Simply Perfection

by Trina Lane

  “Rick’s in charge of entertainment. He and Ethan are challenging anyone who’s gotten a little too wound up to a game of Halo on Trevor’s Xbox.”

  Niall’s shoulders shook with silent laughter. “Sounds good. We’re almost done here then I’ll be coming home. I could use a little stress relief when I get there.”

  “Don’t worry, caro. I’ll take care of you.”

  Niall glanced over his shoulder to see the captain’s back turned his direction. He slipped his hand over his cock and adjusted himself. “I’ll hold you to that, love.”

  Niall hung up with Matt and turned to see Frederick with a confused look on his face. “What’s wrong? Did you hear from Logan? Did dispatch say anything else?”

  “I thought you were Trevor’s partner?”

  “I am.” Niall handed over the print and CD.

  “Then who did you just call ‘love’?”

  “That was Matt. He’s our other partner.”

  Fredericks jaw dropped to the floor, and the papers nearly slid out of his hand. “Other…you mean there are three of you…together?”

  “Yes. I love and share my life with two men, as do they.” Niall shut down his computer then faced Fredericks.

  The captain’s face didn’t scream hate or intolerance. In fact, Niall had been impressed by how remarkably professional the captain had been regarding his relationship with Trevor. Maybe working with both Trevor and Logan every day had opened Frederick’s eyes to acceptance of gay relationships, or maybe he was one of the few of his generation who never had any prejudice in the first place.

  “People actually do that? Not just for sex, but live that way?”

  “Sure. We have some good friends who are in a ménage marriage with their wife. They have three beautiful children and couldn’t be happier.”

  Fredericks shook his head and turned to leave the studio. “Man, I’m getting too old for this stuff.”

  Niall laughed, “We’re not exactly trend setters. Relationships like our have existed since the beginning of time. I was raised by my grandparents who were also a threesome.”

  He was in the process of locking the studio door when Fredericks’ phone went off.

  “This is Fredericks.”

  Niall stood with the snow blowing around them, unabashedly listening in on one side of the conversation. He looked up to the sky and prayed that Trevor wasn’t out in this crap somewhere without protection. Since they’d left Trevor’s apartment, a good three inches had piled up on top of the five that had come down that morning. Niall started to rub his hands together and bounce on the balls of his feet. His condo was only minutes away and he wanted to get back there. It seemed that the captain was immobile as a statue, despite the freezing temperatures and wind blowing at them off the harbour.

  Captain Fredericks closed his phone, turned to Niall and smiled. “That was Logan. We got him.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Trevor’s wrists burned and were slick as blood dripped onto the palms of his hands. He refused to give up. He screamed behind the tape and with a great wrench, he gave one last twist. Something gave in the binding. His chest heaved with exertion, and he tried again. There was definite slack now. Gathering every last ounce of strength in his weakened body, he pulled his wrists apart and the tape gave way. His hands were free!

  He yanked the blindfold off and pulled out the ear plugs. For the first time he got a look at his jail cell. It took several seconds before his eyes focused and images took shape. Stone walls, slick in spots with moisture. He took a deep breath and ripped the tape from his mouth, trying not to scream in pain as the adhesive took off several layers of skin.

  Trevor bent over and his head swam. He hadn’t slept or eaten since he’d been taken, and his body was most likely hypothermic. He tried to grip the edge of the tape wrapped around his ankles, but his fingers were so stiff they didn’t want to work. He tried again. This time he managed to get the edge stuck to the tip of his finger and used that to unravel the tape. Within minutes, he was finally free.

  Trevor longed to slump in the chair and try to catch his breath, but his kidnapper could return at any second. He needed to be ready. Needles of pain stabbed his fingers as the feeling started to come back. He tried to contain the whimpers, but knew a few escaped.

  Trevor adjusted his clothing and tried to find his shoes, but there was no sign of them. He stood and his legs promptly gave out. Trevor clung to the chair and pulled himself upright. He braced himself against the furniture until his legs felt as if they were made of more than Jell-O. His eyes scanned the room to see if there were any clues as to his whereabouts, but the darkened room revealed no secrets. There was a window behind him but a wooden plank covered the portal to the outside world. He limped over and reached up to see if there was any way he could get out that way. It was high up the wall, higher than Trevor could reach, even with good legs beneath him. He carried the chair over and used the wall as support to climb up and steady him once his head was level with the opening.

  There was no way he was getting out that way. Not only would he somehow have to break the plywood and the glass, but Trevor knew he didn’t have the strength in his body to climb up through the miniscule exit. He collapsed to his knees on the chair and got back down to the floor. He turned in circles trying to find another way out. There was only one door at the top of a set of stairs.

  Trevor made his way over, using the wall for support. He put one foot on the stairs, then another. Although there were only six it seemed like the climb took forever. His hand trembled when he reached for the knob. Nothing happened. Locked. Trevor slumped on the steps and tears streamed from his eyes. He’d tried. Tried so hard to get home to Matt and Niall.

  After several gasping breaths, Trevor swiped at his damp cheeks. The bruise from his kidnapper’s slap throbbed with the rough treatment. There was only one more option. He slowly made his way back down the stairs. The stairs were built into a channel. Trevor collected the chair from the other side of the room. He stood with his back against the wall beside the stair. The position was a blind spot to anyone making their way down into the basement. He would wait—wait until the fucker made an appearance—then Trevor would take him out.

  The longer Trevor waited, the more his body wanted to give up. His eyes and limbs grew heavy, but he dug his fingers into the wood. Splinters gathered beneath his fingernails, but Trevor used the pain to keep him focused.

  There was creak. A rattle at the top of the stairs. Trevor felt a draught as the door swung open. He lifted the chair, preparing to swing with all his might. Footsteps descended the wooden treads. He had to time this right or everything would be for naught. He counted off the seconds in his head. Six steps, six seconds maybe a fraction more. Three…two…one…

  “Good evening, my pet.”

  Trevor swung. He swung that chair as if he were aiming for the green monster at Fenway Park. There a great crack as part of the chair collided with the concrete wall and a thud, followed by a moan. Trevor jumped out and his eyes widened as they got their first look at the man who tried to destroy his life.

  Trevor straddled the man’s waist and started wailing on him. His fists connected with flesh over and over. His knuckles split and blood from his kidnapper mixed with that already on his palms. The once handsome face below him turned into pulverised mush as Trevor released every ounce of hate, fear and uncertainty through his punches.

  “Why? Why you son of bitch!”

  Steve moaned and Trevor wrapped his hands around Steve’s throat. His hands squeezed to the point where Steve’s face turned red. Flat brown eyes shot open, the orbs bulged and the tiny capillaries broke, turning the white of Sean’s eyes red. Large meaty hands gripped Trevor’s wrists and he screamed, but refused to let go. Only the adrenaline rushing through his body prevented him from collapsing on top of Steve.

  Trevor beat Sean’s head against the steps. “You tell me why!”

  Gurgling sounds came from Steve’s throat a
nd Trevor loosened his hands a fraction.

  “You’re mine,” Steve choked out.

  “Like fucking hell I am! You broke up with me, you fucking psycho! I never, never belonged to you!”

  Trevor kneed Steve in the balls as hard as he could. The man’s scream was music to Trevor’s ears. Trevor scrambled over the top of Steve’s body as he writhed, clutching his groin. With one final kick, Trevor sent Steve tumbling down the rest of the stairs.

  As fast as his legs could carry him, Trevor raced up the steps. He slammed the door behind him and locked it from the outside. He turned in circles. The building was dark, but Trevor made out shapes of furniture. He was in a kitchen. Old peeling wallpaper hung in strips from sagging walls. There was a chair and Trevor grabbed it then stuck it under the knob to lodge the door shut even further.

  He stumbled through the next room in what was apparently a house. There were small windows towards the top of the walls, but Trevor couldn’t see anything outside. He fumbled through the room, bumping into boxes and covered furniture. Trevor reached the front door and yanked the barrier open.

  He ran out into a blinding white snowstorm. His bare feet sunk into snow drifts up to his shins, and Trevor cried out in shock. He’d never make it anywhere in this storm. He turned to go inside, filled with dread at the thought of being trapped inside with the psycho in the basement. Trevor’s ears perked up at the sound of sirens. He looked towards the end of the street and squinted into the whipping currents of snow. The sirens were definitely getting closer. Heedless of his state, Trevor took off into the blizzard. Through the haze, blurry red and blue lights flashed.

  Trevor sucked in a great breath, the air freezing his lungs as it entered his body then yelled, “Help!” Waving his arms over the top of his head, Trevor let loose, “Help! Help me!”

  The cars slammed to a halt. Brakes screeched and rear ends slid to the side. A car door opened and a man jumped out. He started running in Trevor’s direction. Trevor’s sank to his knees in the snow. His clothing became soaked within seconds.

  “Trevor!”

  He looked up through the snow. Trevor now saw that the men thundering his direction were Matt and Niall. He’d done it. He’d survived.

  Trevor’s body was lifted up against Matt’s chest. His body jolted as Matt ran down the street. Something warm was wrapped around Trevor’s feet.

  “Open the doors!” Matt yelled.

  Trevor’s head rolled against Matt’s chest. He closed his eyes and let his body go lax, moving with Matt’s strides.

  When he opened them again, Matt was placing him on a gurney inside an ambulance. A mask was placed over his face and blankets were thrown over the top of him. He couldn’t prevent the tremors from taking over his body. His eyes watered.

  “Bello? Can you hear me? Come on, baby, show us those beautiful sky blue eyes.”

  He opened them and saw both Matt and Niall sitting next to each other on one side of the gurney. They were both crying, their hands locked together and gently placed on top of him. Matt’s smoothed his hair back and Niall’s rested on his leg.

  Trevor tried to take the mask away but the EMT wouldn’t let him, kept telling Trevor to leave it on. The warm air would help combat the hypothermia. He looked into eyes of forest green and inky black both brimming with fear, happiness and above all else, love.

  “Take me home,” he whispered.

  The edges of Trevor’s vision darkened and he welcomed the oblivion.

  * * * *

  Niall walked with Matt through the hospital corridors. They entered the waiting room and found all of their friends sitting in a circle of chairs in the corner. Each and every one of them had helped bring Trevor home and Niall would be forever grateful. How could you repay someone for returning a part of your soul?

  Calleigh stood. “How is he?”

  She had Alannah braced on her hip. The identical blond heads and bright green eyes of Brandon and Michael looked at Niall with expectation. Unlike most kids their age, they sat silently in their fathers’ laps.

  “He’s going to be fine.”

  Seven chests let out a collective sigh.

  Logan stood and came over to them. “Tell it to me straight.”

  Niall took Matt and Logan’s hands. He walked over to the group and stood as they opened the circle. “He has moderate hypothermia, and they’ve got him on warm IV fluids and oxygen. At first they were worried about frostbite on his feet, but they seem to have responded to hot water treatment. The abrasions on his wrists and ankles are painful but superficial. Trevor had an allergic reaction to whatever Hampton used to bind him, and they’re treating him with a cocktail of steroids and asthma medication.”

  Matt wrapped his arm around Niall’s waist. “They expect he should be ready for release in two to three days.”

  Conor closed his eyes and whispered, “Gabhaigí buíochas le dia na bhflaitheas, óir maireann a bhuanghrá go brách. Gie thanks ter de god in 'eaven for 'is mercy endurs forever.”

  Niall closed his eyes, “Amen.”

  Hearing Conor speak Gaelic, he was reminded of his grandmother and grandfather. They’d always supported the decision to raise Niall as part of the Mohegan tribe, but Niall knew that their heritage flowed as richly through his veins. Maybe it was time to honour that part of him more.

  Brandon tugged on his father’s pants leg. “Da?”

  “Aye?”

  “Are any more of your friends going to get hurt?”

  “I pray not, mo grian.”

  “Me too, we’ve been here way too much.”

  Snickers filled the air and Niall knelt in front of both Brandon and Michael. “The two of you have been such good friends to Trevor. I know that when he gets better, he’ll want to thank you. How does a trip to the Children’s Museum sound?”

  Michael put his fists on his hips. “Why do everybody bribe us? We’re five now and don’t fall for that nomore.”

  Niall heard Matt laughing behind him and tried very hard to keep a straight face. “It’s not a bribe, Michael. It’s a reward. We can go have a day of fun. Even five year olds like to go out and have fun, right?”

  Twin heads bobbed

  “All right ye gasurs. Stir yer stumps. We need ta gi’ yer sister ‘ome te bed.”

  Niall stood and watched as Conor, Rick and Calleigh gathered the kids’ bags. He walked with them towards the exit. Before the doors slid open, he placed a hand on Alannah’s head, sleeping on Calleigh’s shoulder. “Your husband bestowed his prayer on my family, and I ask to do the same for yours.”

  Calleigh smiled, “We would be honoured, Niall.”

  Niall lifted his hand, “Manto kôkci wuyôtam kucáhsháyuwôk wici mutáhash wimmonáyu táká wikôtamuwôk. Great Spirit, bless your family with true hearts and happiness.”

  Calleigh’s free arm came around Niall’s waist, four little arms squeezed his legs and four large hands touched the back of his head and back.

  “Thank you. That’s a beautiful language. Almost as lyrical as Conor’s Gaelic,” Rick said.

  Niall nodded. “I’ve managed to learn bits and pieces over the years.” He looked over at Conor. “Ireland is as much a part of me as the Mohegan tribe. If you’d be willing to teach me some Gaelic, I’d like learn.”

  “Aye. I’d be ‘appy te teach ye.”

  “Many thanks. Now, you need to get home and I need to go find Matt so we can be there when Trevor wakes up.”

  Niall stood by the door until the family disappeared into the night. At least it had stopped snowing. A pair of arms came around his waist and Niall leant back into Matt’s embrace.

  “You okay?”

  “Yes, I was saying goodbye. Are the others ready to leave as well?”

  “Yeah, Logan and Clay asked to see Trevor before they go, but Ethan and Ryan said they’d wait until tomorrow.”

  “Then let’s go. I need to see him again, prove to myself that our heart has been returned.”

  They found the other couple
then followed the maze of corridors until the four of them made it back to the Trevor’s private room. He’d been moved out of ICU a couple of hours ago. Niall and Matt let Logan and Clay go in first since only two people were allowed in Trevor’s room at a time. Niall leant his butt against the nurses’ station and his shoulder against Matt.

  “So what now?” he asked.

  “Now I sell my condo, we get Trevor’s apartment cleaned up and the three of us get on with our lives.”

  “I’m worried about him, Matt. Hampton had him for two days. We have no idea what he’s been through. Cataloguing his injuries doesn’t tell us his state of mind.”

  “I know, caro, believe me I know. We’ll take his recovery one day at a time. If we need to get him some help, we will. I can’t do it. I won’t do it, but I have a network of people I trust and will get a referral if needed.”

  “What about the case? Will Trevor have to sit through a trial?”

  “I don’t know. That’s a question Clay could answer for us. I was so focused on getting Trevor out of there, I never bothered to ask what happened to Hampton.”

  Clay came out of the hospital room, holding Logan’s hand. “He was arrested. Apparently when Trevor escaped, he locked Hampton in the same basement he’d been held in. He’ll be charged with assault and battery, kidnapping, stalking and whatever else the district attorney decides to pin on him. It’ll go to trial by Massachusetts law.”

  Both Clay and Logan’s eyes were a bit shiny. Niall knew it had to have been hard for them to see Trevor lying in that bed, but it was so much better than any other outcome.

  “So he’ll have to testify and everything?” Matt asked.

  “Most likely, unless some kind of plea bargain is struck.”

  “Damn. I was hoping he could avoid that kind of stress.”

  Niall rubbed Matt’s back. They’d be there for Trevor. Hold his hand and provide whatever support their lover needed to get through the ordeal. And if all Trevor needed was for Niall and Matt to get him out of his head for a little while, well, they were good at that too.