Heaven Sent 3: Hell

by Jet Mykles

  Brent sighed. He closed burning eyes and felt the tears start to fall down his cheeks. “He said he loved me.”

  “And?”

  “And I didn’t say it back.”

  “Why not?”

  “Why not?”

  “Yeah, why not? You do love him, don’t you?”

  “Why would you say that?”

  Luc snorted. “Christ, is that what this is about?”

  “What?”

  “How can you say that you’re not in love with Hell?”

  “Because I’m not in love with Hell.” See? Not hard to say at all. It’s true, isn’t it?

  “Delusional much?”

  “Fuck you.”

  “No, fuck you. God, you’re such a fucking moron sometimes.”

  “Hey!”

  “No, I mean it. You’ve been happier with Hell than you’ve been with anyone else I’ve ever seen you with, and you go and mess it up by overthinking it.”

  “It’s better this way.”

  “Why?”

  “He was going to get tired of me sooner or later.”

  “Oh, for ... Have you talked to him?”

  “Not since he left.”

  “You should call him. Brent?”

  A lump in Brent’s throat kept him silent. He swallowed repeatedly, but the effort to keep the crying quiet so Luc didn’t hear was all he could handle.

  “Gretchen called me last night after she couldn’t get you. She said Hell called her and made some noises about leaving the band.”

  Brent winced. He’d wondered when and if that might happen. He knew he shouldn’t have started anything with Hell. Look where the relationship had brought them!

  “She said he didn’t give any real reasons why, just that we might not want him anymore. She called you and didn’t get an answer.”

  Brent took a deep breath, managing to clear his throat. “I had my phone off.”

  “Hiding?”

  “Fuck you.” His voice cracked.

  Luc sighed. “Okay. So what do we do? Can you and Hell work this out?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t talked to him.”

  “When are you going to?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “If it was just your love life, I’d stay out of it --”

  Brent snorted.

  “Okay, maybe not. But this concerns the band. I don’t think any of us wants to lose what Hell’s added.”

  “No.”

  “So you and Hell have to work this out.”

  “I know.”

  “You’ll call him?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What’ll you say?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You should tell him that you’re a bonehead and that you love him and hope he’ll take your sorry ass back.”

  “Gee, thanks, buddy.”

  “I’m the only one who’d tell you straight, and you know it.”

  “I’m not in love with him.”

  “You are.”

  I am. “I’ll get over it.”

  “Christ! What for?”

  There wasn’t much of a conversation after that. Brent clammed up, shocked and scared by his own internal admission. Luc gave up and, after another order to call Hell, hung up on him.

  He loved the imp. He tried the thought on, poked at it from a few different angles, and kept coming to the same conclusion. Somewhere, although he’d tried to avoid it and just remain casual, he’d fallen for the imp. It made sense if he let himself think about it. Except for Hell’s insistence that he was hung up on Luc, there wasn’t much Brent didn’t like about him. But love was impossible. Even if Brent came out with it and admitted it, it was doomed to failure. All of his few serious relationships had ended badly, and he just couldn’t chance that with Hell.

  Of course, with how he’d handled things so far, he was about to get the same result.

  Damn!

  He called Hell.

  “Hello.”

  Brent hesitated, surprised both to hear the imp’s voice and to feel the surge of warmth that spread throughout his chest at the sound. “Hey.”

  Silence. Hell waited.

  “I, uh ...” He sighed, scratching his head. Think about the band. “You’re not leaving Heaven Sent, are you?”

  Pause. “I’d rather not.”

  “Well, you shouldn’t. You’re one of us now, and we, uh, that is the band ... God. Hell, we shouldn’t let what’s between us spoil what goes on with the band.”

  “Or what isn’t between us.” Ouch. “I agree.”

  “It’d be unprofessional.”

  Did he hear a snort? “Quite.”

  “Good. Good. So will I ... Are you coming to New York this weekend?”

  “We have two performances. Of course I’ll be there.”

  “Good. And, uh, Hell, the other guys. I mean, they ... they’ve got nothing to do with this.”

  There was a long pause before Hell sighed. “We’ll see if they feel the same.”

  “They do. You’ll see.”

  “All right.”

  Another long pause. Brent didn’t know what to say. Luc’s prodding and his own revelation aside, he really didn’t know how to express this or if Hell still felt the same. He’d probably ruined any chance he had with Hell by now.

  “Okay, then. See you Friday.” Lame.

  “Yes.” Hell’s answer was clipped and followed by his cutting the connection.

  Brent stared at his cell phone through watery eyes. He had to put his feelings aside. He’d obviously severed any romantic ties between himself and Hell, but it looked like the band wouldn’t suffer. That’s all that mattered.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Hey.”

  Brent briefly turned from his contemplation of the trees in the backyard of the house where the party was being held. Reese stood beside him, his newly dyed, brilliant blue hair stirring in the early November breeze and his big blue eyes full of ... something.

  Brent turned back to stare at the trees, kicking the lip of a little brick planter with the toe of his boot. “Hey.”

  “You’ve been quiet.”

  Brent shrugged. This wasn’t a newsflash. Other than backing vocals during the performance, he’d barely said ten words all night. Not since seeing Hell earlier that day at the sound check. Not since he’d realized that everyone could and did talk to the imp but him.

  “Want to talk?”

  “No.”

  “We’re worried about you.”

  “‘We’?”

  “Me. Luc. Johnnie. Tyler. Darien. Y’know, your friends.”

  Not Hell. Brent nodded but remained silent.

  “What gives?”

  Brent sighed. “Look. They’ve all already tried talking to me Just let it rest.”

  Johnnie, Luc, and even Darien had all grilled him when they’d shown up at the Weiss during the previous two days. Luc had damn near throttled him. Reese, in fact, had intervened.

  “I can’t let it rest. You’re hurting.”

  “No. I’m not. I’m fine.”

  “You’re not fine.”

  “Why can’t everyone just let it go?” Hell has.

  To prove his point, Brent heard Hell’s laugh drifting out into the night through the open balcony doors. Funny how he could pick out that laugh so easily.

  “Because you haven’t let it go. This thing between you and Hell is gnawing at you, and it shows.”

  “There’s nothing between me and Hell.”

  Reese sighed. “Have you tried talking to him?”

  “There’s nothing to say.”

  “But --”

  “Just stop. Does it even matter? I was onstage tonight, and I made music. The band sounded great. The fans got what they wanted.”

  “Yeah. You come alive on stage. But as soon as you’re off it, it’s like you’re dead.”

  “So?”

  “So?”

  “Yeah, so? What does it matter?”

  “It matters
.”

  “Why? Who cares?”

  Reese pushed an exasperated breath through his lips and took a drink from the glass in his hand. “Look, Brent, it may help if you --”

  “God damn it, Reese, would you leave me the fuck alone?”

  He didn’t see Reese’s reaction because he didn’t look. He kept staring at the damn trees, hoping Reese couldn’t see the tears welling in his eyes behind his sunglasses. After a moment, Reese walked away.

  Brent ducked his head and swiped at the moisture in his eyes. How long before he could escape this damn party? He didn’t want to be here in the first place. Behind him was a small cocktail party being thrown by a local business CEO. Brent forgot the business, but the company was going to be a major contributor to the tour, so the band was expected to show their pretty faces. For color. Like trophies Gretchen had made him come. So he’d come. He’d smiled for the pictures. He’d shaken hands. He’d done his duty. Now he was standing alone in the backyard, waiting to be excused, while Hell joked and flirted and acted like nothing was wrong.

  But maybe for him, nothing was wrong.

  Didn’t that prove Brent was right and there wasn’t any love between them?

  Brent groaned softly, grinding his teeth. He was so very sick of thinking about this. One moment he had himself convinced that he was in love with Hell and he should throw himself at the imp’s feet. The next, all signs pointed toward the fact that Hell was over it and that he should get over it, too. He’d been lectured, berated, and nearly strangled over the subject in the past few days, and he dearly wished it’d all stop.

  A rough hand took hold of Brent’s elbow and yanked.

  Brent’s head shot up. “Hey!”

  Luc scowled at him with coolly angry eyes. “Come on. We’re going back to the hotel.”

  “What?”

  Luc hauled Brent toward the terrace door. “You want to leave, right?”

  Bristling, Brent tried to snatch his arm away, but Luc held strong. They stopped just outside the doorway, glaring at each other. “You don’t have to baby-sit me.”

  Unmoved, Luc stared at him. “We’re going to the same place. I’m leaving. You coming?”

  Brent wanted to refuse, but the urge to leave was stronger, and he knew no one would let him leave alone. “Fine.”

  Luc hauled him toward the door again.

  “Hey!” he protested, but Luc just continued to drag him. He stared at the floor rather than looking around to see if anyone was watching them. Probably not. Most of the party was in the sunken living room, which did not lie between the terrace and the front door. “Is Reese coming?”

  “He’s talking to an art dealer over there.” Luc waved toward the living room, never taking his eyes from the front entrance.

  Brent seethed silently until they got to the door and out of it. He wondered why they didn’t have to let Gretchen or their host know they were leaving, but since he was leaving, he decided not to question it. However ... “Why are you leaving without him?”

  Luc finally let go of his arm as they were descending the winding walkway of wide, shallow brick stairs that led from the house down a steep incline to the waiting cars below. Each turn of the path was practically hidden from the next by thick shrubbery. “We’re not attached at the hip.”

  “No. Only at ass, mouth, and dick.”

  “Gee, that’s a pretty statement.”

  Brent scowled, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his slacks. “Not any less true.”

  “What the fuck is your problem?”

  “My problem is that everyone thinks I have a problem.”

  “You do.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Christ, Brent, why won’t you admit that you’re in love with Hell?”

  Brent froze at the curve of one turn halfway down the hill. Tall, crisply trimmed shrubbery and overhanging flowering trees hid the way they had come. “Not this again.”

  “Yes, this again. Everyone else knows it’s true except for you. And maybe Hell, since you keep denying it.”

  Brent shoved past Luc down the path. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  He heard the clack of Luc’s dress shoes as his friend followed. “Don’t I? Let’s see, a month ago, when the two of you are humping like bunnies, you’re happier than I’ve seen you. Ever.. But the minute the sex stops, you sink into the worst depression I’ve ever seen you in.”

  “I’m not depressed!”

  “Bullshit. You’re an antisocial freak, but even you’ve never been this bad before.”

  Unfortunately, Luc would be the one to know this. But that knowledge only made Brent seethe.

  He held up his hand in a one-finger salute for Luc. “Mind your own business.”

  Luc caught him by the arm and spun him to slam his back against another tree, hard enough that loose leaves rained down on them. Luc ripped off Brent’s sunglasses and stuck his nose into Brent’s face, matching Brent’s snarl. “You’re my business. You’re one of the people I care about most in this world, and I can’t stand to see you like this.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You’re anything but fine, Brent.”

  “Just let it go!” Brent hissed, trying to twist out of Luc’s grasp. Unfortunately, Luc had always been the stronger of the two of them.. Horrified, he felt tears burning in his eyes, matching the roil of angry heat that burbled in his chest. “Fucking leave me alone.”

  Luc ground his teeth, shaking Brent. “I’ve let it go long enough. We’re going to hash this out tonight.”

  Brent shut his eyes, letting his head fall back to thump against the bark of the tree. Tears rolled down his cheeks. “Damn it, just leave me alone.” But the anger didn’t sound in his voice.

  Luc’s hands switched from his shoulders to cup his face. Gently but firmly, he righted Brent’s neck. “Talk to me, man. Let me help you. You’ve at least got to vent.”

  He opened his eyes to stare wide-eyed into Luc’s concerned face His friend. The person who knew him best. If he talked to Luc, he’d have to acknowledge the pain, and that was not something he was willing to do.

  Luc brushed a brief kiss on Brent’s temple. “I love you, man,” Luc told him. “It kills me to see you hurting like this.”

  Brent opened his mouth, feeling the floodgates open.

  Another icy voice froze them. “I thought so.”

  Brent blinked, flinching at the sound of the voice. A familiar voice. A voice that haunted his mind, waking and sleeping.

  Luc’s hands fell from Brent’s face, and he turned as he stepped aside.

  Hell stood behind them on the path. The incline and the distance made him seem taller and far more imposing than he was. Hands on hips, hair and loose gray silk shirt stirring in the breeze, he glared at Brent. “Are the two of you off to fuck in a dark corner?”

  “Hell, man ...” Luc started.

  “I thought better of you, Luc. I know he’s still in love with you, but I thought you’d keep your hands off.”

  “What?!” Luc cried, his anger finding a different target.

  Brent groaned, hand over his eyes since Luc still held his glasses. “Hell, damn it, this is not what you think.”

  “Isn’t it?”

  “No.”

  Luc growled. “You’ve got some nerve.”

  Hell scowled. “I have nerve? At least I’m not fucking my best friend behind my boyfriend’s back..”

  “What?!” A fourth voice stopped them.

  It was like movie slow motion. Brent dropped his hand and saw Hell flinch and turn as Reese rounded the corner behind him.

  Reese glared at Hell. “What are you talking about?”

  “Tiger.” Luc moaned softly, stepping toward the other two.

  Reese kept talking, focused on Hell. “You’ve got a lot of gall accusing them of such a thing.”

  Hell sneered, rounding on Reese. “Didn’t you know that they were fucking each other before you?”

  “Shit, Hell
!” Brent cried, pushing away from the tree. He wasn’t sure how, but he had to keep Hell from talking.

  Luc got to them before Brent did, roaring. He saw Luc’s hand on Hell’s shoulder. Saw him spin the smaller man around.

  Instinct had him catching Luc’s right arm as he cocked it back for a swing at Hell’s face. “Luc, stop!”

  Hell crashed head over heels over a low bush that lined the pathway.

  Reese stumbled back in the other direction.

  Brent had his hands full trying to stop Luc from diving after Hell. Like a wildcat, Luc twisted and yanked until he finally rounded on Brent in frustration. Brent had to fall back and let go for his own safety, ducking a half-hearted swing Luc made at his head. Growling, Luc turned back toward Hell.

  “Luc!”

  Reese’s voice stopped Luc before he got to Hell, who was just scrambling to his feet on the small patch of grass on the other side of the bush.

  Luc turned toward his lover.

  Reese’s face said it all. “Is it true?”

  Luc didn’t answer immediately. His mouth opened, but nothing came out.

  If possible, Reese’s eyes went even bigger. “Oh, my God, it is!” His huge blue eyes flicked to Brent. “You’re sleeping together?”

  “Not anymore,” Brent heard himself say, belatedly realizing he should just shut up.

  “Anymore?”

  Luc stepped toward Reese. “Tiger --”

  “Don’t you fucking come near me, you asshole,” Reese cried, backing up with a fist raised toward Luc.

  “What’s going on here?” Brent looked up to see an unfamiliar man round the pathway behind Reese.

  But right behind him was Gretchen, then Johnnie.

  Great.

  Luc took another step toward Reese, which set the smaller man off. He started to launch himself, fist first, toward Luc, but the unknown man caught him from behind.

  “Reese, tiger, it’s not what you think ...” Brent couldn’t see Luc’s face, but he clearly saw the tension in his shoulders and the bunching of his hands into fists.

  “Oh, really?” Reese cried, struggling with the man who was proving stronger than he. “You’re fucking your best friend, and I’m supposed to just accept that?”

  “Whoa!” Johnnie barreled the rest of the way toward them to help hold on to Reese, who writhed and spat like a blue-haired cat.

  “No, Reese! We’re not --”