by Nora Phoenix
It had truly been the only solution to bring Indy freedom. Even if the justice department had succeeded in getting a conviction for the top Fitzpatrick leaders—and that would have taken a year at least—Indy would’ve always had to look over his shoulder. He was truly free now. Plus, three of the lowest lowlifes were dead. Miles could not have a problem with that, as much as he maybe should.
Maybe it said a lot about his motivation, or lack thereof, for his job. He’d loved it at first, but the last few years had been tough. It was a somewhat sobering realization he’d made since staying in this house, how fucking lonely he’d been. He’d kept people at such arms’ length that he’d been starving for contact, both emotionally and physically. Being here, in this house, with all these men, it was like water for his barren soul. And fuck, the physical contact…people touching him, hugging him without caring that he’d get hard. It brought tears to his eyes at times.
It was the first time as long as he could remember that he’d felt truly accepted. Even with Casey, he’d always had to hold back. Here, he walked around with just PJ bottoms on, no double tight boxers, and no one gave a shit of they saw his pants tent. It was a freedom he’d never had.
And interestingly enough, he could already sense a difference in himself, even physically. At first, every casual touch had gotten him hard, desperate as he’d been for human contact. Now, it had become easier. He was still hard half the time, but not as quickly.
More important were the friendships and of course, Brad and Charlie. Miles had no fucking idea where the three of them were headed, but he wasn’t ready to walk away. And as soon as he was back on the job, he would have to walk away. Aside from the fact that the FBI might not tolerate a ménage relationship, Miles himself didn’t want it. If nothing else, his failed relationship with Casey had taught him that his job didn’t mesh with a relationship. Maybe it was time to start looking for something else.
So yeah, he did value the friendship with all of these men over doing his duty, especially when that duty would bring nothing good. The Fitzpatricks were dead, justice had been done, and those that remained in the organization would get their day in court. Case closed, as far as he was concerned. Maybe in a few years time, he could ask Josh and Connor how the fuck they had pulled it off.
But right this moment, he had two more pressing problems. Well, three actually. The most pressing one was that he needed to come, since the pressure in his balls had been building up to a damn uncomfortable level. Then there was Brad, who needed a good night’s sleep, a solid meal or two, and a massive orgasm. After that, they had to come up with a plan to keep Charlie safe from his ex, because the kid hadn’t left the house since he got here, and that couldn’t continue.
Miles nodded. Now that his priorities were sorted, he knew what to do.
13
Fuck, he was tired. As much as he enjoyed cuddling with Charlie after he’d just woken up from a nap, Brad’s head throbbed with a nasty headache brewing behind his eyes. He hadn’t slept well for weeks, but the last three nights had been particularly restless, courtesy of the two men he’d been sandwiched between.
He was so on high alert to make sure Charlie was okay, that he couldn’t fully surrender to sleep. And Miles’ presence was…unnerving, to say the least. He saw so much. Too much. It was only a matter of time until Miles figured it out, figured him out, and then he’d dump Brad for sure. Fuck, he wanted to run, wanted to preserve what little dignity he had left, but at the same time couldn’t drag himself away.
“Do you need anything?” Brad asked softly, kissing Charlie’s head that was resting on his shoulder.
“No, he doesn’t,” Miles said, jolting Brad. He hadn’t even heard him come into the room. “You, however, need a good meal, some decent sleep, and an orgasm. You look like shit.”
Brad almost laughed at the brutal honesty Miles threw at him. Almost, because he wouldn’t give in that easy. He turned his head to face Miles, who was watching him with more kindness than he’d expected considering his tone.
“I wasn’t asking you,” Brad pointed out. “I was talking to Charlie. He can damn well answer for himself.”
Charlie untangled himself from Brad’s arms, pushed himself up carefully. “Miles is right. You look pale and tired.”
His tone was much nicer than Miles, but that didn’t make the stab in Brad’s heart any less. “You’re choosing his side?” he asked, incredulity lacing his voice.
Hurt flashed over Charlie’s face. “No, you idiot. I’m choosing your side.”
Brad’s eyes darkened. When had Charlie ever taken a stand against him? Had the two of them been talking about him behind his back? Maybe they’d come to the conclusion that three was a crowd, that they really didn’t need nor want him. They’d be perfectly happy with the two of them, without his fucked-up problems.
“What are you, my dad? Fuck off. I can take care of myself,” he fired at Miles, his heart painfully contracting. He was losing them, even Charlie. God, what would he do now? He’d known he would fuck up. He always did.
“Fucking hell, Brad, we’re trying to take care of you! What the fuck is wrong with you that you won’t let us?”
Charlie’s eyes were full of hurt as he hurled the words at Brad, and he flinched. His shoulders sagged and he closed his eyes for a second. He was so tired. Exhausted, really. Fuck, his head hurt.
“Brad, you have five seconds to get off that bed and move your ass to the kitchen, where you will sit down and eat.”
Miles’ voice was deceptively calm, but Brad recognized the steel underneath. His eyes flew open. Miles meant business. What would he do if Brad refused? He wouldn’t really spank him, would he? There was no way the serious FBI agent was that kinky and stern. No, he was bluffing.
“Five…four…”
Brad found himself scrambling off the bed, angry with himself for responding to Miles’ tone. It reached somewhere deep inside him, made him want to obey as much as be even more of a brat, as Miles had called him.
Miles took his arm with enough force to make Brad wince. “Let’s go. Now.”
He let himself be dragged to the kitchen, where he discovered Blake and Aaron hanging out with Indy and Noah. Oh, hell no, he was not doing this in front of his brother.
Blake’s eyes fell on Miles’ hand and became ice daggers. “You wanna remove that hand from my brother’s arm,” he said coolly.
Pandemonium ensued as everyone started talking at once, Aaron saying something to Blake, and Indy asking Miles what he was doing, and Charlie telling Noah it was all right, and Max was barking his head off, which he never did, and Brad couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t stand it anymore.
“Shut up!” he screamed, his voice breaking with the force.
All that was left was his own ragged breath, as every face in the room turned to him in shock. Max whined, and came over to rub his head against Brad’s legs.
“Bradford, what the hell?” Blake snapped.
A sob worked its way up, escaping before he could force it back. “I’m leaving. I’m going home.”
He yanked his arm free with more ease than he’d expected, realized Miles’ hold had been more in his mind than in physical force.
“Brad…”
That was Charlie, his face pure shock. Brad swallowed. “You should be with Miles. He’s good for you. He’ll make you happy. I…I can’t, Charlie. I can’t do this.”
“Brad, talk to me…” Blake got up out of his chair, but Brad stepped back.
“No. These are your friends, Blake, not mine. I don’t belong here.”
He walked out before the dam burst, as he knew it would, his loyal Max on his heels—the one being in his life who would never choose someone else over him.
Five seconds after he walked in the front door of his own house, his hold on his emotions broke under the pressure. He let himself drop onto his bed and gave up, cuddling Max in his arms and crying hot tears into his fur.
* * *
&nb
sp; Miles’ first impulse was to stop Brad from leaving, but he held himself in check. He’d seen the pure terror on Brad’s face. The man had somehow reached a limit, and he needed to walk away. Didn’t mean Miles wouldn’t bring him back, kicking and screaming if he had to.
“What the fuck did you do to my brother?” Blake asked, stepping into his personal space. Behind Miles, Charlie whimpered in fear.
“Blake, sit down. You’re scaring Charlie,” Indy said, his voice calm and steady. He put a hand on Blake’s forearm. “Walk away if you have to, but you can’t do this.”
Blake was so close, Miles felt his breath on his face, before the man stepped back. Blake swallowed, turned to Charlie. “I’m sorry, love. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
He opened his arms and offered Charlie a hug, which he accepted after a slight hesitation.
Miles breathed out in relief. Phew, that was a close call. He would’ve needed Indy’s help to keep Blake at bay had the man decided to get physical, that much he knew. He was no match for a black belt, especially not in his current condition.
“I apologize,” Blake said, his voice stiff and formal as he faced Miles again. “I usually have a better grip on my temper, but I’m protective of my brother.”
Miles nodded. “Accepted. I understand, but I need you to know I wasn’t hurting him. Not like that, anyway.”
Charlie stepped forward until he stood beside Miles, their arms touching. “It’s true, Blake. We’re trying to take care of Brad, but he won’t let us.”
Blake sighed. “Yeah, he sucks at that. Always has, even as a kid. He’s always taking care of others, but he finds it hard to accept it when others do the same for him.”
“He doesn’t want to be a bother,” Charlie said, moving toward one of the chairs and sitting down.
Blake took his spot at the table again, but not after kissing Aaron on his head. As soon as he sat, Aaron reached for his hand. “I’ve told Brad multiple times he should see a shrink, but he refuses.”
Miles frowned. “Why would he need to see a shrink?”
“To talk about what happened with our parents. The abuse, my mom dying, I’m sure it’s what’s messing with Brad’s head. I did the best I could, but I don’t think it was enough.”
Miles’ head reeled. Abuse? What the hell was Blake talking about? His confusion must have shown, because Blake sighed. “He didn’t tell you, did he?” Blake turned to Charlie. “Did you know?”
“Not the whole story. Brad only talks when he’s drunk, so he’s shared tidbits, but never the whole story.”
Miles found a seat as well, his legs suddenly rubbery. “Look, you shouldn’t say anything if that means breaking his confidence. I didn’t know, but then again, there’s very little I do know about Brad, because he doesn’t talk to me.”
Blake’s eyes were sad. “It’s not a betrayal of his confidence. It’s what happened to us, to him. He doesn’t want to talk about it, and if you ask me, that’s the whole reason he’s struggling.”
“What can you tell us?” Charlie asked, seeking Miles’ hand. Miles loved that he spoke of “us”, that there still was an “us.” Somewhere, somehow, they had failed to make Brad safe and secure enough in their threesome, but they’d correct that. They belonged together, and they’d figure out how to fix them.
The room got quiet as Blake spoke, his voice filled with pain. “My dad was an abusive drunk, always has been as long as I can remember. He hit my mom, and us too, if he got really angry. Mostly her, but as the oldest two, me and Burke got slapped around every now and then as well. He mostly ignored Brad and my youngest brother Benjamin, but that was also because Benjamin was mentally handicapped and Brad was really adept at being invisible. He did anything to avoid getting my dad angry, including helping my mom in the house and taking care of Benjamin.”
Miles’ throat closed as he thought about the little boy Brad had been, always afraid he, too, would get beaten up.
“My mom left him once, took us with her. He found her, of course, and beat the shit out of her. We tried to step in, me and Burke. Man, we fought him as best as we could, but he was big and mean. Brad, he wanted to help, too, but I locked him and Benjamin in our room, told him to stay out of it. He may have gotten a smack to his head once or twice, but it wasn’t as bad as it was for me or Burke.”
Aaron had listened quietly this whole time, but the sadder Blake got, the more restless he became. Finally, he got up and squeezed himself on Blake’s lap. Blake’s arms came around him with a sigh of contentment. He clearly appreciated the comfort Aaron brought.
“My mom died of a heart attack a few weeks after my eighteenth birthday. We had no other family, so after much deliberating with family services, the judge granted me custody of Burke and Brad, with the provision that there was a supervising guardian from child protective services as well. Benjamin was placed with a foster family because of his special needs, and they ended up adopting him.”
Miles couldn’t believe what these brothers had endured. “How did Brad react to your mom’s death?” he asked.
Blake shook his head. “I fucked up there. Burke started acting out, so I focused on keeping him straight. Brad did what he’d done for years: make himself invisible. He took care of all of us: cooked, cleaned, did the laundry, you name it. And I was grateful, because I was working two jobs and trying to keep Burke in school. I was actually glad Brad was so helpful, did so well in school. He’s fucking brilliant in math, did you know?”
“Is he?” Miles asked, surprised.
“Yeah, off the charts brilliant. He could have gone to some expensive university, even had a partial scholarship, but he refused, went to a state school instead. I mean, he still got a degree, but he could have done so much more, except…”
Blake hesitated, and Miles and Charlie looked at each other.
“Except he didn’t think he was worth it,” Charlie said softly, voicing Miles’ thoughts exactly. “I, for one, am grateful he became a math teacher, because otherwise I would have never met him.”
“I know, love, and I’m glad he has you as a friend,” Blake said. “But you have to understand: he’s my regret. They say everyone has one big regret in life. Well, he’s mine. I fucked up with him, allowed him to stay invisible. I never saw him until it was too late, and now he’s all messed up because of it.”
Miles leaned back in his chair, ordering the information in his head. The dots connected, and suddenly it clicked. It was so crystal clear that he wondered why he hadn’t seen it before. The sarcasm, the self-defense, his need to please, his disrespectful behavior, the psychological erectile dysfunction, the interest in discipline—it all made sense.
There was a giant void in Brad’s life, a void that had never been filled. The question was whether Miles was willing and able to fulfill the role Brad needed.
Craved.
My God, Brad craved it, desperately. Everything had been there, but Miles simply hadn’t seen it because he’d never thought to ask about Brad’s parents. He’d never known the shit his man had been through—shit that had robbed him of his sense of worth, his sense of security, and his sense of being lovable.
He squeezed Charlie’s hand gently, looked at him. “Charlie, my love, are you up for a little road trip? We need to get Brad back, and it cannot wait till tomorrow.”
Charlie hesitated. “I can’t.”
Miles’ heart sank. “Why?” he asked, making sure his voice was kind.
Charlie’s hands clenched into fists, and his shoulders hunched. “Brad’s house, it’s the first place Zack will look for me.”
Miles had known Charlie was afraid of his ex, but he hadn’t fully realized to what degree until he saw the pure terror in his eyes just now. He cursed himself for allowing Charlie to cultivate his fear this long. They should have helped him sooner, encouraged him to get out of the house.
“You don’t think I’d ever let anything happen to you, do you?” he asked softly.
Charlie still refused to l
ook at him, instead kept focusing on his hands. “You don’t know what he’s capable of. He’s… He’s not like all of you. He has no honor, no moral compass like you all do. I’m scared for Brad, even now. If Zack is waiting for him when he gets home… He hated Brad. Truly, deeply hates him.”
“Brad can take care of himself,” Blake said in a placating tone.
Charlie’s head snapped up, his eyes spewing fire. “No, he can’t dammit. You always say that, but it’s not true. He can’t take care of himself. If he encounters Zack, he’ll open his sarcastic little mouth, antagonize him, and get the shit kicked out of him. And if he doesn’t… He’s by himself right now, convinced that nobody loves him and nobody wants him. How the hell will he survive this? He can’t take care of himself, Blake. He needs us, Miles and me. He needs us to take care of him.”
If ever there had been any doubt as to the depth of Charlie’s feelings, it was all gone now. This spunky pistol was head-over-heels for Brad, and it warmed Miles’ heart. “So come with me, Charlie,” he said. “Help me show him that we’re here for him, that we do want him.”
Charlie’s eye showed his internal battle. “I wish I—”
“We all need to go,” Noah interrupted him, the first time he had spoken since they’d walked into the kitchen. “If he feels like we are not his friends, like he’s not truly wanted and welcome here, we should all go. And nothing will happen when you’re with us, Charlie. Your ex may be a mean asshole, but he won’t be stupid enough to try anything with all of us there.”
Miles’ heart filled even more. He thanked whatever deity would listen for the day he met Indy, because that encounter had led him right here, to this amazing group of…family. That’s what they felt like, family.
Charlie’s face lost some of the tension. “Okay,” he said finally, squaring his shoulders. “But somebody better bring a gun, just in case.”
Miles grinned inwardly. Charlie was such a bossy little shit at times, and he loved it. Connor’s eyes gleamed, but he kept his face neutral otherwise. “I always carry, kid,” he said.