by Cara Dee
Later, when he’d arrived at Darius’s room, he’d taken the slightest jab, a joke, like a personal attack. They’d fought. They definitely didn’t fuck. Well, not until just before Gray had to return to his own bed at daybreak.
Rum was what this soda needed.
Darius joined Madigan and Lincoln on the terrace in a sour mood and did his best to hide it.
“Good to see you again, man.” Lincoln kicked out an available chair. “How many questions can there be left to answer?”
Oh, they were done with that. “I’m just helping them map out the shit I discovered before the auction.” He took a seat and blew out a breath. Unwinding—he could do that. He could give it a try, at least. “They’re ready to send in teams to the locations we know of in Texas. More importantly, the company that sells yachts in Galveston. It’s been used as a front.” That had been Willow’s finding, of course. It was how she’d learned of the boats they used in Florida.
Madigan shook his head. “Is there any chance these sons of bitches will actually go down?”
“No,” Darius chuckled darkly. “Some middlemen, sure. Not the higher-ups, though.”
Lincoln muttered a curse and lit up a smoke.
Darius followed suit, and Madigan opened a cooler, and fuck yeah. There were beers, whiskey, and rum.
“You wanna make that soda drinkable, bartender?” Madigan asked with a smirk.
“You know it. Pour a double of rum in there.”
It was good shit too, top-shelf.
Madigan wasn’t done being an ass. “If you want it to taste like home, I can water it down first.”
Darius grinned. “Fuck you. My staff doesn’t water down the drinks.”
“You have. That one time.”
“Because you’d passed shit-faced by a mile, idiot,” Darius laughed. Ah, good times. Before Madigan got with Abel, he’d spent a lot of money drowning his sorrows in Darius’s bar. Come to think of it, he wasn’t sure Madigan had ever been there for the food. Asshole. Wait, maybe a couple times.
Eh, still an asshole.
Conversation lulled into a comfortable silence while they had a drink and enjoyed the last of the sun. In a few minutes, it would disappear behind the building, and the temperature would drop significantly.
Remembering he had to check the phone, Darius leaned forward a bit to keep it shielded by the table. The screen flashed with a photo of Gray and Isla, taken the night before she’d gone back home. The smile on Gray’s face filled Darius’s gut with nerves, and he took a deep breath.
He did find his knucklehead beautiful as all hell. Unlike what Gray seemed to believe, Darius didn’t say that shit in the heat of the moment. He felt it now too.
“Chloe mentioned there’s gonna be a press conference tomorrow,” Madigan said.
Darius nodded as he retrieved one of the adhesive trackers. “Aye, the police will handle that. It’ll be a quick briefing, mostly to ask for privacy for the survivors.” He removed the black silicone case from the phone and attached the tracker near the bottom. “Basically, they’ll go public with the events but none of the personal information. No pictures, no details.”
Lincoln hummed and put out his smoke. “How long before you all get to go home?”
“Technically, the boys can go home now. Some already have,” Darius answered. “I’ll probably be here another couple of weeks, and Gray and Cole volunteered to help identify as many as they could from the organization.” Charlie and, as far as Darius knew, the other boys also wanted to help, but they wanted to wait until they were home. “I think Gray looked through two hundred mug shots today alone.”
Darius wanted the impossible, for Gray’s family to realize what this really meant. That Gray had lived through the memories of the months he’d been held captive, only to find out if he remembered seeing any of the faces he’d been shown by agents. The stress and anxiety this put him through. How it wore him down.
“I can’t imagine. Poor kid.” Lincoln shook his head. “What happens when he goes home, though? I mean, I assume the work continues.”
“He’ll have a contact person,” Darius said. “Probably from the bureau in Seattle. The agents are working on that now—putting together local teams, I mean. He’ll have an agent assigned to him for a while.”
Madigan turned to Lincoln. “Ade was gonna call about a shrink, right?”
That was news.
Lincoln nodded and elaborated to Darius. “My wife runs a home for people escaping abuse. Will, a therapist on her staff, is gonna help Gray find a good head doctor.”
Darius’s mouth twitched. Head doctor was a personal favorite of his own when talking about therapists and the like. Always good to meet an ally.
“That’s good,” he said honestly. “How long are you staying?” He had to ask. He just had to.
“Just till tomorrow,” Madigan responded. Lincoln nodded. “Adeline gave us the business—Gray’s easily overwhelmed. I don’t have to tell you that.”
And so the appreciation for the extended family went up.
Nineteen
Darius was used to the bed shifting with Gray’s arrival around two in the morning.
Tonight was different.
It’d been a couple days since Madigan and the Hayes family went home, and Gray had slept more since then. He’d even come to Darius’s room in the middle of the day a couple times for a nap and a cuddle. But tonight, he evidently had other plans.
“What do you mean, go outside?” Darius grunted and stumbled out of bed, reaching for a pair of jeans. “Is something wrong?”
“We’ve put something together. Hurry.”
Christ. No more bullshit, please. Today had been a terrible day. Darius wanted to sleep with Gray in his arms, nothing else.
“Who’s we?” he muttered.
There was something off with Gray’s smile. It was almost hollow. “You’ll see. Come on.”
Worried and tired, Darius zipped up his jeans, put on a wife-beater, and grabbed his phone and wallet before following Gray out the door. The knucklehead was barefoot and in only a pair of sweats, so Darius didn’t bother with shoes. They couldn’t be going very far.
Having already annoyed Gray with his worries—and what the kid called fretting—Darius chose to side-eye him in silence on the way down in the elevator. Never before had Darius overanalyzed a person this much. He knew he was a pain in the ass, a hawk that was always watching, and he couldn’t help it. Gray was slowly nearing a breaking point.
Gray just didn’t know it yet.
Okay, fine, it was also possible Darius was projecting slightly.
Even so, he knew the signs. Restless sleep, fuse getting shorter, agitation, sadness…
He’d learned on the island that something was wrong with Gray when he was quiet for longer stretches at a time. When he became introspective and less physically expressive. It was coming back. Gray’s face was more difficult to read.
Today hadn’t helped for shit either. Darius reasoned with himself that it could just be a particularly hard night.
They walked through the lobby together in silence, past the valet desk, down a path lit up by spotlights in the ground that illuminated the palm trees nearby, and toward the beach.
Darius yawned and scratched at his chest. If they were going to the beach, it was gonna be a dark outing. They couldn’t even see the ocean.
“Over here.” Gray slipped his hand into Darius’s and veered to the right.
Some twenty feet later, a glowing light appeared in the darkness, and Gray opened the gate to the private beach.
Darius rubbed the last of the sleep from his eyes as his feet sank into the sand, and amusement trickled in. “What’s this?”
Gray quirked a grin and walked over to the fire pit where Cole, Nikolaj, Owen, Charlie, and Tai were gathered. “Have a drink with us, Dare.”
Hold the fucking—wait. Darius drew in a breath. It wasn’t the right time to point out they shouldn’t drink. Half of them were alrea
dy on anxiety meds, all of them took antibiotics, but…no. He could suck it up. A couple drinks wouldn’t kill them.
There was a bucket filled with ice and beer bottles. Two bottles of Jack Daniel’s and seven shot glasses.
Charlie had a blanket around him, and he looked like he wasn’t sure he wanted to be here. Darius couldn’t blame the poor kid. He chose to sit down next to him, partly to provide some safety.
“How you doin’, kiddo?” Darius nudged his shoulder into Charlie, who smiled cautiously.
“I promised myself not to go near sand ever again.”
Darius chuckled quietly. His heart ached for the boy. What Charlie had suffered through was inhumane and grisly, and his recovery would take years. “I’m proud of how you’ve handled this past week,” Darius murmured. Charlie looked up at him in surprise. “I mean it. You’ve been strong.”
Charlie looked down and fidgeted with his unopened beer. “I break down every day.”
“You also get back up, Charlie. That’s what matters. That’s how we move forward.”
Charlie whispered a thanks right before Gray plopped down on the other side of Darius and clanked two beer bottles together. Then he handed one of them to Darius.
“Today sucked,” he said. A murmur of agreement flowed around the fire.
No other words followed for a while, all of them wrapped up in the same memories from earlier.
Darius sobered and lowered his gaze. He didn’t wanna see the grief in their eyes. It threw logic out the window, and he took every loss as a personal failure. He’d struggled with the feeling ever since they’d left the field office and he’d gotten a quick look at two parents breaking down.
Linus’s parents.
He hadn’t seen Milo’s folks, though he knew they’d been there. It’d been the whole purpose of today. To identify the boys who hadn’t made it home. Linus, Milo, Jonas, Casper, Mike.
Jackie had been a case since the day he’d been taken, and now his case had been bumped up to a national priority. A token gesture to his parents who were crippled with devastation.
The cynical side of Darius knew it didn’t mean much. The case had changed hands, that was all.
“My twin brothers went to school with Milo,” Gray said softly. “I don’t have any memories of him that… I mean, I never knew what he was like as a person, so I asked my brothers.”
Darius twisted the cap off the beer and took a quick swig, wishing it was the bourbon.
“They said he was mostly quiet,” Gray went on. “People liked him, though. He was shy but funny. Gabriel said he was a tutor and some whiz in the chess club.”
Cole smiled sadly. “I’m not surprised. Sounds like him.”
The pressure in Darius’s chest returned with a vengeance while Niko and Tai passed around the shot glasses. And a minute or two later, they each had a full glass.
The amber liquid glowed from the fire and the dancing shadows.
“To Milo,” Charlie croaked.
Fuck, this was gonna kill Darius. He threw back the shot and forced down the flooding emotions. Guilt was a vicious wrecking ball, one he knew he shouldn’t stand in front of. He knew it, he knew it, yet…he couldn’t help it. Could he have done something to prevent the deaths of those boys?
Cole shared a memory about Linus, the freckled Midwestern kid who’d comforted Cole once with tales of escape and freedom.
As Darius closed his eyes, he saw the boy in the water, swimming for his life, choking, spluttering, begging. Darius flinched at the memory of the gun going off. One bullet, and Linus was gone.
Niko and Tai took turns sharing stories about Mike, Casper, and Jonas.
Darius swallowed another shot before he felt Gray’s finger wrapping around his own.
“Jonas was a mother to all of us.” Niko’s pale green eyes were glistening.
“To Jonas.” Gray held up a glass, and it trembled. At the sight of tears falling down Gray’s cheeks, Darius gave up the battle for one weak minute. He blinked hard and wiped his eyes.
“May they all have found peace.” Cole’s voice shook.
Nikolaj released a breath and averted his gaze. “And may we always remember them.”
Darius chased down the shot with half a beer and let the burn work its magic. The alcohol swam alongside memories of dead bodies, some faces distorted, some painfully vivid. Men, women, and children he’d seen die over the years, families he’d watched shatter right before his eyes, futures getting blown up, and hearts being crushed.
Before the world could turn even uglier, he squeezed Gray’s hand, reminding himself there were bright spots.
Six of them were gathered around this very fire.
“We wouldn’t be here without you, Darius,” Cole said. “You and your brother. We owe you everythin’.”
Gray ducked under Darius’s arm and snuck his arms around his middle. Darius pressed a kiss to the top of his head and took a breath in a feeble attempt to get his shit together.
“Just—never stop fighting,” he managed to say. “Any of you. You have everything to live for. It’s how we honor those who aren’t with us today.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Gray mumbled. “Then again, I’ll drink to anything right now.”
Darius snorted a chuckle, beyond grateful. Too many emotions and worries were surging, and a cut of the tension was exactly what he needed. Actually, it seemed welcome to the others too.
Charlie shuddered after emptying his last shot. “I really hate whiskey.”
“Blasphemy.” Darius put on a mask and winked.
“It’s blasphemy to dislike this crap?” Charlie scrunched his nose.
“No, it’s blasphemy to call Jack Daniel’s whiskey.”
Niko and Cole laughed, further relieving the tension.
Thanks to the alcohol, it didn’t take the boys too long to move on to lighter topics. Cole brought out his phone too, so they could listen to music. Good-natured ribbing, stories about their families, and even some funny memories from the island were shared over beers and enough shots that Darius was beginning to fret like a fucking mother. Again.
He’d have to make sure they all got back safe to their rooms when the evening was over.
A bet for ten bucks had four boys running toward the water for a midnight swim a while later. The first one back with wet hair and a fistful of sand was the winner, and it turned out to be Tai, followed closely by Niko and then Owen. Cole limped back and chanted curses, saying he’d cut his toe on a shell.
Darius shook his head, amused. It felt good, to be honest. Two weeks ago, they hadn’t been able to afford to be in pain. They’d suffered all types of abuse, fractured limbs, and been put through hell, and they’d barely been given time to bandage the wounds.
Now, Cole had cut his toe. It was almost funny.
“Want me to take a look at it?” Darius offered.
“No, I’ll have my mom fuss over me later,” he replied with a smirk. “Is it horrible to enjoy the pamperin’?”
“I’m soaking it up like whoa,” Gray said. “Although, it’s weird that Gabriel and Gideon won’t bitch at me. They’re like fucking angels all of a sudden.”
Because they’d been heartbroken for months. Darius had met the twins after Gray was taken, and he hadn’t seen a trace of how Gray had described them. Hellions, rebellious, loud, and competitive.
“Same here.” Niko smirked slightly. “Sasha’s usually riding my ass. Now he’s all protective and shit. He hasn’t been that way since I was like twelve.”
“Ohhh, this song!” Gray straightened instantly, and Darius grinned at him. “If it weren’t for Britney, Katy would be my girl because of Roar.”
“Let’s crank this shit up, then.” Cole turned up the volume to the max.
Owen and Tai chuckled, bobbing their heads to the beat.
Then the singing started…
Darius groaned a laugh and threw a glance over his shoulder. It was a miracle the hotel staff wasn’t running out here to
tell them to pipe down.
Gray and Cole—shit, even Niko—went bananas and sang along with the song. Some radio hit by Whatsherface; a couple of the waitresses at Darius’s restaurant liked the pop diva.
Cole threw his arm around Gray’s shoulders, both of them using their beer bottles as microphones, and they sang as if their lives depended on it.
Darius merely shook his head, smiling, and rested his forearms on his knees while the boys danced in the shadows of the flames and acted like complete clowns.
A pang of sadness welled up underneath the happiness, though. This was the last night he’d see the remaining boys in one place. Niko was leaving with his brother soon. Tai was flying home with his dad to Hawaii tomorrow. Owen was leaving sometime next week as well.
When the song was over, Gray collapsed next to Darius, panting and grinning. “Hey.” He swallowed and laughed. His eyes shone from the drinks he’d had. “Can I tell you a secret?”
“I’m all ears,” Darius chuckled.
Gray snickered and leaned in to whisper in his ear. “I hate the world.”
Darius’s smile fell, and he felt the blood leave his face. The words struck like a fist to the gut and a bitch slap all at once. “Sweetheart…”
Gray sat back and shrugged. The hollow smile from before was back. “It is what it is. What’s the point, you know? It’s all ugly.”
It was like pulling out the rug from underneath. Nausea churned in Darius’s stomach, and he set down his beer. Not him. Fuck, anyone but him. Gray couldn’t think that way.
Gray stared into the fire, composure lost. All that was left was bitter defeat. “The bad guys always win.” When he turned his head, Darius saw what he’d never wanted to see.
His knucklehead had lost his last shred of innocence and hope.
Gray became a champion at pretending. Over the next several days, he put on a good show for Chloe and his twin brothers. Aiden and Gage flew in for a weekend visit, and they invited Darius along for a family dinner.