Jagger.
No matter what he did. No matter what he achieved. No matter what he tried. It all came crashing back down to Jagger.
The fucking bastard had been dead for almost three years, and he was still interfering with Ian’s life in some way.
It wasn’t fair.
He hated to think of it that way. He knew that life wasn’t fair. That it wasn’t supposed to be fair, but there had to be a line where things sort of evened out or there was some kind of balance that kept people from running through the street screaming.
Since Lucas, Snow, and Rowe had saved him, Ian had worked hard to live his best life. The guys had given him countless opportunities to pursue his dreams. He’d studied the culinary arts, opened an amazing restaurant in downtown Cincinnati, moved out on his own, taken down a crime boss’s operations, dated, found the love of his life, and gotten married.
Now he was on the cusp of starting a second restaurant and becoming a foster parent with the hope of one day starting his own family with Hollis.
But it all felt like it was on the brink of falling apart because of something to do with his stupid past and Jagger’s organization.
Hollis walked into the living room with his phone in his hand, scrolling through something as he flopped down on the sofa. “Don’t forget that we’ve got another foster parent class tomorrow night,” Hollis murmured. “It’ll be good to have those done.”
“Why bother?” Ian grumbled.
“What? What are you talking about?” Ian looked up to find that Hollis had lowered his phone and was now sitting on the edge of the cushion. His expression was both hurt and confused. “Do you not want to be a foster parent anymore?”
Hollis’s question was like a knife to the heart. Yes, he wanted to be a foster parent. There was little in the world he wanted more. There were so many kids in desperate need of a safe place. After losing the love of his parents and being sold to a pedophile, Ian knew the value of being loved and cared for by someone. Knew what it was to go to sleep with a sense of safety and the feeling of being protected.
“Why should we bother? We can’t keep any kid that we bring home safe,” Ian replied, frustration and pain battling it out in his voice.
“Ian…”
“Don’t! You have to be realistic about this. Kids in the foster care system are going through some rough stuff. They’ve already been through enough in a place they call home. It’s supposed to be safe there, but obviously it isn’t if they’re in the foster system. How can we offer them safety?”
“Our home is safe.”
“Really? Does it feel safe to you? Does our life feel safe to you? We’ve got security cameras outside our home and a state-of-the-art system inside our home. I’ve been attacked on more than one occasion in my life. God knows how many times you’ve been attacked.”
“Most of the attacks on me happened while I was a cop. I’m not a cop anymore,” Hollis quickly threw out.
“And Rowe keeps threatening to have a bodyguard follow me around. How exactly is that going to look to a social worker? You, me, the kid or even kids, and a freaking bodyguard!”
Hollis took a deep breath and stood. “Ian, you’re upset. It’s been a long few days. We didn’t get the kind of good news we were hoping for when we met at Ward’s. But it doesn’t mean we need to toss all our plans in the trash. If you think logically about this, you’ll realize you’re overreacting. Our home is safe. We’re safe. We’re safe as any other family out there. No family can promise that nothing bad will ever happen. Everyone takes precautions against the worst. That’s why we lock our doors at night and wear seat belts when we ride in the car.”
“Yeah, and what kind of precautions does the average family take against Jagger’s former crew? What kind of precautions are they taking against former drug dealers, murderers, extortionists, and pedophiles? Did I miss that on the home prep list between locking away the household cleaners and putting covers on the wall sockets?”
Ian could see the muscle ticking in Hollis’s jaw—a clear sign that Hollis was on the edge of finally losing his temper—but Ian didn’t care. He was hurting and angry. He needed Hollis to be angry and hurting with him. Needed Hollis to understand that everything they were working so hard for was falling apart.
“That’s not our life anymore,” Hollis snapped.
“It is! You just didn’t see fit to tell me about it. How could you? How could you not tell me you saw one of Jagger’s men?”
“Because we don’t talk about Jagger!” Hollis exploded. The pain and rage had Ian stumbling back a step in shock. Hollis shoved both his hands through his hair and paced away from Ian, but he couldn’t go far before he was forced to turn back. His face was flushed and his eyes glistened.
“Can you even tell me how many times we’ve talked about Jagger since his death?”
“No. Why should we?” Ian replied, but his voice had lost some of its confidence and bravado. Even he couldn’t pretend complete ignorance.
“Because it’s a festering fucking wound between us.”
Ian wrapped his arms around his middle and took another step away. Old pains and anxieties came creeping in. Flashes of ancient, ugly memories he’d never fully be free of. “I don’t want to talk about Jagger. It was a nightmare. You weren’t there. I just want to move on.”
“You keep forgetting that I was there. Yeah, I only spent a year in Jagger’s organization, but it was enough to see what went on in his house. It was enough that I could very clearly see the kind of hell you were living day in and day out. I saw those fucking pictures that Dwight Gratton had of you. Those memories flash through my head at odd times, and I want to kill them all over again. I hurt for you, but I can’t talk with you about it—the one person who would understand—because it’s going to hurt you.”
Ian pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, rubbing them hard against the burning tears that were trying to break free. He hurt for Hollis and the memories he was forced to carry. He hurt for himself and the past he couldn’t completely shed. “I-I just want to move on. Create a better life.”
“So do I. I don’t want to hurt you, so I pretend everything is okay. The same way you pretend that you’re fine. Or pretend that the nightmares that get you out of bed to cook at four a.m. have nothing to do with Jagger.”
Ian balled his hands into fists and turned to glare at Hollis. “Is rehashing the past really going to make things better?”
“Maybe. If it means that you stop pretending and running, then yeah, we need to talk.”
“What the hell are you talking about? Who’s running?”
“You are! You were planning the new restaurant at the same time as our wedding. We were barely back from our honeymoon before you started researching what it takes to be a foster parent. You didn’t pause to think what our schedules were already like. You just jumped right in. You are running from one thing to the next so that you never have to sit still, never have to think about the things that are bothering you from your past.”
“I’m done putting my life on hold for Boris Jagger and Dwight Gratton and all those fucks from my past!” Ian shouted, pointing behind him where all the rest of his bad memories waited. “I’m going to be thirty this year. I want to finally live my life.”
“What? All at once? You got eggs that are suddenly going to go bad if you slow down just a little?” Hollis taunted.
“Fuck you!” Ian shouted, hating the tears he could hear in his voice. “I’m done waiting. I waited for Jagger to lose interest in me. I waited for the guys to finally start letting me live my own life. I fucking waited for you!”
“And fuck you for making me feel like I can’t talk to you about shit! For making me walk on eggshells so I won’t interfere with your plans for the perfect life.”
Ian stormed out of the living room with a dismissive wave of his hand at Hollis. Stomping to the bedroom, he slammed the door shut behind him. He couldn’t talk to him anymore. Couldn’t even look at h
im. Hollis wasn’t listening to him. Talking about Jagger wasn’t going to fix anything. It wasn’t going to erase his past or suddenly make everything better.
He dropped down on the floor and leaned against the side of the bed. His head throbbed and his throat felt raw from fighting back the tears. It was their first serious argument. They’d had some small blowups over the past few years, usually about Ian taking risks and Hollis being overprotective.
But this one was different. It was the first time he’d ever said, “Fuck you!” to Hollis like that. How could Hollis keep something as big as seeing a former Jagger goon from him? Telling him wouldn’t have been the same as demanding to know what his life had been like in Jagger’s house. Or how often he’d been forced to fuck the man. Those things he didn’t want to talk about, didn’t want to relive in his head.
Ian scrubbed his hands through his hair. Even if he didn’t talk about them, Hollis knew of them on some level because of his time undercover. His husband was forced to deal with that knowledge with no outlet. And the idea that Hollis felt like he couldn’t talk to Ian gutted him so deeply. He was always there for Hollis. No matter what. How could he think that he couldn’t talk to Ian?
Except that talking about it forced Ian to think about it, relive it, and that would cause Ian new pain. Something Hollis never wanted to do.
What the hell were they supposed to do?
Go to counseling?
Jesus, they both obviously needed it. Solo and together.
Ian had gone to a therapist for a few years after coming to live with Lucas and the others. She’d helped him deal with a lot of shit and move on so that he’d feel safe in life to pursue his dreams. But he’d stopped before the final confrontation with Jagger and never returned. Old wounds had been reopened and never truly closed again. God only knew the wounds that Hollis was nursing since they didn’t talk about this stuff.
Hell. They’d been married for only a few months and they needed to go to counseling already. Ian was sure he couldn’t feel like a bigger failure.
But then, most couples weren’t dealing with a past like Ian’s. Most couples weren’t dealing with old memories from an evil crime boss. Most couples weren’t dealing with a lunatic trying to destroy Ian’s restaurant and possibly his life.
Didn’t matter. Ian didn’t give a shit about other couples or what his family might think. The only thing that mattered to him was Hollis. He wanted Hollis to be happy. He didn’t want Hollis hiding his pain anymore. Didn’t want to hide from his own.
He needed to fix this.
Chapter Twelve
Ian gave up trying to sleep several hours later. Hollis never came to bed, and Ian assumed he’d gone to the guest bedroom to sleep. Either that or he’d sacked out on the couch. They hadn’t slept apart since they’d first moved in together, and he felt the loss like he was missing a limb.
Heart aching, Ian got out of bed and walked down the stairs. Hollis wasn’t on the couch, and Ian knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep until he did something to fix the rift between them. Hollis meant more to him than anything else in the world.
He could start with chocolate.
Hollis loved anything and everything chocolate. His favorite dessert was something as simple as brownies.
Ian padded into the kitchen and started getting the ingredients for his double fudge. He set out the eggs so they’d be closer to room temperature while he got down the cocoa, baking soda, sugar, vanilla, and more. He melted butter and started the water to boil. He’d just whip up a batch of these and present them for breakfast. Chocolate for breakfast was bound to get him back into Hollis’s good graces. Or at least talking again.
He couldn’t believe what he’d said to him. That he’d actually said “fuck you” to his husband. Ian never blew up like that. The only time he ever yelled was when he was arguing with Lucas or Snow, and even that was rare.
Shame pinched his chest as he preheated the oven and began to assemble the ingredients. He didn’t use his loud mixer, whipping the batter by hand. By the time he got the pan into the oven, his hands were shaking and he thought of waking Hollis to apologize. But the man needed his sleep, so he stayed in the kitchen.
Soon, the rich scent of fudge filled the condo. Ian leaned against the counter and shut his eyes. He rubbed them hard, feeling so out of sorts. He didn’t know what to do with himself. Sleep called to him, but he needed Hollis more, and their argument sat like a rock in his stomach. Cooking was his only solace, so he decided maybe two chocolate things were better than one. He could make some cookies, too.
He opened his eyes and jumped when he saw Hollis standing in front of him. He wore nothing but a pair of boxers, his big body so damn welcome, Ian’s shoulders slumped as he took a step toward him. Hollis held open his arms and Ian fell into them, wrapping his own tight around Hollis’s back.
“I’m sorry,” they said in unison.
Ian laughed and buried his nose in Hollis’s neck. “Did I wake you?”
“No, I couldn’t sleep. The wonderful scent coming from the oven brought me downstairs. I guessed you were doing what you always do when upset. Cooking. I’m sorry you’re so sad, but whatever that is smells delicious.”
“You don’t recognize your favorite brownies? I thought chocolate might help me apologize better.”
“You don’t have to apologize in any special way. You’re going through hell right now and we have nothing to go on, so it’s frustrating and upsetting. You’re so strong to be holding it together as much as you are.” Hollis pressed his lips to Ian’s forehead. “I’m sorry I lost my temper earlier.”
“We both did. I think this has just been building inside me, and I felt ready to explode. Shouldn’t have done it all over you.”
“I’m here for the bad as well as the good. I’m here for everything. I love you so much, Ian.”
“I know.” He pulled away so he could see Hollis but kept their lower bodies together. “We both need to do a better job of talking.”
Hollis frowned, sadness creeping into his beautiful blue eyes. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
Reaching up, Ian gently laid his hand against Hollis’s cheek, rough with whiskers. “I know, but I don’t want you hurting either. Don’t want you to feel like you’re alone and have no one to talk to. That kills me. You’re the most important thing to me in the whole world.”
Hollis closed his eyes and leaned his cheek into Ian’s touch. Ian could feel some of the lingering tightness leaving his hard muscles as he relaxed further against Ian. “Thank you,” Hollis whispered. Those two words were choked with emotion, and Ian could feel a knot forming in his throat. He never wanted Hollis to be in pain for any reason.
“And when we’re done talking, I can always make brownies,” Ian said. When Hollis opened his eyes again, Ian nodded his head toward the oven with a small smile.
“I don’t give a damn about the brownies. You’re all I need. I only followed the smell because it let me know you were awake down here.”
“I was about to make cookies, too.”
Hollis framed his face with his hands and kissed his nose. “The brownies are more than enough. Like I said, I don’t need them. I just need you. I always need you.”
“I don’t like it when you sleep in the guest room. We need to make a pact that we never go to bed angry from here on out.”
“Done. Couldn’t sleep in there anyway. I need you with me.”
Ian leaned against him again, wallowing in the knowledge that neither of them was able to sleep while angry. He looked out the kitchen window at the darkness outside and felt like they were cocooned in their own perfect bubble. He sighed and kissed Hollis’s shoulder. “We really do need to talk about our feelings when it comes to my past with Jagger. I’m sorry you felt you couldn’t tell me about seeing one of his enforcers.”
“I was shocked to see him, to be honest. I thought of saying something, but like I said, it’s just not something we ever talk about. I had no proof that he
had anything to do with what’s happened with Rialto, and I didn’t want to upset you more.”
“I’m thinking of trying therapy again,” Ian said quietly. “If this has shown me anything, it’s that I haven’t gotten past it all myself.”
“If you think that’ll help, then I’m all for it.”
Ian looked up at him and smirked. “But it’s not for you, huh?”
Hollis grimaced. “I’m not sure therapy and me would be a good mix. I can try if you truly want me to, but just knowing we’re pulling all this out into the open is good for me. I don’t want to fight with you about any of that. Honesty from here on out is needed.”
“Agreed.” He grinned up at his husband. “Neither of us lasted long in our first real fight.”
“It sucked. I was just lying in there and feeling like an idiot. Missing you.” He kissed Ian and pulled him in tight to his body. Since Ian was only in pajama pants, their chests slid together and Ian loved feeling all that warm skin and hair. Hollis deepened the kiss, his tongue winding with Ian’s.
The oven timer dinged, and Ian reluctantly pulled out of his husband’s arms. “Hold that thought.” He quickly checked the brownies to see if they were done, pulled them out, and turned off the oven. He held his hand up to Hollis. “Time for makeup sex?”
“Hell yeah,” Hollis breathed as he pulled Ian back into his body. The kissing took on a new level of passion then, and Ian knew they were both feeling the guilty remnants of their earlier argument. He wanted all that negativity out of his head, so he wrapped his arms around his husband’s neck and threw everything into their kiss. Tongues slid together and Hollis’s hands stroked up and down his spine before he gripped Ian’s hips and ground against him. Ian could feel how rigid Hollis already was and pressed hard against him.
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