Sasha rolled out of bed with fewer creaky joints this morning and examined his bruised ribs in the bathroom mirror. They seemed less discolored and definitely didn’t hurt as much. He took care of business and washed up, the smells from the kitchen teasing him. He slipped into Neal’s robe and stepped into the living room right as Steve served the bacon.
“Smells good in here,” Sasha said.
Steve grinned. “Have some coffee, it’s on the counter.”
“I’ll get the toast,” Carlos offered.
“Can I get anything?” Sasha asked.
“A chair?” Steve retorted.
Paul walked in from the hallway and pushed the door shut. “He says he won’t come in, Boss.”
“Dammit,” Neal muttered.
“TJ’ll come around when he’s ready,” Carlos murmured.
“Who’s TJ?” Sasha asked, stirring the cream into his coffee.
A short silence met his question and then Neal sighed. “He’s one of my men, but he had a rough time after Afghanistan and has trouble with strangers.”
“Oh.” Sasha sipped, and added more sugar. Neal and Paul exchanged a look as he turned. Sasha frowned. What was it about this TJ that had them on edge?
“Okay, guys, sit down.” Steve brought a huge skillet over and served them each a huge helping of colorful scrambled eggs and vegetables. Carlos passed around toast and they all dug in, concentrating on eating, and a lull fell on the conversation.
Sasha offered to help with the dishes, and he and Carlos rinsed them and filled the dishwasher. Paul stepped out to check on something downstairs and Steve went with him to collect his laundry.
“Is this the only apartment on the top floor?” Sasha asked.
Carlos nodded. “Yeah. Me and the guys, except Mario, share apartments on the second floor.”
“Who’s Mario?”
Carlos sipped his coffee. “He was in our unit. He’s the cook now. He lives with his huge family that bugs him to produce grandkids.”
Sasha chuckled.
“What was your interview for?”
“A new post at Northwestern, in Veterinary Medicine.” He glanced over to find Carlos studying him with every appearance of interest. He explained more of the job.
“When do you find out?”
“In a couple of weeks.” Sasha sneaked a peak at Carlos’s ass as he loaded the dishwasher, but Carlos turned his head and caught him at it. Sasha flushed with a surge of heat that made him dizzy.
Carlos didn’t seem to mind. “Wow, you’re really full on, aren’t you?”
Sasha frowned. “What do you mean?”
“You don’t like girls?”
He shrugged. “I’ve experimented, like anyone else. I like girls, they just don’t get me hot. I knew pretty early on I liked men. Why?”
“I like to keep my options open.”
Sasha shrugged and turned to reach for the stack of plates waiting to be rinsed. “I came out when I was twenty-two, but by then it was a formality. Turns out, my aunt and the rest of my coven already knew. I thought my dad would kill me, but he was really cool about it.”
“What’s he think about you moving here?”
“He died when I was in college.”
Carlos’s eyes widened. “Wow. I’m really sorry.”
“Thanks.”
“What about your mom?”
“She was upset I wouldn’t give her any grandkids. You know how her generation is. I’m an only child and my mom was pretty protective of me, since she wanted a big family and they almost didn’t even have me.”
“Mama’s boy, huh?”
“Shut up.”
Sasha wiped down the table and turned back to find Carlos right behind him. He stopped, inches away, eyes locked on Carlos’s lips. Full and soft-looking, they quirked up into a grin. He flushed and stepped back.
“Sorry,” he mumbled.
The door sprang open and Paul appeared. “God dammit, Neal!”
“What? I’m busy,” Neal shouted from the bathroom.
“Tell him somebody’s busting up the Charger,” Paul snarled at Sasha and raced into the hall. Carlos blinked and then shot after him.
Neal burst out of the bathroom. Sasha frowned, amazed that Neal could hear while in the other room and the speed with which he moved. Sprinting after Neal, Sasha couldn’t seem to catch up until he joined the men in the alley. He vowed to ramp up his running again; he must be way out of shape.
He listened while yet another huge man explained what happened. “…after TJ yells on the radio that we have company in the car lot, I come out as the welcome wagon and must’ve scared them off.”
Sasha could understand the reaction. This new man had Marine stamped all over him, literally, with USMC tattooed on his biceps. Over six feet tall, he possessed more muscles than any of the men Sasha met to date. The assault rifle probably helped too.
Paul made the introductions. “Doc, this is Mario, the cook.”
Sasha blinked and the other man glared at Paul, who grinned back. Then the new man’s attention switched to him. Swinging the rifle over his shoulder and behind his back, he reached out huge arms and engulfed Sasha in a bear hug.
“I heard about you and how you got hurt. You okay, little guy?”
“Fine, except my ribs.” Sasha blinked away the tears that the hug caused. That nickname better not stick… “Call me Doc. Everyone else does.” After being released, he got an awkward pat on the shoulder instead. “How did TJ know what was going on?”
“We have a camera on the private lot, because it’s so far from the back door.”
Joining the men walking down the alley, they drew nearer to Neal. Neal had run past them to check the damage to his car and no one seemed in a hurry to interrupt his inspection. He kept circling the Charger, his boots making crunching noises in the glass scattered over the pavement. His silence was kinda scary. Sasha winced seeing the broken windshield and taillights.
“Punks,” snarled Paul.
“That’s the odd thing. It was a big guy dressed like an eighties pimp, not a gang banger. And when he jumped in the waiting car I think he yelled something Russian,” Mario explained.
Sasha’s heart sank. The last thing he had wanted to do was cause trouble. “If these guys are back because of me… Wait, I remember something one said.” Neal turned to look at him and Sasha was the center of attention. “They said that it was boring staking out this place.”
“Crap, they’re casing us and we didn’t notice.” Carlos glared around, as if expecting them to drive back.
“Guess we shoulda listened to TJ and gotten more cameras, Sarge,” Mario rumbled.
“Okay, everyone back inside. Tell TJ to call somebody to fix the gate. We need to have a briefing.” Neal didn’t look happy.
While Paul spoke into the radio, they all trooped back into the building.
Paul and Carlos plopped down on the huge couch that ran the length of Neal’s office. In a moment, Mario joined them, minus the assault rifle.
Sasha gazed around, curious; Neal missed showing this during the tour. His cock twitched remembering how they started in the club playroom area and didn’t leave until he resembled a puddle.
The floor continued the concrete of the dining area, but the long couch’s rich forest green gave the room color. A huge black-and-white photo, framed in black lacquer, dominated the wall. In it, tigers played in the snow. From their size and coats, they must be Siberian tigers. Neal’s desk, a monstrosity of gleaming cherry-wood, showed some small scars while a cheap computer chair sat behind it, almost hidden. Two chairs, filched from the restaurant, waited in front.
Neal perched on the corner of his desk while fiddling with the phone. He gestured to one of the chairs, after looking up and seeing Sasha hovering near the door. Sasha flipped it around to face both Neal and the couch.
“There. I think I’ve got TJ on speaker.”
“Yeah, ya do.” The tinny voice sounded long suffering. It also held a f
aint drawl and Sasha listened with interest to the shy Marine that avoided him. “I’m freezing some pics of the perps and sending them to ya on your computer.” A paused followed. “You do have it on?”
Neal leaned over his desk. “Yup.”
“What’s going on?” Paul folded his arms over his chest, hints of tattoo ink showing from under the sleeve of his T-shirt.
“The Russians seem to be interested in us again,” Neal admitted.
“Again? I didn’t know they were sniffing around before. Did you? Carlos, Mario?”
Sasha, happy to be ignored for once, watched Neal rub his face before answering. “They approached me about giving us protection. I convinced them the Factory didn’t need it.”
“Crap. When was this?” Carlos demanded.
The other men just glared.
“They cornered me alone when I went to apply for zoning. We played the shove-you game. The next time, a few weeks later, I went to get our booze license they changed tactics. Offered to have us work for them. My refusal was stronger.” Neal’s smile possessed a feral quality.
His men looked less pleased. Sasha could feel the waves of pissed-off wafting from the couch.
“I did mention we needed to look sharp while settling in,” Neal muttered defensively.
“Implying gang-bangers and not gangsters,” Paul countered.
TJ’s voice interrupted them. “Look at the monitor and see if we can get IDs.”
Neal turned his flatscreen around and Sasha leaned forward. The heavy face filled with malicious glee brought back the events in the alley. “That’s Petya. He seemed to be the leader.”
“And that’s one of the guys who approached me,” Neal added.
“I’ll try to dig up some intel,” the disembodied voice promised them.
Carlos turned to Neal. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
A stern look from Neal made the younger man squirm. Sasha winced in sympathy. Neal could sure look intimidating when he tried to.
Paul exhaled in annoyance. “You can’t decide what’s ‘need to know’ anymore. We’re a business and family now.”
Mario folded his huge arms over his chest. “Yeah, I have my guys and some gals pop out of the kitchen all the time to dump trash. I tell them need to go in pairs, but they forget. Kids.”
“Sorry, guys. But we were having such a hard time settling in. Didn’t want to add stuff.” Neal tilted his head toward the phone, his expression sharpening as he gazed at the others. “And they stayed away, not a peep, and we’ve been open for a while.”
Mario snorted. “I bet what got their attention again was that damn review. The critic practically drooled over us. And to think I was happy he liked my lasagna.”
“Yeah, if we tanked and made no profit they probably would’ve lost interest. Let us go belly up and not bothered with us,” Paul agreed.
“Now we know we got slack. What happened with Doc could’ve been any of our patrons. They should be under our protection while they’re with us. We’ll meet up in an hour to compare notes of measures we need. TJ, make a wish list.”
As the unseen Marine started making happy noises and going back and forth with Paul, Neal turned to Sasha. “Sorry to drag you into this.”
“No problem, I sort of started it. But I should get going.” Sasha stood. “I’ve got to run some errands and clean my apartment.”
“Sounds good. I’ll walk you down, I want to work out.”
“You have a gym nearby?”
Neal held the door for him and followed him out of the office. “No, I have some equipment outside in the lot. Free weights.”
“Sounds good.” Sasha didn’t remember seeing them in the earlier excitement. He also suspected Neal wanted to check out his car again. Maybe even guard it until the gate got fixed. He suppressed a smirk.
Sasha got the rest of his things and by the time he was all ready, Neal had changed into his workout clothes.
Tight pants and no shirt. Crap.
Neal grinned at him. “You ready?”
“For what?” Sasha shot back. “You look like a centerfold.”
Neal grinned, clearly flattered. “Maybe that’s the point.”
Maybe laundry could wait…
“Come on, Doc,” Neal said, and opened the door to the hallway. “I’ll walk you down.”
Sasha followed him. Steve and Carlos sat at a booth near the door, drinking iced tea.
“Leaving so soon?” Steve called.
“I have to run some errands,” Sasha told him. “You know how it is.”
He must be imagining the look of disappointment in the big man’s eyes. Steve had changed into a wine-red button-down shirt, open at the throat, that highlighted the smooth texture of his skin. The color of dark chocolate, its appearance made Sasha want to run his hands over the other man’s chest and…
Well. He looked down, face flushing. He turned away to find Neal watching him. He didn’t seem jealous; more amused.
“I’ll walk you to your truck. You have your keys, yeah?”
“Yeah.” Sasha cleared his throat. “Thanks.”
He didn’t regret leaving until he pulled out of the alley and headed toward his apartment. Neal watched him, standing by the broken gate, until he turned the truck onto the street and drove away.
Chapter Ten
Chicken Soup for the Heart
Sasha woke late on Saturday, but his body hurt less. His face still looked awful, the bruising faded to an ugly yellowish brown. His ribs seemed fine, unless he monkeyed with them, which he found out the hard way in the shower. Pressing on them brought tears to his eyes and he wanted to howl with frustration.
Doing laundry and cleaning grounded him. He’d been at it all day but the apartment sparkled, as much as the run-down place could sparkle. He sat on his bed and looked around, seeing Neal’s place in his mind.
His aunt’s number popped up on his mobile as it buzzed and he flipped it open. “Auntie.”
Aunt Z laughed. “You’re certainly in a good mood. How are things in Chicago?”
“Excellent.”
“Oh? Do tell…”
“You’ll tell all those other old ladies at the quilting circle and gossip about me.”
“You know that’s the highlight of the evening, Sasha.”
He chuckled. “I met someone.”
She waited. “That’s all?”
“His name’s Neal Harrison.” He lay on his back on the bed, his legs over the side, and told his aunt about Neal. It didn’t take long before he expanded and told her about Steve and Carlos too.
“That sounds like three someones, honey. How’d the interview go?”
“He’s got a Scarlet Macaw, Aunt Z. His name is Faust and he likes grapes. And me, I guess, he sat on my shoulder the whole time. I think Doctor Salisbury really liked me. I got an email from him the other day. Hang on… I’ll get it…” He read it to her.
“That’s really exciting, Sasha.” She hesitated. “I’m afraid that’s not the only reason for my call.”
A chill went through him and he sat down. “What’s wrong? Is Mom okay?”
“Well, she’s had another episode. Doctor Malden thinks it’s only a matter of time.”
“How bad is Mom? Really?”
She didn’t answer right away. “She doesn’t know what’s happening, honey. She’s not in any pain.”
His eyes filled with tears and he sat back in his chair. “But…”
“But it’s only a matter of time. She has good days and bad. Alzheimer’s is deceptive, and you don’t always have a lot of warning.”
“Should I visit again, or come back for good?”
“You were just here, honey. She’s back at Haven Home. I’ll let you know if it gets any worse. You deserve a chance to make a real go of it. When do you find out about the job?”
“Soon, he says.”
They hung up shortly after that, but Sasha didn’t really pay much attention. The rest of the afternoon passed in a daze until
the phone rang again.
“Doctor Soskoff,” he answered without looking.
“You’re always so formal on the phone.”
His heart flipped over. “Neal.”
“How are you?”
Gods. How was he? “Um…”
Neal paused. “Is this a bad time?”
Should he tell him? They only knew each other for a short time… But his gut said he was right about the man. Of course, his gut would say that…
“Doc?”
“Yeah, sorry. I got a bad phone call from home, actually. My mom’s in the hospital.”
“Jesus. Is she okay?”
“Not really, no. She’s got Alzheimer’s and had a setback.”
“I’m sorry.” Neal paused. “I’ll understand if the answer’s no, but I was calling to see if you wanted to do something tomorrow.”
Sasha sat on his bed. “No, I’m just not up for it. Thanks, though.”
“That’s okay. What about Monday?”
Sasha closed his eyes. He received an email from the Columbus Zoo and planned on driving down there. He couldn’t rely on Northwestern if he didn’t want to not go home. Of course, now he didn’t want to leave Chicago, either. “I’m free on Wednesday.”
There was a long moment of silence and Sasha held his breath.
“Wednesday for sure then.”
They spoke for a few more minutes before hanging up. The evening seemed to stretch out in front of him and Sasha almost changed his mind. Instead, he pulled the covers over himself and hid in dreamless sleep.
The meeting and trip had gone well, and it had been great to meet Jack Hanna, but, if hired, he would be the most junior vet on a staff of many. He almost wished they wouldn’t contact him back. Torn, he called the Factory as he pulled up in front of it.
“Hey, babe. Where you at?” Neal’s voice sounded warm and touchable.
“In front.”
“Pull around back. Steve’s down there working out, he’ll let you in.”
“Sounds good.”
He drove down the alley, feeling a chill as he passed the place he was attacked, and pulled into the fenced-off lot. Steve stood inside the open gate, shirtless. His dark skin shined with a light sweat and the bulge at his crotch stood out against the light grey workout pants.
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