by Aliana James
“I can imagine. You can thank Billy the next time you see him. He’s the one who infected the whole club.”
“He mentioned it. He felt horrible. I told him he should stop making out with all his employees.”
Jonas stopped short and gazed at him in horror. “You didn’t!”
They started walking again before he continued. “You know Jaime has had a thing for him forever.” He brushed a piece of gravel from his mouth. “Billy knows it and still won’t give him the time of day.”
“That’s funny. Eric and I spoke about it the other day. We think we’re the only ones Billy hasn’t made a move on. It’s almost as if he’s trying to piss Jaime off.”
“You think that’s it?” he asked, every move of his mouth pulled on his aching face.
“We don’t know but it has to be something. Jaime’s a good guy, and Eric told me that Billy and him hooked up a while ago, so what else could it be?”
“They hooked up?” He mumbled. “How did Eric find out?”
It was nice to see his old apartment building. Jonas dug the keys out of his pocket and opened the door. He put up a hand to brace himself on the wall and continued that way until the elevator. Once inside, he slumped against the wall and wanted to sink to the floor.
“Don’t do it. If you sit down, I won’t be able to get you up again.” Jonas moved to his side and flung his arm around his waist. “Where was I? Oh, Eric said he overheard Jaime talking on the phone and figured it out.”
“Huh.” His body was about to give out and he leaned on Jonas.
“Yeah, well, I doubt anything will come of it. Billy’s burned that bridge.”
The doors opened and Jonas led him to the end of the hallway. His head weighed a ton but he knew it would be a while until he could rest. The cuts on his face needed attention and from the way his ears rang he knew he needed a head scan. After everything Tyler had gone through, he was up to date on medical procedures.
Jonas opened the door and Travis hobbled inside the apartment. He attempted to remove his shoes but gave up. Jonas reached and removed both sneakers then pulled himself up upright.
“You need a shower, clean clothes, and then I’m taking you to the hospital.”
“I know, I know.”
It took a while to peel the dirty and wet clothes off of him. Jonas disappeared from the bathroom and reappeared with his cell phone.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
“You need to take pictures of your injuries, Travis. Even I know that. Stand still.”
He grunted as the wall held him up. Jonas focused on the side and back of his body. The pain distracted him; he didn’t give a shit that he was naked.
“Hold this.” He gave him a towel to place in front of him as he took pictures of his hip. A round of coughing stopped him as he stood and held onto the sink. Travis leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He wanted to sleep.
“Don’t you dare go to sleep on me!” Jonas wheezed.
“I’m not.”
Jonas stepped up and took more pictures of his face and his head. The shower came on and then Jonas placed a hand on his arm.
“Can you get in here by yourself?”
He pushed off of the wall and dropped the towel. No time for modesty now. A stream of warm water hit his chilled skin and sent a shiver through him.
“Are you okay? Do you need me to hold you?” Jonas asked as he moved to the side of the shower.
This shower was the main reason he bought this apartment. It was a walk-in, a rain shower with detachable showerheads. Someone could stand at the other end and not get wet.
He lifted his arm to grab the shower head and grimaced. There was no way that arm was going any higher. Crap. Rain shower. He pressed the button for the rain as a bottle pressed into his hand. How to wash his hair and his face?
A washcloth pressed into his face.
“Hold this here.” Jonas moved in and lathered up his hair. He didn’t touch where the cut was and just let the water hit it. When he wasn’t paying attention, Jonas had stripped to his boxers to step into the shower.
“Rinse.”
He walked into the spray and then the water suddenly stopped. A towel wrapped around him.
“Come this way.”
God, everything hurt too damn much. Jonas led him to a bed. He still had the washcloth pressed to the side of his face. Jonas was moving around, getting dressed.
“Stand up a minute.” He stood and a soft fabric pulled up around his legs. He glanced to see Jonas pulling up sweatpants.
“Not sure if we can get a T-shirt on. Do you want to try or should we skip to a jacket?”
“Jacket.” The thought of putting his arms up and through anything did not appeal to him.
“Sit.” He finagled an arm through one side and Travis groaned as he gently tucked the other half over his injured arm. Jonas knelt and slipped his feet into shoes.
“What the hell am I wearing?”
“You have mules on your feet. It’s the only thing I had that would work since we aren’t the same shoe size.” Jonas smiled. “You’re a fashion icon. A lime green sweatsuit and mules. Project Runway, here you come.”
He gave him a small smile. Leave it to Jonas to lighten the mood.
Chapter Twenty-One
Travis
The room started to spin and Travis collapsed on the bed.
“Don’t feel so good.”
Jonas spoke with someone. It sounded like he was underwater. If he closed his eyes for a little while, would his head stop hurting?
“Travis! Damn it! Stay with me.”
“What?” He was being tugged upright when all he wanted to do is sleep. Why wouldn’t Jonas leave him alone?
“Travis. Come on.” Jonas squeezed his face.
“Oww! What the fuck?” His lips were numb and when he applied pressure Travis thought they would float off of his face.
“You need to stay awake. The paramedics are on their way. Shit, they won’t be able to get in. I need to get you downstairs.”
Who? Get in where? Travis’s arms hurt and they were being pulled out of their sockets. Jonas pushed him into a chair and they started moving backward.
“This would be a hell of a lot easier if your feet weren’t dragging on the ground,” Jonas muttered.
A beep sounded and something slid closed and then they were moving again.
“Travis. Wake up.”
It hurt to talk or open his eyes, so he raised his good hand.
“We’re in the elevator. Here, hold my hand. I need you to squeeze it so I know you’re awake.”
A ding sounded, and the pain radiated through his head.
They were moving again, backward again as his feet dragged across the floor.
“Here!” He slammed to a stop and Jonas studied him with his hand. “I need to go outside for a minute to flag down the paramedics.”
Voices, loud but unclear, sounded behind him and then they got closer.
“Sir, can you hear me?”
He nodded, and tears welled up in his eyes. A sharp pain stabbed him behind his eyes.
“What’s his name?”
His lips formed the first word but no sound came out.
“Travis. Travis Andrews-Bennett.”
Travis Andrews-Bennett. Why didn’t he think of that? He liked how it sounded.
“Not married no more,” he mumbled.
“No more what, sir?”
He didn’t have the strength to answer. Between the cuts on his cheek and the gravel in them, every bit of movement pulled at his skin.
“Ok, we’re going to move him on the count of three. One, two, three.”
“Can you give him something for the pain?”
“I need to call in first.” A garbled voice came over a walkie talkie and a few voices spoke at once. He couldn’t make out what anyone was saying.
“Got it,” another voice answered.
His good arm was being poked and then he felt a pinch. A
floating sensation enveloped him and something clicked into place. Now that he was flat on his back, the pain had lessened drastically. He opened his eyes and met the eyes of a cute paramedic.
“Hey there. Nice to see those eyes open.”
He flashed him a thumbs up and the cute paramedic smiled.
“We’re taking you to Mercy. Your friend is going to ride upfront. He sounds horrible but insisted he come along.”
They were moving again. A spotlight flashed in his eyeball and someone was holding his eye open. He swatted the hand away from his face and squinted. It was freaking bright.
“Sir, we need to take you for a head scan.”
He was moving again, then transferred to something else. The pain medicine helped as he didn’t have to focus on what was happening around him. He must have dozed off. The next time he opened his eyes, Jonas stood next to him.
“Hey.” Jonas coughed. “How are you doing?”
“I’m okay,” he replied as he lifted his hand to feel his cheek. A bandage spanned the whole side of his face.
“Leave it. They cleaned you up.” Jonas wheezed. “You slept through the whole thing.”
“Huh.” His arm was also bandaged up. The pain in his head had been reduced to a dull throbbing.
“What did they say?” he asked but needed to wait as Jonas started to cough.
The curtain pulled back. A nurse glared at Travis and then shifted to Jonas.
“Sir, are you all right? You don’t sound good at all.”
Jonas held up his hand and grabbed some tissues to blow his nose. “I’m fine.”
A man in a white coat with a clipboard peered over his glasses at Jonas. “You don’t sound fine. In fact, that cough suggests you may have something serious going on. I think you should get looked at.”
“No.” Cough, cough. Sneeze. Cough. “I have medicine, saw a doctor and all that. I need to take my medicine. I’m overdue.”
The doctor raised his eyebrows. “You have two choices. Either you let me examine you or you go home and follow up with your doctor as soon as possible.”
Jonas stood on the side of the gurney and looked at him.
“I’m okay, J. You should go home. You need to rest otherwise you’ll get worse.”
Alec
Alec was in a deep sleep, dreaming about bunnies, when the need to go to the bathroom woke him. He groaned as he pushed himself up from the bed, his arms sore from the reps he did earlier at the gym.
He usually worked out with Travis at a boxing gym downtown and with the familiar routine of the workouts, he finished refreshed. Not that night, as the rain made it so he didn’t want to go outside again and he used the workout space provided to the building’s tenants. He had to do something to kill the time while Travis worked.
With nothing but his thoughts and no trainer to yell at him, he overdid his arm exercises to the point where he could barely lift them.
The automatic light clicked on as he entered the bathroom. He squinted and studied his face in the mirror. His eyes, puffy and red, looked like he hadn’t slept in a week.
He’d all but steamrolled over Travis and hadn’t let him get a word in edgewise. And for what? According to Kane, he was a selfish, possessive idiot, and he was right. Even though Travis swore they were only friends, he didn’t understand why Peter needed him so much.
The bottom line was he didn’t want a divorce. He wanted this marriage. This man.
What time was it? A light sleeper, he always heard Travis when he came home from Raven. Maybe he hadn’t finished his shift yet. A glance at his nightstand clock showed it was 5:15 a.m. Much later than Travis usually came home. Raven closed at two, and Travis normally walked in around three.
He walked across the hall and pushed Travis’ door open. His bed was empty. Where the hell was he? Did he decide to go somewhere else? Back in his bedroom, he sat on the edge of his bed and rubbed his eyes. His brain wasn’t up to speed.
What did he expect? He’d told Travis they could get a divorce. Did he expect him to stay?
He glanced around the room as if Travis would magically appear. Chauncey rubbed against his legs and let out a meow. The cat roamed the apartment all evening looking for Travis.
“I know how you feel, buddy.” He scooped him up and held him close.
Jonas. Jonas rented his old apartment, and the place had two bedrooms. He suspected that’s exactly where Travis went.
Chauncey protested loudly, and he placed him on the floor. It was too damn early for him to be awake on a Sunday. He needed to sleep. When he woke, he’d find Travis and they would talk and straighten out everything.
Satisfied that a plan was in place, he crawled over to his pillow. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the blinking notification on his phone. Travis might have sent him a message. Curiosity got the better of him so he turned over his phone and stared, puzzled at the amount of missed calls, voicemails, and text alerts.
Shit. This couldn’t be good.
He wasn’t going to get any sleep after all, and if he had to stay awake, he needed coffee. In the kitchen, he dropped a pod in the coffee machine and hit brew. He scrolled through his messages and noted the majority of the them were from his credit card company regarding fraudulent activity.
Fraudulent activity? He hadn’t used any of his cards and were damn sure they were still all in his wallet. He walked to his dresser, clicked on the light, and opened his wallet. All accounted for.
Wallet in hand his phone rang as he walked back to the kitchen.
“Hello?”
“Hi, is Alec Bennett available?” a man’s voice answered.
“Speaking. Can I help you?”
He poured the creamer into his cup of coffee and stirred.
“Sir, my name is Robert Walter from Century Financial Bank. Can you verify your security code for me?”
“Yes, it’s 42GA77Z.”
He took a sip of his coffee. Nothing calmed him like his first cup. His shoulders screamed in pain and he shook out two painkillers from the bottle on the counter. The potted plants Travis placed all over the kitchen caught his eye, the towels with the matching potholders. Even the apron Alec had bought him as a joke hung prominently by the fridge. He would miss all of this.
“Sir?”
“Yes.”
“I need the last four digits of your SSN.”
“6414,” he answered.
He tapped his finger on the counter. As good as Century was, they weren’t invincible; systems got breached all the time. He was sure they’d made a mistake.
“Mr. Bennett, we have several transactions that are marked suspicious on your account. The first one is at electronic depot dot com for $5219.25, the second at computer club dot com for $9345.72, and a third at all things shipped dot com for $11,572.88 for the card ending in 9818.”
He checked all of his credit cards. None of them ended in 9818.
“I don’t have a card ending in 9818.”
“Yes, there is one on your account, sir… registered to Travis Andrews.”
Shit.
“That’s my husband.” His wallet must have got lifted at the club. “Please mark all the transactions as fraudulent.”
“Is he there with you sir?”
Odd question.
“No, he’s not.”
“Sir, can you please hold for a moment?”
No, he couldn’t. Something was going on with Travis and he needed to find him now. He put his phone on speaker, opened his messages, and sent one to Travis.
Hey, where are you?
No reply. After the argument they had, Alec wouldn’t reply either. Or Travis was sleeping.
On the phone with the credit card company. There’s been fraudulent activity on your card. I wanted to check in and see if you had your wallet.
“Sir?”
“Yes.”
“I’m going to put my manager on the line, one second.”
“Mr. Bennett, this is Susan Sullivan. Your husband linked
this card to his other accounts with us. As family, he gave us permission to speak with you regarding his accounts. I have some information here I think you should know.”
Alec looked at his phone and tried to will Travis to reply. Still nothing.
“What information?”
“Sir, all of your husband’s accounts have flagged for fraud activity. We have tried to reach him several times, so we have suspended the transactions. Do you want me to cancel the cards?”
“Yes, please cancel all the cards in his name.”
If Travis had an emergency, he would call his parents—even Tyler if he didn’t want to speak to him. Or Jonas.
Time to get dressed and see if he could track down his husband.
He might not be happy to see him, but Alec needed to know what had happened.
“Sir, I would suggest you call the police as soon as possible.”
“Yes, I will. Thank you.”
He ended the call, fed Chauncey in case he was out all day, and changed his clothes. As he stepped off the elevator, his phone rang and Kane’s name flashed on the screen.
“Kane, I think Travis’s wallet was stolen—”
“Alec,” Kane interrupted. “Travis is in the emergency room at Mercy.”
“Shit. I’m on my way.”
“I’m already here. If you wait a minute, I’ll find out what happened.”
Wait? No way in hell.
Travis
The emergency room doctor tried everything under the sun to get him to stay in the hospital. He’d been there for two hours. He’d had enough. Travis needed to go home.
He sent Jonas home after another round of coughing that led to chest pain. The man needed rest. He told him to call a cab and to send him the bill.
He left his phone at Jonas’s and he didn’t know anyone’s number by heart. Shit, his wallet. He had no cash either. He’d have the doorman call Alec to pay for the cab.
Outfitted in hospital scrubs, he grabbed the bag of his bloody clothes and pushed his feet into his shoes. The room started to sway, and a nurse reached out.