by Cameron Dane
…Thrashing in bed, in deep sleep, Hunter walked among hundreds of bloodied, dead soldiers, the bodies piled so high they reached his knees. No. Please. Go away. Hunter covered his eyes, desperate to get through the field of crimson-covered masses to the safety on the other side. In the distance, a male voice called to Hunter, promising him sanctuary in his arms. Yes. Hunter knew that rich voice; it both stirred and soothed him at the same time.
Hunter slogged through the carcasses, tears streaming down his cheeks as he silently apologized for not looking into each of their faces or honoring their deaths. His pulse threaded into his throat and down into his gut, making him feel like he would throw up. He had to get to Alex soon; only Alex could make Hunter better.
Alex called to Hunter again, his voice so close this time Hunter risked opening his eyes. Stunning blond male perfection stood nude less than twenty feet away, beckoning Hunter home. Alex. Hunter ran, tripping and catching himself repeatedly in his need to reach Alex and salvation. One more leap and Hunter cleared the field of death and swooped Alex into his arms. Laughing uproariously, Alex threw his arms around Hunter’s neck and began kissing him all over his face. In between, he promised Hunter wild, romantic nights of lovemaking that would last a lifetime. Hunger burned within Hunter, and he mumbled into Alex’s mouth that he wanted to get started right now.
With one whisper of agreement from Alex, Hunter shoved his way past Alex’s lips and kissed him with a passion that left Alex’s mouth swollen and red. Not nearly enough, not an ounce of anything gentle in him anymore, Hunter snarled, spun Alex around, and folded him over at the waist. Hunter ripped through Alex’s body with a brutal attack, fucking him until he’d surely torn the man in two. Relentless adrenaline pumped through Hunter’s blood, and orgasm offered him no release. Once Hunter came, he held Alex down by the back of the neck and began pummeling him with his fists, reveling in the slap of his knuckles making repeated contact with the man’s flesh. Hunter didn’t stop until he’d mangled every bit of Alex’s perfect body, and the rush of freedom exploded within.
Shouting his victory, Hunter heaved Alex over his head and tossed his limp frame onto the pile of other broken bodies. When Alex hit, he rolled, landing on his back. Unblinking, he looked up at Hunter with forever-open, dead eyes. Oh my God…
“Nooooo!” Hunter jerked up in bed, his scream of denial echoing in his darkened bedroom. Sweat soaked his long-sleeved T-shirt and flannel bottoms, and shaking racked his frame. He blinked and blinked and blinked but could not get Alex’s lifeless stare out of his head.
Wiping his sweat-slick face, Hunter climbed out of bed and raced to the bathroom, chanting, “It was just a dream. It was just a dream.” He turned on the faucet and splashed water on his face, but the cool liquid did nothing to assuage the heat coursing through him, burning him from the inside out. Hunter studied himself in the mirror and told the haunted man looking back at him, “You would never hurt another person like that.”
His gaze immediately dropped to the fresh box of razor blades on the sink. Whispering, desperate not to grab them, Hunter promised, “It was just a dream.”
But maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it was yet another sign that Hunter now carried death with him wherever he went.
“No.” Breaking his commitment to himself but unable to get that terrible image of Alex out of his head, Hunter reached for a razor blade and put it to his flesh. He had to. It was the only way to assure he kept the violence inside contained to himself.
CHAPTER TWO
His mind on his early drive to the airport tomorrow, his gut clenching as he thought about what condition he would find Mack in this weekend, Alex strode out of the grocery store with a plan to get in some solid hours of sleep tonight. Between attuning himself to every breath Mack took when he went home, and sleeping on a couch that did not fit his frame, Alex knew he wouldn’t catch many z’s over the next two days.
With arms full, he made his way down the row of trucks toward his leased compact. As he walked, he mentally started sifting through his to-do list, reprioritizing and deciding which tasks he could trust to other people in his organization. Suddenly one of the paper bags in his arms started to slip. The movement of one triggered the shift of another, and soon the balance of all four bags had Alex bending and surging in an effort to save his food. He cursed as the sound of paper tearing rent through the night air. Alex almost lost his hold completely, but at the last second a Good Samaritan swooped in with a “whoa” and grabbed two of the bags out of his tenuous hold.
Once Alex wrangled the other two bags back under control, he glanced up to say thank you. Deep brown eyes shaded by a black cowboy hat made Alex’s tongue stick to the roof of his mouth, rendering him mute. Goddamn. Alex’s throat went drier than a salt lick. Hunter Tennison stood before him in a long-sleeved chambray shirt with a western yoke and dark jeans that emphasized his long legs and muscular thighs. The hard lines bracketing the man’s mouth and the little sunburst lines fanning from the corner of his eyes only added layers of character to an already fascinating face. He is so sexy. Hunter’s shuttered gaze could not hide a depth of knowledge and life experience. In turn Alex barely managed to swallow down the countless questions he had about this man, some of which had existed before Hunter had come home. Since meeting him a handful of times now, Alex’s curiosity had only grown.
Instead of blurting one of those questions out right now, Alex swallowed, managed to get some saliva back into his mouth, and offered a red-faced smile. “Thanks for the rescue.” He juggled the bags some more in order to stick out his hand. “Again.”
Hunter closed his hand around Alex’s. “You’re welcome.” When Hunter squeezed and shook Alex’s hand, rough calluses and dozens of little nicks etched into Hunter’s skin slid over Alex’s flesh, sending a jolt of awareness through his system. The contact ignited tingle after tingle through Alex’s palm and fingers. He automatically clasped harder in return, ridiculously desperate to embed those imperfections into his skin like a brand. What the hell? Alex didn’t do needy, clingy, or desperate. In point of fact, he ran from it when he sensed it in other men. Shaken, Alex jerked his hand away, and in the process almost sent his groceries crashing to the ground again. Shit. In a flash, Hunter braced his arm flat across the front of the bags and saved them one more time.
“Maybe we should get these to my car before I decide God is trying to tell me something about the junk food I eat.” Flaming from top to bottom -- Alex could fucking feel the inferno taking over his skin -- he took a firm grip on the bags and started walking. Thankfully Hunter fell into step beside him. “Your sister tells me my eating habits are going to catch up with me one day, and I’m sure she’s right.”
A wonderful, gritty chuckle escaped Hunter. “My sister doesn’t see you running every morning. From what I see when I look --” Hunter suddenly went silent.
Alex whipped to look at Hunter, heat suddenly warming him for an entirely different reason than humiliation. Hunter had come to a complete stop. For a moment, it appeared as if he couldn’t see Alex. The man repeatedly whispered something under his breath. What the fuck? Although tightness clearly pulled at his lips, Hunter then nodded and began walking again. Alex scrambled back to his side.
After clearing his throat, Hunter said, “I just meant you obviously take good care of yourself, and I’d bet all your important health stats are just fine.”
Glancing from the corner of his vision, Alex murmured, “So far so good.” Upon reaching his car, Alex clicked the button on his key chain to pop the trunk. Hunter settled his bags in first. He then stole the next part of conversation out of Alex’s mouth when he began taking the bags from Alex’s arms and placing them in the trunk for him. Everything about the moment screamed domestic in Alex’s brain, and Alex didn’t do domestic any more than he did desperate or needy or acted on urges to save men with lovely, lost eyes.
“But Sarah is right” -- Alex felt words spilling out of control from his mouth again -- “and I do a
ppreciate when she and her boys invite me over for dinner to eat something that isn’t processed to within an inch of its life. I eat a lot of crap I can zap in a microwave. It’s not good for me, and I know it.”
Hunter closed the trunk for Alex. “I have a lot of that shit too.” He crossed his arms against his chest, which pulled his shirt taut across his shoulders.
Right there on the tip of Alex’s tongue sat the question: Would you like to go out to eat a real meal with me? Yet something inexplicable inside wouldn’t let Alex put sound to the words and let them take flight. Then again, maybe not so unexplainable. I don’t know him well enough. Just because his sister is a good woman doesn’t mean I can trust him.
Alex hadn’t sent Hunter’s name to his investigator to have a background check done either, and he didn’t date men without knowing the score first. On the other hand, the guy had stopped to help him the other day, and he’d stepped in today too. He would have helped anyone. You aren’t special. That thought actually tugged at Alex inside and made him feel lighter rather than sink him down into the ground. Alex wanted to spend time with a good person, not someone who only exhibited good tendencies around him.
Then it didn’t matter. Hunter ducked his head and began walking away. “I have to go,” he called back to Alex. “The store is closing soon.”
Son of a bitch. Alex silently swore at himself, not at Hunter’s retreating figure. While Alex had let his mind wander ten steps ahead to them possibly getting to know each other better, he had clearly left awkward silence between them. In the process, he had either offended Hunter or damaged his ego. Shit.
“Bye!” Alex yelled across the lamp-lit parking lot. “Thank you.” When three other people openly stared, Alex wanted to skulk into his car. He forced himself to remain in place, watching Hunter from behind, his heart racing much too fast to ignore.
Already a dozen cars away, Hunter waved without looking back and kept striding toward the grocery store entrance. At least he acknowledged I said good-bye.
The store did indeed close in fifteen minutes, but it looked like Hunter had the hounds of hell nipping at his heels. It seemed a bit of an overreaction for a perceived slight, but then again Alex couldn’t entirely explain his own nervousness, rambling, and hesitation tonight either.
He still wanted to put his unusual behavior on his fears about Mack spilling into other parts of his life, or even just pure, flat-out sexual attraction he hadn’t experienced in far too long, but neither of those excuses clicked as neatly into place as they had a few weeks ago. They didn’t quite explain the frequency with which Hunter lived in Alex’s dreams. They don’t quite explain the way my chest inexplicably constricts whenever I’m near him either.
Alex liked living in a world with facts that couldn’t lie, questions that had definitive and logical answers, and situations he could break down into as many parts as necessary in order to successfully solve. Hunter fit none of those criteria. Yet as Alex climbed into his car and drove away, he couldn’t stop the continued fluttering in his belly that existed for this quiet, enigmatic man. I like him. And I don’t know why.
Damn it.
* * * *
Clearly unaware of Hunter across the street, Jasper and Sarah both leaned in on either side of Jace and pressed kisses to his cheeks. In turn, Jace growled and captured Sarah’s mouth to his while sliding his hand down Jasper’s back to his ass. Jasper tucked his blond head into the curve of Jace’s neck, probably giving him a little love bite, and Hunter turned away, unable to look.
Exquisite love and loss hit Hunter in the gut, slamming him so hard he actually grabbed his stomach against the phantom punch. Warm hazel eyes full of laughter took over the picture in Hunter’s mind’s eye, making his heart smile. In a blink the image changed and turned Hunter’s blood freezing cold. He would never forget holding Will’s hand, long after a time he should have let go. Help me, Will. Hunter slipped his hand into his pocket and let his fingers glide over his knife, praying the smooth, cold metal could focus the storm brewing in him and bring Hunter back into control. You always said or did just the right thing to help keep me easy and calm.
A young man’s voice, with its deep southern accent, took over Hunter’s brain. His sandy-haired likeness quickly followed. “Kick back and laugh, Tenny,” Will had said. Smaller than Hunter, wearing a brown T-shirt and army fatigues, Will had then dropped down on the narrow bunk and slung his arm around Hunter’s shoulders. “Uncle Sam doesn’t pay us enough to go crazy with worry on our downtime. Now check out this ad I found in this magazine.” After he said that, Will had folded back a brightly colored, glossy page in a woman’s magazine to reveal a slick black-and-white ad featuring a stunning couple. “I’m gonna go beat off to this smokin’ lady who is wearing nothing but a smile, and when I’m done I’ll give it to you and you can go jerk off to this dude with the underwear showing all his junk. Scully told me he’s supposed to be the chick’s husband.” Will had then slapped the magazine against Hunter’s thigh, even as the thunder of an explosion in the distance shook the foundation of their camp. “Sound like a good night in to you?”
In the parking lot in Quinten, Hunter chuckled as he had that night in Afghanistan. Leave it to Will Hicks not to know a celebrity couple when he saw one. It was one of the many things Hunter loved about the guy. Had loved. Past tense. Giant pinpricks jabbed at Hunter’s middle again, and the pressure of tears had him clutching his knife like a lifeline. What had once soothed Hunter in a time of crisis -- an incredible, odd guy just being himself -- now triggered the destructive impulses Will had often helped keep at bay. Hunter never should have beckoned thoughts of Will. Not when he had to focus himself in order to get through a dinner with a joyous threesome who had no idea their incredible love and happiness pushed Hunter closer and closer to an abyss from which, if he fell, he would never be able to climb his way out.
“Sarah! Jasper!” A familiar, bourbon-rich voice cut across the air and sent a shiver down Hunter’s spine. Hunter spun from where he leaned against the side of a building and watched Alexander Quick jog to Jasper, Sarah, and Jace.
Alex -- looking much too handsome in a dark blazer, white shirt, and jeans -- came to a halt next to the threesome. “It’s great that you guys are still outside. Evening, Jace.” He shook the deputy’s hand. “I’m glad you haven’t gone to eat yet. I wouldn’t have wanted to interrupt your meal.”
With Jace and Jasper tugging Sarah between them, Sarah smiled up at Alex. “We had to wait for Jace to finish up work, and are still waiting for Hunter to arrive. What’s up?”
“It’s my goddamn car. It won’t start. Jasper” -- Alex turned that too-green stare on Sarah’s blond cowboy, and Hunter picked up his stride to get to the group -- “I swear I’ve heard you talk about learning the machinery engines at Hawkins Ranch. Can I be the absolute worst kind of freeloader and ask you to take a look at my car for me?”
Before Jasper could open his mouth, Hunter swooped in and said, “I’ll do it.”
Alex spun to face Hunter. His brow pulled, creating lines Hunter itched to rub away. “Oh, Hunter. Hi.” Alex took a step closer, and the cool evening breeze suddenly crackled with electricity. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”
“I know a bit about cars,” Hunter answered. “You probably just need a jump, and I have cables in my truck.” His breathing actually came a little bit easier when he turned to Sarah, Jace, and Jasper, even if he did have a hard time making eye contact with his sister. “Go ahead and get started on dinner without me.” Hunter already began to back away. “Just in case it’s something more serious, I’ll give Alex a ride to his trailer. If that’s the case, I don’t want you guys sitting around holding up your meal for me.”
“It’s still early,” Sarah said. Every compromise or acquiescence Hunter ever could have dreamed for lived in his sister’s eyes. “We don’t mind waiting. I promise.”
Christ. Hunter could barely look at Sarah without succumbing to her wish for a real family reunion
. Every time Hunter witnessed that desire, though, an overwhelming need to cut or burn or slam himself into something hard and unmovable washed over him. Those needs fought against violent imagery directed at Jace or Jasper, or worse -- Hunter trembled right where he stood -- at Sarah.
Fucking shit. Hunter’s heart squeezed with unbearable pressure, pushing at him to spew the avalanche of emotions inside until it burned him and everyone around him to ashes. No. Fight it. Right in front of everyone, praying nobody noticed, Hunter curled his ungloved hand into a fist and squeezed, harder, harder -- oh yes, please, break, skin, break -- until he sliced tiny nicks into his palm with his trimmed fingernails, drawing sharp, concentrated pain but miniscule amounts of blood.
Keeping his hand closed, Hunter looked at his sister but concentrated on the cuts and wet smears of blood under his fingertips. “It’s better if we reschedule and have dinner another night,” he said.
“If that’s what you want.” Sarah untangled herself from Jace’s and Jasper’s arms and took obvious, careful steps to Hunter’s side. “I’ll call you soon.”
“Okay. Have a good night.” Giving Sarah something, Hunter dipped down and accepted her kiss to his cheek. He then nodded at Jasper and Jace -- ignoring the hell out of his best friend’s scrutinizing, pale stare -- and beckoned to Alex.
“I assume you’re parked at the youth center?” Hunter asked the man, while still entirely conscious of Jace giving him one more hard glance before grabbing Jasper’s hand, putting his arm around Sarah, and guiding them across the street to the diner.
“I am,” Alex answered. Walking backward, he headed in the direction from which he’d come.
“All right.” Hunter moved in the opposite. “Let me go get my truck and I’ll meet you there.”
Alex made eye contact from twenty feet away, holding for a hair longer than necessary, and Hunter became conscious of his breathing for reasons other than fear of losing control. He couldn’t break the hold of Alex’s gaze, and his skin warmed with every second he stared. Alex suddenly nodded and spun away, and he began rubbing at the back of his neck as he strode down the sidewalk.