Protecting His Subs

by Eileen Green

On days that she came home from her twenty-four-hour shift, she usually went straight to bed, and after the night she most likely had, it was possible she might still be asleep.

  The living room was empty and illuminated by one light that was left on next to the couch. Moving through the apartment, he found Jackson and Abigail asleep in her bed.

  Tinker made his way back to the living room. He loaded the fireplace with wood and lit the kindling. When it caught the flame, he blew on it, hoping the logs would catch fire. Leaving it alone, he went into the kitchen, took a container of stew from the freezer, and put it in the microwave to thaw.

  Abigail’s bed was too small for the three of them, so he went down to his own apartment. There he showered and changed into something comfortable. Making his way back to Abigail’s apartment, he settled himself in front of the fire.

  He wasn’t sure how long he had been sitting there, staring into the dancing flames, but he started when two hands slid over his shoulders. The scent of Jackson filled the air as his hands moved down to Tinker’s chest.

  “Hello, lover,” Jackson whispered in his ear. “I’ve missed you.”

  Smiling, Tinker covered Jackson’s hands with his own. “I’ve missed you, too.”

  “Abigail’s still asleep. Last night apparently wore her out.” Jackson knelt behind him, his arms still over his shoulders. “While she’s sleeping, we need to talk.”

  This didn’t sound good, but it couldn’t be about breaking up. He had said he loved me.

  Tinker started to turn, but Jackson kept him in place by not releasing him. “What’s going on?” He tried to sound cheerful.

  Jackson took a deep breath. “As you know, I had been involved in a mission that went wrong. I had killed the cartel leader’s brother, and now he wants revenge. The problem is, that cartel has a control on half the illegal drugs that are brought into Denver. He has people here, and has offered a large reward for my capture. He doesn’t want me dead, for he wants me taken back to Mexico to torture.”

  “Well, we can’t let that happen,” Tinker offered.

  “I know.” Jackson sighed. “Unfortunately, it’s not that simple. I’m afraid they’ll come after you or Abigail, and I can’t let that happen.”

  Pulling against Jackson’s hands, Tinker was able to turn to face his lover, his Dom. He tried to blink away the tears that had filled his eyes before Jackson could see them, but he failed.

  Tinker knew what Jackson was doing. He was going to leave them. Leave them so he could protect them, but Tinker wasn’t going to have any of that.

  “You’re. Not. Leaving. Us.” Tinker bit out his words, holding his head up. Defiance wasn’t always a good thing against a Dom, but he had to make his stand.

  He was shocked by the sad, scared look on Jackson’s face. “I have to. These men can take one or both of you and do horrible things to get me to come to them. They have no scruples as drug dealers. They steal, and murder people. Women are raped before they are killed. I can’t let that happen to either one of you.”

  Tinker knew deep down inside that Jackson was right, but he didn’t want to admit it, let alone accept it. He couldn’t argue the fact with him because Tinker knew that Jackson would just walk away from them and disappear into oblivion.

  “I need you to be strong for Abigail, to be there for her. She’s going to need you to get through this,” Jackson said, choking back a sob. “I want you to be together, and for you to take care of her for the rest of your lives. You need to live a regular life with no fear.”

  “You can’t leave us,” Tinker cried, hanging his head in defeat. “You can’t. You said you wanted to grow old with us. You are our family.”

  “And it’s for that reason I have to leave. A man takes care of his family, and that’s what I’m doing. I’m taking care of you by walking away.”

  Jackson lifted Tinker’s head with one finger under his chin. He leaned in close and placed a sizzling kiss on Tinker’s lips, but pulled away before Tinker could gather him close.

  As Tinker sat there, tears streaming down his cheeks, he watched as Jackson stood and headed for the door. He turned back as he opened the door, letting cold air rush in. The cold air that would fill Tinker and Abigail’s hearts for the rest of the lives.

  “I do love you, Tinker Jameson. And tell Abigail I love her, too.”

  With that, the door closed. Tinker knew there was no sense in chasing after Jackson, for his mind was made up.

  Sitting there crying, Tinker wasn’t sure how to tell Abigail. She was going to be as heartbroken as he was.

  Although Tinker understood that Jackson was trying to protect them, he wasn’t sure if he could ever forgive him. He didn’t love them enough to stay and protect them himself.

  The past two weeks of his life had been his happiest. He had really come alive thanks to Jackson Malone, as had Abigail.

  He would do as Jackson had requested and stay with Abigail if she chose to do so. It would have to be her decision, and Tinker did have to wonder if perhaps she only accepted him because of Jackson.

  The truth would reveal itself soon, for Abigail would wake and want to know where Jackson had gone off to. Tinker wasn’t sure how he was going to explain it to her if he couldn’t get his emotions under control.

  Chapter Ten

  “No!” Abigail wailed as she sank to the floor. Her sobs were loud and hurt her chest. Tinker’s arms wrapped around her from behind as he cried along with her. “How could he have done this to us? Did he really love us, Tinker? Or, was he just pretending?”

  She felt Tinker shrug from behind her. His tears were falling on her shoulder, soaking the material of the T-shirt she had donned once she had awakened.

  Tinker had explained what had happened when she woke and went out to the living room to find Jackson. The bed was empty when she opened her eyes. Her stomach was growling, and she did smell her mother’s stew, so she assumed he had taken out of the freezer and warmed it up.

  She put on a pair of leggings with geometrical patterns all over them and a yellow T-shirt. As she walked out into the hallway, an eerie silence reached her ears. The pop and sizzle of the fire was the only thing she could hear.

  Stepping into the living room, she found Tinker sitting in front of her fire, his shoulders hunched over. She moved over to where he sat and sank to her knees next to him. “Hi,” she said cheerfully before she looked at him.

  Surprise struck her when she caught him trying to turn his head. She caught something shiny on his cheek, and it looked like a tear.

  “Tinker, what’s wrong?” she asked as she turned his head back to her. His face was red and tear streaked. She gasped. “What’s the matter, honey?”

  It had taken him a few tries to get the words out, but once he did, she fell apart. The floor to her life had been pulled out, and she felt like she was falling. Her heart was aching at the loss, and her life felt empty.

  “He wants us to be together, Abi, and I want you to know that I am here for you. If you want that, then I swear, I will never walk away from you, no matter what.” A sob emanated from Tinker. “But, if you don’t want a relationship with me, I’ll understand. I’ll still be your gay friend from down the hall.”

  Abigail couldn’t believe what Tinker had said. Turning in his arms, she looked up into his gleaming dark eyes. She cupped his face in her hands. “I want to be with you, Tinker. I have since the day I met you. It was a misunderstanding that kept me from you for three years. I have you now, and I won’t let you go.”

  Tinker gathered her in his arms, holding her tight. They remained like that for a long time, just absorbing the fire.

  * * * *

  The lobby of the club was empty for it being a Wednesday night, which he was thankful for. He didn’t want to encounter anyone for he knew how he looked.

  He had cried all the way back here from Abigail’s. The loss of the two most precious people in the world to him was devastating. Seeing the look of disbelief in Tinker’s eyes as h
e was told Jackson was walking away from them, physically hurt.

  Sitting at home the night before as he watched the fire updates on TV gave him too much time to think. The thought of Garza’s men getting a hold of Abigail or Tinker scared the shit out of Jackson. He couldn’t think about them getting hurt, or worse, because of him. He had definitely made the right choice.

  His footsteps were loud on the hardwood floor as he walked over to the elevator. Punching the button, he waited for the car to come down.

  “What did you decide?” Alex asked behind him.

  Alex was a sneaky bastard sometimes, but looking down at his friend’s feet, he found the club owner in his socks. In fact, he was wearing dark gray sweats, top and bottom, sweat marks on the shirt. He had been in the gym.

  The elevator dinged, and then the doors opened. “Let’s go upstairs so I don’t have to see any other people.” Jackson stepped into the elevator and waited for Alex. He knew he was going to get an earful from his former leader, and he would rather do it while he had a beer in his hands.

  Alex joined him, and the two waited in silence until the doors opened on the top floor of the warehouse that was the club and his and Alex’s home.

  Jackson knew that Alex had been house hunting recently. The man wanted a house for Emma and Trevor and for any new family that came along. Living on top of the club was too close, for Alex would go down on his nights off to make sure everything was running smoothly. He needed to get far enough away so that dungeon monitors weren’t always calling him about this or that. He needed to make a home for a family.

  The thought had been playing around in Jackson’s mind in the past few weeks. He wanted the house, the picket fence, and the whole family angle. The prospect of house hunting with Abigail and Tinker had become a dream of his. Now, that had all been shattered. He would go into the witness protection plan, never to be heard from again.

  Leading Alex to his apartment, he opened the door, the one he never had to lock, and let Alex in. Jackson followed him in. As he closed the door, Alex was already grabbing two bottles from the fridge.

  Jackson sat on one of the barstools at the counter that separated the kitchen from the living room. Alex leaned against the counter in the kitchen with him and opened both beers. He handed one to Jackson. Both took a swig and let the silence reign for a few minutes.

  Alex wasn’t going to be judgmental of Jackson, or he at least thought so.

  “You’re taking the deal, aren’t you?” Alex asked point-blank.

  He knew what had been offered by John Drake. They had talked long enough to allow Jackson to make his own decisions.

  The decision made was the one that would protect his loved ones.

  “I don’t see any way but the logical one,” Jackson replied with a shrug.

  They were both grown men, but the way that Alex was looking at him was as if he had done wrong. Perhaps Alex didn’t understand.

  “I have to keep them safe, Cap,” Jackson explained, using Alex’s rank in the Navy. “And, the only way I can do that is to walk away.”

  Alex shook his head before downing a long draw on his beer. He set the bottle down on the counter a bit too hard. Jackson flinched.

  “You were never a quitter, Jackson. When we were in Afghanistan and pinned down by ISIS, you were separated from us along with those civis and being pinned down by gunfire. You didn’t give up. You figured out a way to get them over the wall and to us without out getting any of them shot.” The Cap always would put him in his place.

  “Getting onto that freighter, it was nearly impossible to get to the hold, but you managed, without any injuries. You took out those pirates when you got surrounded. In Garza’s compound, you didn’t give up, even when you were shot. You got the guy who shot you. Being pinned down, you were able to take out quite a few of the guard and Garza’s brother while waiting for us to get back to you.”

  Jackson couldn’t argue with what Alex was saying.

  Alex continued. “We never leave a man behind. Never.”

  “I know that, Cap,” Jackson said, his irritation showing.

  “Then why are you leaving your family behind?”

  Alex asked the question and then walked out, leaving Jackson to sit there and think about what his commanding officer had said.

  He was right. Jackson hadn’t let them in on the decision. He had made up his mind and left his lovers behind.

  Feeling the cad, Jackson sat and went over the pros and cons for about an hour. He also had to find a way to keep Tinker and Abigail safe. If they stayed inside his apartment 24/7, he’d be happy. However, he knew that they both had jobs.

  He was still on the fence about what to do. At one time, it was just him and his team that he had to worry about disappointing. Now, he had two other people to think of, and even though he had made a decision regarding them, he knew Alex had been right. It was something he should have talked over with them.

  * * * *

  Tinker was lying next to Abigail in her bed. Besides the scent of vanilla wafting up to him from her as she slept with her head on his chest, he could smell Jackson’s body wash on the pillow. It was a reminder of who had been in their lives.

  He had to insist that Abigail eat some of the stew he had warmed up for her. She had said she wasn’t hungry, but he knew she probably hadn’t eaten much when she had arrived home.

  Her body sagged with defeat, sadness, and anger. She had cried until she didn’t have any more tears to shed, and when that had happened, she went on a name-calling tirade. Luckily, she hadn’t picked up anything and thrown it at the door as Tinker had been tempted to do.

  When she had fallen asleep in his arms as they sat quietly on the couch after dinner, Tinker had picked her up and carried her to bed. He wanted to make sure she woke up with at least him in her bed, so he was here for the night.

  Listening to her breathe was a welcome sound. He knew he wasn’t going to be able to sleep, and he didn’t think he could take the silence.

  His phone vibrated on the nightstand next to the bed. Picking it up, he kept the screen away from Abigail so she wasn’t disturbed by the light on the display.

  Can we talk?

  No! he responded.

  Please?

  Tinker could practically hear Jackson’s voice in his head with each question.

  No!

  I screwed up, but I need to talk to you both.

  You’ve ripped out Abi’s heart. You told me, but she had to hear it secondhand. How do you think she feels right now?

  There was no response.

  So, that was it? Jackson was going to quit after that?

  Tinker thought that Jackson was made of better stuff.

  There was no question that he was going to get Jackson back in their lives, but he was going to need to do a lot more than a few texts to get back in their good graces.

  Wanting that connection with Jackson, Tinker stuffed his phone in the pocket of his sweats. He also didn’t want the device vibrating on the table for it might wake up Abigail. He wanted her to sleep as long as possible.

  He lay awake throughout the night. The curtains in the bedroom were open. The window faced west, and at the moment, the light from the next block over giving the room a soft glow.

  It began to snow around three in the morning. Tinker watched as it fell outside, providing the city with a white blanket.

  He didn’t want to go to work. Abigail was going to need him, and he didn’t want her sitting at home all day moping and crying. He made the decision to stay home.

  Perhaps Jackson would come slinking back in the morning.

  He must have dozed, for he was awoken by a noise in the living room. It sounded like the snick of the door closing.

  Jackson never gave her back his key. He must have let himself in wanting a confrontation when they woke up.

  There were hushed voices coming from the living room, but they didn’t belong to Jackson. They sounded like they were speaking in Spanish. Had he been
right when he said they would be used as pawns to get to him?

  Putting a hand over Abigail’s mouth, he shook her awake and put a finger to his own mouth. He pointed at the walk-in closet, and the two rose off the bed and hurried inside. There was a pile of blankets that Abigail kept in the back corner, ones that she bought when they were on sale. She would put a couple in the ambulance along with some stuffed teddy bears for people who might need them while out on a run.

  Blindly, for he didn’t want to turn on the interior light, he piled blankets on top of Abigail as she huddled in the corner. There weren’t enough to hide him, but he was willing to risk getting captured if it meant Abigail was safe.

  He slipped his phone to Abi. “Text Jackson,” he instructed quietly. “Don’t make a sound, no matter what you hear. I love you.”

  A small, muffled “I love you too” sounded from under the pile of clothes.

  There was no telling how long it was before the closet door opened quickly as the light was switched on. Looking up, Tinker found a semi-automatic weapon being moved from side to side. It stopped on him, and he knew things were going to get interesting.

  “Get up,” the man behind the gun ordered in broken English. “Hurry up!”

  Tinker rose to his feet and then held his hands up around his shoulders in surrender. As he stepped out and past the one man at the door, the man pushed him. Struggling to stay on his feet, Tinker’s hand landed on the mirrored tray Abigail kept on the dresser. It held her perfumes, which were scattered when he hit them. The mirror broke under his strength.

  Nothing was broken he could tell, but his hand smarted. The man behind him pushed again. Anger was beginning to build within Tinker, and he had to tell himself not to let it go.

  As he moved through the bedroom door into the hallway, he noticed another man looking in the closet. Tinker’s heart seemed to leap into his throat as he feared for his woman. He sent up a small prayer that she would be safe.