by J. M. Dabney
Sin & Saint
Executioners Book 4
J.M. Dabney
© 2017 Jami M. Dabney (Hostile Whispers Press, LLC)
ISBN: 978-1-947184-07-7
Edited by: AlternativEdits (Laura McNellis)
Cover Art by: Winterheart Design (Lex Valentine)
To my Readers, who’ve stuck with me through Twirled, Brawlers, and the Executioners, thank you all. You’ll never know how much your support means.
Contents
Author Note
Prologue
1. Pelter Had to Be Strong
2. Being Good Was a Drag
3. He Was Too Old for This Shit
4. Fuck, He Felt Good
5. Saint Was Going to Puke, He Knows It
6. Shit, What the Fuck had He Done?
7. They’re Going to Need Bail Money
8. This Wasn’t Home, at Least Not Theirs
9. His Boys Were in His House Where They Belonged
10. Flying Was Where He Felt Like Himself
11. This Was the Life
12. Why Couldn’t His Quiet Town Stay Fucking Quiet?
13. Camden Was Being Weird
14. It Was Almost Like a Fairy Tale
15. He’d Arrest Linus If He Didn’t Need the Bastard
16. They Didn’t Need a Security Detail
17. Their Future
18. When Did His Life Turn Into A Freak Show?
19. Oh, Shit, They Were Getting Married
20. Camden Needed Them
21. Camden Arrested Every One of Them
22. His Boys Were Amazing
Epilogue
About the Author
Author Note
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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.
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PLEASE BE ADVISED:
This book contains material that is only suitable for mature readers. It may contain scenes of a sexual nature and violence.
Prologue
Everyone saw him as the leader. The one who would throw down his life for his team, but he was in a different universe at Brawlers bar. His cousin, Scary, owned the place with his husbands, Tank and Elijah. The biggest and most dangerous man he’d ever met was at a corner booth with his arms around his men, and fuck, he was jealous. Camden Pelter raised his perspiring beer bottle to his mouth and took a long draw. He couldn’t remember the last time he relaxed enough for a beer or simply to hang out.
He’d come here for an operation, and he was supposed to be right back out of town. That was two days ago. The Powers, Georgia, Sheriff had been into some shit. He came to town to help bring the corrupt fucker down before the racist and homophobic bastard tried to take out Scary’s crew for good.
He and his cousin weren’t on the best terms. The last time they’d butted heads, he’d locked Scary up, and their grandmother had nearly disowned him. When Scary and his crew went silent after the shooting of the Sheriff, he thought he was going to have to threaten Scary again, but Elijah had come to the rescue by brokering a bit of a deal. He did like his cousin’s extremely handsome husband. How the fuck Scary got him, he didn’t know and sure as fuck didn’t understand it.
“Hey, handsome, can I get you another.” Twitch leaned on the bar.
The tiny man was married to a beast named Crave. He’d never met a man he’d call beautiful in his life, but Twitch was so much so, it made him uncomfortable. He wasn’t in the closet, but he didn’t advertise. In his line of work, the testosterone and machismo went right along with the homophobia. He needed to depend on his team to have his back when shit went nuclear during operations. A split-second hesitation could end with a suit showing up to notify your next of kin.
“Your man already threatened my nuts if I even smiled at you, beautiful.”
Twitch’s super sweet and lovely smile was enough to make someone nauseous.
“How else will I make my tips if I don’t seduce them with my overwhelming gorgeousness?”
“Darlin’, even on your worse day you probably turn heads.”
“You do know I’m married, right?”
“Doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate the view, ain’t that right?”
He couldn’t contain his smile at the sweet little blush that spread across Twitch’s tanned cheeks. How a man married to Crave could still blush fucking shocked him. The kid was cute, and from what he’d seen, Twitch was genuinely sweet and caring. He didn’t see that much anymore.
It was nice to flirt even if he knew the boy was taken.
“There’s a few boys appreciating the fine form sitting in front of me right now.”
“Doubt that.”
Soft fingertips touched his stubble covered cheek and turned his head toward the stage. Executioners, they were the house band and made up of the roughest sons of bitches he’d ever met. That’s when he noticed them, perfect and blond, even more beautiful than Twitch and they were staring right at him. He gripped Twitch’s wrist with a gentle pressure and slowly lowered the man’s hand to the bar.
“I don’t do jailbait.”
Just looking at them had his jeans fitting too fucking tight and he released Twitch to bring his attention back to his drink.
“Twenty-one isn’t jailbait. Sin and Saint are grown men.”
“Not grown enough for a forty-three-year-old man.” He darted another glance at the stage, but luckily those two boys weren’t looking at him. Fuck, but they had him thinking shit he shouldn’t. Like if their blond hair would be as soft as it looked wrapped around his fist. He clenched his jaw and forced himself to look away.
“You old men pay too much attention to age or is your sexy ass still in the closet?”
“Would I be here if I was in the closet?”
“I don’t know. Your cousin owns the place.”
“I’m not in the closet, but I don’t advertise either.”
“Maybe you should. You’re single.”
“I like being single.” The lie tasted bitter on his tongue. It wasn’t that he minded being single, but his existence had become pretty lonely since his SWAT days. He didn’t have the time to invest, and his undercover assignments didn’t allow for time to spend with a partner. In his mind, that hadn’t seemed fair to someone who could potentially mean a lot more to him than a casual hookup.
Twitch snorted. “Those glances at Sin and Saint say otherwise.”
“Sin and Saint, don’t they have real names?” Even though the names seemed perfect, he didn’t like them, and he wasn’t going to call his—nothing his was in this bar.
“Sin is Eric, and Ellison is Saint, but I don’t think they answer to them. Last I heard their mom started calling them Sin and Saint too.”
“I
won’t be calling them Sin and Saint.”
“Does that mean you’ll be calling them because they’re headed this way. Good luck.”
He nearly hollered for Twitch when the little man darted away. He was a grown ass man so he could handle two pretty boys. Their platinum blond hair tousled around their beautiful faces. Fuck, he caught sight of himself in the mirror behind the bar, and he looked old, well, ancient compared to them. The silver patch in his goatee stood out starkly and reminded him he wasn’t in his twenties or even thirties anymore.
Just don’t be an asshole, Camden, he ordered himself. His hand locked tight around the bottle as the most beautiful men he’d ever seen flanked him on either side. Their slim bodies pushing in beside him, and he instantly knew which one was Sin. The boy pressed in tight to his side, while Ellison, Saint, kept a bit of distance. In his peripheral, he noticed the innocent pink that stained Ellison’s cheeks and he wanted to reach for him. Chase the spreading color under the pads of his calloused fingers.
“Well, hello, sexy, you’re new.”
Eric’s soft fingertips stroked up his bare arm only being stopped by the rolled cuff of his dress shirt. His stomach tightened.
“Camden.”
“You’re Scary’s cousin.”
Ellison’s voice was softer than Eric’s, and tinged with a hint of shyness that made him want to turn to him.
“Why don’t you come home with us, Camden?”
“Why don’t you go play with someone your own age, boy?”
He didn’t know where the brusque tone came from, but he didn’t want to be some notch for boys with Daddy issues. It was a rage in his abdomen. An emotion he’d never experienced before burned through his veins, and he couldn’t think beyond getting as far away from Eric and Ellison as he could. Part of him wanted to put them over his knee for propositioning some strange man in a bar. The other part, the one he needed to rein in, wanted to take them home.
“Twitch,” he called for the bartender and pulled enough from his pocket to cover his few beers, plus a generous tip.
“Goodnight, boys.”
Eric looked at him like he was insane to turn them down and maybe he was, but he was a grown ass man, and he knew what he wanted. Ellison avoided glancing at him and instead of embarrassment or shyness, the young man looked ashamed. He pushed back from the bar and started to walk away.
“Goodnight, Camden.”
Ellison’s sweet voice called to him, and he imagined what it would sound like when the boy screamed his name as he was buried balls deep. Angry with himself, he strode toward the door.
He knew what he wanted, something or someone only his, someone to care for and make happy. A quick fuck he wasn’t and twenty-one was too fucking young for what he had in mind. That didn’t keep his mind from wandering to the twin temptations he’d left back at Brawlers, and it didn’t disappear even as he drove in the opposite direction of Powers, Georgia, and from the things he knew he couldn’t have.
One
Pelter Had to Be Strong
Two Years Later…
Powers Sheriff’s Department was deserted, and the cells downstairs were empty. Camden stood outside, his uniform shirt sticking to his skin from the late Summer humidity and he watched Heidi’s Diner across the street. The place was packed with the Crews, the men and women he felt he’d become friends with over the last year or so since he’d left his job with the Georgia State Police. He missed his team and the constant chaos, but the small-town pace had its charm too.
The Brawlers, Twirled World Ink, and Executioners Crews, along with Trenton Security laughed. He kept up his internal debate about whether to walk over and join them there, but the sight of two of the group forced him to stay away. Sin and Saint Gant set their sights on him before he’d even taken over the job there.
The night at Brawlers they’d come up to him and invited him home still clear in his mind. The invite had pissed him off, but part of him had regretted not taking them up on the offer. They were beautiful, and he’d wanted them from the moment his gaze fell on them across the Brawlers’ barroom. His resolve quickly eroded the longer he was around them. They’d crashed out at his place the night of King and Linc’s wedding. He’d watched them sleep. Tucking the blankets around them every time they’d slipped. They’d been so beautiful cuddled up together, but so damn young.
They’d never want what he had in mind for them. Fuck, he didn’t even know what he wanted. His brain swirled in a chaotic maelstrom of fucking them into his mattress and also having them in his house—curled up with them on the couch. All that couple shit he’d avoided in the past.
Going home to an empty house killed him every night, and that hadn’t been an issue before. He hung around the station, made excuses to himself, but it all came down to he didn’t want to go home alone anymore. That meant giving in, but he had to be strong. The weight of the twenty-two-year age difference still caused him to feel like a dirty old man. There was almost the same difference in age between his friend Bull and the man’s husband, Gregory. If anything, Bull and Gregory proved it could work.
Ellison, Saint, was beautiful with an innocence that called to him. His baby blue eyes seemed to be haunted by a past no one talked about. Eric, Sin, always had an in your face attitude. Fearless, yet vulnerable at the same time. He wanted to take care of them. Make sure they were always happy and content. They were blond, blue-eyed and femme. His temporary partners in the past were as muscular and masculine as him. Sex always seemed like a fight for dominance.
He jumped as his phone rang. He tugged his from his pocket and connected the call. “Pelter.”
“Camden, must you always answer the phone that way. It doesn’t show proper breeding.”
He mentally groaned at his mother’s voice. Sheri Pelter was probably still in her business finery, perfect from her styled black hair to her thousand-dollar suit to her stilettos. She’d be sipping her pre-dinner martini and waiting on the housekeeper to set the table.
“Hello, Mother. I thought it was a work call. How are you and Father?”
His father probably had his secretary bent over his desk as he pounded one out before coming home. His mother didn’t care about his father’s affairs as long as they lived the perfect lie at the country club.
“He phoned to say he was just about to leave the office.”
Of course he did. Camden kept his snark in check. He promised himself to always be monogamous—he wouldn’t be like his parents.
“What do I owe for the unexpected call?”
“I know Christmas is months away, but I wanted to make sure that you would be home this year. I know you spent last year with Eugene.”
He bit his lip to keep from snorting at Scary being called Eugene. He’d mention that next time he saw his beast of a cousin. But the disgust in her voice tempered his amusement.
Over the years, he’d compared himself to his cousin. Camden’s father and Scary’s mother were half-siblings. Scary took after his mother, but Camden got his dark complexion from his mother. Everyone was shocked to find out they were related when he’d come to town. They really looked nothing alike.
“I don’t know. I’d have to make sure to have a replacement, and Wren has husbands and a family at home. The rest of the deputies do too.”
“They work for you, Camden. I expect you to come home. I’ll need you home early so that we’ll have time to fit you for an acceptable suit. Also, make sure you shave.”
He brought his hand up to tug at his long goatee. It was a leftover from his undercover days. He couldn’t remember the last time he was without facial hair. He’d also spent a months’ pay on the last suit he’d bought. After forty-five years, it didn’t come as a surprise his parents found him lacking since they had from him enlisting to taking a job as a small-town Sheriff.
“Could I bring a date?”
“Will your date be female?”
“You know it wouldn’t be.” He gritted his teeth and dropped his head back.
He’d come out the day before he’d enlisted. He was told they didn’t care who he fucked as long as he didn’t flaunt it, but he knew they expected him to bring home a wife and breed the next generation of Pelters.
“Then I’ll have to decline an invite of a guest.”
Wouldn’t his snobby mother love to know his current interest consisted of not one man but two? He could already anticipate the meltdown, she wouldn’t do it in public because that would be vulgar behavior, but she’d make him and his date or dates pay dearly behind closed doors. He was almost tempted to see if he could find a male date, maybe not the twins. Yet Little, one of Linus’ guys was a troublemaker, would jump at the chance to crash a country club Christmas dinner. The thought of it amused him more than it should and way too tempting.
“Yes, ma’am.”
He didn’t want to fight, so he let it go.
“Your father just arrived. I’ll let you return to your duties, and I expect you to inform me of when you’ll arrive for the holidays.”
She disconnected the call without a bye or an I love you. Camden shoved his phone back into his pocket. When he thought back on his life growing up, he couldn’t remember either of his parents saying they were proud of him or that they loved him. He’d received all that from his paternal grandmother. He missed her. She’d taken care of him and Scary. While Scary had a loving parent, all he’d had was disinterested ones, but a loving grandmother. She’d given him all the love he had ever needed until she was gone and he was back to being that ignored rich kid. Envied for what he had, but wouldn’t all those jealous fucks loved to have known just how miserable it was being him.