by A. T Brennan
“Do you have any water?” I asked, trying not to stare at his chest.
He had several more tattoos on his pecs and sides, and both of his nipples were pierced. I’d never seen that before, not even on a chick, and I had to shake my head to stop myself from wondering how it would feel to run my tongue over the metal barbells.
“I have a tap and a glass.”
I handed him the pill bottle and went to get him some water. I waited as he took two of them, downed the water and then put the glass at his feet.
“Do you want me to call someone?” I asked as I sat on the bed with him, making sure to keep a few feet of space between us.
“No, I’ll be okay. I heal fast.”
I swept my gaze over his body, looking for more bruises instead of tattoos or piercings, and saw several dotting his torso. Thankfully none of them were as bad as the one on his side, but he was pretty banged up.
“Are you hurt anywhere else?” I asked, wishing there was something I could do for him.
“My pride is kinda shattered right now.” He smirked and ran his fingers over the bruise on his side. “There’s a few places they kicked that are covered, but they don’t feel bad.”
I leaned back so I could check out his back to make sure his spine wasn’t hurt, and that’s when I saw a bruise peeking out of the top of his jeans. I didn’t see the waistband of underwear, and I briefly wondered if he was going commando.
“Yeah, they literally kicked my ass.”
Blaze’s voice brought me back to reality and I pulled my gaze from his ass and looked into his eyes.
“I’m sorry that happened to you. You won’t reconsider going to the police?”
“No. It’s like I said, I don’t mix well with cops.”
“If you decide to change your mind, you can contact me. I’m a witness, and I can help you with the legal side of things.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out a business card.
“Thanks,” Blaze glanced down at the card and shook his head, “But there’s no way in hell I can afford your rates. Between the car and the suit, you’re way out of my league.”
“I wouldn’t charge you.”
“I’m not a charity case.”
“I know, but one of the great things about being a lawyer is being able to use my knowledge to help people. You’re not a charity case, Blaze. I’m just trying to help you.”
After a moment he nodded, giving me a small smile as he did.
“I should go.”
I was reluctant to leave, but there was no reason for me to stay. He was in his apartment, safe, and he had my card in case he needed legal help. I’d done all I could.
There was also the fact that just sitting next to him was doing things to my body no woman ever had, and he wasn’t even trying. It was confusing as fuck, and I needed to put some distance between us so I could figure out what the hell was going on with me.
“Yeah. Thanks for the help.”
“Something tells me you don’t accept help very often.”
“No.” He shook his head, his green eyes staring into mine. “I learned a long time ago that nothing is free, not even help.”
I didn’t know what he meant by that, but something told me it was a trauma that ran deep.
“I’m not that guy,” I said softly.
“What guy?”
“Whoever that guy is who hurt you and made you believe that people can’t be nice without having ulterior motives.”
Blaze kept staring at me, and I didn’t look away until he nodded. The move was small, barely perceptible, but it told me he at least believed I was different.
I had no idea why any of that was important to me, or why I cared that Blaze didn’t paint me with the same brush as he did the asshole who hurt him. The entire situation was fucked up. It was time to go.
“Call me if you need me.” I stood and awkwardly put out my hand. It didn’t seem like a handshake kind of moment, but I didn’t know how else to leave without making things completely impersonal.
“I will. Thank you, Galen.”
His handshake was firm and his skin was warm, and that damn current was back and lighting up my nerve endings as our skin touched. Even hearing him say my name made my cock twitch as it slid over his tongue like honey.
As soon as he let go of my hand I took a step back and nodded before heading out of the tiny apartment.
When I’d left my client’s office an hour ago I’d been tired and a little cranky. I’d planned on going home, pouring myself a scotch and then working on some open cases.
I’d never expected to come across an assault, and nothing could have prepared me for Blaze.
The man was an enigma. He tried to be strong and not accept help, even though there was no fucking way he would have made it home without someone to help him. He’d been seconds away from probable death, yet he refused to show any fear or pain.
Between his looks and his personality he was unlike anyone I’d ever met before, and fuck if I wasn’t completely intrigued by him.
I didn’t understand my physical reactions to him, but not even they could deter me from wanting to know more about him.
I shook my head as I hurried down the spindly stairs and headed to my car. I needed to get home and have that scotch, or three. The case files could wait until tomorrow.
Chapter Three
Blaze
“Son of a bitch,” I groaned as my eyes fluttered open.
The alarm on my phone was going off and I’d reached up to silence it while half asleep. That move had sent a wave of pain through my body that was so sharp it felt like a cinder block had been dropped on me.
It took me almost thirty seconds to get myself close enough to the phone to silence the alarm, and then a full minute to sit up.
My entire body hurt from my ankles to the tips of my fingers. I felt like death warmed over, but I had to get up.
Last night had been buckets of fucked up, and not just because I’d almost had my head stomped.
Getting jumped sucked, almost getting killed was sobering, but it was meeting Galen that had my head spinning.
Who would have thought my Good Samaritan would be the hottest man I’d ever seen, and he’d been nice.
I had no idea why he’d wanted to help me, why he’d insisted on taking care of me. Other than my makeshift family at the bar no one had ever shown me that kind of concern, and it was a little unnerving.
The weirdest part was how he hadn’t wanted anything in return, and he’d actually given me his card and offered his legal services for free. What the actual fuck? Nothing was free, but he was straight so I was guessing he didn’t want the type of repayment that was normally demanded from me.
Between the adrenaline from the attack wearing off just before we’d reached my apartment and the pain from getting my ass kicked, I was sure I’d read the situation wrong. I’d flirted and teased Galen because that’s what I always did, but there seemed to have been something there. Not flirtation, per se, but maybe some heat in some of the looks he’d given me. Or so I thought.
I shook my head and glanced down at my side. Just because I’d felt currents of electricity that had sent my pulse racing and my adrenaline pumping didn’t mean Galen had felt a damn thing. He was straight, for fuck’s sake. I was dreaming if I thought he saw me as anything other than a charity case he’d rescued.
“Motherfucker,” I gasped as I managed to stand up.
I didn’t think my ribs were broken, but by the size of the bruise I couldn’t rule out internal bleeding. Fucking perfect. This was exactly what I needed.
It took me way too long to hobble into my bathroom and down a couple more pills. I managed to brush my hair and teeth, and get my other business done, before I went to the tubs next to my bed to get some clothes. Getting dressed was a bit of a chore and I ended up putting a button-up shirt on so I didn’t have to navigate a t-shirt. By the time I was done getting ready for work I was cutting it close. I hoped there was no traffic on t
he way to the bar.
Somehow I managed to get down the stairs without falling on my face and into my rusted-out hatchback. It wasn’t much to look at but it worked, and that was all I could really ask for.
* * * * *
“What the fuck happened to you?” Layla, the day manager at the bar, asked as soon as she saw me hobble in. “Blaze?”
“I’m fine, Layla.” I stood up straighter and winced as pain shot through my side.
“Honey, you are not fine. Get your ass over here and tell me what happened.”
Layla might have only been about ten years older than me, but she mothered me like I was her child. At first I’d been put off with the concern and care she showed me, now I craved it. She was the closest thing I had to a mother, and she treated me better than my own ever had.
I made my way over to the bar and sat down on one of the stools. Layla pushed a glass of ice water toward me and then came around to sit on the stool next to me.
With her tall and rounded frame, flaming red hair and easy smile, Layla gave off the vibe of being jovial and easy going, but she could be a momma bear when it came to me and the other bartenders at The Den.
“I got my ass kicked last night.” I took a sip of the water and sighed. There was no point beating around the bush with Layla, she didn’t put up with my shit.
“What the hell? Who did this?”
I smirked as her eyes flashed and her hands balled into fists. It looked like she was about to jump up and hunt the fuckers down.
“I don’t know.” I sighed and turned to face her. “I was walking and three guys jumped me. They kicked the shit out of me and one was about to curb stomp me when some guy rushed over and scared them away.”
“Holy shit, Blaze.” Layla put her hand on my shoulder and looked into my eyes. “Honey, tell me the truth. Are you okay?”
“I’m...” the word fine died on my lips as I looked into Layla’s concerned eyes. I never could lie to her. I couldn’t admit that I wasn’t okay, so instead I shook my head.
“I know, honey.” Layla slid off the stool and stood beside me. All she had to do was give my shoulder a squeeze and I was melting into her hug and clinging to her with one arm.
“They almost fucking killed me,” I whispered against her ample chest as she held me close.
It was at that moment the reality of what had almost happened hit me and I couldn’t stop a few errant tears from sliding down my cheeks. If Galen hadn’t come by when he did. If he’d been delayed by even thirty seconds, I would be dead.
“Shhhhh,” Layla soothed as she rocked me gently. “It’s okay, hon.”
I didn’t cry for long, but I let her hold me until my side started to ache. She must have felt me shift because she pulled away and looked at me.
“I’m going to call Zander to cover your shift. I’ll take you to the hospital.”
“I’m fine—”
“You can keep saying that until you’re blue in the face and the cows come home, but it won’t change the fact that I’m taking you to the hospital to get you checked out. Now sit, drink and wait.”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Good.” She dropped a quick kiss on my temple and went around the bar to get her phone.
I was just reaching for my water when a glass of soda was put in front of me, and a few seconds later a bag of chips and a sandwich appeared next to the soda.
I looked up just as Layla started to talk to Zander on the phone and mouthed a quick thank you. She just smiled and patted my arm as she explained what was going on to Zander.
It was weird to think how two years ago I’d been offered a job and my entire life had changed.
The Den was a bar that catered to the LBGTQ crowd. It wasn’t in the gay village, or at least the single street that claimed to be the heart of the gay community, but it was known as a relaxed and safe place for everyone to enjoy. The bar itself had been around for about ten years, but I’d only heard of it when the owner, Evan Michaels, had come to Open Arms and offered me a job.
I’d ended up at the shelter three months before, strung out and coming down from what would turn out to be my last hit of heroin. They’d gotten me into a treatment program, which included counselling and methadone, and given me a safe place to stay while I worked through the withdrawal and subsequent cravings.
After staying clean for ninety days I was enrolled in their work placement program, and two days later Evan had come to the shelter to interview me for a job as a bartender.
I’d been honest with him and disclosed my struggles with alcohol and heroin, but he hadn’t seemed concerned. I was a walking train wreck, and I still have no idea what he’d seen in me. I’d been living on the streets for almost six years, had dropped out of school in the tenth grade and I was a junkie with a record. I wouldn’t have hired me, but Evan offered me the job that day.
It hadn’t been easy, getting into the routine of getting up, going to work and living a clean life, but after an adjustment period I’d realized it was exactly what I’d needed. Two years later I was still sober, I had a new family, had gotten my GED and I felt like I was doing something with my life. It wasn’t much, but it was a hell of a lot better than the fate that would have found me if I’d kept living the way I had been.
Layla might be the bar mom, but Evan was definitely the resident dad. He was in his early forties, although he refused to tell anyone exactly how old he was, and he took care of all of us.
All of the staff was gay, including Layla, and we’d all had a rough road getting to where we were. Out of everyone I was closest to Layla, but I’d take a bullet for every other guy on the staff, no hesitation.
We were family, we just weren’t blood.
I had just finished the sandwich when Zander came through the doors to the bar.
“Blaze?” He hurried over to me, a worried look on his face.
Zander was kind of like the big brother I’d never had. At six-foot-one with dark brown hair, steel gray eyes and the body of a swimmer, he was incredibly handsome and I’d lusted after him when I first started at the bar. After working with him for a few months my crush had faded, although I still thought he was hot as fuck.
“I’m okay, mostly,” I corrected.
“Were you mugged? Layla said some assholes jumped you.”
“I was half a block from Envy and they didn’t want money.”
A look of understanding flashed in Zander’s eyes, followed closely by rage. Zander had his own experiences with gay bashing, and I knew what happened to me would bring back memories he’d been trying to forget.
“I’m okay, really.” I touched his arm, hoping to bring him back to the conversation before he got lost in the past. “Layla’s going to take me to get checked out, but I’m fine.”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”
“Don’t do that shit.”
“What?”
“Take this on yourself. You didn’t even know that’s where I was going, how could you possibly know what would happen? They picked me because I was an easy target, but I’m okay.”
“Do you know who saved you?”
I felt my face flush and hoped he wouldn’t notice in the dim light. “Yeah, some lawyer guy. Galen Wells.”
“Wells...that name is familiar,” Zander said thoughtfully before looking back at me. “He stepped in?”
“Yeah. Stopped them before it could get really serious. He even drove me home.”
“At least someone was there, someone helped.”
“Zander.” He had that faraway look in his eyes again.
“Sorry.” He clapped me on the shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “I’m glad you’re okay, relatively speaking of course.”
I chuckled and felt a bloom of warmth pass through my chest.
My birth family might have abandoned me at fifteen, but I had a new family now, and it was more than I’d ever had before.
Chapter Four
Blaze
I hated hospitals.
After spending almost six hours in the emergency room with Layla, waiting to be seen by a doctor, I’d been about ready to get up and leave. When we’d finally been called into one of the treatment rooms I’d answered a bunch of questions, had some x-rays, and been told that my ribs were bruised. While the bruise itself was horrific to look at, it was just a bruise and there was no internal bleeding.
I’d accepted the prescription for Oxy and immediately handed the bottle over to Layla the moment we were alone so she could get rid of it for me. There was no way in hell I was testing my sobriety, it didn’t matter how much pain I was in.
The doctor wrapped my ribs and told me to take it easy for the next week. It would be about a month before the bruising was completely gone and I would be fully healed.
Layla had wanted me to come home with her so she could help me out, but with Cody already living in her two bedroom apartment, I didn’t want to be a bother.
I’d driven home and taken a nap. Four hours later Layla had been at my door with three days’ worth of prepared meals for me and the promise to bring more when I ran low.
Then I’d been left to my own devices with nothing to do but watch TV and play on my phone.
Taking a week off work would hit me hard. I made decent money at the bar, and the tips were really good over the weekends, but I didn’t get paid if I didn’t work. I had a little money saved up, but didn’t have that much to spare.
It felt like yet another cosmic fuck you, but considering I wasn’t dead or lying in a hospital bed in a coma, I knew things weren’t as bad as they could be. It sucked and I wouldn’t be forgetting what happened anytime soon, but it was over and I was going to be okay.
* * * * *
“It’s weird seeing you on that side of the bar,” Tristan teased as he poured me another soda.
“What can I say, I missed you.” I made exaggerated kissy faces at him and Tristan laughed.
“What, you didn’t miss me?” Rhys plopped down on the stool next to me and put his chin in his hands, giving me an almost cherubic smile.