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Hard Justice: The Asylum Fight Club Book 3

Page 39

by Bianca Sommerland


  “I’m going to fucking kill every last one of them.”

  Pulled from his thoughts at Ezran’s shout, Noah stepped out into the bar, moving fast before the teen could storm out the front door.

  Doc got to him first, not budging when Ezran tried to shove past him. “Not happening, little boy. But shove me again and we’re going to have words on your eighteenth birthday—”

  “Get the fuck out of my way, man.”

  “—if I let you live that long.”

  “All right, time out.” Noah grabbed Ezran’s shoulder and spun him around. “You can’t start murdering the local media, it’ll look terrible on your application to Berkley.”

  Snorting, Doc went back behind the bar to put on a fresh cup of coffee.

  Still in his pajama pants which, no surprise, were black and covered in bloody skulls, Ezran jutted his thumb at the door. “When you see what they’ve said about Reed you’ll wanna be right out there with me.”

  Rubbing one hand over his face, Noah shook his head. “Sit. Don’t make me tell you twice. This morning is not starting off well and with the state of the bathrooms after last night, I know the perfect punishment.”

  Fist clenched, Ezran glared at him. Then inhaled slowly and sat.

  “Thank you.” Noah slid onto the stool beside him. “Now tell me what any of this has to do with Reed?”

  Silently, Ezran pulled out his phone. Tapped the screen a few times. And slammed it on the bar so hard the screen cracked. “They dragged up everything. Fuck, they even…” Ezran swallowed hard. “They even interviewed that bastard of a sperm donor. This is going to fucking destroy my brother and someone’s going to pay.” His gaze hardened as he met Noah’s eyes. “Maybe I should start with the person responsible for all this.”

  “Which would be who?”

  “Who do you think?” Ezran took his phone and opened another tab. Held the screen close to Noah’s face. “They leaked the source. It was Jamie.”

  Behind the bar, Doc stilled. The noise outside got louder. Then faded with the irate buzzing in Noah’s skull. He shook his head. “No.”

  Ezran threw his phone, hitting a row of glasses, the sound of them shattering filling the room, leaving nothing but silence and the boy’s harsh breaths. His whole body shaking, Ezran brought his hands to his hair, fisting the strands as his voice broke. “Reed needs you. He needs you. You can’t choose Jamie over him. Don’t do that. Please don’t fucking do that.”

  Shoving off the stool, Noah wrapped his arms around Ezran. Doc caught his eye and jutted his chin at the hand the teen had let fall to the bar. His knuckles were bloody and swollen. He’d punched something before coming down here.

  “Look at me, I’m not choosing anyone. Try to calm down for a minute. Let Doc take a look at your hand.” He smoothed his hand over Ezran’s hair when the boy nodded. Once a gel ice pack rested over his knuckles and he looked less likely to completely lose it, Noah eased away, holding his gaze. “When Jamie first came here, they claimed he was fucking his manager and involved in a huge drug scandal that destroyed the band. Those were lies. So is this.”

  “How else do you explain them getting the pictures?”

  “I don’t know. But I’m going to find out.” He squeezed Ezran’s shoulder. “Stay here and let Doc take care of you. No one comes in or goes out, understood?”

  A quick nod, then a wince as Doc began to swab his knuckles with alcohol. Gently, but less so than he probably would’ve been if Ezran hadn’t gotten in his face. Though he did give a small nod of approval when Ezran met his eyes, unblinking, and held still.

  Taking to the stairs, Noah got to his loft and opened the door. Footsteps sounded behind him and he turned slamming into Curtis, who slapped his hand into the door, sending it crashing into the wall.

  “Stop. Listen to me.” Noah seized Curtis’s shoulder, muscling him back into the hall, every inch of the flesh on his back and thighs screaming with pain. He could get Curtis to stand down easily, but he wouldn’t go there. Not only because of the agony, or what Rhodey had instilled in him with his last, brutal lesson. He respected the man too much. “I need you to trust me. Give me some time to get to the bottom of this. Go back to your boy, he shouldn’t be alone right now.”

  Curtis shook his head and let out a rough laugh. “Now you’re the calm, reasonable one? Why the fuck should I ever trust you? And you’re going to protect him now?”

  “Because I know he didn’t do this.”

  “Then who did? Someone’s going to pay for this. You get in my way and it just might be you.”

  “Curtis.” The firm tone he’d refused to use came from Lawson, who stepped up to Curtis’s side and wrapped his hand around the back of his neck. “Matt’s with Reed, but Noah’s right. You should be there too. Go.”

  Drawing in a shuddering breath, Curtis nodded slowly. “Fine. But this isn’t over.”

  For a moment after Curtis left, Lawson stood there, his expression unreadable. He studied Noah as though he needed an answer but wasn’t sure what needed to be asked first. Out of everyone, his calm was the most needed. But like Curtis, Noah wasn’t sure he’d earned the man’s trust. Not yet.

  There were no accusations. No rage. Only a slow incline of his head before Lawson put his hand on his shoulder and leaned in close. “Fix this.”

  Finally alone, Noah stepped into his loft. Closed the door quietly behind him. He rested against it, letting the pain steady him. Heart pounding, he pulled out his phone. Stared at his uncle’s number, then shook his head. He could do this. Rhodey wouldn’t be on Jamie’s side. At this point, no one would.

  Except for him. Not against the people he loved, but he couldn’t see it that way. All he could see was the world he’d enfolded around Jamie turning on him. How happy Jamie had been. And how there was no fucking way in hell he’d have risked all that for… What? Some shitty headlines? Being hunted down wherever he went to the point he couldn’t step past the damn doors? Losing friendships that meant so much to him? All the realness he craved?

  He crossed the loft, stepping into his bedroom. The bed was empty. In the bathroom he heard a soft, broken sob. Moving slowly, he went in, his heart breaking as he saw his little cat, curled up next to the toilet, his skin as pale as the porcelain, cheeks wet with tears.

  “I didn’t. I swear I didn’t.” He shook his head, over and over. “I should have been more careful.”

  “Shh, come here.” Without waiting for Jamie’s response, he scooped him up in his arms. Almost slammed into the doorframe as the agony twisted his guts, but he got Jamie to his bed and laid him down, careful not to let him see how much every move hurt. Sitting, he drew Jamie closer to rest his head on his lap and stroked his hair. “Tell me what happened.”

  “Why are you even letting me? You should hate me, this is all my fault.” Jamie rubbed his hands over his face, sat up, facing Noah as though ready to take any punishment he decided on. The desperation in his eyes, in his tone, saying he didn’t care what it would be, but he hoped it would be enough. “Frank called me earlier and I fired him. I was so proud of myself. I thought you’d be proud of me too. God, I’m so full of myself.”

  “Stop it. I am proud of you. It’s about time you made it clear that bastard can’t use you anymore.”

  Jamie shook his head. “But he showed up here and I was in a rush to get on stage. I asked him to hold my robe and my phone was inside.” He pressed his eyes shut. “He used to answer calls for me all the time. I didn’t even think of it. Him using my phone to send the photos to the press is what got their attention so fast. Fuck, I—”

  “Rules still apply, little cat.” When Noah tapped his finger over Jamie’s lips, relief filled his boy’s eyes. He wouldn’t punish him now, but hopefully the reminder was enough to show Jamie he wasn’t alone. “Do you know anyone connected with the press who’d print your side? Expose Frank for the lowlife he is? I don’t imagine many would want to work with him. Even if he managed to escape the drug charges, his
reputation will be ruined.”

  “That…” Jamie’s eyes widened. “That I can totally do. But…” He frowned, his eyes welling with tears. “I don’t care if my fans, if people in L.A. believe me. No one here will. And Reed—”

  “Is smart and one of the most forgiving people I know. He’ll hear you out once the shock passes.” He sighed, leaning over to take his phone from the nightstand drawer, pulling up the first article he found which focused on Reed. The one where they’d interviewed his… ‘father’. They must have been at the man’s door before dawn. And he’d been eager to soak up the attention. And likely, a fat check for his story. He read over the first few lines. “Jesus Christ.”

  Jamie sat up, doing his best to read with him, but he didn’t get much past the headline and this wasn’t the time for a reading lesson. Noah read it to him, his throat tightening at the quotes of how out of control Reed had been.

  The whole thing was a complete fabrication. He let out a bitter laugh. “I guess surrendering your child sounds better than abandoning them while their mother is serving her country. And he still managed to sound like a heartless asshole.”

  “Has he ever tried to contact Reed?”

  Noah shook his head. “He had two kids with his new girlfriend, then walked out on them too. I tried to get more information, because I thought Reed might want to get to know them, but...she was young. Gave them up in a closed adoption. Please, don’t ever tell him. It would hurt him too much.”

  “I won’t.” Jamie sniffed and rubbed his hand under his nose. “This isn’t fair. At least I made good money and did something I loved while being part of all this noise. Reed didn’t ask for any of this.”

  “And we’re going to fix it so he’s not a part of it anymore.” He considered their options, hating the most obvious one, but he had to offer it up anyway. “What if you told them you’re with me?”

  Jamie’s eyes widened with horror. “No way. Noah, they’ll do the same thing to you. This is bad enough. I can do this. I’ll...I’ll give them something. But I’m not putting a target on your back.”

  The front door opened and closed. Noah frowned. Only one person had the key to his loft besides himself and Jamie. He hesitated for a moment, before shoving Jamie onto his back and pulling down his shiny little shorts. He undid the cock cage, chuckling softly at his boy’s soft moan. He’d said until today and he didn’t want Jamie distracted by it while dealing with those bloodthirsty reporters.

  For now, his little cat needed to be the man with the fake smile. The perfect answers. The one who understood that world better than Noah ever cared to. He pointed at Jamie’s phone. “Make the calls you need to make. I won’t be long.”

  In the living room, Rhodey stood in front of the window, a hard set to his jaw as he stared down at the media vans and the crowd around the gate. He didn’t speak for a long time. Simply watched them all like they were cockroaches infesting one of his safehouses and he was trying to decide if he’d be around long enough to make it worth the effort to get rid of them.

  Or if he’d simply burn the whole thing to the ground.

  “Something came very close to triggering you. Your boy’s down in the bar, ready to slit some throats. The other one is just...sitting there. Staring at the wall. He’s hardly hearing a word anyone says to him.” Rhodey’s eyes narrowed. “You’re here, Noah. I shouldn’t have to take care of them for you.”

  “I am taking care of them. I just need some time.”

  “To make excuses?”

  “They’re not excuses. Jamie’s a victim in this too.”

  A sharp laugh and Rhodey stared at him. “Let me guess. That slimy bastard he was talking to last night did this. I’m not surprised but consider this.” He turned away from the window, arms folded over his chest. “So long as he maintains connections to that life, everyone you love will always be at risk. And he’s not ready to let it go. Even after everything that man’s done to him, he was still willing to hear him out.”

  “He hates that bastard.”

  “Him, maybe. But how quickly could he get another manager? How soon before the next scandal shows up at your doors? Are you going to wait until Ezran’s hounded at University? Or no…” He cocked his head. “Maybe you’ll throw yourself to them so they can start harassing your mother.”

  Noah blinked at the man. Took a step back. “That won’t happen.”

  “No, it won’t, plemjáš.” Rhodey stepped toward him and grabbed his shoulder. “Send him back. Back to that life he hasn’t let go of. If it means nothing to him, he’ll end it. He’ll return to you. But you won’t let him stay because that collar is making the choice for him.”

  “Don’t…” Noah’s eyes burned. He couldn’t breathe. “Rhodey—”

  “Prosto sdelay eto. Tepér' zhe.”

  Back in the room, Noah pulled out his wallet, slipping behind Jamie as he spoke to someone on the phone, his tone firm. Strong. Rhodey was right. Jamie knew how to deal with those people. He was still one of them. He couldn’t live like this, torn between two worlds, waiting for one to spill onto the other and rip his whole existence apart.

  “Just do it. Now.”

  A command he couldn’t disobey. His mind tried to make sense of it even as he went through the motions. What Rhodey wanted from him. The choice he’d taken away.

  Because Noah couldn’t be trusted to make the right one.

  For Ezran.

  For Reed.

  Or even for Jamie.

  There was no way to fight. To argue. Only go through the motions.

  He took out the small key and slipped it into the lock at the back of Jamie’s collar. Then drew it away.

  The phone fell from Jamie’s hand. He touched his neck. “Noah? What are you doing?”

  “You have to go. When you’re back in L.A., you can talk to whoever you need to. Decide what you really want.” Noah stepped back and lay the collar on his dresser. “You’re in control, from now on.”

  “No… Noah…” He shook his head. Stumbled from the bed, reaching for his collar. “That’s mine. You gave it to me and it means you’re in control. That’s what I want.”

  “It was always mine to give or take away.” Noah wanted to stop, but he couldn’t. Every part of him was numb. As though that key had unlocked all that held him together. He met Jamie’s eyes. “You can leave through the back. I’ll have a car brought for you.”

  “I can get my own car. That’s not the point.” Jamie hiked his chin up. “I’m not leaving.”

  Noah’s eyes narrowed. This wasn’t the first time he’d had to use the power he had over someone else for their own good. It wasn’t like with Curtis. He wasn’t taking away Jamie’s freedom. He was giving it back. “If I ever meant anything to you as your Dom, you will obey my orders.”

  Tears streaming down his cheeks, Jamie worked his jaw, a challenge in his eyes. “You haven’t given me one.”

  Always with the loopholes. Noah would have smiled if he could. If this wasn’t happening at all. Instead, he lowered his voice, leaving no room for misinterpretation.

  “Get. Out.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Naked. He was naked.

  And alone.

  Or he might as well have been.

  Noah looked past him, not at him. Jamie brought his hands down to cover himself, not remembering where he’d left his duffel. Tears smeared his vision and he stumbled. Used to Noah catching him, he almost didn’t put his hand out in time and his knee hit the corner of the dresser.

  “Fuck.” He winced, waiting for the sharp reprimand.

  Noah remained where he was, arms crossed over his chest, like a statue.

  Or a prison guard.

  Come to free him from his cell…

  He shook his head, pulling open the drawer where his clothes were kept. The leather pants he’d arrived in that first day, his new jeans, the ripped pair. A few tops. He took out the newer ones, then set them aside. Noah didn’t like them. They were too expensive. B
ut the press was out there. He needed armor. Lots of armor. Sunglasses.

  Where are my sunglasses?

  Fisting the clothes, he tossed them out of the dresser onto the floor, breaths coming quicker, panic crawling up his throat.

  Not in the drawer.

  Then where…

  A memory of the wig and the glasses hitting the limo seat surfaced and he swore again. Laughed. He’d abandoned his ability to hide, from anyone, on that seat before he’d crossed The Asylum’s gates. He’d arrived with his phone and a duffel full of clothes he’d thought might fit in where he was going, and Wren had taken away his last disguise almost the moment he’d arrived.

  Tugging on his underwear, he realized he was going to be dressed in the bedroom while he packed, and stilled. Put his hand to his naked throat and chanced a glance to Noah.

  Who hadn’t moved.

  God, his face was beautiful. That hard stare looked right through him and he swallowed down the longing that pierced his middle even now. The nipple rings fell out of his jeans pockets when he snapped them out. He watched them roll under the bed. There was so much he’d wanted from this man. So much he would have given.

  Except whatever had gone down out there in the loft had been the last straw. Something had convinced his—had convinced Noah he didn’t belong at The Asylum. Not anymore.

  If I ever did.

  Jeans on, he shoved his phone in his back pocket with shaking fingers. Found his wallet on top of the dresser, his hand stilling over the leather as it passed by the dish of change. He bit his tongue against the impulse to drop to his knees and beg for a different punishment, one that would make him still be Noah’s boy.

  “The whip… I can...you can do that. I can take that.” He went to the window, half planning his escape, half figuring out how to stay. “Or the cane… Twenty, thirty, however many strokes. I’ll take it. Anything. Because all this can’t have been nothing. It meant something…”

  He talked to himself now, trying to find the breath, the will, to turn back around. When he did, his gaze went to the cage in the open toy closet and he nearly stepped toward it, but when he moved Noah shifted as if the man read his mind, saw him even now. At the end.

 

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