“Yeah, so cool I caused a split in my family,” he said with a snort. “You and your mom barely get along because she hates that you work here with me.”
“Mom handles her grief differently. I love my brother and I miss him every day. But I won’t let that stop me from loving another family member. It’d be different if you didn’t give a shit. But you’ve shown remorse. And you’ve changed for the better. I can’t tell her how to grieve her child. But she allows that grief to influence too much of her life — none of it in a positive way. And so do you.”
Jordan’s eyebrows shot up. “What?”
“Your guilt over Travis’s death affects nearly everything you do. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad that you’ve done so many good works for the community through the shop, and for the city as Blaze. I only wish your motivation for everything wasn’t solely based on guilt. But it is and because of that, it’s affecting your relationship with Danny. I can see it happening. Can’t you?”
Later that evening, Jordan sat on the couch, alone in his dark apartment. He pulled his computer onto his lap. After logging on, he went to his long-abandoned Facebook account. He hadn’t updated his page much after Travis’s death, so he didn’t have far to scroll to find pictures of them together.
Moving his finger over the mouse pad, Jordan double-clicked on a shot of them at one of his high school football games. He was in full team gear, minus the helmet. Travis stood next to him, his face serious as he looked at the camera. The kid had always tried to look cool and tough on the outside, but underneath he was a happy dork with a love for science. Looking at the date, Jordan was reminded that this picture was taken only a few weeks before that fateful night.
Travis had died because of him. Danny had almost died because of him. The fear that next time he wouldn’t be so lucky sat in his gut, as cold and hard as a block of frozen concrete.
Jordan closed the laptop with a snap and rose from the couch. Since he wasn’t going out tonight, he might as well get some sleep.
He walked through his dark apartment, passing through spills of moonlight on the way back to his bedroom. The bed was perfectly made. Empty. No smiling Danny curled beneath the covers waiting for him. Jordan stripped off his clothes, leaving them on the floor to get in bed. He missed Danny. Feared for him out there in the world where he couldn’t protect him.
Pulling the covers up to his waist, Jordan lay back on his pillow. As tense as he was, he figured he’d be up all night, staring at the ceiling. But he closed his eyes, and minutes later, he fell into a restless sleep.
Jordan!
No, not this again. Jordan’s sleeping mind realized he was back in his horrific nightmare. Knowing what was going to happen, he didn’t wait. He immediately began making his way to the disembodied voice. It was a struggle but he fought even harder. He was already half way across the rooftop by the time the light from the moon revealed Danny to him.
Jordan kept going, straining through the thick substance pulling at his legs, desperate to have a different outcome than in the previous dream. It wasn’t to be. A shadow became solid and shoved Danny. He fell. Jordan dove for his hand. Missed. Danny’s scream echoed as he disappeared from sight.
Jordan!
Jordan lunged out of his nightmare, immediately reaching for Danny. But the other side of the bed was cool, the pillow undented. Danny wasn’t there. He rolled over and looked at the clock. Two o’clock in the morning. He couldn’t call him at this hour and say, hey I had a bad dream. Just checking to be sure you’re alive.
With a frustrated sigh, Jordan sat up. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t exist with the constant worry for Danny’s safety burning under his skin. When would the next criminal pop out of the woodwork to harm his innocent lover? It was only a matter of time before more bottom feeders figured out Blaze and Danny were connected. Or Leon would blab to one of his associates his and Danny’s identities — if he hadn’t already. And they would use that knowledge — use Danny — to hurt him. Every day Danny remained associated with him was another day where his life was in danger.
Jordan knew what he had to do.
***
Danny walked into his bedroom and dropped his bag on the floor. It felt strange to be back at home, as if he’d been gone for a month rather than one week. He stood there for a moment, listening to the familiar sounds of his house. The fridge clicking on, the humidifier Scott always left running, the quiet hum of the air conditioner. He was lucky to be hearing them again. Danny laughed and shook off his maudlin moment. Geek Fest was in two weeks. He had so much to do to get ready and he needed to get to it.
By the next evening, his work room was in a state of controlled chaos but he felt confident he’d have everything together on time. He’d sent off the last designs to be printed. His cousin had agreed to come over and help him pack merch in exchange for art lessons. And he’d designed and ordered banners for his booth. He was exhausted, his brain mush, but it felt good to have everything nearly ready to go.
Finished working for the day, Danny went downstairs to get something to eat. The ringing doorbell stopped him before he made it into the kitchen. Changing course, he went out to answer it, smiling when he saw Blaze through the stained-glass panels. “Hey,” he said as he swung the door open.
“May I come in?”
Danny laughed. “So formal. Were you bitten by a mysterious man in a dark cape since I last saw you?” he teased as he stepped aside to let Jordan into the entryway. Jordan wasn’t one to laugh often but when he didn’t even smile Danny’s brow creased in a worried frown. “Is everything okay? Did something happen with Leon?”
“No. He’s still in specialty lock up awaiting trial.”
“Thank goodness.” He was glad to hear that Leon hadn’t escaped. But he didn’t relax. Jordan was clearly tense about something and his mood set off nervous flutters in Danny’s stomach. “Then what’s wrong?”
“We need to talk.”
Those four words and the sad, resigned look on Jordan’s face was all it took for Danny to know what was coming next. He went stiff, his fists clenching at his sides. “Don’t. Don’t you dare pull that self-sacrificing, it’s too dangerous for us to be together crap.”
“I almost got you killed Danny. Leon threw you off the fucking St. Louis Arch. If I hadn’t caught you-.” He stopped and looked away, a muscle flexing in his jaw.
Danny tugged on Jordan’s shirt, waiting until he looked down at him again. He noticed the tired lines around Jordan’s eyes. But it was the determination in the golden-brown depths that scared him. Jordan was determined to break up with him. Danny protested anyway. “But you did. I trusted you to keep me safe and you did.”
“You shouldn’t have been in that position in the first place. And you wouldn’t have been if I’d left you alone the way I was supposed to.”
“Jordan, please -.”
“I’m sorry, Danny. But I can’t put your life at risk like that again. I care about you too much to let that happen.”
Completely blindsided, Danny didn’t know what to say to stop this from happening. In shock, he stood as still as stone when Jordan leaned down and pressed a final, gentle kiss to his forehead. Then, without another word, he walked back out the front door, and out of Danny’s life.
Danny stared at the stained glass set into the door. The colors blurred together as tears welled up, only coming into focus again when the tears free spilled over his lashes.
Chapter Twenty-Six
B
laze crouched on a rooftop in the dark summer night, eyeing the street below. He was waiting for a gray van to pass by. Reports had it as the vehicle a pair of jewelry store thieves were using as their getaway car. As he waited, he thought of Danny. He’d done the right thing ending their relationship. The unselfish thing. Danny’s life was far more important than his selfish desire to be with him. Unfortunately, he’d had to hurt Danny emotionally in order to keep him physically safe.
Down the street, a fast-moving
vehicle came into view. It matched the description of the heist van. Blaze didn’t waste any time. He jumped down, landing on the hood of the vehicle, denting the metal beneath his boots. The driver swerved in surprise at his sudden appearance. But the guy was good, it only took a second for him to recover and swerve deliberately, trying to dislodge Blaze from his perch.
Blaze locked eyes with him. Palms placed flat against the hood, he sent a burst of electricity through it, frying every single wire and moving part on the engine. The van shut down dead, slamming to a stop in the middle of the street.
Blaze leaped backward off the incapacitated van, kinetic energy propelling him through the air. He landed on his feet, and waited for the punks to get out. They did. One had a machete. The other had a flamethrower. Blaze didn’t give a damn about either. He hit them both with a bolt of power that knocked them back on their asses. His guard up, Blaze carefully moved in closer, keeping an eye out for signs that either of the two men was conscious and still able to resist. His caution was warranted.
When he was in touching distance of the flamethrower wielding thief, the man sat up and pulled the trigger on his weapon. Blaze spun out of the way just in time, as hot air and even hotter fire whooshed by in the spot where he’d been a second before. That weapon was dangerous and could easily harm an innocent bystander, or start a fire in one of the surrounding buildings. He needed to take it out of commission immediately.
Moving quickly, he got behind the fire wielder. He struck out with a low snap kick, hitting the man behind his left knee. His leg buckled, and he started to fall to the side. Before he hit the ground, Blaze had the weapon in hand. Not wanting it to fall into anyone else’s possession while he was occupied, he slung the strap over his own shoulder to keep it close while he restrained the man. Then he took care of Mr. Machete.
The man turned out to be a coward, dropping his blade and shaking so hard Blaze actually thought the man was going to piss his pants in fear. Thankfully he didn’t, and Blaze didn’t have to worry about avoiding stepping in urine as he zip tied the man’s hands behind his back.
Hauling both men over to a street sign post, he whipped out another zip tie to loop it through their wrist restraints, and around the post. That would hold them until the police arrived. They’d be there soon; he could hear the sirens wailing in the distance.
Blaze should have taken off at that point, his part was done. But he stood there in the middle of the street. A wave of ennui washed over him as he stared at the restrained criminals. What was he doing? Why was he doing it? He remembered his cousin dying because he’d thought petty crime was fun. Yes. That’s why he did this. Atonement for his sins.
He didn’t deserve love. Not from anyone. And definitely not from Danny. Their relationship had been a sweet interlude that he’d been lucky enough to enjoy for a short time. But he didn’t deserve it. He never would. No matter how many jewel thieves or crime lords he took out, he would never deserve anyone as good and pure as Danny. Blaze had no right to imagine a life with him, to imagine collaring him as his submissive when their connection had nearly led to his brutal death. He’d been right the first night he’d ever laid eyes on Danny.
The little angel was not for him.
***
Danny sat hunched over in bed sketching, too morose to give a shit about his shitty posture. For days now, he’d drawn nothing but melancholy gray hearts crumbling into dust. It was depressing art that none of his fans would want to see. Not that it mattered since he didn’t post any of it anyway. He didn’t even save any of the sketches. He’d stirred enough to repost some old art so his social media feeds didn’t go dead but that was it. Yesterday morning, he’d received a terse text message from Jordan: Stop drawing me. That was fine with him. Right now, he didn’t care if he never drew another superhero in his life. Which sort of sucked since superhero fanart was his bread and butter.
But he couldn’t draw another hero, not after his own hero had pulled a villain move and broken his heart. Danny didn’t want to say or even think his name. It hurt too bad. He looked up at a quiet knock on his closed door. “Come in.”
The door opened slowly and Scott peeked his head around. “Hey. I wanted to check on you.”
Danny shrugged. “Status report: Shitty. Same as yesterday and the day before that.”
“I’m sorry.”
Another listless shrug. “It is what it is.”
Scott came further into the room. “Also, I finished your vest. I didn’t know if you still wanted it after... what happened, but either way the piece is yours.”
Danny reached up and took the proffered item of clothing. The leather was soft under his hands, the smell of it reminding him of Blaze. Tears sprung to his eyes. “Thanks,” he said as he tried not to cry. “I hope you don’t mind if I look at it later.”
“Not at all. In fact...” Scott took the vest back and rushed over to the closet to put it away. “There,” he said after he snapped the closet door closed. “Out of sight out of mind.” He stood there for a moment, looking unsure of himself. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
Danny appreciated his offer. And he was tired of sitting alone in his room. “Do we have any ice cream?”
Scott immediately brightened. “Yeah, we do. I’ll be right back.”
He rushed from the room and Danny got up to put his tablet away and turn off the playlist of heartbreak music he’d been listening to. A few minutes later, Scott returned, a bowl of vanilla ice cream in each hand, bottles of caramel sauce, chocolate syrup, napkins and a can of whipped cream squeezed beneath his arms, and a jar of sprinkles tucked under his chin. “Bedside ice cream parlor at your service.”
The sight of his tall, gorgeous, and ripped friend standing in the middle of his bedroom, looking like a puppy eager to please made Danny smile for what was probably the first time in days. “Thanks, Scott. This is perfect.”
They spread out their dessert bounty on Danny’s bed. Once they’d sprinkled and drizzled their favorite toppings over triple scoops of vanilla, Scott asked if he wanted to talk about the break up. Danny said no, so Scott changed the subject without missing a beat. But once he made it down to the last melting swirls at the bottom of his bowl, Danny changed his mind. He chose his words carefully, mindful of the fact that he couldn’t reveal Jordan’s secret identity.
“It hurts that he thought we should break up for my own good. Why does someone else get to decide what’s good for me?”
“I know it hurts to lose someone you cared about.”
Danny heard the hesitation in his friend’s voice. “But?”
Scott looked off to the side, chewing on his bottom lip for a long moment before he looked back at Danny and answered. “But maybe Blaze was right to break up with you.”
Danny’s mouth dropped open. He was so surprised, he didn’t even think to try and pretend Scott had it wrong. “How did you know?”
“The night you came home all dreamy eyed over a new guy you’d met, I knew there was no way Blaze bought you that club membership and then moved on and forgot about you. After that, it was pretty easy to figure out that Blaze and Jordan were the same guy once your life was in weekly peril. And I did see the pictures that stalker superfan posted. You drew you and Blaze. Not you and Jordan. I know you, Danny, and you’re too loyal to draw yourself sexing one man while dating another.”
“I guess when you add it all up it’s pretty obvious.”
“Yeah,” Scott said with a soft laugh. “Anyway, I know this guy looks hot in leather and it’s gotta be exciting dating a superhero but I don’t want my best friend dying because of some dude. There’s plenty of other leather daddies out there for you to fall for, Danny.”
“But I love him,” Danny said with fierce intensity. “Blaze, Jordan no matter which persona or which name I love him. I don’t want anyone else. I have to at least try to make it work instead of rolling over and giving up on us.”
Scott sighed. “Just be careful. Maybe take a self-def
ense class or something so you can Judo chop these motherfuckers who keep coming after you.”
Danny snorted a giggle. “I will.”
They talked for a while longer before Scott took the dishes and toppings back to the kitchen and went to bed. Danny went to the bathroom to wash his ice cream sticky hands and brush his teeth, then returned alone to his bedroom. He turned off the overhead light, leaving only the nightstand lamp on as he crawled into bed.
Danny rolled over to look at the closet door. The vest was behind it. The first fetish gear he would have worn. He remembered his excitement when he’d sketched out the design, dreaming of Jordan’s reaction to seeing him in the fetish wear. Now he never would because they were finished as a couple. The tears came again, hot, racing down his cheeks to soak his pillow before he could wipe them away.
Danny turned his face into the pillow to muffle his sobs. Not because he was embarrassed for Scott to hear him cry but because if he didn’t, he would scream and scream at the ache in his chest. The hurt was especially painful because he felt as if he’d been cut loose. Abandoned. Jordan hadn’t collared him but he’d wanted that and he’d thought Jordan did too. Even without the collar, he’d already started to feel as if he belonged to Jordan. But now he was alone. Heartbroken. And without his Dom.
***
Blaze settled high up in a tree across from Danny’s house. From here, he had a clear sightline into his former lover’s bedroom. He realized he was being a creeper staring into his window but he hadn’t been able to resist the pull drawing him to Danny’s home. He just wanted to be sure that he was okay. When he’d first arrived, Danny was being consoled by his friend and roommate. Now he was alone, curled up in bed, his shoulders shaking with sobs that Blaze couldn’t hear.
His heart ached watching his sweet Danny cry. He wanted to go to him, comfort him, tell him everything would be okay. But he couldn’t. He’d made the decision — the right decision — to walk away from him. Eventually, Danny would heal from their breakup and he would move on and find someone else to love. At that thought, Blaze gripped a thick tree branch so hard it snapped in two. With a silent curse, he let the severed piece drop to the ground.
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