Ollie’s and tried to send the same message that he’d sent before. Don’t panic. Be ready.

  Niko was up on his knees now, pleading with Justin to please let Ollie and Dagen go. Justin’s face was turning a deep, splotchy red.

  “Don’t lie to me! I know you took my fucking drugs! Where are they?” The hand he still had buried in Ollie’s hair gave a violent shake and Ollie winced.

  “I…I d-” Niko gasped, between sobs.

  Dagen glanced back at Vidar, who’d stepped closer to the door, and prepared to move. His brother’s eyes jerked to Justin, and Dagen gave the tiniest nod of his chin. Vidar would go for Justin while Dagen dispatched the one behind him. Subtly shifting his weight, Dagen got ready to spin. He couldn’t feel the gun pressing into his back anymore, and a glance out of the corner of his eye told him the man had lowered the gun somewhat and was watching Justin terrorize Ollie and Niko.