by Zach Collins
“Dude, I really don’t need story time, I need to find a fucking job, and you need to get help. Man, this is beyond crazy,” Trent said warily.
“Maybe I can help you with that, well, at the least the job part. As for the other, we will talk about that too, but you have to keep an open mind,” Ian laughed, and waited for his friend to nod in agreement before he continued, “Okay, I told you part of the shit that went down a few weeks ago. Let me tell you the rest. When I was at the Museum that night, something happened, something strange and fucking unbelievable. The coin everyone is accusing me of stealing was not an artifact. It was a transport device, used by people in different Stratums.”
“Ian, did they drug you or something?” Trent asked his best friend worriedly and looked into his eyes. “Cause I swear if they did, I will kick their ass and make them sorry for ever fucking with us. I think we need to call someone, and get him or her over here right now. We can have you away from these guys in a few minutes.”
Trent pulled his cell phone from his pocket and began to search the Internet with it to find what he was looking for. How in the hell did you search for ‘deprogrammers’? He just typed in what he thought would pull up the information as Ian pulled the phone from his hands.
He laughed and slapped his best friend on the back of the head. They had been together for so long that he forgot sometimes they were friends because he thought of Ian as family. His friend had the benefit of having a supportive family, while Trent didn’t. In fact, his family was a bunch of fucking lunatics and pricks. Trent had gone home with Ian on all breaks and holidays, just to avoid staying in the dorms by himself.
Trent had not told Ian the extent of his abuse as a child. It was easier to tell Ian that his family didn’t like gays and kicked him out when he came out to them. It was true, even if his father had always suspected. When Trent went to a gay pride parade, his father flipped. Trent knew he still bore the scars of that beating. Since that day, the beatings became more frequent. He could almost hear his father telling him as he whipped him that he was unnatural, a freak. Telling Trent all he had to do was accept that being gay was not an option, find a cute girl, fuck her, and then marry her. Then all would be right in the family.
His mother ignored it. When Trent had asked for her help, she smiled, told him to do what his father asked and it would be all right. Bullshit, he had tried, it was not all right, he chose a girl and tried to do what was asked of him, but it had been awkward. His brother told his father what the girl had said at school the next day. That had been the last straw. He refused to change what he was in order to please his parents. Therefore, he endured the beatings, but made sure his grades were exemplary, which paid off when he graduated and then received acceptance into a prestigious college. Fuck them, he borrowed and worked to be where he was today. Finding Ian and his parents had been a godsend. They gave him something he needed, support and acceptance.
Even though his friend’s parents loved Trent, there had been a time when they thought Ian and Trent were actually dating. Both of the men had laughed and set them straight. From their first meeting, it was as if they were long lost brothers. His parents accepted Trent and welcomed him into the fold of their family. He was surprised a little, since Ian’s father was in politics. It was bad enough Ian was gay, but to have his friend in the limelight also, had been unheard of.
Only the strongest men of character could withstand the backlash from having a gay son or daughter in the world of politics. Ian’s father and mother had supported Trent, just the same as they had done for their own children. For that, he was going to make sure Ian was taken care of.
Trent frowned at his friend and clenched his fists. Maybe if he knocked him out, he could make the call and escape through the window. The fire escape was right there. Trent was strong enough to make it down carrying his friend, which was one thing he knew for sure. His strength from working out would enable them to make a run for it.
“Bro, they didn’t drug me. I’m telling you the truth. Listen. There are seven different Stratums, ours, which they refer to as the Human Stratum, not too pressed for the imagination. Then there are the Wizards, Witches, and Warlocks Stratum, that is where Blake, my mate is from. He is the King of the Stratum, and I know it sounds crazy, but I will come back to this. I haven’t met Shifters yet, you know from the Shifter Stratum. Yes, I said Shifter, then there are the Elves, the Trolls, the Paladin, and the Fae,” Ian said slowly.
“Okay, I get it. Let’s call your parents and talk to them about this, I mean this is a big thing for you to be leaving for, what did you call it? Stratum. And mated to the King, well that is awesome,” Trent said easing toward the phone Ian set on the table. He had heard not to make sudden movements when talking to someone who had a psychotic breakdown, or was under mind control. His friend had, there was no other explanation. Trent looked into his friend’s eyes for any indication he had gone mad. There was none, only an amused gaze that was beginning to freak him out.
Shit, all this time he had been covering for his friend. Thinking he was just having fun with a new man. Really hoping his friend had found someone who he could spend the rest of his life. He trusted his friend’s call because Ian had never given him cause to think he was unstable. He knew this man and there was nothing he could not do. He was like Superman without the cape and he had told him that. Trent liked to think he was a lot like Ian.
He would make sure his friend had the best care. These men were obviously taking advantage of him. Well, that was fucking gonna stop. Trent was going to call Ian’s parents first, and then he would call the police to deal with these assholes. When Trent ran out of options, calling Ian’s parents was the only thing he could do.
“Trent, knock it off and listen. Blake is the King of the Trivet or Wizard Stratum, and he is a Wizard. I am trying to tell you this shit fast before Logan, Blake’s brother, has an aneurism. When I went to the Museum and grabbed ahold of the guy with the coin, we ended up in this other place. It looked a lot like New York but in a strange, freaky ass way. You will see, but listen first. The mate thing. I am Blake’s mate, which means I am the King’s Consort. I am heading up the Education Division there and I could really use your help. However, that will also be explained later. Mating, with Wizards is like crazy, they give you power, you also share their life span and everything. Some of the Stratums have been around long before this one. Humans are behind the power curve a little on some things.
“The man who was staring at you was Logan. He’s Blake’s brother, and the head of the Stratum’s security, a real big deal. I don’t know if he has a title, we can ask. Anyway, he’s your mate,” Ian said. “I need you to go to your apartment and pack some stuff. We really don’t have a lot of time for explanations. Nevertheless, there’s something going on. Someone has decided they are going to try to take over all the Stratums and it is a mess, once again something you have to hear about later, we just don’t have the time to fuck around here.”
Trent nodded as if he was listening to everything his friend was saying, which he was, just not believing any of it. Ian had seriously had a break from reality. He needed help and quick. He knew Ian’s father would make the arrangements quickly. Then Trent was going to wait to call the police because he was going to beat the shit out of the guys who did this.
He was not a small man, standing six foot three inches; he was huge to most people. Trent knew he could be intimidating if he wanted to, and he really wasn’t afraid to do it. His shoulders were broad and his thighs muscular from the exercises he did. Trent stayed fit and trim. He had a six-pack, which extremely impressed his boyfriends. When he played basketball or football, which he loved, he had no problem keeping up with the young bucks.
“Trent, I am fucking serious, knock it off. I can see how your brain is working. You think I am nuts and you are trying to think how you can get to the phone and call someone. Then you are going to try to kick Blake’s ass for giving me drugs or something,” Ian said dryly.<
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Trent paused and looked at his friend. He sounded sane when he said shit like this. Then Ian had to open his mouth again.
“This is fucking real. I can show you if you stop being a pain in my ass for more than thirty seconds,” Ian said.
“Really?” Trent said deciding to wait to defuse the situation, right, that is something he also read. Maybe if he calmed his friend down, and really talked to him, he would be able talk some reason into Ian. He did not want his parents to commit him, which would suck and not be helpful to his cause of proving his innocence. Although, a plea of insanity may work.
Ian sighed and put his head down, “How long have we been friends?”
“Fifteen years, give or take,” Trent said automatically.
“In all those years, have I ever, ever taken a drug?” Ian asked calmly.
“No, but you may not know they were doing it. Let’s just get your blood tested,” Trent argued.
“Man, you are my best friend, I have already told the parents, call them. I showed them. Now calm the fuck down and listen. Logan is hot, nice and the best part, Blake’s brother, which means you will live in the Castle with me. We can hang out and work together like we have been. Beer night, everything. Just please listen and go. I don’t want to leave you, and I think Logan would flip out. We were only given a short period of time to be here,” Ian said. He then whistled loudly and the large men unlocked the door somehow and entered.
Trent looked at them in surprise. He knew the door didn’t have a key because it was only able to lock from the inside. Trent’s eyes instantly shot to the man who was staring at him again. Damn, his eyes, they were fucking amazing. They were the funkiest shade of blue he had ever seen, almost purple. His thick, light brown or dark blond hair was cut into a short high and tight, which Trent did love. It made him seem as if he was in charge. He was sexy too.
Was he really thinking about one of the cult members as hot? Really, ‘cause it seemed like he possibly was being brainwashed right now. Shit, maybe they put something in his drink, or maybe they used hypnosis, thought Trent.
Trent turned and closed his eyes, refusing to make eye contact with them, as well as throwing the drink Ian gave him away.
Table of Contents
www.jkpublishingbooks.com
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Epilogue
Books Available by Zach Collins
Excerpt from Enough Time