by CJ Bishop
“Fuck.” the man's head dropped back against the seat. “You're that good?”
Abel shrugged and dragged his tongue across the man's cock. “Apparently some think so.”
Leaning forward again, the guy shoved his fingers through Abel's hair and gazed at him through crisp blue eyes that resembled Devlin's far too much. When the man moved in for a kiss on the mouth, Abel drew back abruptly and stood up, a sudden tremor to his legs and hands, heart pounding at the base of his throat. His eyes began to burn without apparent cause.
“Session's over.” he mumbled.
“You're fucking kidding me, right?” the man stared at him, incredulous. He indicated his fiercely hard cock. “You're gonna just leave me like this?”
“That's how the game is played.” Abel said quietly, tightly, and turned away, walking out of the booth, low curses thrust at his back.
* * * *
Some of the boys in the club were beginning to look at Devlin like a regular, though few, if any, ever approached him. It seemed common knowledge at the Phoenix that Devlin was there for Abel—and Abel alone. No doubt spread around by Cole and Gabe. They struck him as the types to be defensive of what they perceived belonged to Abel. Devlin didn't mind. He didn't relish the idea of being groped and fondled each time he set foot in the place. And he liked the thought of belonging to Abel.
But his master was far too evasive, having slipped away from the hospital earlier before Devlin could grab another opportunity to question him about the source of his sudden financial windfall. Where the hell would a nineteen-year-old kid get his hands on twenty-thousand dollars—nearly overnight? The elusive answer to that question ground his guts into knots. Did he even want to know?
He supposed that question was answered by the fact that he was standing in the club yet again, searching for his runaway angel.
“Beginning to think you fancy our club, doc.” Cole approached him, non-threatening but with enough warning in his pale eyes to let Devlin know he wasn't about to play games when it came to Abel.
“Cole,” Devlin swallowed thick. “Look...I know Abel told me not to come back, but...something isn't right with him. I can see it...and I can't ignore it.” he licked his lips anxiously, glancing past Cole in search of the boy. “I'm worried about him.” he shifted his gaze back to Cole's face. “Where did he go this last weekend?”
Cole shook his head, and Devlin detected a note of concern in the man's eyes. He knows something is wrong as well. “I don't know. He didn't say.”
“So he didn't explain where he got the twenty-thousand dollars to put towards his sister's care?”
Cole's eyes widened. “What?” he nearly choked on the word. “Twenty thousand dollars? What the hell are you talking about? Abel don't have that kind of money.”
Cocking his head, Devlin murmured, “He does now.” On the far side of the club, Abel emerged from back by the booths—wearing only skimpy shorts much like the ones he'd worn on stage, though these were a glossy silver rather than blue. Instant jealousy stabbed Devlin's heart at the thought of him using that beautiful body to arouse another man. It was ridiculous to feel that way—the boy was a stripper—but he couldn't help it; he only wanted Abel stripping for him.
Cole twisted around and followed his stare. “Abel!” he called, then flicked his fingers, motioning the boy to come over.
Uncertainty tightened the boy's face when he spied Devlin. He shook his head and walked the other way. Without waiting for Cole to act, Devlin brushed past him and broke into a fast walk, catching up to Abel as he entered the back of the club. “Abel.” he grabbed his arm, pulling the boy around.
Abel jerked his arm free. “What the hell do you want from me?” he asked tightly, but an instant sheen glazed his eyes. “God, man, can't you take a hint? I don't fucking want you around, okay?”
“You're full of shit, Abel.” Devlin said. “If you didn't want anything to do with me...you wouldn't have kissed me back, there in the elevator this morning.” He swallowed hard, throat squeezing. “You think I can't see, or feel, how much you want to be with me?”
“You just want to see it.” Abel turned away. “But it's an illusion—”
Devlin had him pinned to the wall before even he himself knew what he was doing, crushing Abel's mouth with a passionate kiss. Abel whimpered and flattened his hands to the wall as Devlin pressed closer, grabbed his hands and placed them on his body. “Touch me, baby.” he moaned through their kiss. He pressed Abel's hand to his heart. “Feel that?” he kissed him again. “That's my heart...beating for you.” he nuzzled the boy's neck, emotion cracking his voice. “Only for you.”
“Stop it.” Abel choked, his fingers curling, balling Devlin's shirt in his fists.
“Where were you this weekend?” Devlin shoved his face against the young man's neck, eyes stinging. “Where did you get the money, Abel? What's going on with you? Just talk to me, dammit.”
* * * *
Frustration and anger boiled inside Abel. This wasn't fair. It wasn't fucking fair! He'd waited all his life for this, for this one love, this...one man. And now—he had to fucking throw him away.
“Devlin, stop.” he choked again, hands against the man's warm, firm chest, trying to push him back when he just wanted to cling to him, get lost in his arms.
Devlin cupped his face. “No, Abel. I meant what I said this morning.” he kissed him softly. “I love you, baby. I love you so much it's killing me to be away from you. I know I must seem like a desperate fool, but I don't care—I am.”
Grabbing at his hands, Abel shook his head, warm tears squeezing out. “I'm not who you think I am.” he cried low.
“Then who are you?”
Abel trembled, the man's deep blue eyes blurring before him. Say whatever you have to say to make him leave. Tell him part of the truth...and maybe he won't insist on the rest. His jaw tightened and he pushed Devlin back hard. “I'm a whore, all right!” he choked out through clenched teeth, eyes burning. “You wanna know where I was this weekend? Where I got the money? I fucked a man for it!
“He pays me five thousand dollars every weekend to let him fuck me! Are you happy now? Is that what you wanted to hear?” Abel swiped fiercely at his eyes, choking on his cries. “I'm a fucking whore! Nothing else! So just leave me the fuck alone!”
Tears rose up in Devlin's eyes as he tried to compute what Abel was telling him. But it was sinking in. I'm sorry! Abel screamed silently. I'm so sorry, baby! But I don't know what else to do! I can't tell you everything! I can't be with you!
The tears breaking and sliding down the man's face, Devlin shook his head. “Why, Abel?” he cried softly. “I offered you the money, why...would you rather get it like this? Why?”
Abel retreated, sagging back against the wall, twisting away from the man. “Don't ask questions you don't want the answer to.” he whispered, turning his face to the wall. “Just leave. There's...nothing here for you.”
He didn't hear the man leave, but felt the emptiness when he was gone. Like a black hole, sucking him in. He buried his face in his arms and cried.
“Is it true?” Cole's tear thick voice pierced his clouded mind. “What you just told Devlin,” Abel was pulled around and both arms gripped hard. “Is it true, Abel!”
Abel tucked his chin to his chest, tears streaming. He nodded, breaking down. Then he was deep in Cole's embrace, the man squeezing him tight, lips pressed to his hair. “Fuck.” he choked. “Abel...what the hell were you thinking, baby?”
Abel closed his eyes and held onto the man.
“We'll fix this, baby.” Cole murmured, kissing his head. “We'll find another way to get the money.”
Shaking his head slowly, the emptiness, hopelessness, seeped through Abel's mind, draining down into his heart. “You can't fix it.” he whispered thickly, dull. “The deal is sealed.”
Maybe I'll keep you forever. Abel could tell himself he was in control, that he could walk away anytime he wanted. But it wasn't true. Kaplan owned hi
m. And now that he'd fucked him—he wasn't going to let him go.
Chapter Fifteen
No More Secrets
The black hole that had formed when Devlin walked out, grew in substantial circumference and depth with each day that passed. Devlin didn't come back to the club. He was nowhere to be seen at the hospital—not that Abel was looking for him, or so he repeatedly told himself. It was as if the man had dropped off the face of the earth...out of existence.
Abel wished he could do the same.
What he had thought would bring a measure of relief in telling Devlin the truth about Kaplan—in that it would keep the man away from him—served only to generate more stress and heartache. The pain never stopped, and awake or asleep—he couldn't put down that look in Devlin's eyes when he'd told him he let another man fuck him for money.
His insistence to himself that this was best for everyone, that Devlin finally got it that Abel didn't want to be with him—was weak, at best, in comforting his broken heart. Everything hurt. Fuck, it hurt just to exist. And he longed not to exist. Had it not been for Savannah...he was sure he would be sitting in a tub full of crimson water, his lifeblood seeping out of his wrists. The thought didn't bother him, that he could be so willing to kill himself, even fantasize about it. The only thought that disturbed him was the one of Savannah being alone in this fucked up world. She had—quite literally—become his sole purpose for living.
Should he ever come such drastic ends—Cole and Gabe would suffer, but they had each other. They weren't alone. And Devlin...the man had already written him off. Would he even notice if Abel suddenly ceased to exist?
Abel lay on top of his bed and watched morning push out the night shadows. Friday morning. Maybe he should again go to Kaplan early. Just get the fuck out of here. This time—when Kaplan fucked him—there would be no tears, no fear or panic, no silent pleas to come home. In fact, he would dread the return to the city...to this life, or what passed for life here. He had thought that in Devlin letting him go...he could move on, be content somehow.
But it had had the opposite effect on him. Now...he just wanted to quit, lay down and die. He hadn't known just how devastating it could be to lose a man life Devlin Grant. To be loved so powerfully by someone like him—and then suddenly...not. It had ripped out his heart, and that wasn't something he'd been prepared for.
The sun was just beginning to stab its fingers through the city, between the buildings, when Abel finally drifted off. He was sure he had only been out for seconds when the knock on his door jolted him back to unwelcome consciousness.
Cole. All week him and Gabe had been doing their damnedest to deter Abel from Kaplan, Cole even going as far as insisting he would physically restrain Abel from setting foot anywhere near the man. But in the end, Cole knew he couldn't stop him.
Abel crawled off the bed, still fully dressed from the day before. He rarely actually went to bed anymore. Having turned down the heat last night, the apartment had a slight chill. His toes tried to curl away from the cold floor as he walked to the door, the insistent knocks informing him that Cole would not be deterred by him taking his time opening up.
Was this a last ditch effort to prevent another jaunt overseas as the Kaplan's escort? It wouldn't do any good. Abel was going. He wanted to go. It hurt too much to be here. By the time he got back, Savannah would be ready to come home, and any doctors she saw after that, wouldn't be at that hospital.
Abel unlocked the deadbolt and twisted the knob, dragging open the door. He could stop worrying about running into Devlin. He would never have to see the man again-
“Abel.” Devlin's deep ocean eyes grabbed his stare, holding on, refusing to let go.
* * * *
The boy looked as if he were staring at a ghost. Devlin couldn't blame him; he'd disappeared for a week, and surely the young man believed he was as good as dead and gone from his life. But despite the massive hole Abel had punched through his heart—Devlin wasn't ready yet to give up the fight. Too many vivid memories remained for him to just throw it all away. He would never get over Abel, never stop loving him no matter what the boy threw at him. And there was no way he could go on, day after day, with that depth of love in his heart—without the young man in his life to supplement it.
“What...” Abel swallowed with effort, his throat working to push out the words. “What are you...doing here?” Devlin entered without an invitation and walked past Abel. “You can't...be here.” Abel's voice strained with emotion.
“I already am.” Devlin faced him. “And we're going to talk, Abel. And I mean talk for real. No more of this evasive shit. You've been running from me since that day in the coffee shop and I want to fucking know why.”
Abel stared at him, eyes widened with fear, arms snaking around his waist. “I...can't...”
“Bullshit.” Devlin stepped towards him and the boy backed away. “You can. And you will. I am not leaving here until I get some fucking answers.”
Shaking his head, Abel turned his back to Devlin. “You don't want...the answers.”
“Stop telling me what I fucking want, Abel.” his chest heaved and he closed the space between them, turning Abel around. “If I say I want answers, then I fucking mean it.” Tears were already coursing down Abel's cheek. Devlin rubbed them away with his thumbs, softening his tone a bit. “How can it be that bad, baby? That you would refuse my help and...” he shook his head, still holding Abel's face. He pulled him close and kissed his forehead. “Why is it so hard to trust me when I say I would never turn on you? Do you think I would be this persistent if I didn't want to work it out, fix it?” He lifted Abel's chin and stroked his damp face. “Do I strike you as a man who is even remotely ready to give up on all this?”
Come on, baby, just give me a chance to understand. Where would he go from here if Abel absolutely refused to tell him?
A deep, cutting ache crept through Abel's eyes and he rubbed his hands over Devlin's. “Why did we have to meet?”
“Baby, what are you talking about?” Devlin moaned softly and kissed his lips. “Meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me.”
Abel pressed closer and touched his forehead to the base of Devlin's throat and shook his head slowly. “I'm going to ruin your life.” he cried softly. “What you feel for me now...it's all going to...go away.” He trembled and slipped his arms around Devlin's body, hugging him so tight, almost desperately. His body shook with sobs. “You won't love me anymore.”
“Abel.” Devlin rubbed his back and kissed his hair. “Baby, you can't really believe that. I'll always love you.”
Abel pulled back and wiped his face. “No...you won't.”
His tongue was loaded with another protest about to lunge forth—when Cole stepped through the door, with Gabe right behind him.
* * * *
A quick survey of the scene left Cole in a bit of confusion; what the hell was Devlin doing here? The man had done a disappearing act right after Abel had told him about his extra-curricular activities. Cole had half expected to never see the man again. And now, to see Abel practically in Devlin's arms, clearly upset—he wasn't sure what to think.
“So...” he said slowly, cautiously as Gabe closed the door behind them. “What's...going on here?”
Devlin met his stare head on. “Abel was about to give me some answers.”
The kid's head jerked up in start, looking at Devlin; apparently that was news to Abel.
“Is that true, Abel?” Cole asked quietly. Though he wasn't looking at him or touching him, Cole sensed Gabe grow tense. His greatest fear for the boy was Abel going to prison. Cole feared the same.
“I don't...” Abel's gaze evaded everyone.
“I told you,” Devlin looked at Abel, his voice tightening. “I'm not leaving until you explain why you would rather...sell yourself...than accept my help. Because it isn't fucking computing with me.”
This was it. Cole could feel it. The moment of truth. Devlin had reached the end of his rope and
he wouldn't be deterred this time. And frankly, Cole couldn't blame him. In his place, Cole would be right there demanding answers as well.
“Abel.” Cole murmured. “Maybe it's time.”
“Cole.” Gabe stepped close. Anxiety and fear tightened his face.
Cole touched his arm then looked at Devlin with stern eyes as he spoke to Gabe. “It's okay. We won't let anything happen to Abel.” he told him quietly. His gaze shifted to the boy. “Maybe it's better to just...get it over with, Abel.”
The kid stared at him, fear pulsating in his amber eyes.
* * * *
Get it over with? Tell him...
“Cole.” Fear welled up in Abel. He moved towards Cole, voice lowering, “I...can't.” Each syllable stretched taut with emotion. “You know...I can't.”
Tension thickened the air inside the small apartment. A low ringing settled in Abel's ears as, for a moment, no one spoke. Then Cole was gripping his shoulder, head ducked towards him, “You can't keep running from him.” Cole murmured. “And he isn't going to stop asking...until you tell him the truth.” He squeezed Abel's shoulder. “And maybe...he has a right to know.”