Breaking Free (The Den Boys Book 3)

by A. T Brennan

  Tristan paused and then looked at Rhys.

  “I’ve got it if you want to go,” Rhys said quickly.

  “Sure.”

  Tristan’s voice was a little clipped, and his posture was still so stiff I imagined I could lay him out across two chairs and use him as a balance beam, but at least he was willing to go with me.

  I waited for Tristan to come around the bar and fell into step beside him as we made our way outside. I kept about an inch of space between us and stayed half a step ahead so he could see I didn’t pose a threat to him.

  Once we were outside Tristan turned to the left, and we ended up in the small alley between the bar and the building beside it.

  “Don’t mind the smell.” Tristan leaned against the wall of the building, his back still straight and his eyes on a spot way above my head.

  It took a moment for me to realize the dumpsters were at the end of the alley.

  “It’s fine. I’m going to be spending my days in worse smells when I’m done school. I barely notice it.”

  Tristan’s gaze slid to mine at my comment. I’d piqued his interest. “What do you mean by that?”

  “I’m going to be a vet. Animals are cute, but they can be real stinkers sometimes.”

  Tristan cracked a smile and nodded. “Our dog was like that. He would let out the worst farts. There were times he’d be sleeping and drop ass so bad he’d wake up and run. Damn dog could clear a room.”

  I laughed and leaned against the wall. “My friend’s dog was like that. Only I think he used to time his farts. He’d walk through a room, let one rip and keep walking. Nasty.”

  Tristan chuckled. “You ever have a dog?”

  “Nope. Never had any pets.”

  “But you want to be a vet?”

  “I do. Have since I was a kid.”

  “So you’re pretty smart?”

  “I get by.” I shrugged, happy to see Tristan relax a bit as we continued to talk.

  “Why are you being so nice to me?” he asked after a pause, his dark eyes on mine.

  “I know what it’s like to feel like things are spinning out of control. I figured Rhys couldn’t leave to help, so I took a chance that you’d let me.”

  “What makes you feel like that?” he asked quietly.

  “Losing control. When things seem like they’re going to fall apart and there’s nothing I can do to fix them.” I glanced at Tristan and saw him nod slowly. “My mom was diagnosed with cancer a few years ago. I’d had issues with anxiety before then but could always control it. When she got sick, it all came crashing down on me.”

  “How did you get through it?”

  “My friend Levi. His parents spent a small fortune on getting him ‘help’,” I made little air quotes with my fingers. “Not all of it was good for him, but he was able to teach me a few things.”

  “They tried at the VA hospital, but the shit they told me to do doesn’t work in the real world.”

  I tried to keep my face neutral at his statement. VA hospital? Tristan was a veteran?

  “Like what?” I asked softly.

  “Picturing my happy place. I never found it so that doesn’t work. There was this hourglass thing that helped. It was two toned so every time I flipped it I could watch the colors settle, but I’m not going to walk around with an hourglass in my pocket. Plus, I’ve never found one like it.”

  “Any other tricks?”

  “Grounding, but that only works during an attack, not before. What works for you?”

  “Refocusing. Trying to get my mind to focus on something else.”

  “Like what?”

  “Music, dancing.” I shrugged. “When things got really bad, I’d choreograph simple dances in my head until the panic went away. If that didn’t cut it, then I’d repeat something in my mind until it was all I could think about.”

  “I’ve never tried either of those. Everything I was taught told me to let my mind go blank.”

  “A blank mind always fills with the worst thoughts, at least for me.”

  “Me too. So, you’re a dancer?” Tristan asked, changing the subject.

  His voice was strong and clear now, and he seemed relaxed.

  “Yeah. I dance at Chimera.”

  “I never could dance, even before this.” He nodded to his right leg. “And I can’t handle clubs anymore.”

  I wanted to ask him what had happened but kept my mouth shut. It wasn’t my place to ask him anything, especially since this was our first conversation.

  “Dancing helps me focus. The money’s good, and I like it. A lot of guys have certain assumptions about go-go dancers, but whatever. It’s what I do, and I own it.” I shrugged.

  “Like what kind of assumptions?”

  “That we’re all easy. You have no idea how many guys I’ve had to turn down after they’d offered me sex for cash, like a fucking hooker.”

  “If people assume things about you, that’s on them,” Tristan said simply. “That’s their issue. It has nothing to do with you or what you do. Don’t let anyone make you feel bad about yourself.”

  “I try not to.” I smiled at Tristan’s words. I’d never heard it put quite like that, but he was right.

  “I’d better get back in. Rhys will freak if I’m out for too long.” Tristan smiled fondly.

  “You’re close?”

  “He’s my brother. Not literally, of course. But he’s been more of a brother to me than mine ever have.”

  “It’s good you have someone like that.” I pushed off the wall and followed Tristan back into the bar.

  “Thanks, Kai.” He turned and smiled at me as we reached the front door. It lit up his entire face and took all the worry lines and stress away from his features. He looked like a completely different man than the one I’d seen when I first walked in.

  I nodded, smiling back at him. “It was nice to meet you.”

  “You too.”

  Zander and Rhys were standing at the bar talking to an older man when we walked in. As soon as the door opened, all three men turned to stare at us. Rhys looked relieved, the older man seemed curious, and Zander looked confused.

  “Hey.” I stopped a few feet in front of Zander, not sure how to greet him.

  “Hey.” He smiled and leaned forward, brushing his lips against my cheek in a brief kiss. Okay, so kisses hello were fine, just not goodbye?

  “You’ve already met Rhys and Tristan,” he continued, coming to stand next to me. “This is Evan. He owns the bar.”

  “Hi, it’s nice to meet you.” I held my hand out and smiled as Evan shook it.

  “You too, Kai.” He glanced at Zander and then back at me. His expression told me he had more to say, but he kept it to himself.

  Evan was also incredibly handsome but in a rugged and mature way. He was taller than Zander and built like a brick shit house. His eyes were deep brown and intense, and while he wasn’t scowling, his features seemed tight. It didn’t take away from his good looks, but it made me wonder what had happened to make him look like that.

  “Ready to order, or do you need a menu?” Zander asked as he turned to me.

  “Whatever beer is on tap, and you promised food,” I reminded him.

  “You like greasy bar appetizers?” he asked with a grin.

  “Oh hell, yeah.” I nodded enthusiastically.

  “Two IPAs and an app platter,” Zander ordered as he turned to Rhys.

  Rhys punched in the order while Tristan poured our drinks. I was about to offer to pay when Zander pulled out his wallet.

  “Employee discount.” He winked, and I smiled, glad he wasn’t making a big show about telling me that he would buy the first round.

  As Tristan slid our drinks over, Rhys looked between the beer and me.

  “What? You thought I’d get some fussy cocktail?” I raised my eyebrow at him as I picked up the cool glass.

  “No, sorry—”

  “Don’t worry about it. Not the first time someone has assumed something about me.”


  Tristan grinned at my pun, leaving Rhys looking more than a bit confused.

  “I’ll be in the back if you need me.” Evan nodded to the office door. “Blaze and Cody will be in soon so try and get the inventory and restock done. I have a feeling things will be picking up later.”

  Rhys and Tristan nodded.

  “It was nice to meet you, Kai.”

  “You too, Evan.”

  Zander nodded for me to follow him as Tristan and Rhys got to work.

  “So, how was your day?” Zander asked as soon as we’d sat down.

  “Okay. I had a lab this afternoon that dragged on forever and a day. My partner for the class is a slacker. He showed up hungover and expected me to do all the work while he sat there playing on his phone.”

  “Is this the first time he’s done that?”

  “Nope. Pretty much every time we do group work he’s pulled this.” I took a sip of my beer, relishing the crisp and clean flavor as it burst over my tongue. It was also cold enough to frost the glass. Exactly how I liked it.

  “Can you talk to your professor?”

  “It’s not worth it. At least this way I know it’s done right.”

  “You don’t mind carrying him like that?”

  “Meh.” I took another drink. “Eventually he’ll get a partner who won’t and then he’ll be screwed. It’s easier to just let it go.”

  “Easier, huh,” he gave me a pointed look.

  I sighed and looked into my glass. I hadn’t planned on telling him this part, but I needed to explain that I wasn’t some passive doormat. I had a reason.

  “The first day we were paired together he kept calling everything gay. This class is gay. The lab is gay. The party he wanted to go to got canceled. Gay.” I shook my head. “I asked him to stop using that word as a slur, and he laughed and told me to get over it.”

  “Did you push it with him?” Zander asked as he took a drink of his beer.

  “I did. I told him I was gay, and I didn’t appreciate him saying that in front of me.”

  “What happened?” Zander asked tightly when I fell silent.

  “He said that he’d figured out I was a ‘fag’,” I almost spit out, I fucking hated that word, “before I even opened my mouth. Then he made a crack telling me to make sure I kept my mind off his dick and on the labs and we’d be fine.”

  “Fucking asshole,” Zander seethed, his hand gripping his glass tight enough I was worried he might break it.

  “I’ve heard worse. You don’t grow up my height, with my build and like guys without people being assholes about it. At least it was just words.”

  “Have you had someone do more than just use words?” Zander asked, his voice heavy with rage.

  “I got beat up in school a few times.” I shrugged. “There was this one guy, Emmet, and he hated me. He would knock my books out of my hands and shove me into lockers. He called me every name you can think of. It started when we were in middle school. He and his cronies cornered me a few times saying I was checking out their junk in PE, and they beat me up. I wasn’t even out at this point, but they knew.” I sighed. “After I came out and Mom and I moved, I switched schools and met Brian.”

  “Brian?”

  “My high school boyfriend,” I clarified.

  “Did it get better?”

  “Much. People were accepting of us. We were open in school, went to prom together and everything.” I grinned at the memories. “There were a few asshats who had shit to say about us, but no one hurt us. Probably helped that Brian was a big man around campus.” I laughed.

  “What do you mean?”

  “He was on the school football team.”

  “Quarterback?” Zander asked with a grin.

  “Running back.” I shook my head. “I learned a lot about football after we got together.”

  “So he protected you?”

  “I think his reputation and his status in the school protected me to a certain extent, but we weren’t the only gay kids in our grade, and definitely not in the school. Like I said, it was pretty tolerant.”

  “I never had that in school. I didn’t come out until college.” Zander admitted.

  “Did you have a hard time?”

  “Not really. No one suspected. I kept it hidden, and I was pretty popular.”

  “Did you date girls?”

  Zander looked away, and I knew what that meant. He’d used beards like so many young gay men.

  “A few. I cared about them, liked them, but I knew I could never love them.”

  “Did you tell them the truth?”

  “No. I should have; I know that, but I couldn’t.”

  “Did you sleep with them?” I almost slapped my hand over my mouth. That wasn’t any of my business.

  “Yes.” He nodded. “I had three girlfriends. One each year after I realized at the end of freshman year that people would start talking. I slept with all three.”

  “How?” I had to ask. “I don’t think I could get it up for a girl. I’ve never tried, mind you, but I don’t think I could get hard.”

  “I was a teenager. A strong wind could’ve gotten me hard.” He chuckled. “I only did it a few times with each of them. I put it off as long as I thought I could and managed. I did what I could to make it good for them, but I knew it wasn’t what I wanted.”

  “So would you say you’re bi?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “But I guess I lean a little more towards the center of the scale than some guys.”

  “That’s kinda cool.”

  “Really?” Zander raised his eyebrow before taking another drink.

  “Labels are so confining.” I shrugged. “I think it’s cool that you’re comfortable enough with yourself to just be you and own it. The only other guys I know who’ve been with girls talk about it like it was some big secret or they’ve broken some sort of code.”

  “I’ve never understood that.” He shook his head. “Someone’s past is whatever they wanted it to be. It’s not like you get extra points for only being with men.”

  “Really? You mean you’re going to take away my gold star?” I teased.

  “Yup. I’m taking it and tossing it out with the empties.”

  “Damn it. That’s like, the only thing I’ve ever won.”

  “But did you actually win it or even earn it?” he asked playfully.

  “No, I guess not. Fine. Take it away.”

  Just then our number was called out, and Zander went to get our food. He came back with a giant platter of bar food, and I almost started salivating.

  There were wings, mozza sticks, breaded zucchini, loaded potato skins, fries, sweet potato fries, and what looked like jalapeño poppers.

  “Need a refill before we dig in?” Zander asked, nodding to our half-empty drinks.

  “I can’t guarantee that I’ll be able to hold off until you get back,” I warned. Almost as if to prove my statement true, my stomach growled.

  “Dig in, Just save me one of everything.” He winked and headed back to the bar.

  “I’m not that much of a pig,” I muttered, knowing better than to shout that out loud.

  I picked up a mozza stick and dipped it in the marinara sauce they’d put in one of those tiny cups and almost started purring when I bit off a piece. The cheese was still hot but not enough to burn, and the breading was crispy but not greasy. I finished off the stick and then grabbed a popper and dunked it in what I hoped was ranch dressing before cramming the whole thing in my mouth.

  Yup, it was jalapeño.

  My eyes watered slightly as the heat from the peppers hit my throat, but the balance with the sweet cheese made it so the heat wasn’t overwhelming.

  “You need a moment alone with that?” Zander asked with a grin as he sat down again, sliding a fresh beer toward me.

  I’d just taken a bite of a loaded potato skin and was in the process of counting the flavors when he’d come back. There were five that I could taste. The potato was soft, and the skin w
as crispy, the sour cream offset the cheddar cheese mixed into the filling, and then there were the real bacon crumbles that added a hint of salt to the mix.

  “We’re good.” I finished my mouthful and grinned. “I’ll just put on a show for you.”

  Zander’s eyes darkened at my words, and that’s when I realized their double meaning.

  “So, your shows,” Zander popped one of the poppers in his mouth, seemingly unaffected by the heat of the peppers.

  “My cam ones?” I had to make sure he wasn’t talking about my dancing.

  “Yeah.”

  “What about them?”

  Was he going to ask me to stop doing them? I needed the money, and I liked doing them. I could understand if it made him uncomfortable, but was I willing to give them up if he asked?

  “Do you think it would be weird if I... I mean, I was maybe going to...”

  “Watch them?” I asked cautiously.

  “Yeah. I didn’t see more than a few minutes of that one show. I’m curious.”

  “It won’t bother you?”

  “Believe it or not, no.” He finished off his first beer and pushed the glass aside. “The thought of other guys getting off watching you, knowing you’re only with me... it’s kind of hot.”

  “Like what you were saying about my dancing?” I asked carefully.

  “Exactly like that, only better because no one can put their hands on you when you’re on cam.”

  “I don’t let guys—”

  “Relax.” Zander grinned. “I meant when they’re shoving tips in your shorts.”

  “Oh, well, yeah. That does happen.”

  “So, would it be weird? I wanted to ask you before I did.”

  “Not at all.” I flushed and picked up a zucchini stick. “I was actually thinking it would be hot if you were.”

  “Really?”

  I nodded and stuffed the zucchini in my mouth, trying not to blush. “Just don’t tell me your screen name. I like the idea of anonymity. If I knew you were there, it might be too much for me.”

  “How so?”

  “I think about you when I do them. Ever since that first night, after the club. Last night I wondered if you were logged in and the thought of you watching... well, it got me a little too excited.”

  “What do you mean?” Zander asked, a lascivious gleam in his eyes.