by Jenna Jacob
Cindy wasn’t going to believe this when I told her, but…no. What the hell was I thinking? I couldn’t tell her anything. Drake trusted me to keep their secrets, and I would.
As James inched us further into the room, the Native American man turned, then greeted us with a wide smile. I wondered if it were a prerequisite that every Dom from Genesis had to be drop-dead gorgeous.
“James, my man. Damn good to see you,” the blue-eyed man exclaimed. A sexy little dimple sank deep into the side of his cheek as he settled an inquisitive gaze on me.
Thankfully, he didn’t make my skin crawl, like Kerr had.
James introduced me to Dylan—the sexy blonde, and Nick—the swarthy Native American, as well as Savannah—the pretty young woman/submissive they shared.
Drake rose from Trevor’s bed and wrapped me in a tight hug. “I’m glad you came back. I’m truly sorry if I upset you yesterday,” he whispered in my ear.
“You didn’t. Don’t give it a second thought,” I assured him in a voice only he could hear.
Drake released me and gave James a solid smack on the shoulder. “Glad to see you both.”
I smiled down at Trevor, his blue eyes sparkling with joy. “How are you—”
“Thank you so much for…everything,” Trevor gushed. Though his words still held a slight slur, he was forming sentences much better than the previous night in the ER. “I would have gone out of my mind if it hadn’t been for you.”
A lump of emotion lodged in my throat.
“Oh, you’re the angel,” Savannah exclaimed, looking at me in awe. “Trevor’s told us all about you.”
Feeling unnerved and self-conscious, I shook my head. “I was just doing my job.”
“The way Trevor tells it, you did a hell of a fine one,” Nick touted as he and Dylan continued to hold Savannah between them in shared possession.
I’d never met a real-life ménage couple before. Sure, I’d read about them in books. Hell, I’d fantasized at least a zillion times about being taken by two men at once, but I never suspected trios actually existed.
I couldn’t help but stare at Savannah. Aside from being beautiful, she looked wholesome in an almost innocent way. She didn’t look the least bit skanky. In fact, there was nothing about her that came close to fitting my preconceived notions. She might fuck two men at the same time, but she didn’t look at all like a slut or a whore.
Judgmental much? Mother Sally would be proud that she raised you so well.
The thought of my mother having any speck of influence on my life sent my stomach pitching, in a slow, sickening slide. Cringing inwardly, I forced a soft smile to hide my shameful prejudices I realized I was still harboring.
“Thank you,” I shyly replied to Nick and his compliment.
Trying to keep from ogling the trio, I focused on Trevor. Stepping close to the side of his bed, the nurse inside me wanted to check his tongue, the stitches on his head, and the site of his surgical incision. Instead, I placated myself by inspecting the rainbow of colors painted over his narrow face. Dark purples, edged in hues of crimson and indigo, indicated the outward healing process was well underway. Except for the blood, Trevor now looked somewhat worse than he did when he arrived in the ER.
“How’s the pain?” I asked.
As if my concern touched him, a slow smile curved one corner of his mouth. “Comes and goes. Daddy watches the clock and pushes the pump for me.” Trevor’s blue eyes brimmed with love as he stared at his compassionate lover. “The cops came in early this morning. There was a witness.”
A fact I knew from the EMT’s run report.
“Some woman was driving home and saw what was happening,” Trevor explained. “She pulled into the parking lot next door and called the cops on her cell.”
Closing his eyes, Trevor stopped talking. His chin quivered. I knew he was reliving the horrific event. I reached down and squeezed his hand, then glanced up at Drake. His jaw ticked in anger and his eyes brimmed with tears.
“When the assholes heard the sirens coming—” Nick’s deep voice was filled with anguish as he continued Trevor’s story. “—the stupid fuckers ran right past her car, and she was able to get a good look at each man.”
“Hell of a woman,” Dylan interjected. “She was mad, so mad she spent the rest of the night at the police station pouring over mug shots of college-aged men. She positively identified two guys who had been arrested about six months ago. One for pissing in public outside a bar, the other asshole happened to be out on bail. He’d smacked his girlfriend around a couple of weeks ago.”
Trevor had nodded off as Dylan recanted the information.
“Do you know who’s working the case?” James asked solemnly.
“Your buddy, Tommy’s roommate. Detective Wheeler,” Dylan informed him with a furtive arch of a brow.
“Good. There won’t be any fuck ups.” James assured grimly. “Have charges been filed?”
“No,” Drake replied. His tone was bitter and angry. “Not yet. They want to bring all of them in together, so the witness can ID the rest of the pricks.”
“I’ll make a couple of calls. See if they can speed that up for you,” James offered.
“Thanks man. I…” Drake trailed off as he watched Trevor sleeping. “I just want five minutes alone with those motherfuckers.”
“So do we,” Dylan affirmed from across the room.
“No.” Drake turned and snarled. “They’re mine!”
Wincing at the feral promise in his tone, I knew the big man would make good on his word. Inwardly, I hoped he would. There wasn’t an ounce of compassion or sympathy inside me for the men who had brutalized Trevor.
“Thank you, Sir,” Savannah said. Her tone was pithy as she looked pointedly at Drake. “After Mellie and Joshua’s nightmare, I just got Dylan back from the dark side. I’d rather not lose him again.”
“I was never lost, kitten. I simply closed off compassion for a few days, to keep our friends safe,” Dylan proclaimed. Leaning in he kissed the tip of her nose.
Savannah narrowed her eyes and opened her mouth. Dylan cocked his head and issued a look of warning so stern, it gave me chills. She snapped her mouth shut, but rolled her eyes in a silent, ‘whatever.’
With a low growl, Dylan swatted her soundly on the butt. I sucked in a startled gasp as Savannah let out a squeal then giggled. Trevor jerked and issued a low groan, and Nick’s laid-back expression morphed into a thundercloud of disapproval.
“It’s time to go,” he admonished with an unhappy frown.
“That wasn’t my fault, Master,” Savannah huffed, placing her hands on her hips.
Nick arched one brow and raised his chin, as if daring her to continue. Savannah didn’t try to persuade him further; she simply exhaled a perturbed sigh. “May I say goodbye to Drake, Sir, please?”
“Make it quick,” Dylan warned.
Savannah hurried to Drake and planted a kiss on his cheek.
“I’m sorry that you and Trevor have to go through all this, Sir.” She frowned.
Drake nodded in thanks, then a mischievous smile spread over his mouth. “Enjoy your spankings for him, girl. Remember, he likes a lot of pain.”
“Oh, my.” A playful grin lit up her face.
“What makes you think we’re going to let you enjoy it, little one?” Nick warned.
I bit my bottom lip wondering what Savannah’s Doms had in store for her. She didn’t seem the least bit worried, but my mind busily conjured up all kinds of painfully wicked scenarios.
One by one the men shook hands and said their goodbyes. Savannah wrapped her arms around me. Caught off guard by her affection, I tensed and held her a bit longer than normal.
“Are you going to be okay? They’re not really going to hurt you, are they?” I whispered in her ear.
Her body shook as she held in a giggle. “No. Never. What we do is totally consensual. If they ever purposefully hurt me, I’d have to hurt them right back.”
Pulling awa
y, she grinned and gave me a wink before strolling out the door with her two Doms. A strange sort of envy filled me. I wondered what it would be like to be...
“I’m glad you both are here,” Drake announced, dousing out the lurid fantasy catching fire in my head. “It means a lot to Trevor and me.”
“Wild horses couldn’t keep me away. He’s in much better spirits than I expected,” I replied. Drake nodded and I flashed him a sassy smile. “I told you so.”
“Told me what?”
“That you were the best medicine he could have.”
“Yes. You certainly did.” Turning his attention back to his boy, the memory of walking into the trauma room played over Drake’s face. “Goddamn it.”
His voice cracked and I couldn’t help but wrap my arms around the burly man and hug him.
“Stop beating yourself up and be gentle with you. Healing takes time,” I whispered.
“I know.” Drake sniffed as I slowly released him.
“Do you need anything? Clean clothes? Food?” James asked.
“No. I’m good. Julianna and Mika ran by the house this morning,” Drake replied, nodding toward a big suitcase tucked in the corner of the room. Three large grocery sacks sat on the alcove by the window, brimming with snack foods. “What I need you can’t give me. I’ll have to plot out my own revenge.”
After Dayne had died, I dreamt up several ways to get even with Councilman Cromwell. An eye for an eye careened through my brain on a daily basis. It took a long time, before I realized that death wasn’t punishment enough for the son of a bitch. He needed to live. Live the rest of his days consumed in guilt knowing his cowardice and lies had killed my brother. Bitterness lay on my tongue, acrid and vile, but I swallowed it down, along with my fury and guilt.
“No. No. Daddy, help me. Please. No,” Trevor called out in his sleep.
Drake hurried to sit on the bed. Stroking his lover’s hair, he whispered reassurance in a loving tone so poignant it made my eyes sting. Drake reached up and brushed at his own tears.
Stepping up behind him, James gripped Drake’s shoulder, then leaned down to whisper something in the big man’s ear.
“I know, but I am going to find them. Every last one of them,” Drake vowed in a trembling voice. “And heaven help them when I’m through.”
“Just cover your ass and keep it out of jail. Trev’s going to need you now, more than ever,” James warned in a compassionate tone. “If you need help, say the word. It’s not like I’ll lose my badge anymore.”
Drake didn’t reply; he simply nodded and wiped his cheeks, once more.
“When was the last time you went out for some fresh air, or even stepped foot out of this room?” I asked, needing to do something to ease Drake’s inner turmoil.
“I haven’t,” he mumbled.
“You need to. Why don’t you and James go down to the cafeteria, get some food, or a cup of coffee. I’ll stay with Trevor while you’re gone.”
“I don’t want to leave him,” Drake replied, his voice anxious.
“I know, but being cooped up in this room isn’t helping you see past your hurt and rage. Go outside for a couple of minutes. Let the sun beat down on your skin. Drink in some clean air. Or go to the waiting room and visit with your friends. You’re not abandoning Trevor. I’ll be right here when you come back. I promise, I won’t leave his side for a second.”
James flashed me a heart-melting smile. “Come on, man. Liz is right. Let’s go grab a hot meal.”
“Take down my number and call my cell if he wakes up.” The panic slicing Drake’s voice broke my heart.
I patted my purse. “I have James’ number in my cell. If Trevor wakes up, I’ll call right away.”
With a nervous nod, he stood. Tentatively leaning over, Drake brushed a soft kiss on Trevor’s cheek. “I won’t be gone long, love.”
I gave him a reassuring smile as James led Drake out of the room. Easing onto the bed beside him, I brushed my fingertips through Trevor’s soft hair.
“You’re a lucky, lucky man. You know that?” I whispered as he slept. “You have so many amazing people who love you. What a spectacularly blessed life you live. Don’t let the assholes who did this to you take one fragment of your happiness, Trevor. You’re so much more than they’ll ever be.”
He responded to my words with a sleepy moan. Sliding my hand into his, I gently brushed my thumb over his wrapped knuckles. Memories of comforting Dayne, the night we became orphans, rushed back in a melancholy wave.
It was my last night at home before moving into my first apartment to begin my second year of nursing school. Mom, Dayne and I had spent the day laughing and reminiscing as we packed my things and loaded up my car. I never knew what prompted my brother to come out of the closet and tell Mom he was gay, but he did. Maybe it was because the day had been filled with so much love he thought it was safe. Or maybe he felt he needed Mom’s support since I’d be taking his secret with me when I left.
She didn’t handle the news well—not at all. First she screamed and sobbed, then she went postal. Railing at Dayne, she called him hateful and horrible names. Bewildered and crushed by her reaction, Dayne ran to his room. I was equally stunned. She’d never shown an ounce of prejudice before, but the way she turned on her own son made me sick to my stomach.
Instead of letting him seek shelter in his room, Mom stormed down the hall and into his room, screaming and cursing the whole way. Rushing in to protect him, I discovered she had already begun yanking clothes from the closet and tossing them onto his bed. Dragging out a suitcase, she shoved everything inside as she yelled and cursed him. Dayne was crying, pleading for her to understand and forgive him, but that only made her angrier.
“I will not have a faggot living in my house.”
Dayne was eighteen…just two months from graduating high school. He’d been a straight ‘A’ student his entire life. The thought of her tossing him out on the street was the last straw. Joining the fray, I exploded on her. Yelling, I demanded that she be reasonable, but she just ignored me, only to continue spewing horrid, hurtful slurs. Each insult landed like a well-aimed knife, piercing Dayne’s fragile heart.
I rounded on her and got right in her face. “He’s just a kid,” I screamed.
“He’s an abomination. Just like your father.”
“What?” I gaped. Still fuming and furious, a shocking thought penetrated my brain. Terrified to discover the truth, still I had to ask. More importantly, Dayne needed to know if what I’d suspected was true.
“What does Dad have to do with any of this?”
“He’s a queer,” she snarled. “A flaming homosexual. There. I said it. Are you happy?”
Denial screamed through me, but deep inside I knew it was true. My father’s secret had devastated her. It was the only viable explanation for her to harbor such homophobic hatred.
“He married me so his family wouldn’t find out that he was a limp-wristed pansy. The son of a bitch even knocked me up twice to prove it,” she shrieked with a humorless chuckle. “Lies, nothing but lies. He’d kept me in the dark, living a life of deceit and deception until one day he broke down and told me he had a boyfriend. A fucking boyfriend.”
My heart sank and my stomach twisted.
“Let me fill you in on a little secret. Your father didn’t leave. I kicked his dick-loving ass out,” she confessed with a snarl. “I wasn’t going to share my bed with a queer, and I certainly wasn’t going to let him touch me. God knows how many assholes he’d shoved his filthy dick into. But it looks like he got the last laugh now, didn’t he? He extracted his sweet revenge. He gave me a son just like him…a sick little faggot!”
“Stop calling him that,” I thundered.
“My dad is gay?” Dayne whispered.
“Your dad is a lying sack of shit,” she screamed as tears slid down her face. “I thought he loved me.”
“Where is he now?” I asked, still reeling from the bombshell she’d dropped.
&nbs
p; “In hell, taking it up the ass from the devil himself, along with all his other ass-fucking lovers. I hope.”
It was obvious that our father, Kennett Johansson, had attempted to live a straight life, but only succeeded in infecting our mother with an anger that had festered and grown stronger over the years. And Sally Johansson had unleashed all that pent-up, venomous hate to erupt in a projectile of rage and betrayal upon her innocent son. Dayne, who’d done nothing but love her, had become her scapegoat.
Sickened that a mother would disown her only son in such a heinous way, I raised my chin and stared her straight in the eye. “Dayne is moving in with me. Right now. Tonight.”
“You’re siding with a sinner?” she screamed in disbelief. “Fine, you stupid bitch. You’re just as dead to me as your perverted father and brother. Get the fuck out of my house. Both of you. Get out!”
She turned on her heel and stormed down the hall. Slamming the door to her bedroom, I gathered Dayne into my arms and held him as we both cried. Being under the same roof with a woman I suddenly didn’t know made my skin crawl. Wiping Dayne’s tears on the hem of my t-shirt, I told him to finish packing. Gathering up the rest of my belongings, Dayne and I shoved them into my car. We left that night, still wearing our pajamas, and never went back.
We shared my one bedroom apartment—me on a lumpy twin bed, Dayne on a duct taped inflatable mattress—while our bond grew inseparable. I made sure Dayne graduated high school—with honors—and helped him enroll at a local community college. We worked hard, supporting each other through the good and bad, and fit more laughter and love into our years together than most siblings share in a lifetime.
Not long after Dayne and I moved out, I heard through a friend that Mom sold the house and moved to North Carolina. I didn’t know—or care—if she was alive or dead. It didn’t matter; Dayne and I had started new lives…happy ones.