Hard Justice: The Asylum Fight Club Book 3

by Bianca Sommerland

  His absolute favorite part, though, had been the carols. When Tracey pulled out the piano bench and patted it, handing him the music for the classics, he’d felt like he truly belonged—had something to offer that everyone could enjoy. She had a sweet voice that contrasted well with Lawson’s deeper tones and Curtis’s tenor. Reed made up in enthusiasm what he’d lacked in precision and timing.

  The toaster dinged, PopTarts springing up, nicely golden at the edges, and he snatched them onto a plate, shaking the heat from his fingers. Crossing the room, he held the plate up to Reed. “Here you go. I have to text Doc and ask him what I’m allowed to eat.”

  Thanking him, Reed took the plate and balanced it on one knee. “More intense than I’ve ever had to deal with, but you’re doing really good with it. I’m damn impressed, man.”

  “Thanks.” He tugged out his phone, speaking the note into the microphone, waiting for Doc’s reply and played it back. If you’ve had breakfast, then you may have a piece of fruit or a glass of milk. He wrinkled his nose. “I suppose it’d be weird as all flip if he told me to have a PopTart.”

  Giving him a sympathetic look, Reed sighed. “True. I might argue there’s fruit in a PopTart, but...like not with Doc. I’d remember not to forget that’s totally not the same thing.”

  Jamie chuckled darkly, going to the galley to grab an apple. He returned, polishing it on his jeans, then paused as he brought it toward his mouth.

  “Shi— Flipping glitter. But, yeah. Took me one day to stop making those kinds of mistakes. My ass clenches just thinking about it.” Rinsing the apple off at the bar sink, he took a bite, enjoying the way the juice from the apple burst over his tongue. “I’ll be glad when Noah’s back. I’ll be a better sub, but he’s a helluva lot more lenient. I miss dropping f-bombs.”

  One brow arched, Reed shook his head. “Me and Matt had to practice not swearing at all because Noah was coming back. If he’s really all him again? Don’t count on it.”

  Moving aside one of the plastic lids to the storage boxes, he plunked down on a chair. Early morning sunlight streamed through the bar windows, gilding Reed’s hair and making the stray glitter sparkle along his lightly tanned skin. “I don’t get it. I mean, if he’s all put back together, why would he be more of a hardass? Wouldn’t it just mellow him out and make him sweeter than he was before?”

  On his second PopTart, Reed seemed to consider the questions for awhile, swinging his leg, which made the ladder sway a little. “It’s like...he has some things that were big when he was training, you know? So they were important to him. Like subs speaking respectfully around Doms. Him being all over-the-top with some people, but completely lax with you? Everything was off balance. Like, I don’t care if some Doms aren’t into all the protocol, but with Noah...things weren’t feeling right.”

  The news that he’d been dealing with a different version of Noah than everyone else knew wasn’t exactly a bombshell. No secret the man had made special allowances for him that he didn’t make for others, but he’d thought maybe it had been because he was special. That there was a level of affection that had made those privileges possible. And, if that wasn’t the case, then had Noah just not cared enough? Had he read the situation all wrong?

  “Oh…” Studying his apple, Jamie frowned. “So, Noah’s into all the protocol stuff Doc is doing with me? Was I...” He couldn’t think of the right word for it, but went with, “just a way to eff with people?”

  Reed’s lips thinned. “No. And...not exactly. I don’t think. More like you became everything and he didn’t give a fuck about anyone else. He used to be part of The Asylum. An important part. Then it was like…” He picked at the rest of his last PopTart and shrugged. “He wasn’t.”

  He supposed it was a good thing that he’d meant so much to Noah, but not to the exclusion of the men who’d been his family for way longer. And… Brow pinching, Jamie frowned up at Reed, unable to envision Noah not being an important part of, well, everything.

  “He’s not?”

  “He is. He just wasn’t acting like it. More like he was detached from everything. From everyone.” Reed jumped off the ladder abruptly. “Sorry, can we talk about something else? Maybe the place settings? Or how much glitter we can put on the floor without getting in trouble? I’ve got tons.”

  Jamie stood, going to the bar to toss out his apple core, then rinsed his hands, needing a moment to put away thoughts of Noah. The last couple weeks had been hard, but they’d gotten, while not easy, easier as he’d kept busy, getting to know the other men who called the building home. So busy some days that he barely noticed he slept on the floor when he went to sleep at night. He’d managed to keep going, one foot in front of the other, without shedding any tears beyond the first day.

  Beyond his first moments with Doc.

  “Sure. What’s next?” He looked across the bar at Reed. “Want to try putting the glitter on top of the ceiling fan paddles so when Curtis turns them on at six the stuff blows all over him?”

  “Yes!” Reed rushed back to the ladder, bringing it under the fan. “I’ve got three tubes of glow-in-the-dark glitter at the bottom of that box over there. Tracey gave it to me, so no one can get mad.”

  Somehow, he didn’t think it worked that way, but so long as he wasn’t the one getting his ass beat, he was down with pretty much anything. Snagging the glitter, he handed the tubes up to Reed. “You might want to put some on top of the disco ball too. When it starts spinning it’ll have the same effect maybe?”

  “You are a genius.” Reed stood on top of the ladder, spreading glitter on top of the fan blades. “Tonight is going to be epic. I’m so glad you’re helping me out with this. Matt would’ve, but he’ll be exhausted by the time he’s done with all those kids. I’m glad he agreed to take the night off and let you fill in. Dude needs a break.”

  Jamie grinned. “Me too. Even if I’m chickenshit about the mixology, it’ll be cool to do something. I’ve always had bartenders at my parties. You should come to one sometime. I have a sick deck overlooking the ocean, and at night it’s like the waves are right there. We could use the firepit and set off some fireworks or something. You’re a Spring birthday, right?”

  “Nope. Late Summer. But that would be amazing. I’ve never gone anywhere.” Reed sat on the top of the ladder again, wiping a bit of sweat off his face and getting glitter all over. “Well, except some truck stops. But that was a long time ago and doesn’t really count.”

  Having been everywhere, staying put had its appeal, but so did sharing a bit of his old world with his new. Going with the flow of the conversation, he decided to keep the focus on Reed. “So, what did you think of Curtis when you first met him? Did you crush on him even when you were a teen?”

  Spots of red colored Reed’s cheeks. “Naw, I didn’t see him often. I started crushing on him bad after the first time he spanked me. Before that he was, like just a cool friend of Noah’s who was around sometimes. I kinda thought they were dating for a bit, so that would’ve been weird, you know? Then I found out they were like...friendly exes I guess?”

  “Well—” Chuckling, Jamie looked around at the room, trying to decide between unpacking the party hats and noisemakers to hand out, and starting on stocking the bar. “—I guess we have that in common. I’m still surprised I didn’t piss myself freaking out… Hey, do you think we should change out the bottles or stock the fridge first?”

  The door to the gym opened and a man came in. Damn tall, massive muscles, and leather jacket open to reveal a black shirt that glistened with moisture. There was blood smeared on his neck. His dark gray eyes locked on Jamie and Reed. “Get Jared. Now.”

  He didn’t have to be given the order twice. Not in that tone.

  Leaving the bar at a run, Jamie tore through the door at the bottom of the stairs, not stopping until he skidded into Doc’s kitchen, panting.

  Hand curved, Doc silently ordered him to bend over.

  Jamie shook his head, pointing to the door. “Someon
e. They need you. Now. Like right now. He...his eyes look like...Noah’s. There’s blood.”

  Confusion momentarily clouded ice blue eyes until the last revelation. Snapping into motion, Doc left the loft, snatching up his bag on the way by. “Go home, Jamie. We’re done.”

  Done…

  Which meant one thing. The man in the bar was Rhodey.

  Noah is home.

  Slamming out of Doc’s loft, he bolted to Noah’s, going to the window at the back, looking out over the lot closest to the gym. A black SUV, remarkable only for its unremarkableness, was spotted with road salt, its engine still sending waves of heat into the winter air. Curtis and Lawson, with Doc and Rhodey, appeared, going to the far side of the car. Doc leaned in, gestured to Lawson, then motioned to the other side. Pale even from a distance, Lawson got into the back seats on the passenger side while Curtis shoved the driver’s seat forward. It took forever to get Noah out of the back seat. Maneuvering him gingerly, a gray wool blanket wrapped around his bulk, Curtis and Rhodey took the brunt of Noah’s weight between them while Doc barked orders.

  Jamie stood on his toes, forehead pressed to the glass, trying to get a glimpse of Noah’s face. His hair appeared darker, plastered down like after an intense workout or hours of fucking. Except there was nothing sexy about this moment as the closest men in Noah’s life bore his limp body, staggering under his weight out of sight. A minute later, steps sounded on the stairs and Jamie ran to the door, yanking it open.

  Lawson came through first, rushing to the master bath. Sounds of water running and the linen closet door cracking open invaded the silence in the too-empty loft. Wren wasn’t up yet, the kitchen was dark. Clinging to the door for support, Jamie blinked fast, clearing his vision as Doc directed Curtis and Rhodey through the door. The scent of copper, sweat, and a lingering sick accompanied the man they bore.

  “Watch his head.” Doc spoke quietly, but his words were whip-crack sharp.

  “His head is the least of our worries if you can’t fix this. Just get him to the fucking bathroom.” Curtis snapped at Doc, teeth gritted, muscles straining. His white shirt showed smears of dark red where Noah’s back had slid along his front.

  “You need to keep your cool around him.” Rhodey gave Curtis a hard look. “There’s no telling what he’ll be like when he comes to.”

  Curtis nodded, still moving backward as Jamie closed the door quietly, his fingers going to his collar for the first time in what felt like forever. He hung back like a voyeur to a moment he didn’t know how to be a part of, instinctively knowing he shouldn’t and couldn’t be. Numb, an undercurrent of fear buzzed beneath his skin.

  Minutes later, Rhodey, grim-faced, strode out of the bedroom. Jamie stepped aside. Without looking at or acknowledging him, the man left the loft on silent footsteps.

  A moment later, Lawson emerged, going to the kitchen. Dumped the entire contents of the ice maker bucket into a large mixing bowl. “Go downstairs. Get all of the ice you can carry from the bar.”

  Glad to have something to do, even at a distance, Jamie nodded. Rushed from the loft. Downstairs, he hesitated only a moment when he saw Reed huddled at a table with Rhodey.

  Not pausing to talk, he shoveled ice into one of the buckets stored under the bar for that purpose. Hoisted the bucket in both hands. On the way back up he took the stairs two at a time, muscles straining under the weight. Past the open door, he went directly to the master bath.

  “More.” Doc took the bucket, dumping the ice over Noah, who lay naked in the tub, his skin gray, face flushed, eyes glazed.

  Bucket in hand Jamie repeated the trip downstairs, throwing his weight as he rounded one corner so he took off a chunk of the unprotected sheetrock. Fabric tore, but any pain didn’t register At the ice chest he dug with both hands, shoveling as much into the bucket as he could at once.

  On his second trip into the bathroom, there was blood. Red stained the side of the tub. Recalling Reed’s words about Rhodey taking Noah away to fix him, Jamie stumbled to a halt.

  Fix him...how?

  Doc took the bucket, dumped it over Noah’s chest. Noah bolted upright, or tried to, but Lawson pressed him back.

  By the tub, Curtis fisted his hands, gaze livid. “I don’t give a shit what he thought he had to do, this is beyond fucked up.”

  The bucket at him again, Jamie ran down the stairs, not seeing the treads or the wall he’d ruined. Only the face of the man he loved, glazed over like he’d been nailed to a cross for sins that weren’t his own.

  Rage spiked hot in his middle. Such a violent emotion he’d never known existed inside him. Not when Trevor had upended his career. Not when his first manager had run off with half of his money. Not when the press lied about his life.

  Moving to the ice chest, foreign thoughts rolled over him. He wanted to kill Rhodey with his bare hands, an urge he couldn’t hide. Not judging by the look he caught on his face in the mirror when he turned toward the back bar, grabbing a of towels to bring with yet another full bucket. He stalked past Reed and Rhodey, moving as quickly as the heavy bucket allowed.

  Upstairs, Lawson met him at the bathroom door, taking the bucket and towels from his fingers. He gently pushed Jamie back when he tried to go in. “You don’t need to see this, Jamie.”

  He started to protest, attempted to move past the Dom, but Curtis’s angry stare cut through his soul. Stilled, he backed up a step, lowering his eyes. Lawson shut the door softly in his face.

  For over an hour, Jamie wore a path in the carpet from the bedroom to the bathroom. Finally, the door opened. Curtis grabbed the duvet from the bed. Looked around the bedroom as if for the first time, expression haunted. Returned to the bathroom.

  Hands fisting the sides of one bed post, Jamie pressed his forehead into the rough wood and remembered the first time Noah had shown him what pleasure in the arms of another man could be. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

  A shout in the bathroom brought his head up. Then Doc’s “Hold him down dammit.”

  Jamie sank onto the side of the bed. Then stood. Paced to the closed bathroom door and leaned his forehead against it, rolling it side to side. It jerked open and he stumbled forward, nearly falling into Doc, who shoved bloody towels at him. “More.”

  The industrial laundry room was next to the gym. Jamie ran through the bar, jerking the keys from the wall that would let him into the gym. Unlocking the door, he shoved in, slapping the lights on as he passed. The laundry room was quiet and dark, the scent of bleach and detergent hanging in the air. He dumped the towels into one of the two large washers and started the load with a cup of bleach and a cap full of detergent. The water rushing into the drum, he turned to the drier where Reed had left the last load before going to bed last night.

  “There’s more in storage that I haven’t unpacked yet.” Reed stood in the doorway, rubbing his hands on his jeans. “Should I get them?”

  “Yes.” Voice breaking, Jamie cleared his throat. “Please.”

  With a jerky nod, Reed bolted out the door, his sneakers slapping against the wood floors as he went across the gym to the storage room. He returned seconds later, still tearing towels out of their packaging. “Let’s go.”

  Tugging the pile of bar towels from the dryer, Jamie bundled them in his arms and ran back out with Reed. He took the corner carefully this time and managed not to slam the door on his way into the loft. At the bathroom door he knocked, before nudging inside. His gaze cut to Noah, on the floor, wrapped in the ruined duvet and Curtis’s arms. The other man had his chin on Noah’s head, his eyes squeezed shut.

  Jamie fought the urge to pull Noah away from the other Dom. “Where’s Doc?”

  Lawson looked up from where he sat, grim-faced on the side of the tub. “He went to get some antibiotics to inject. An IV. His fever is down, but it’ll spike again soon.”

  “But he’s okay, right? Doc has him.” Reed looked to Curtis, his tone rough. “He’s going to be okay.”

  Curtis opened his arm, moti
oning Reed to sit with him, his eyes sheened with tears. “Come here, my boy.”

  Sidling past Jamie into the bathroom, Reed dropped to his knees, resting his head on his Dom’s shoulder, one arm around his lower back. “I’m here. He’s back. He’s fine. You’ll see, okay?”

  Nodding, Curtis kissed the top of Reed’s head. “I know… I know… It’s going to be all right.”

  Doc returned, carrying pouches full of fluid, clear tubing, and his medical bag, placing them on an empty shelf that had held towels now in a heap on the floor. “I’ll get him set up. Then we’ll see about cleaning and stitching that bloody mess.”

  Jamie picked up the towels, moving them out of the way to the empty linen hamper so he could carry them downstairs later. Emotions he didn’t know what to do with sucker punched him as he fidgeted with the leather straps on the wicker basket. Visions of Noah laughing at a silly thing he’d said, gray eyes full of light. Skin tan and glowing with sweat after a rough tumble with Jamie in his bed. How he liked to lean his cheek on his palm and caress Jamie’s hair back from his forehead while they talked.

  Back to the room, he couldn’t turn around and look at what Rhodey had brought back to him—a near-lifeless, broken shell—because if he did, he’d fall apart and Doc would force him to leave. At least if he stayed quiet, held on to some shred of self-control, he wouldn’t be ejected entirely. Forced to leave Noah’s side. Being in here, where he could hear Noah’s labored breaths, know what happened as Doc worked behind him, was better than being cut out of the herd. A traitorous tear leaked down his cheek, a hot trail he swiped angrily with the back of his hand. Jaw clenched, throat working, he cleared his throat. Moved to the linen closet, staring inside at nothing at all.

  A gentle hand settled on his shoulder, Lawson’s voice quiet, “Come here.”

  His “I can’t” was a whisper, barely a sound at all.

  Easing him around, Lawson gave him a level look, one finger under his chin to tip it up. “It wasn’t a request, Jamie.”