All In (The Den Boys Book 1)

by A. T Brennan

  “Nope, barely remembered you even work here.” I punched him in the shoulder and Rhys reached over and messed up my hair in retaliation.

  “Fucker.” I jerked my head away and vainly tried to smooth the long strands back into place.

  I ignored both Tristan and Rhys as they made a few comments about me needing a mirror so I could touch up my makeup as I did my hair. I was used to their ribbing, and I fucking loved it.

  Tristan and Rhys were opposites, but they’d bonded almost instantly when Rhys had come to work at the bar six months ago. Tristan was an even six feet with shaggy, sandy brown hair, dark brown eyes and rugged good looks. He was an ex-marine and a gym rat with a six pack to show for it. Rhys was also six feet, but he was your classic All American boy with his styled blond hair, bright blue eyes, classic good looks and football player build.

  While Tristan was reserved and quiet, only opening up to people when he was comfortable with them, Rhys was outgoing and could talk to and charm anyone. They were an unlikely duo, but they were as close as brothers.

  “Come on now, don’t pick on the injured. That’s like kicking a puppy.”

  I rolled my eyes as Zander came over to join in the teasing.

  “Suit yourselves, assholes. You’ll get yours.”

  “I’m terrified.” Zander grinned.

  “You should be.”

  I saw Tristan open his mouth to say something but a customer at the other end of the bar caught his attention and he headed over.

  “You feeling okay to come back?” Zander asked after Rhys picked up a dish bucket and went to start gathering empty glasses.

  “I’m good. Still hurts but I’ll be able to work.” I nodded and drank down some of my soda.

  “At the hospital, did they give you anything?”

  I knew what he was asking and why, but a part of me instantly went on the defence. I’d been clean for two years, but once a junkie, always a junkie, and people would always look at me as the guy with the problem.

  “Layla took it. I haven’t taken anything stronger than ibuprofen.”

  “I’m sorry, Blaze. I shouldn’t have—”

  “It’s fine.” I cut him off with a wave of my hand. “I know you care.”

  “I do.”

  “What?”

  I could tell he had something more to say, and the fact that he was hesitating told me it was serious.

  “Why did you go to Envy that night?”

  I sighed and looked into my drink. “I was looking for a way to deal with something.” I glanced up at him and shook my head. “Not drugs...I just needed a distraction.”

  “What happened that day? You were off all night.”

  I traced my finger over the top of my glass for a moment. “I found out for sure my family has abandoned me.”

  “Blaze?” He leaned closer and put his hand on my arm.

  “I called my grandmother for her birthday. I was hoping that maybe my parents had changed their views. It’s been eight years and I thought maybe they’d missed me.”

  “What happened when you talked to her?”

  “She told me the family would welcome me back, as soon as I repented, went through another spiritual cleansing to rid myself of my ‘affliction’, and never mention anything homosexual again.” I put little air quotes over the last two words to show Zander they were her words and not mine.

  “Shit, I’m sorry.”

  “It’s the same song they sung when they kicked me out with only a bag of clothes and seventy-two dollars to live off of. Whatever.”

  “I had no idea.”

  “I shouldn’t have bothered. I just thought maybe...”

  “You could have come to me, to any of us.”

  “I know. I thought I could handle it but it just got to me. I hate how they still have power over me like that, you know?”

  “I know.” He patted my arm and then cupped my cheek to force me to look at him. “It’s their loss, Blaze. They’re the ones with the problem. Not you.”

  “Fuck ‘em all, right?”

  “Right.” He grinned and dropped his hand. “Fuck ‘em all.”

  * * * * *

  “I’ll meet you outside, okay?” I said as I headed toward the door to the bar.

  Zander nodded as he put the cash tray back in the register.

  Three weeks had passed since my near death stomping, and I was glad to be back in my old routine. My side was mostly healed, although it had been a crazy busy night so I’d overworked the tender muscles and knew I’d be stiff tomorrow.

  I’d walked to work since my car was making some less than awesome noises and taking longer and longer to turn over, and had planned on walking home. Zander had offered to drive me instead and I’d gladly accepted so I could go home and get some sleep.

  It was a nice night out and I didn’t feel like watching as Zander finished closing up, so I left the bar and leaned against the wall near the door.

  I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Galen.

  It was fucked up, but ever since the night he’d helped me, he’d been in my thoughts. I’d never had my body respond so strongly to someone, and I wondered if that was because I’d been hurt and vulnerable, or because of him. It was stupid to wonder. He was straight and had been nothing but a blip on the radar that was my life, but I couldn’t help it.

  I could almost feel a current on my skin as I remembered how it felt to have him wrap his strong arm around me and grip my hand in his. Every nerve ending in my body had lit up and I’d been sporting a crazy boner the entire time he’d been near me. My only saving grace had been the fact that my jeans had been tight so he wouldn’t have noticed unless he’d looked closely.

  I had a thing for beards, always had, but my preference was short and neat over bushy and big. I loved the feel of stubble on my cheek, and the red marks the friction left behind made me feel marked, like my lover had branded me.

  There was nothing sexier than a confident man dressed in a suit, and I loved the fantasy of getting to strip away the prim and proper layers to reveal an animal who would fuck me within an inch of my life, and let me do the same to him.

  On paper Galen was my perfect fantasy man, and he was a nice guy to boot. But, he was straight. So why the fuck couldn’t I forget about him?

  I didn’t lust after straight dudes, didn’t even have time for the bi-curious. If you liked dick then I didn’t give a fuck if you liked pussy too, but I refused to deal with the drama that came with closet cases or guys who were fighting their desires.

  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. There was a dull ache in my side so I lifted my arms up before putting my hands behind my head to stretch. I braced one foot on the wall and arched my back, sighing contentedly when several vertebrae popped and the muscles in my side stretched out.

  I was about to drop my arms when I heard a siren, and it was fucking close.

  Flashing lights suddenly appeared, penetrating my closed lids, and I turned my face from the assault of lights and sounds as a police car came to a screeching stop in front of me.

  “Hold it right there, son.”

  I froze as two cops climbed out of the car and started walking toward me, their hands hovering over their guns.

  I glanced around, desperately hoping there was someone else around that they could be looking at, but I was alone.

  “Hands where we can see them.”

  I pulled my hands from behind my head but kept them up near my head with my palms out and open.

  I fucking hated cops. I’d never had a good experience with one, and I had a feeling this encounter wouldn’t end with me walking away a free man.

  “Turn around, hands on the wall and legs apart.”

  I bit my lip to stop myself from saying something wildly inappropriate. It wasn’t my first time at the rodeo, I knew the drill.

  One of the cops stopped behind me and the other came into my line of sight.

  “Do you have anything on your person that can harm us?”
/>
  “No.”

  “Where is your ID?”

  “Back left pocket, in my wallet.”

  I felt a hand dig into my pocket as the cop behind me pulled out my wallet. He handed it to his partner and then kicked my legs further apart as he plucked my phone out of my other pocket.

  I tensed as he began running his hands over my body, searching me for god knows what.

  “Thaddeus Templeton.” The cop smirked when he read my ID.

  “Yes, Sir.” I bit my tongue and nodded as the cop behind me took extra time patting down my crotch and ass. I hated my name and wanted to change it, but life always got in the way and I’d never gotten around it.

  “Someone had a good night.” The cop opened the billfold of my wallet and counted through my cash. It had been a busy night and I’d made out like a bandit in tips. There was over two hundred dollars in there, all in twenties since Zander had needed smaller bills for the float. I didn’t see what my tips had to do with why I was getting frisked, not until the cop pulled out the two condoms and packs of lube I always kept on me.

  “Work supplies?” He smirked as he closed my wallet.

  “What? No—”

  The next thirty seconds happened in slow motion.

  The cop behind me grabbed my wrists and wrenched my arms behind my back. The cop beside me started reading me my rights as I was being cuffed, and at some point Zander came out of the bar. It wasn’t until I saw him heading toward us with rage in his eyes that I snapped out of my daze.

  “Zander, don’t!” I shouted, even as the cop with my wallet put his hand on his gun. “Don’t.”

  “What the hell are you arresting him for?” Zander ground out as he stopped, his hands balled into fists and his voice shaking.

  “Solicitation.”

  I closed my eyes as a rush of memories flowed through me, but I pushed them aside. I needed to make sure Zander stayed back and safe.

  “Zander, it’s fine. I’m fine.” I called out to him, hoping he’d listen. “It’s okay.”

  “Blaze—”

  “Ow!”

  The cop holding my cuffed hands yanked me toward the car and my side exploded in pain as he dug his elbow into my still tender side to try and move me faster.

  “He’s hurt, be careful with him!”

  “Zander, please,” I begged, even as I was being dragged to the cruiser. “Please, it’s okay.”

  I could see just how much effort it took for Zander to keep quiet and watch me get taken away, but I was glad he let it happen. The last thing he needed was to get tossed in the car with me. I had no idea what the fuck I was going to do, but I’d figure it out. I always did.

  Chapter Five

  Galen

  It was almost three o’clock in the morning and I was sitting at my desk staring at my open case files.

  I was tired, exhausted really, but insomnia was a bitch who refused to let me crash so it looked like I’d be pulling another all nighter. Thankfully it was the weekend so I’d be able to sleep in, if my internal clock let me.

  I glanced up at the small bar across from my desk and contemplated pouring myself another scotch. I’d only had two, and had finished the last one around midnight, but alcohol didn’t put me to sleep like some people. Sadly, it wasn’t a way to trick my body into letting me rest, it just made my mind spin.

  Fuck it, let it spin.

  I planted my hands on my desk to stand when my cell phone rang.

  Who the fuck was calling me this late?

  I grabbed my phone and looked at the number. I didn’t recognize it but could tell it was a municipal line.

  “Galen Wells,” I answered, insanely curious as to who would be on the other end of the line.

  “Um, hi, Galen. It’s Blaze.”

  “Blaze?”

  I almost dropped the phone. I’d recognized his deep, slightly throaty voice even before he’d said his name, and just hearing it sent a shiver down my spine.

  I’d spent the better part of the last three weeks trying to forget the enigmatic man.

  I was still confused as fuck and had no idea why, or how, he was affecting me so much, but I couldn’t shake him.

  I could still feel the heat from his skin as I’d helped him up the stairs, and I remembered exactly how his hard body had felt pressed up against mine. The most distracting thing about Blaze were his lips, and that was the part that was really messing with my head.

  I wasn’t a makeout kind of guy. I didn’t mind a little kissing to get the party started, but it wasn’t something I really enjoyed. Blaze’s lips looked so full and soft, and I imagined they’d be warm and strong. I hadn’t had the urge to kiss him while I’d been helping him, but I’d spent the entire drive home wondering how those lips would feel, and what he’d taste like.

  Three weeks later I was still wondering, and now he was calling me at three in the morning from a municipal building.

  “What’s going on?” I asked, shaking my thoughts and focusing on the fact that this most likely wasn’t a social call.

  “I’m sorry, I thought I’d get your voicemail and you’d get the message tomorrow.”

  “It’s fine. I was awake. Where are you?”

  “The police station.”

  “What happened?”

  The flare of fear that went through me was unexpected, but then my brain switched into lawyer mode and I shoved it aside to focus on the facts.

  “Cops picked me up in front of the bar I work at. Booked me for solicitation.”

  “What? On what grounds?”

  “No fucking clue. Do you think you could...I mean...”

  “Blaze?”

  I knew he was trying to ask for help, but I didn’t want to cut in and tell him I’d do everything I could for him. I had a feeling he didn’t ask for help very often, and the fact that he was asking meant he must trust me on some level.

  “I need help.”

  “I’ll be down there in less than an hour. Don’t say anything other than you want to talk to your lawyer and give them my name.”

  “Thank you, Galen.”

  “Of course. And Blaze?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m glad you called me. We’ll get through this.”

  “Thank you.”

  His voice was soft and I heard the call disconnect a second later.

  I ignored the flush that moved over my skin and stood up so I could change out of my athletic pants and into a suit. I had no idea what the hell was going on, but I didn’t care. Blaze needed my help and I was going to do everything in my power to help him out of this.

  * * * * *

  “So you’re telling me that the reason you approached my client is because he was a lone male standing near the doors to a known gay bar after hours?” I asked the cops in front of me, my voice cool and detached.

  I’d managed to get to the police station in forty-five minutes and had found a very distressed Blaze sitting in an interrogation room. I’d stopped myself from hugging him to try and soothe the pained look out of his eyes and had sat down next to him. It was time for my lawyer face, I’d make sure he was okay after we got out of there.

  “He was posing like he was ready to be mounted,” one of the cops said, not even bothering to hide his contempt.

  “So you’re saying he was standing there acting too gay for you?”

  “We found over two hundred dollars in twenties on him, and he has a record,” the second cop said.

  “And that’s why you detained my client? Because he had cash in his wallet and priors?” I leaned back and covertly placed my hand on Blaze’s thigh to try and calm him down. As soon as the cop had said he had priors he’d tensed and I was afraid he’d say something to incriminate himself.

  “Mr. Templeton had the cash on him because he works at the bar you arrested him in front of, and those were his tips for the night. There is no reason to address your offensive and downright illegal claim that his stance was provocative, and you have no proof that he wa
s doing anything other than waiting for his colleague to finish up inside the bar so they could go home.” I gave Blaze’s thigh another squeeze. “His prior records have no bearing on what transpired tonight, and I think we can all agree that the charges are unfounded.”

  I knew I had them. The cops had no choice but to cut Blaze loose, and I was still pissed they’d arrested him in the first place.

  When they didn’t say anything I smiled. “I assume we’re free to go?”

  The older of the cops nodded, his teeth clenching as he glared at both me and Blaze.

  I didn’t bother with niceties or manners as I stood up, nodding for Blaze to follow me.

  On our way out we picked up his personal effects, and he checked his phone as we left the station.

  I watched as he read a couple texts and then sent a few out. When he was done he shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at me with uncertain eyes.

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” I found myself reaching out to him so I could squeeze his shoulder. “Are you alright?”

  “Tired, pissed off. Embarrassed.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I got dragged away in handcuffs while my friend watched, all because I was stretching in front of a gay bar.” His words dripped with venom and acid and I nodded for him to follow me as I turned to head to my car. “I swear to fuck, if it’s not bashers then it’s the fucking cops hassling me just because I like to suck dick.”

  At the mention of him sucking dick my own reacted, and an image of Blaze on his knees in front of me, my cock in his mouth, his lips stretched over my length as he looked up at me flashed through my mind. I was so caught off guard by not only the mental image, but also the way my dick swelled and twitched in appreciation I almost tripped.

  “Not all cops are bad,” I pointed out diplomatically. “I work with a lot of law enforcement and there are plenty of LGBT people on the force.”

  “Maybe, but I never seem to run into them.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry you got dragged into this.”

  “I’m not. I’m glad you called me.”

  “You’re the only lawyer I know.” He smirked. “I guess I owe you two now.”