Once Upon a Rainbow, Volume One

by Mickie B. Ashling

  Christian joined Jordan in the kitchen, and they quickly closed down the shop, working with practiced efficiency. When the kitchen was in order, he went out to wipe down the tables and was disappointed to find that Dani had left, his coffee mug sitting empty on the low table beside the hearth. Damn. He’d wanted to talk with him some more.

  Once they’d swept the floor and counted the register for the morning deposit at the bank, they left the shop, Jordan locking the door behind them. A gust of cold wind laced with snow struck them, and Christian turned up the collar on his jacket.

  “See you tomorrow,” Jordan said with a wave and started down the well-lit sidewalk toward his car parked at the curb. Christian turned in the opposite direction to his own beat-up sedan, and jumped, pulse racing as a figure detached from the wall.

  “Dani?”

  The guy nodded, coming up to him. Dani’s hands were clenched at his sides, but he raised his chin defiantly. “I’m ready. The alley is dark, or we can go inside where it’s warmer…”

  Christian looked at him in confusion. “What do you mean?”

  “Payment. You said I could pay you back later. I’m ready.” His face was deathly white, but there was a determined, desperate gleam in his eyes that made Christian’s heart thump painfully.

  “This wasn’t what I meant at all,” he said, needing to be perfectly clear. What kind of life did Dani have, that he thought… Yes, he wanted Dani in his bed, but not like this. He moved closer, gently cupping Dani’s face. He leaned and rested their foreheads together, gazing into the wide, shadow-filled eyes.

  “When I fuck you, Dani, it will be because you want me to. No other reason,” he promised. Desire flared in Dani’s gray eyes, and Christian touched his full lips with his thumb, groaning as they parted. “Go home, sweetheart, before you catch your death of cold. We’ll talk tomorrow, okay?”

  Dani nodded, eyes glimmering with a few tears. He hesitated as if to say something but shoved his hands in his coat pockets and hastened down the dark street. Christian watched him go, his lips pressed together.

  “I’ll find out your story, Dani,” he promised to his retreating back. After fishing his keys from a pocket, he got in his car and drove home, careful on the icy road. He hoped Dani hadn’t far to walk on this cold night.

  Chapter Two

  DANI APPROACHED THE run-down house, relieved to find the cellar windows dark, even though it was still relatively early. He retrieved the burlap sack he’d hidden in the bushes and eased open the door to their apartment, listening carefully in the stillness. Maybe Carl—he would never again call him Father—had already passed out. Hell, he was afraid to hope that.

  The door creaked as he closed it, and the anxiety that accompanied his days spiked. “Hello?” he called. Carl expected a greeting before Dani could escape to his bed in the back. No answer. He tiptoed across the stark room, the few pieces of furniture black silhouettes. The cold air smelled of onions from Carl’s dinner, and candlewax. Maybe Carl had gotten some work done.

  Dani snorted. Fat chance. The candles he peddled had been made by him and his mother. Carl spent his days at the local pub. His nights—a shiver ran through Dani. Mother had died of cancer the year before, God rest her soul, and Dani wished with all his heart he could have gone with her. Carl, his goddamn father, hadn’t been right in his mind since. He’d always been a brute to them, but now…

  He set the bag of candles on the scarred kitchen table and drew a few crumpled bills from an inside pocket of his coat. He made sure Carl got the money he expected from the sale of the candles, Dani only keeping what he needed for dinner. If one could call coffee and a half-sandwich dinner. Just think of the meat pies the rest of the money could buy! But the sandwich shop was a place out of the cold. And Christian worked there, the beautiful man who always had a kind word for him. He thought he’d met an angel that first night he’d gathered his courage and entered the shop, drawn by the warm glow of the fire.

  Hot blood rose in his neck, burned his cheeks. If he had sold even one more candle today, he could have gotten his own food and not suffered Christian’s charity. That had been humiliating. Christian had spoken of payment, but how stupid of Dani to think the man wanted him, too thin and bony, his clothing so threadbare he washed them by hand rather than risk having them fall apart in the washing machine they shared with the rest of the tenants.

  He couldn’t go back there. Not after this. Heart sore, shaking in the cold room, he hurried to the far end of the cellar apartment. He took a second to glance into his father’s room as he passed. The bed was rumpled but empty, minus the quilt, and a sick dread knotted his stomach. He didn’t have a room of his own, just an old mattress and a blanket behind a stack of crates at the back wall.

  His limbs were heavy as he approached his bed. Sure enough, a dark form lay tangled in the covers. Carl claimed to sleep with him for warmth, but lately there had been straying fingers and a hot breath on his neck. A hard shudder left Dani weak. He needed to get out of that house.

  Defeated, his shoulders slumped. Where would he go? Who’d hire the boy who had sold candles on the street corner with his mother for years, and now stood out there alone, pale and hungry, shivering in his thin jacket?

  A loud snort broke the silence, making him jump. Balling a hand into a fist, Dani went back to Carl’s room. Stepping inside, he listened intently, reassured by the muffled snores floating to him. He nudged the door closed and crossed to the large dresser beside the bed, the one piece of nice furniture in the apartment. It had been his mother’s, the only thing she had brought to the marriage from her old life, with roses carved into the oak around the mirror and on each drawer.

  She never talked about that time, though the bits of lace and a pair of fine gloves spoke of wealth and happier days, before she had married the local candlemaker. Dani didn’t know why she’d done it, but she had been young and pretty and romantic, probably swept off her feet. Carl had been handsome, once. Their single wedding picture proved that. Before he began to drink.

  After lighting the candle on the dresser top, Dani pulled open the heavy first drawer, careful not to let it squeak. Carl used the other drawers, but this one had been his mother’s, her clothing in neat piles, smelling of the lavender sachets she favored. Dani smiled despite his tears at the scent. He’d loved his sweet mother so much.

  A small box in the corner held some trinkets and cheap jewelry. Dani picked out the hair comb she always wore, covered in bright plastic beads and ribbons. Pushing his hair back on the left, he slipped the comb in place, letting the ribbon curl against his cheek. He did resemble her a little, the glittering bauble softening his features. The candlelight made his eyes seem wider, softer. He bit his lips to redden them.

  “Would you like me like this?” he asked his reflection, thinking of Christian, imagining his delighted gaze on him. Pain stabbed his heart. Mother had understood his moods, knowing somehow when he needed gentleness, chatting merrily while she brushed out his hair. Let him play with her jewelry.

  Wistfulness touched the expression in the mirror. “But who could love a beast?” He paraphrased a line from the fairy tale Mother used to read to him. He’d loved that story, imagining the man who would one day see his beauty. But he was too thin. Too queer. Even if Christian liked men, Dani wasn’t one half the time. Besides, Christian had already rejected him. He didn’t think he would risk that again.

  Sighing, he pulled the comb from his hair and returned it to the box. After a brief hesitation, he reached to the back of the drawer, hoping Carl hadn’t… Yes, it was still there. He drew out the small velvet box he knew held a silver locket, tarnished almost black, carrying a picture of his mother as a young girl. Carl had probably never set eyes on it or would have hawked it years ago.

  Dani had only seen it once, one evening when Carl had been out later than usual. He’d heard his mother crying in her room. Scared, he’d gone in and found her clutching the locket in her hand. She missed her family so much. Mi
ssed her mother.

  She’d frightened him badly. He felt sure she’d go back to that happier life he had no part of, a poor man’s son. But she’d laughed and dried her eyes and pulled him onto her lap, describing the parties she’d been to, with mounds of ice cream and cake. Orchestras at the park and dancing with her beaus. Dani had made her describe the dresses she’d worn in detail, his heart burning for the lacy ruffles and silk stockings and the bright jewels in her hair.

  Bringing the dusty box to his lips, he kissed it without opening it and then tucked it into a pocket. “I miss you,” he confessed in the silent room and blew out the candle. After allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness, he crossed the bare floor and eased open the door. Carl’s snores echoed through the cold dwelling, and Dani hurried to the front of the apartment. Now that he was going, he was frantic that Carl would wake up and stop him. His temper could be terrifying.

  Dani snatched up the sack of candles and stuffed the few dollars he’d made into his jeans pocket before going to the front door. Carl slept in his coat, but he’d left his hat with his boots. He jammed the woolen cap on his head and left without a second thought. The place hadn’t been home for a year, ever since Mother had left him behind.

  The frigid air outside struck him like knives through his thin clothing. Hunching into his coat, he slung the sack over his shoulder and started down the icy street. He had to keep walking or risk freezing to death. But where would he go? Didn’t matter. Any place was better than here, where he was starved and beaten, Carl’s belt finding his back every time the man drank.

  “I wish,” he began and then swallowed a sob, fighting the tears threatening to spill over. It would be a horrible joke if they froze on his face. But each step took him farther away from Christian. He wished he’d had one kiss from him, something from the handsome man to hold in his heart. But he didn’t have even that small comfort for the lonely nights ahead.

  Chapter Three

  CHRISTIAN FROWNED OUT the front windshield to read the passing street sign, darting a glance at the GPS on his phone. Where the hell was Siri taking him? Disgusted, he tossed the phone on the passenger seat and continued to ease down the bumpy road, marked with potholes and trash. He’d never been in this part of town, with good reason. It was dangerous even in the morning light. He was just glad his car was a piece of junk and wouldn’t draw attention.

  Boarded-up storefronts and abandoned vehicles lined the icy street. Fucking Jordan. They were supposed to meet at the new pub that boasted the best breakfast in town. Now he’d have to call him for better directions, when he wasn’t that keen on spending his day off with the guy in the first place.

  Fact was, he was bored. His roommates at their apartment off-campus were gone for another ten days, and the weather was turning bad, making a trip to Portland to see his parents and sister inadvisable. He should have simply gotten a six-pack and stayed home watching football.

  At least he had the New Year’s Eve dance party at the Grange that night to look forward to. He’d had fun last year. His lips twitched into a smile. Who was the bit of fluff he’d taken home? Kenny or something. The guy had been fun, kinky even, but gone in the morning without leaving his number. Too bad. Christian would have liked to see him again.

  A small park, swings rusted out and the bushes overgrown, came into view on the street corner and he pulled over. The engine ticked as it cooled in the frigid air, a few flakes of snow floating from the gray sky. A couple of pedestrians hurried by on the sidewalk, hunched against the cold. Otherwise, the street seemed deserted. He frowned at the metal merry-go-round buried in dead leaves and discarded fast-food wrappers. Maybe he should head back to the main road and call Jordan from there. Safer.

  About to turn the key in the ignition, he paused as movement caught his attention. He hadn’t noticed the figure huddled on the broken bench and widened his eyes in recognition. Despite the stocking cap covering his light hair, Christian would have known that slim form and threadbare coat anywhere. What was Dani doing out on a day like this? He must be freezing to death.

  His heart thumped at the thought. After snatching up his keys, he climbed from the car and slipped a little on the icy pavement. His boots crunched as he crossed the dead lawn, breath plumes of white smoke, reinforcing his fear. Shit. The idiot hadn’t been out in the cold dressed like that for too long, had he? The guy needed looking after.

  Christian stopped in front of the bench, concerned when Dani didn’t glance up. “Hey.” He winced when Dani startled and quickly cleared the gruffness from his voice. “Dani, what are you doing out here?”

  Dani lifted his head, and Christian gasped at the whiteness of his face, his gray eyes dulled with exhaustion. His chest tightened. He wanted to lift Dani right off the bench and hold him close, stop the violent shivers that ran through the slim body.

  “You okay?” he asked inanely, not sure what to do.

  Dani shrugged, lowering his chin to his arms folded on his drawn-up knees. Enough. Reaching down, Christian gripped his elbow and tugged, urging him to his feet. Dani roused, making a grab for the bag beside him on the seat. Christian took it from him, finding it heavier than it appeared.

  “Come on,” he commanded, putting an arm around Dani’s waist and guiding him awkwardly to his car. Dani pulled back a little as they approached the street then gave in, letting his head fall back on Christian’s shoulder, pressing closer as if seeking warmth. Christian could feel the coldness of his body and hurried them forward.

  Finally arriving at the car, he unlocked the passenger door and pushed Dani into the tattered seat. Knowing he needed to get him warm, he removed his coat and tucked it around the shaking man, dropped the bag at his feet. He shut the door and hurried around to the driver’s side. In his haste, he fumbled to get the key in the ignition and let out a relieved breath when the engine caught and warm air poured out of the heater vents.

  Dani still hadn’t said a word and Christian glanced at him. He had his head back on the seat, eyes closed, and his fine-boned features were stark with cold. There were dark bruises around his eyes as if he hadn’t slept in days. The slender hands clenched in his lap mottled as they warmed, the skin on the knuckles chapped and cracked, but thankfully there was no sign of frostbite.

  Christian examined Dani’s shoes, the canvas torn and muddy, crusted with ice. Shit. He needed to get him out of the cold, right now. With a quick glance over his left shoulder, he made a U-turn on the empty street and headed back to the main road that would take him to the other side of town and his apartment.

  Dani stirred and muttered something as they turned into the heavier traffic of Baker Street, but in a moment, a soft snore escaped him as he settled into sleep. Christian panicked at the sound. Wasn’t he supposed to keep the guy awake? No, maybe that was for head injuries. Damn, what did he know about hypothermia? He racked his brain for anything he might have learned in health class or from any of the action movies he favored, but nothing rose to the surface except to get him someplace warm.

  He played loose with the traffic laws, but it still seemed to take forever to get back to his neighborhood and the attractive apartment complex where he lived. Once he’d parked, he wasted no time exiting and hurrying around to Dani’s side of the car, where he had to nudge him on the shoulder to wake him.

  “We’re home,” he said reassuringly and bent to practically lift Dani out of the car. Dani made an effort to reach for his bag, and Christian cupped his cheek to get his attention.

  “Let me get that,” he said, throat tight at the panic in those pretty eyes. A cough rumbled up from Dani’s chest, and he clutched feebly at Christian’s arm, nodding agreement even as he put a hand to his throat as if in pain.

  After snatching the bag off the floor, he half carried Dani up the enclosed steps to the second floor and ushered him into the apartment, quiet now without his roommates. Christian tossed his keys and Dani’s bag on a table by the door and led Dani straight to his bedroom and lowered him into
a chair.

  “I’m going to try to get you warm, okay?” he asked, touching Dani’s white face. The skin was still cold, but less so than before. That was a good sign, right? At least he wasn’t the brilliant red that signified hypothermia. He remembered that much from his health classes. Dani blinked wearily, teeth chattering as he began to shake, apparently too exhausted to reply.

  Christian knelt at his feet, studied the ice-coated shoes with dismay. Fuck. None of Dani’s toes had better fall off. He undid the laces, pressed his lips firmly together as he slid one shoe off, then the other. Drawing a breath, he carefully rolled down a sock and eased it off the toes. He could have cried in relief when five little white digits remained on the slim foot, showing none of the black spots of frostbite.

  He dealt with the other sock then glanced up, catching Dani’s intent gaze. They stared at each other a moment, and then color crept up Dani’s neck and he turned his face shyly aside. How adorable is that?

  He leaned forward. “We have to get your clothes off,” he said gently and undid the zipper on Dani’s jacket. Dani shrugged out of it and allowed Christian to pull his shirt over his head. Oh, hell. Dani was all lean muscle and bone with tiny dark nipples, pebbled with cold. Breathtaking, though Christian would make sure he ate more. A few healthy pounds wouldn’t go amiss on him.

  Standing abruptly, he helped Dani to his feet. “Get your pants off and climb in bed,” he instructed, deliberately turning his back. He heard the rustle of fabric behind him as he drew down the blankets and then saw the flash of a white thigh as Dani slid under the covers. Christian regarded him, small and frightened, shivering, and came to a sudden decision. He stripped out of his own clothing and climbed in beside Dani, pulled him against his chest.

  “Shush, baby,” he soothed when Dani whimpered. “Go to sleep. I’ll keep you warm.”