by J. M. Dabney
Black Leather & Knuckle Tattoos
J.M. Dabney
Hostile Whispers Press, LLC
Copyright © 2018 by J.M. Dabney
Hostile Whispers Press, LLC
ISBN-13: 978-1-947184-24-4
Edits by AlternativEdits (Laura McNellis & Amber Krogh)
Cover by: Five Star Designs (Morningstar Ashley)
Cover content is for illustrative purposes only. Any person depicted on the cover is a model.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
REMEMBER:
This book is a work of fiction. All characters, places, and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places, is purely coincidental.
PLEASE BE ADVISED:
This book contains material that is only suitable for mature readers. It may contain scenes of a sexual nature and violence.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
This story contains scenes of extreme depictions of childhood trauma/violence. While it’s not written in great detail some readers may find the content objectionable.
For my Readers
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Epilogue
About the Author
Also by J.M. Dabney
1
Don’t believe everything you hear or see, son; you’d be surprised at what you might get.
The words spoken in a gruff whisper played on repeat in his head. Troy’s slender hands shuffled papers on an impeccably kept desk for the hundredth time that day. His father’s cryptic advice plagued him.
His dad, Brent Canter slowly wasted away in a hospital bed for the past year. Brent wasn’t supposed to be there to give him advice, but his father fought through each treatment or procedure. Brent swore he was going to be around to see grandkids.
Troy grinned to himself. Brent fervently explained being gay wasn’t an excuse to not give him some beautiful babies to spoil in his old age.
He couldn’t bring himself to say goodbye to the man who’d raised him on his own. The product of a college relationship, his biological mother was unprepared to raise a child, so Brent stepped up to be a single parent. He carried no ill-will towards his mother. She hadn’t been a stranger in his life, but mostly contact was made through phone calls and the occasional visit. She was a well-respected heart surgeon and had married the woman of her dreams a decade ago.
Brent never seemed to have second-guessed any decision he’d ever made, but he knew that his dad regretted dropping out of pre-med. Brent may not have voiced it, yet he sensed it. When Brent spoke of his past, his dad was most animated when he told stories of medical school. His dad assured him time and time again that he was the proudest of things he’d accomplished.
When he’d come out to his dad over a quiet Sunday breakfast, Brent had only given him a strange smile in answer and went back to eating.
He’d expected more, an explosion of some sort, but like always, his dad just went with the flow. Troy couldn’t contain the heavy, weary sigh. For two years he’d lived in a constant state of worry, and even though his dad appeared to be on the mend, he didn’t want to get too content.
A knock rattled the door of his temporary office, and he looked up as the door cracked. Bright, azure eyes under the brim of a battered baseball cap appeared.
“Hey, boss man,” the too tempting man drawled.
Winston Sanchez, his father’s foreman and the bane of Troy’s existence since his teenage hormones went haywire. No one ever measured up to the perfection of Win. The man was a bit of a player, and Troy had marked him forever off-limits. That didn’t change the crush that had morphed into something else over the years. He didn’t want to name it; not even mentally.
“Hi, Win. Is everything okay?” he asked.
He pulled his thoughts away from years’ worth of fantasies as the man’s wide frame filled the open doorway.
“Yeah, just wanted to check on Brent. Can I come by later?” Win’s tone was filled with hesitation.
“Sure, you don’t have to ask to come by. He needs some company. His nurse is driving him crazy, and you or any of the other guys are welcome any time.”
“Thanks. How’s he doing?”
“Tired, but that’s normal. It’s going to take him a while to get his strength back.”
Finally, he was slowly starting to believe everything would work out. The last year of hell had ended. Although, Troy was still frightened to give in to the hope the cancer wouldn’t come back, and he knew it would always be at the back of his mind.
“It’s five, and everyone is headed out, we already scheduled all the crews for tomorrow. You ready to get back to your real world?”
He laughed. “Yes, I never want to see this much paperwork ever again.”
He’d taken over daily operations of Canter’s Handymen of all Trades. From construction to fixing a garbage disposal, really, whatever job needed to be done, they had the men to do it.
“You sound like Brent. He hates the paperwork too. I better get going.” The older man paused and made no move to leave the office.
“Have something on your mind, Win?” All the guys, at least the long-term ones, turned into family and friends. He’d observed them for so long—especially Win—that it was easy enough to read them.
“No, no, I’ll be by the house in an hour or two. Need to head home to shower and change. I’ll see you in a bit.”
That was all Win said before he disappeared out the door. He’d never seen the older man seem almost nervous. Maybe it was about seeing Brent. The guys never failed to ask about their boss, but rarely visited.
A strong Brent was a tall, imposing man who commanded the attention of the people around him. A natural leader and caretaker. It was hard to watch Brent lose muscle and the healthy glow that lit his weathered features. At only forty-nine, his dad was handsome. Women flocked to him and to see his handsomeness fade in the darkness of sickness was hard to take. No one wanted to see the strong man weaken, Troy hadn’t wanted to watch either, but it was just the two of them—he’d had no choice in watching over Brent.
He shoved aside the dark thoughts and separated files into two piles—completed and still needed work. Win handled the scheduling of jobs, which left Troy billing, payroll, and other mind-numbing tasks. Troy couldn’t wait to get back to teaching hyperactive kindergartners. He missed teaching and would resume his job in the fall.
It was time to head home, so he gathered up his bag and a thin jacket. Spring quickly approached with the temperatures starting to reach comfortable levels in Clifton, North Carolina. Slinging his messenger bag over his shoulder, he strode towards the office door. He checked to make sure the lights were all off before he exited through the front door. His sedan was the only vehicle in the parking lot, and he glanced up at a rumbling engine to catch sight of Win turning his Harley Fatboy left onto Monroe Avenue.
He smiled. Win didn’t even wait for spring thaw before he brought his baby out of storage. The smile fell, and he scrubbed his hands over his face.
At the age of sixteen, Troy had lost his min
d over the classic biker bad-boy who interviewed with Brent for a job. Ten years had passed since he’d drooled over black leather and tattoos for the first time. The hopelessness hadn’t been lost on him even then. Win was the attention magnet for women that wanted a roll with tall, dark and handsome. The man was never without female fans, and Win wasn’t shy about accepting the offers.
Troy threw back his head and mentally chastised himself for the stupid crush. Thankfully it was Friday, and he didn’t have to be back in until Monday. Saturdays were short days and Sundays were for emergencies only. Win would take care of everything. He reached into his pocket and slipped the fob from his pocket, unlocking the door. He quickly got into his car to head home.
The drive was short, and as soon as he walked through the door, the pinched-faced nurse met him.
“Your father is impossible,” she hissed through clenched teeth and escaped without a goodbye.
Troy set his bag aside and chuckled as he made his way to the living room. Brent lay in his hospital bed with a smug grin on his pale, yet still handsome face.
“What did you do?” Troy asked.
“The woman has no sense of humor.” The laughter twinkled in his dad’s hazel eyes and eased Troy’s tension. The man was slowly getting back to his old self, twisted sense of humor and all.
“Of course, she doesn’t. Nurse Ratchet is a sweetheart compared to her,” Troy quipped. When he approached the bed, he bent over and kissed Brent’s cheek.
“I need a cute, agreeable nurse.”
“Not until you’re back to full strength,” he joked with a mock scowl.
“You’re no fun. Son, how was the office?” Brent asked.
“Same as always, but you’re going to have company. Win said he’d be by in a few hours after he goes home and changes.”
“It’ll be good to see him.”
“I figured. Did you get dinner before you drove away your nurse?”
“Yeah, but I want a steak with all the trimmings.”
“Soon, I promise.” He resisted the urge to ask how Brent felt, if he was in pain, nauseous or chilled because those inquiries were a guaranteed fight. It was going to be a hard habit to break. They’d been automatic, uttered by rote on nauseating repeat for too long.
“I need to get back to work.”
He’d known it was coming. It became a familiar request over the past month. Although Brent felt better, he wasn’t up to the long hours he’d try to pull if Brent was allowed back into his office. “I know. You have an appointment next week, and we’ll see if he’ll release you to at least go to the office.” Brent’s resigned sigh was too loud in the room. “Dad…” Troy’s voice broke, and a calloused hand covered his on the mattress.
“Son, I’m fine, I feel better already. I won’t push myself, but I miss my runs, the gym, and work. Work is one thing that I can do. The rest will have to wait.”
“I know, I do, I’ve just…” Troy couldn’t continue. His dad was the only family he had, Brent an only child of only children—there was only the two of them. His mother wasn’t really in the picture, Brenda was a nice woman, yet not really a Mom.
“There’s no shame in being scared. But the surgery, radiation, and chemo worked, I know it.”
Troy nodded because he didn’t trust his voice.
“Go get changed, son, relax a bit. Win can entertain me for the evening.”
He once more kissed his dad’s cool cheek and headed for the steps to go shower and change. The door flew open, and Miller stood in the entryway. The small statured man maniacally grinned.
“He’s looking at my ass, isn’t he?”
Troy was confused until he glanced behind his friend to find Win rolling his eyes. Win was still dressed in his work clothes with a bag slung over one muscled shoulder.
“Move it, half-pint,” Win growled and slipped around Miller to disappear into the living room.
“He wants me, always has.” Miller giggled and took off running.
“Miller,” Troy shouted and took off after his friend.
“Well, hello there, handsome.” Miller straddled Brent’s thighs and cooed at him.
“How is my favorite over-sexed munchkin?” Brent asked with a laugh and reached up to cup Miller’s face, pulling the man closer for a loud kiss on his cheek.
“If you weren’t so straight, I’d be doing good.”
Troy could practically picture the flirty grin and batting lashes.
“When has that stopped you?” Brent asked.
An indignant gasp turned to a squeak. “I’m hurt, Daddy, I’m truly hurt.”
“Don’t call my father Daddy, you little perv. What are you doing here?”
His best friend being in love with his father completely freaked him out. Miller compared every man to Brent. Thankfully Brent was oblivious. He and Miller were a sad pair—both wanted men they could never have.
Pathetic. Troy rolled his eyes.
“We’re going out.” Miller fell to the side and curled into the curve of Brent’s body, and his dad wrapped his arm around Miller.
“I can’t go out. I just wanted to be lazy tonight.” He knew his protests would be ignored by the stubborn set of his father’s and best friend’s jaws.
“No, son, I arranged it all. Win is hanging out with me for the night.”
Troy shot Win a look and found the other man turning away with a guilty expression.
“And Miller is taking you out. Find you a nice man, and I don’t expect you home tonight.”
“Dad, I don’t fuck on the first date,” Troy muttered and glared. His hope died that it would be the end when his dad cocked his head slightly and lifted a brow. The twinkle in the older man’s eyes made his stomach knot.
“Who said anything about a date?” Brent asked.
“I’m not talking about this with an audience.” What he meant was he didn’t want to talk about his lack of a love life in front of Win. Win shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Straight men didn’t want to hear about gay hook-ups, never mind the fact he hadn’t dated in over a year, on principle alone Troy needed some things to be private. Besides, he wasn’t the one-night stand type, and his sexual frustration didn’t need to be the forefront of conversation.
“Go out, have fun, you’ve spent every night home with me for the past year. It’s time we both start living again. Now, go, I’m not taking no for an answer. Miller, go make him get dressed.”
“I’m on it, Daddy,” Miller purred and jumped off the bed. Delicate fingers gripped his wrist and dragged him towards the stairs.
“Quit calling him Daddy.” Miller ignored his yell, and Troy jogged to stay in step with his annoying best friend.
2
Quick goodbyes and a slammed door left Win and Brent alone. He removed his baseball cap and ran his fingers through his thick wavy hair. Blowing out a heavy breath, he stretched his broad shoulders trying to ease the building tension.
“Something on your mind, son?” Brent asked.
Win was growing tired of that question because he didn’t know how to answer it.
“A lot of people are asking me that lately.”
“Then maybe you should talk to someone about it,” Brent suggested.
“No point in it. I’m not here about me. How you doing, old man?”
“Tired but feeling a lot better. Hoping to get back to work soon, but that son of mine is being hyper-protective. I understand it, although it’s driving me crazy.”
“I’m sure. You in the clear?” Win asked not knowing if he wanted the answer. The older man wasn’t only his boss, but his friend as well. Brent had taken a chance on him. An angry, ex-con and Brent hadn’t even batted an eye.
“We’ll find out next week. I feel better than I have in over a year. Now, I just need a doctor to tell me that I’m not being delusional. I’m missing my life.”
Brent had always been active, running, going to the gym and working right alongside his men. Trapped in a bed had to be driving him insane. �
��You just miss bossing all of us around and making us look bad when you work twice as hard as us young folks.”
Brent let out a booming laugh and Win grinned.
“True, very true, sadly, that wasn’t too hard to do with you guys.”
“Ouch, old man, you’re hitting below the belt now.”
“How’s Troy been doing?”
The question took Win by surprise.
“How do you mean?” Win asked.
“He’s put his life on hold for a year. Left a job he loves, stopped going out or spending time with his friends and I worry about him. He puts on a brave front around me.”
“Troy seems okay.” He paused to search his memory for anything off. “He works hard at the office. I don’t see much of him since I spend most of my time on calls.”
“He needs a nice man, someone other than me to spend his evenings with.”
“You ready for your kid to settle down?” Win inquired and looked away.
When he’d met Troy, the kid was pale with freckled skin over bones. He’d filled out a bit in the past decade, but he was still slim. Win hadn’t paid attention to Brent’s kid until Troy started to spend more time around the office. Troy had been eighteen and completely off-limits, the fact that Troy was gay made it even worse because it reminded him of the secrets he kept about his bisexuality.
Win figured he was bisexual since birth, yet he hadn’t met a man that pushed him to step out of his comfort zone. Women were easier to deal with, he knew what to expect, and if they assumed he was an asshole, it just meant they wouldn’t get attached. He inwardly cringed—he was an asshole.
“No one will ever be good enough for my son, but I’ll have to endure if he ever does meet anyone.”
Win barely suppressed a flinch. It wasn’t as if he would ever do anything about his interest in Troy, yet somehow the option being there made his suppression of his desires bearable. Troy screamed forever—marriage and kids—and Win didn’t know if he had it in him. A strange ache built behind his breastbone and he resisted the urge to rub it away.