The air stilled around them as Drake waited for Scotty’s answer. It was like neither of them were breathing, both tensed and ready for anything. Drake didn’t move, didn’t twitch. He watched Scotty’s face as he debated how to answer. He raised a brow pointedly, showing his impatience with the continued silence.
Scotty shrugged loosely. “I don’t think you’ll hurt me.”
Drake felt a cruel smile spread across his lips. “Are you willing to take that risk?” Moving quick, hardly thinking before he acted, Drake closed the distance between them, his right hand shooting out, fingers wrapping around Scotty’s neck. He tightened his hold so the grip was firm, but he didn’t cut off any of Scotty’s air.
Scotty gasped at the sudden movement but didn’t fight back. He reached up one hand to grasp Drake’s wrist, but he didn’t try to pull him off. His eyes had widened, but he didn’t look away from Drake.
“I could do anything I want to you. I could kill you right here, and there isn’t anything you can do about it.”
Scotty had both hands on Drake’s wrist now, but he still didn’t fight. His eyes were wide, but he didn’t look frightened, more like reserved.
“I trust you,” Scotty choked out as Drake let his grip tighten a little more. “Drake, I trust you.”
Drake let the words tumble over him, through him. With a curse, he shoved Scotty away. Scotty fell back, clutching his throat where Drake’s fingers had been.
“Goddammit, Scotty!” Drake yelled. Scotty jumped at the sound but didn’t move any farther away. Instead he stayed the few paces away, one hand still rubbing his neck while the other hung at his side, his twitching fingers the only sign that he was nervous. Drake raked his hands through his hair.
“I’ve been trying to keep you out of all this since the moment you walked into the club. I’ve been holding myself back, keeping my distance, not letting my emotions and desires rule me. Then last night, I did. I let my guard down, and here you are. Sitting right in the middle of it. Dammit!”
Scotty reached out, but Drake batted him away.
“It’s okay! I won’t tell anyone anything, and I don’t care!” Scotty said, his voice taking on a frantic edge.
Drake stopped dead in his tracks and faced Scotty, incredulous. “You don’t care?” He took a menacing step forward, feeling guilty but a little relieved when Scotty seemed to finally see that he might very well be in danger and took a step back. Information was power, and Drake had to have as much power as possible to get Scotty out of this mess. “You attracted to the murderous type? You think it’s a turn-on beating people up because they haven’t paid back money they owe? You think it’s okay to go around and fuck people up, just because you can? You know about this stuff and you don’t fucking care?”
“Just the fact that you are so upset about it, that I would be any or all those things, tells me that you aren’t the bad guy here. You said it yourself—you have tried to keep me out of it. If you were as bad as you’re trying to claim to be, you wouldn’t have cared if I got involved.”
Drake let his anger continue to motivate his body language. He let the past and the present collide so he could continue to intimidate, even though Scotty obviously could see through him, at least to an extent. Enough to know that he wasn’t the bad guy. But Drake had done those things. He had used violence to get information and to punish. He had threatened lives. He might not have killed anyone with his own hands, but deaths had resulted due to his actions. He wasn’t a good guy. And he didn’t deserve someone like Scotty. The man was beautiful inside and out. He shouldn’t be involved with someone like Drake. Drake never should have let him continue to work at the club, especially after he started to feel things for him.
Ugh! How did he get himself into this? Thinking with his dick! Isn’t that what brought most men down?
Drake stomped up to Scotty, who held his ground, and stabbed a finger in the man’s chest. “You have no idea who I am or what I am capable of. If you want to make it out of this alive, I suggest you keep your mouth shut.”
Scotty opened his mouth to protest, but Drake cut him off. “No, we aren’t talking about this.” Drake grabbed Scotty by his thick arm, his fingers digging in enough to leave marks. “You, me, us, this—” Drake gestured between them, pushing Scotty away. “—none of this happened. I can’t tell you to stay away from the club because it will draw attention to you, but I can say that if you ever open your mouth about any of this, it may just be the last thing you ever talk about. You hear me?” Drake stared Scotty down, boring his toughened dark eyes into Scotty’s contrasting ones. He had to swallow against the dying light he saw there. He squared his shoulders. He couldn’t let a little hurt rule him; he was trying to keep Scotty alive. He was trying to keep himself alive.
He couldn’t give in, no matter how much his body ached to gather Scotty into his arms. No, that world had died and he was back in reality, and in this actuality, he was to be alone.
Indicating the door with his chin, Drake directed Scotty harshly. “Get the fuck out, and stay the hell away from me.”
Scotty stepped back from Drake and stared incredulously, and just when Drake thought he would have to stop him from trying to protest again, he shook his head, casting his eyes to the floor, and turned to leave.
The wave of relief that pulsed through Drake as he watched Scotty’s retreating figure almost took his legs out from under him, but he locked his knees to keep himself standing. This was not how he had imagined this happening. Scotty was the only good thing to come out of any of this shit, and here he was threatening him and telling him to get lost. Sure, Scotty didn’t deserve the trouble that came packaged with Drake, but didn’t Drake deserve something good in his life as well?
It was thoughts like that that had gotten him to this mess in the first place. The good that would happen in his life, the good he deserved, was seeing the cartel go down. To see it struggle or the people who killed his family go down. That’s what he lived for; that was his purpose. As much as it hurt, he needed to remember that.
Chapter 15
MUSIC PULSED loudly around Drake as he sat in the darkened booth near the rear of the club. He twirled his glass, the remaining scotch sloshing at the movement, as he watched the action. The booth he had chosen was one of his favorites because it allowed the best visual. He could see the dance floor, the front door, and at this particular moment, the area he was most interested in: the bar.
It had been an awkward couple of weeks since he had ended it with Scotty. After a couple of failed attempts to get Drake to talk to him, Scotty finally backed down, and they had been avoiding each other as much as possible ever since. Scotty never arrived early nor stayed late. He showed up for his shift, did nothing more and did nothing less. If Drake happened to be near the bar, which he did his best not to while Scotty was working, Scotty would set down a scotch without a word.
Drake thought he missed that the most. Sure, he missed the bantering and the flirting, the having Scotty look at him with lust-filled eyes, but what he missed the most was the fact that Scotty had cared that he was drinking too much. He had cared that Drake would drink and then drive. Someone had cared about him, and Drake couldn’t help but mourn that loss.
To try to keep his head clear, he decided to distract himself. He had delved into his work at the club. He had hired new talent, set up new event nights, added new special drinks to the menu, priced out new dance floors, and he had researched new earpieces for him and the crew because he hated the ones they currently used.
Frankie had also helped to serve as a distraction, giving him interrogation duty for a couple of junkies who had somehow “misplaced” the money that rightfully belonged to Boredega. It had been a cathartic task for Drake. Not only was he able to release some of his anger, but he also confirmed what he knew about himself. Even if he wasn’t the bad guy, he definitely wasn’t the good guy.
He kept his head low and his mind full. He did everything he could to keep himself away fr
om Scotty, but he could feel the man’s absence in his bones. They may have only had one night together, but Drake hadn’t realized just how much he had come to appreciate Scotty in his everyday life until Scotty wasn’t there. Not in the same way.
He ached, and not even the scotch was able to dull the pain.
So he sat, and he watched as Scotty worked the bar, fulfilling the busy weekend crowd’s drink orders. He moved with fluidity and grace, but Drake could tell he wasn’t as relaxed as he appeared. He could see the tension in his shoulders, the tightness around his mouth and eyes. He put on a good show, flirting with the patrons and working the crowd, but Drake saw the burst of hope that invaded Scotty’s eyes anytime their gazes would meet.
After downing the remainder of his drink, Drake pushed his glass away and stood. He wasn’t getting anywhere pining for the dream he couldn’t have. If he was going to stay at the club, he might as well go to his office and get some work done.
“Boss Man.” The earpiece came alive with a cackle.
Drake reached to unmute his mic. “Yeah, Frankie?”
“Some more money is missing. I’m gonna take Jacob to go figure it out. You cool?”
Sighing, Drake nodded even though Frankie couldn’t see him. “Yeah, we’re cool. You bringing them back here?”
The mic crackled. “Doubt it. Too much money has gone missing. Tony wants some examples made.”
Drake grimaced. “I hear ya. I’ve got the club covered.”
Frankie signed off, and Drake muted his mic before pulling the piece out of his ear. He scowled at the plastic before stashing it in his pocket.
It was the fourth time in two weeks that they’d been called out due to missing funds. Drake didn’t know what was going on, but whoever Frankie was after was going to be in a world of hurt.
Drake walked to his office. His path took him past the bar, and he tried to keep his head down, eyes averted, but he failed miserably and before he knew it, he was stumbling over his own feet as Scotty’s eyes met his. His stomach clenched at the mix of hope, sadness, and disappointment he saw in them. He tore himself away, clenching his teeth, and trudged past to scurry into his small sanctuary.
However, hiding apparently wasn’t an option with Scotty because it hadn’t been ten minutes while he had sat and looked blankly at his computer screen, before Scotty barged into his office.
“Knocking is usually the appropriate gesture,” Drake said, trying desperately not to look like having Scotty in his presence was in any way twisting his guts into a thousand pieces.
Scotty didn’t say anything. Instead, he turned and closed the door with a soft snick, tapping the handle a couple of times before he seemed to come to a decision. Drake’s breath caught in his chest as Scotty twisted the lock. His breath came out in a ragged pattern as Scotty, head still tilted down toward the lock, flashed wild eyes at him.
Swallowing, Drake stood on shaky legs. He had never once seen anything as sexy as Scotty standing in front of a locked door, the only exit, barring any escape, with his rumpled work uniform and a determined look in his eyes.
Jesus. There was no way he was going to be able to sleep tonight with this image in his head.
“What—” Drake was cut off as Scotty banged his fist against the door.
“Shut up,” Scotty said through clenched teeth. He turned to face Drake square on, his determination clear in his stance. He pointed a finger at Drake. “This time you don’t get to say anything. Okay? Just shut the hell up, because you aren’t the only one with shit going on, and even though you seem to think so, you are not the one who gets to tell me what is or what is not too dangerous for me.” He took two large steps forward, crossing half the distance between them before stopping again. “You said that I didn’t know anything about you. Yeah, well, turnabout is fair play and you don’t know anything about me either!”
The raw emotion radiating from Scotty filled the room. His anger was thick, but even more than that was the underlying… hurt? Was that what Drake was seeing? The anger was palpable, but there was more to it than that; that much was obvious. It was rare that Drake had ever seen Scotty upset or angry, and now he was getting it up close and personal.
But it didn’t make sense to Drake. He didn’t do anything to hurt Scotty. He just needed to keep him safe. Keep him out of the line of fire. The man wasn’t cut out for the darkness involved in Drake’s life. He wasn’t hard and broken, but light and optimistic. He was everything Drake could have been if his family hadn’t been taken from him.
He was the epitome of what Drake wished he could be. But it was too late for Drake now. He was in too deep. It didn’t mean that he had to take Scotty down with him.
Steeling himself, Drake walked around his desk. “I told you we weren’t going to talk about this.”
“And I told you to shut up,” Scotty said, his voice low.
Drake raised an eyebrow. Shit, Scotty was hot like this, angry and exacting control. He had to look away from him, avert his eyes to regather himself. He couldn’t let the arousal get to him. He was stronger than that.
Drake opened his mouth to speak again but stopped when Scotty arched a brow, then spoke over him.
“I don’t know what it is exactly that made you so upset, but I want to get one thing clear, okay?” Scotty’s voice took on a hiss in anger.
Drake licked his suddenly dry lips. A fine tremor had begun in his knees and was slowly working its way up his body.
“You aren’t a bad guy, Drake. You might be in a bad way right now, you might be mixed up in something bigger than you, but what I see is not the workings of a criminal.”
“How would you know that?” Drake’s voice didn’t come out much louder than a whisper.
Scotty took a couple of steps closer so he was now standing toe-to-toe with Drake. He didn’t touch him, just stood a breath’s width apart never looking away from Drake’s eyes.
“Because I know you. I’ve been watching you since the moment I started working here. Hell, I even considered you a friend before anything happened. Outside of the last couple of weeks, you only drink when you have to do something you don’t want to do, and that’s generally only after you do something with Frankie. If you were really as bad as you claim to be, you wouldn’t be drinking away the guilt. You wouldn’t be trying to protect me!”
Drake let his eyes drop. He couldn’t look at him any longer. If he did, he would give in, and that would be bad. He had worked too hard to get this far to let it all go crashing around his feet. Or worse.
“Scotty, please.” Drake tried to turn away, but Scotty’s hand on his shoulder stopped him.
“No, I told you it was my turn.” Scotty’s voice was no longer as thick with anger as it had been. Now, it was softer, endearing. “Look me in the eye and tell me you are a bad guy. Do it.”
Drake shuddered out a breath. He could do this, because it would be the truth. Lifting his chin to look Scotty directly in the eye, he spoke without any inflection. “I’m a bad guy.”
He may not be the worst guy, he might not be the baddest guy, but in the grand scheme of things, he definitely wasn’t a good guy. He had blood on his hands.
Scotty searched his eyes. “You don’t believe that.”
Drake worked hard to keep his voice even and his face blank. “I don’t have to believe it because it’s the truth.”
Reaching up, Scotty placed a hand on Drake’s cheek, and Drake, for the life of him, tried to ignore the scorching heat that blazed through those fingers and straight into his gut. It took all the willpower he had not to nuzzle against the warm flesh. But he had to stand firm.
“I don’t know what you think you know, but I can tell you for certain that if anyone ever hears anything you just said, you won’t live long enough to regret it.”
Scotty let his hand fall back to his side. “You know, you can threaten me all you want, but it’s hard to be frightened of someone who is doing everything in their power to keep me out of danger. You can push me
away all you want, but it’s not going to stop me from caring about you. I think I’m falling for you, Drake, and….” Scotty trailed off, his eyes wide with surprise at his own words. And that was it; that was the turning point.
His gaze still locked on Scotty, Drake felt his tenacity diminish. In fact, those words threw him into a vortex of happy stupefaction. Because as much as he wanted to ignore it, as much as he wanted to just push Scotty away, he couldn’t, because he was falling for him too. Drake was positive that the look of bewilderment on Scotty’s face at the confession was mirrored in his own expression.
Drake’s shoulders slumped as he lost all resolve. Closing his eyes tight, he dragged a hand through his hair. “Goddammit, Scotty.”
The words fell out of his mouth without any force behind them. The only thing that kept him from cursing again, from telling off the powers that be for their horrible timing, was Scotty’s warm lips pressed hungrily to his own.
The kiss was rough, hard, a test of wills with lips, tongue, and teeth. It started with their mouths but soon encompassed their entire bodies. Drake had his arms wrapped around Scotty’s chest, pulling him as tight to him as was possible while allowing them enough use of their lungs. He trailed his hands along Scotty’s back, feeling his taut muscles that flexed with each movement of his own arms exploring and devouring Drake.
“This is not a good idea,” Drake managed to say when Scotty had pulled back enough to work on the buttons of his work shirt.
“Too late,” Scotty said, impatiently struggling with his shirt. Then with a growl of irritation, Scotty pulled and the last few buttons snapped off, flying in different directions.
“Jesus,” Drake gasped. “That was incredibly hot.”
Scotty shook the last bit of fabric off his arms and reached out to pull Drake’s shirt over his head. But instead of removing the shirt from Drake’s body, he pushed it over his head and let his settle behind Drake’s neck, keeping his arms loosely secured behind him.
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