A Worthy Man

by Jaime Reese

  He fought the swell of pain in his chest and the ache squeezing his heart. The blindsiding strength and power of a few vowels and consonants strung together always seemed far more potent than any physical blow he had sustained over the years. All the time spent in the yard, building his strength and size, hadn’t helped him fight the power of those words, and the blows and hardship he’d endured in his life hadn’t built up his tolerance to the fresh sting.

  He was tired. Tired of the pain, of the disappointment, tired of always fighting and never gaining enough traction to move forward.

  His eyes burned as the words replayed in his mind.

  You’re a murderer. You’re stupid. You’re worthless. You won’t be anything more.

  He screwed his eyes shut and made a wish, just as he had a million times before.

  I wish I were someone else…someone who matters.

  ∞ ♥ ∞

  Drayton pulled into the rear parking area of Halfway House faster than usual and launched from the car, beelining toward Julian standing by the back door entrance with a furrowed brow and crossed arms. He’d seen the police cars drive away when he pulled up around the corner and hadn’t been able to take a breath in the few seconds it took to drive around to the back and park. After everything that had happened and the numerous obstacles that always stood between them, he couldn’t fight the worry that tried to burrow its way into his heart that something had happened to Vann.

  “Julian?”

  “Shaw’s upstairs. His father decided to stop by for a visit.”

  Drayton stilled and slowly squared his shoulders. That son of a bitch always managed to land his strike, leaving a bruise that ran deeper than the purple stamps he would leave on Vann’s body. “How is he?”

  “He’s not talking.”

  Vann’s shutting down. He lowered his head and shoved his hands in his pockets. “You said he was upstairs.”

  “Yes.”

  “I know I’m supposed to stay in the common areas, but I need to see him.”

  Vann often used angry brush strokes in some drawing to unleash the lingering rage after a physical fight with his father. But there were other fights that left a deeper scar on Vann’s soul, and he’d withdraw, shut down, and distance himself from everyone, sometimes not uttering a word for days at a time.

  Drayton couldn’t let that happen.

  Julian handed him the signed approval for their weekend furlough. “I’m guessing that’s weighing on him. This was a house incident so the work program rules don’t apply here. We handle house issues differently. Make sure he knows his father coming here didn’t screw up your weekend together. That kid can’t catch a fucking break, and I’m worried he’s going to give up.” Julian crossed his arms again and resumed his position. “His room is the third one on the right. Just get through to him please. Aidan should be here in a few minutes, and I’ll have his ear for a while to see what we can do about Shaw’s old man. That bastard’s going to pay for coming into our house and trying to cancel out that kid’s progress.”

  Drayton strode past the worried faces in the living room to the stairwell, taking two steps at a time until he reached Vann’s room. He steeled himself and slowly pushed open the door, stilling at the sight of Vann, huddled in the corner on the floor, folded into himself, like the younger version of the man after another fight with his father—beaten down, not by fists but by the lethal blows of toxic words.

  “Vann?” Drayton stepped forward when met with silence, taking a seat at his side on the floor. Vann had different degrees of quiet as he processed his thoughts. But too much thought after any interaction with his father never boded well and often let the poison spread through his system.

  There was a steady strength about Vann. A steady energy that radiated from him, enough to power a small village. But there was something fragile he kept buried deep inside and guarded from others. Something that always forced Drayton to hold him closer, kiss him with more desire or tenderness, and envelop him with more love than he could possibly handle.

  He snaked his arm around Vann’s shoulders and pulled him close. He pressed his lips to Vann’s forehead when Vann finally turned toward him and rested his head on Drayton’s shoulder.

  “Don’t listen to him. You know he’s an asshole and deliberately sets out to hurt you.”

  Vann gripped the front of Drayton’s shirt in his fist and tugged him closer, pushing his nose into the crook of Drayton’s neck.

  “You matter,” Drayton whispered, brushing his fingers against Vann’s arm.

  Vann inched back and lowered his brow, but still remained silent.

  “I remember being out by the lake one day. I wasn’t in our usual spot under the tree, so you didn’t see me. I was sitting on one of the rocks by the water’s edge, off to the side. I heard you coming, stomping in, mad at the world, cursing up a storm with your sketchbook in your hand. You sat down by the tree and yanked open your book and started chanting, ‘I do fucking matter.’ You just kept saying that, over and over again.”

  He pulled Vann close and held him tight in his arms, sighing when Vann eased into the embrace. “You matter, Vann. If you didn’t, I wouldn’t be here right now, freaking out, trying to sound as if I’ve got it all together when I’m really dying inside seeing you hurting like this. And Julian’s so pissed off downstairs he’s going to talk to Aidan about your father. Ryan is pacing the living room, and on the corner of the couch, a serious Matt is comforting Ben who’s holding some really fucked-up stuffed animal. If you didn’t matter, would everyone worry about you?”

  “What he said…it wasn’t a lie,” Vann finally said, the pain obvious in the crack in his voice.

  “He might have said one thing with a shadow of truth, but I’m certain he twisted it and threw in lies and hate hoping they’d stick.”

  “He said I was a murderer. He said I killed my mom. I…always wondered if that’s why he hated me so much.”

  Drayton ran his fingertips up and down Vann’s muscled arm, wishing he could erase the pain in his voice. “You never told me that before.”

  “I’m a thief too. I stole her name. Maybe I don’t deserve to have it.”

  “You’re not a thief.”

  “I stole that bread.”

  “You were going to put it back.”

  “Doesn’t matter. It’s on paper that I stole it, and that’s what people will always know. That’s what they’ll always see. A fucking killer and a thief.” Vann untangled himself from the embrace and crossed his arms, a deep frown leaving a crease in his forehead. He quieted again, the frown fading then reappearing and his eyebrows twitched as if a battle raged in his mind. Drayton knew him well enough to grant him the space he needed to work out the different scenarios in his head, but he also knew it was a slippery slope when thoughts of Vann’s father were involved.

  Drayton’s breath hitched when Vann finally made eye contact, his eyes haunted and full of so much pain. He didn’t know what to do other than wrap his arms tightly around Vann, hoping to offer some of his own strength and resilience. “We’re a day away from having our weekend. Just you and me. And we’re going to have a long talk about a few things.”

  “I’m starting to lose hope we’re ever going to get our weekend.” Vann blew out a heavy breath and pressed closer to Drayton. “I’m going to die a horny man.”

  A smiled tugged at the corner of Drayton’s lips. His Vann was making an appearance. “I’ve got the signed form in my pocket. So if they cancel now, they’re going to have to fight off both of our pissed off, horny asses.”

  “This nice long talk you want to have. What did I do?”

  “Nothing. Just a few things we should have talked about when you got out, but I didn’t want you to have to deal with too much while trying to adjust.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are…we okay?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is this the part where you tell me you gave birth to our love ch
ild and have been keeping that a secret?”

  Drayton chuckled. “No.”

  Silence surrounded them as they held each other. He hated the insecurity and pain Vann’s father always brought into their world. He brushed his fingers along Vann’s arm and up his back. He closed his eyes as he pushed his nose into Vann’s hair, pressing his lips against him as he inhaled. Not so much to kiss him, but craving the contact, the closeness, hoping to telegraph the love vibrating in his body for the man in his arms.

  Vann sighed. “He hates me, Dray.” He tilted his head toward Drayton, but avoided eye contact. “He hates you too.”

  Drayton slid his hand into Vann’s, his pulse spiking when Vann clasped their hands tighter. He hated Vann’s father—hated the hurt and lingering pain he always left in his wake and the sting of his words that always left their mark on Vann’s soul. It was as if that monster took pleasure in jabbing the knife and turning it until he was certain he’d left his mark. He hated feeling powerless. He hated the agony vibrating off Vann and not being able to heal his pain. “Do you care what he thinks?”

  “Aren’t we supposed to care what our parents think?”

  “Only if our parents aren’t deliberately trying to break us.”

  Vann quieted again in his usual introspective way.

  “Even if you don’t believe you matter to anyone else, you know you matter to me.”

  Vann stroked his thumb along Drayton’s finger. “We’ve got a weekend coming up and you’re horny. So you’re dishing out extra special words.”

  “Are they going to get me laid this weekend?” Drayton chuckled when Vann pivoted his head toward him and arched an eyebrow. There’s my Vann.

  “I don’t think there’s anything you could say that would kill this hard-on I’ve had for you. It’s over ten years strong. That’s some potent shit right there. I don’t think you’ll be able to walk when I’m done with you.”

  “I do love a challenge.” Drayton knew the younger version of Vann always coped by deflecting when the pain was almost too much to bear. He’d play along if that was what was needed to get through to him.

  Vann grew silent again, rubbing his thumb along Drayton’s hand. “I’m tired of life kicking my ass all the time.”

  “Then maybe it’s time you kicked back.”

  “Um, I’m pretty sure that’s the kind of shit that would land me back in that hell.” He patted their clasped hands with his free one. “You’re supposed to be the smart one in this relationship.”

  Drayton chuckled, thankful the teasing side of Vann was still present. “What I mean is…don’t let this shit hit its mark. You’re not this tough guy everyone thinks you are.”

  “You’re supposed to tell me how badass I am and how you’ve been fantasizing about me every night.”

  Drayton threw his head back and laughed.

  “I missed hearing your laugh all those years,” Vann whispered.

  He sighed as he tilted his head toward Vann. “I need you to listen to me. Okay?”

  Vann nodded, staring at their clasped hands.

  “You’ve got a good heart, and I’ve learned that’s both a strength and a weakness. It’s the reason you are the most caring man I know, but also the reason you feel this pain so much.”

  “You’re getting better at this whole reading people thing.” Vann tilted his face toward him, his eyes pleading as if making an effort to absorb his message. “I’m not the same guy I used to be.”

  “You’re still my Vann.” Drayton reached out, placing his palm against Vann’s chest. “In here.”

  “I feel as if I take one step forward then get kicked ten steps backward.” Vann softly thumped the back of his head against the wall, another tic that seemed to linger after all these years.

  “You’re a fighter.”

  “That’s what Four Finger Fred said.”

  “Who?”

  “Never mind,” Vann mumbled.

  “You’re not a quitter, so don’t you dare start now. You always find a way to make things work.” Drayton quieted, hoping to convey every ounce of love he felt for the man staring back at him. “That relentless fighter, he’s the guy I fell in love with when I was a kid and he’s the guy who had the strength to pull through the last ten years. And he’s the guy staring back at me right now. Who I love. Back then, now, and always.”

  “You’re a romantic fucker,” he said with a weak chuckle. Vann ghosted his fingers along Drayton’s jaw, his focus following his fingers as they traveled down his neck. Drayton’s chest tightened when Vann looked up and gave him a lopsided grin—one that bore a hint of youthful innocence Drayton hadn’t seen in so long. “I’m supposed to be the strong one, standing guard while you change the world. Now…I just feel so fucking lost.”

  Drayton leaned in and pressed a kiss to Vann’s lips. “You and me, we’re a team. Don’t ever forget that. I’ll stand guard for you until you find your footing again.”

  Vann wrapped his arms around Drayton’s shoulders and held him close. “Thank you.”

  He slid his arms around Vann and sighed. He stroked the back of Vann’s hair and hoped his message had been received, and that his words had enough power to cast out the evil demons trying to imprison Vann’s spirit.

  Drayton pressed his hand on the panel then entered the passcode on the keypad, impatiently waiting for the green light to appear, granting them access to his private elevator. Finally, the doors slid open and they entered.

  “So this elevator opens right into your place?” Vann asked.

  He nodded. “To the foyer of the penthouse.”

  “So it’s like having a key to your house. Well...” Vann chewed his lip as he switched his weight from foot to foot, appearing as anxious as Drayton was about their weekend together. “I guess they’d need the handprint thing and code. How do you let guests up here?”

  “I don’t. No one comes over.”

  “Ever?”

  Drayton shook his head. “If anyone has any business with me, I’ll meet them at my office or theirs. I have a separate entrance for deliveries and such, but it’s through the main entrance of the building and they can’t come up unless I grant them access from upstairs. I’ll set you up in the system this weekend so you can get in when I’m not here.”

  Vann smiled, almost smugly. “So I’m your first guest?”

  “You’re my only guest.” He held Vann’s stare, hoping to deliver the message loud and clear: you and only you.

  Vann slowly straightened.

  Message received.

  Drayton’s heart pounded as he reached for his phone and swiped his finger across the screen. He launched the app for his home and immediately set the program to close the blinds and turn off all the lights. Knowing Vann, the moment he set foot inside the penthouse would equate to a bucket of ice water on this fire sparking between them. There was no chance in hell Drayton would risk anything prolonging this torture another day. He needed Vann, his touch, the weight of him against his body, and the feel of him inside him.

  “Tell me you’re not working, please? I was hoping I would be a worthy distraction this weekend.”

  Drayton glanced over to him. “You’re a very worthy distraction.”

  Vann smiled, something between smug and relief. “It’s a good thing this elevator is fast as hell. Sixty-three floors. That’s…disturbing. And really high.”

  “Grants one hell of a view. Makes it all worthwhile.” Drayton shoved the phone into his jacket and leaned against the elevator wall.

  “View’s just fine from right here.” Vann’s eyes slowly swept Drayton’s body until their gazes locked, the heat and hunger burned in Vann’s stare as his tongue slowly rolled over his bottom lip.

  Drayton’s heart hammered against his chest. He’d missed that. Even when they were younger and exploring, Vann’s appetite for their time together was rarely sated. He remembered each desperate and tender caress. Sometimes, their kisses were slow and gentle. Other times, their joinings were rou
gh and demanding with a welcome bite of pain. On those nights, they’d sneak out of Drayton’s bedroom and go to their secret spot by the lake just outside the golf course, knowing damn well neither could silence the moans that would echo from each of them. The moonlight would offer a hint of light and the pine trees offered enough thickness to muffle their moans of pleasure.

  Regardless of how they came together, Drayton never questioned the undercurrent of love and need. Vann spoke with his eyes, body, and gestures far more than he did with his words. His unwavering love was tangible and always present. Hard and soft, just like the man who invaded every waking second of his thoughts. He bit his lip to hide a smile, wondering how their night would be.

  “I can’t promise I’ll be nice. I’m so fucking horny right now I could split open the elevator doors with my rock-hard dick.”

  Drayton chuckled. Guess that answers that question. The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. Relief poured through Drayton’s body at the darkness inside. He turned around to face Vann, and the breath whooshed out of his lungs when Vann yanked him by the lapels and latched onto his lips, pushing him backward into the penthouse.

  A second later, the elevator doors slid shut and Vann stumbled in the darkness, the weight of his body pushing Drayton into the wall. “Shit. Sorry. It’s dark in here. I can’t see shit.”

  “Just feel.” Drayton ran his hand down Vann’s chest and pulled his T-shirt up and over his head. “Close your eyes. I’ll guide you to the bedroom.” He stripped out of his suit, leaving a trail of clothing as he led Vann through the darkness. They finally arrived to the bedroom, and he immediately turned, feeling his way to undo the button of Vann’s jeans.

  “Dray, this is kinky shit. Last time I checked, you weren’t a bat.”

  “I’m not a bat. I’m horny. Stop talking and start fucking.” He hurriedly undid the button of his suit pants and stripped away the last of his clothing. He grabbed Vann by the open waistband of his jeans and guided them to the foot of the bed, stopping when the mattress bumped the back of his legs.

  Vann laughed and slapped a few packets into Drayton’s palm. “Keeper of darkness, you’re responsible for the rest of these lube packs ’cause I sure as hell won’t find them.”