BURNING LUCK

Layla Dorine

Published by

Desolate Press

Osage, Iowa 50461

Copyright © 2017 Layla Dorine

This Book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, duplicated, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

Burning Luck Copyright © 2017 by Layla Dorine

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Cover Artist: Rue Volley

Edited by: Candi Coen Crossfactor Editing Services

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission of the author.

PROLOGUE

The writing on the door read, Joker’s Wild, scrawled over the face of a demonic looking jester spilling a handful of red and white dice into a black background; beneath the image were the words Rolling Jokers Motorcycle Club. Other than that, the building was non-descript. Brick sides with black paint over bubble windows covered by bars, it sat near the back end of an alley few ventured to, unless they had a reason, or an invitation. Inside, industrial metal pulsed out a hard rocking beat, thumping as steadily as a pulse. The grinding symphony was punctuated by the jangle of chains and the crack of a whip. A low moan followed, but then moans were common here, as were the clack of heels on stone flooring and the rustle of leather.

Kneeling on the floor in a corner, Lucky McAllister gazed up with boredom in his stunning sapphire eyes at the men who were gathered around him. The trio were pushing fifty, all going soft around the middle, and all staring down at him with nearly the same lascivious look in their eyes. One of them, Frank something or another, reached out to rub the very fake floppy ears he was wearing on his head and Lucky plastered on his best fake grin and gave a little wiggle. Of course that just made the stupid fake tail hanging from the end of the butt plug they’d pressed inside of him wag back and forth, prompting one of the other men to run a hand along his spine.

He had oversized fake paws covering his hands and feet, big, clumsy brown and white things that came up to his knees and elbows and looked like they belonged on some early morning kiddy show set. Still, he was lucky they hadn’t asked him to put on the full body costume; he’d worn it once and hated that damned thing. Plus it was hot as hell and it made him itch like crazy. It had been just his misfortune to arrive at the dungeon when he did, if he’d been just a few minutes later, Stavros might have directed them toward Luther instead of him.

Someone rubbed his hair and he wished he could bite them, but that would go against the rules of this little ‘game.’ Funny, he’d come here hoping for distraction, someone who could take him away from the thoughts in his head, and give him nothing but pleasure for a little while. Three someones had been a plus, at least when Stavros had pointed Lucky their way and told him they were looking for a bit of light fun. Okay so maybe it had been very greedy of him to jump at the chance as soon as he’d seen Luther stepping through the door, but god he hated that guy.

Even now, Lucky sent a glare in the direction of where Luther was shackled to the wall, the look on his face making Lucky hate him more. His head was thrown back in ecstasy, those stupid brown curls of his pressed to the gray stone behind him and even then it didn’t seem to crush them. Dez stood in front of him, shirtless in leather pants, all his impressive ink and muscles on display, a fact that just served to fuel Lucky’s jealousy. He’d been with Dez more than once, and the man was a fucking machine in the best possible way. He had a cock on him that would make a porn star jealous and the way he handled a belt…

Lucky closed his eyes and let out a groan at the memory, wiggling his ass and feeling the  plug shift inside of him as that stupid tail brushed against the back of his thighs. For a moment, it all faded as he recalled the heat of that belt against his bare flesh. Each crack of leather against skin had made him shiver as electric shocks of pleasure pain had radiated from his ass through the rest of his body. It had sucked riding his Triumph home from the dungeon that night, his own damned fault, really, Dez had asked him to stay, had tried to pull Lucky tight to him on the bed and cuddle him, but he’d made his excuses and fled.

He always fled.

Most people didn’t offer anyway, and that was good, because he never felt as if he needed it. Most times, he negotiated out of it if it was offered, grateful that the number who did was few and far between. Dez had tried to insist, his calloused fingers had slid gently over the welts on Lucky’s behind before he’d gripped Lucky’s hip and turned him on his side, stroked his hair back, told him he was stunning and kissed him gently. It was the gentle part that had pushed him to run and to avoid Dez the next time the man had approached him for a scene.

Someone ran fingernails over his scalp a little too hard and Lucky let out a hiss, his eyes popping open and scowling up at them.

“Hey, take it…” He started to protest, only to get smacked hard on the nose again. Furious he started to get up only to have Frank shove him back to his knees.

“What did I tell you about speaking?” Frank snapped.

Lucky would have laughed if he wasn’t so ticked off. The man’s attempt at authority sounded forced and all for show. Lucky glanced toward the bar, hoping to catch Stavros’ eye, but tonight’s Dungeon Master seemed pretty caught up in overseeing a whipping session going on at the pillory. That kind of play was a bit too hard core for Lucky’s taste, despite how bad he wished to be anywhere else in the club at the moment. Hell, at this point, even the bite of a single tailed whip might be better than this, and hadn’t Terry offered to give him a gentle taste if he ever wanted to try?

“I asked you a question,” Frank snapped, and Lucky looked up to see him frowning. Knowing this guy had done some favors for the MC the last thing Lucky wanted to do was piss him off. That would just lead to angering the prez again, and he hated it when Mark was furious with him.

“Woof. Woof, woof, woof,” Lucky responded, bringing a smile to Frank’s face as those damned ears flopped around again.

“There we go. Good puppy,” Frank said.

Lucky huffed and wiggled his rear, making the tail wag again even as his head still ached from Frank’s nails. One of the other guys seemed fascinated by the fake tail, given that he was constantly rubbing his hand over Lucky’s lower back and beneath the tail, stroking Lucky’s ass, but never quite doing enough to tease, or better still, cause pleasure. He wished they’d put a little pressure against the base of the tail, stroke it just the right way to make the plug move again. He needed something to distract him from the annoyance he was feeling.

If he’d known that this was what they were gonna want, he’d have been more than happy to let Luther play the puppy. He could have hooked up with Dez again for a night of spanking, sucking, and rough, wild fucking. He cast another envious glance in Luther’s direction, before the third man stepped directly into his line of sight, pants open. He had his cock out and was bouncing it in his hand, not like there was much to bounce. The thing was maybe four inches if he was lucky and that was him being generous at the moment.

“Does puppy want a treat?”

He’d rather not have any part of the rather unimpressive looking morsel, but again, that wasn’t part of the game so he yipped and barked as eagerly as he could manage, making the ears flop again and hoping they were hiding the fact that he was rolling his eyes.

“Such a good puppy,” the man crooned. He wasn’t sure who was more fake, the guy or himself at this point, but he wiggled his ass again to make the tail wag, accepted the pats to the head and the hand caressing his back, and opened his mouth to accept his ‘treat,’ knowing he was in for a long night and not in a good way.

CHAPTER ONE

“So that’s it then?” Mark Dobrowski asked as he rose to look at the two men seated across the table from him.

His old friend, Thornton ‘Thorn’ Philips and Thorn’s lover, Cain O’Shaughnessy, stood as well. Their eyes roved the room restlessly, all of them looking forward to getting out of this diner and back across town to their own territory. As president of the Rolling Jokers motorcycle club, Mark had come here this afternoon to cut the final ties between the club and the smuggling operation they’d gotten themselves entangled in. For three long years both the club charter there in Beaufort, and the one in the Outer Banks, had been transporting illegally salvaged items up and down the coast. While at times, it had been rather lucrative, Mark was looking at things from more than just a monetary standpoint these days. He was forty-eight-years-old, for crissake and had no desire to end up behind bars again. He’d had enough of that shit in his younger days and with all the gray hair his kids had given him over the years, he wasn’t sure he’d survive another stint in prison.

Besides, he’d never been a greedy man and the club had more than what it needed now and for many, many years to come. It was time to go back to being a legitimate group of guys who like to work on their bikes, ride them down the coast, and play in their dungeon at night. All that illegal transporting had equated to too many sleepless night and too many days on edge waiting for someone to fuck up and get caught. Mark just considered it lucky that none of them ever did. Keeping the younger members of the club out of it had likely contributed to that small bit of success. All of them had voted early in the deal that only the most senior members would be involved, though all would reap the benefits.

Now, as Mark reached across the table to shake hands with Santiago Ferrera one final time, it was with a sense of relief. He’d never fully trusted the man or his crew, and was more than glad to be done with them.

“Yeah, that’s it. I think it’s pretty fuckin’ stupid man, for you and your crew to be pulling out when the moneys still rollin’ in, really fuckin’ suspicious too, I better not find out you and your boys are movin’ stuff on your own or things won’t be so nice between us, ya feel me?” Santiago said as he gave Mark’s hand one quick, firm shake.

Mark looked him dead in his scowling black eyes and held his gaze. “Me and my boys have every intention of leaving the illegal shit to you. We’ve had enough of it. I trust the other issue has been squashed now as well?”

Santiago cut his gaze over to Cain and seemed to be assessing him for a moment, what with the way his eyes drifted from the top of his head to his feet and back again. He licked his lips and smirked when Thorn scowled at him and stood a little taller. At six foot six inches tall and built like he lived in the gym, he came across as intimidating whether he was trying to be or not, and at this moment, he was trying. Santiago glanced back at Mark and gave a nod.

“Suits me fine,” Santiago said, “but if he gets into any more trouble with King and his guys he’s on his own, ya feel me and all of yous are on your own with the Skulls.”

Mark inclined his head in agreement and glanced at the two men beside him. “Work for you, two?”

Thorn nodded, his gaze heavy and anger filled as he glared across the table, jaw clenched, lips pressed in a tight, thin line. A small tick was beginning, just over his eyes, but he held his position and said nothing.

“Wouldn’t have been no trouble in the first place if King had kept his nose out of our business,” Cain growled, his hands closing into fists. Only the hand that Thorn slapped on the back of his neck and how hard he squeezed kept him from saying something they all might regret.

“All right, I think we’re done here,” Mark lazily drawled as he kicked his chair back up under the table. When he turned to go, Thorn and Cain followed him, boots pounding a heavy beat as they practically marched out the door. Neither said a word as they climbed onto the backs of the three gleaming machines that awaited them, but when they parked outside of Joker’s Wild, Mark lit up a cigarette and motioned them both around to the side of the building.

As soon as they were out of sight from the street he exploded at Cain, cigarette bobbing inches from the shorter man’s face. “What the FUCK was that! After all the bullshit that Thorn and I got into because you couldn’t manage to keep yourself away from those damned shipwrecks in the first place, you nearly blow it by starting some last minute shit when we were a cunt hair away from being done with it all!”

“I fucked up,” Cain said, spreading his hands apart to show he was offering no excuses. “As soon as that slimy fuck started in about King I wanted to punch him in his smug fuckin’ face.”

Mark exhaled and took a step back, pacing a little. “There’s a time and place to be a hothead and there’s a time and place to keep your mouth shut. Thorn, I would have thought you’d have taught him that by now. Maybe it’s a good thing you guys are staying with the Outer Banks charter instead of transferring here. Living out in Kill Devil Hills should keep you both out of trouble, him especially.”

“I’m sorry, Mark, for all of it. I know how much shit the club had to deal with because I screwed up. I’m glad it’s over and I swear, from here on out everything I do will be on the up and up,” Cain said as he stared from the disappointed look on Thorn’s face to the annoyed one on Mark’s.

“It better be,” Mark told him sternly. “The club’s not bailing you out again either.”

“I know,” Cain said softly, looking at his feet.

Mark relaxed his stance and took a drag, glancing from one to the other. “That surf shop idea you guys had is a good one. I’ll put up the other half of the starter money you need, no need to pay it back until you’re ready. Until then, I’ll be a silent partner; just don’t let the temptation of being on the water all of the time lead you back into wreck diving or so help me…”

“I get it. I know. You’ll tie me to a rack and whip my ass until it bleeds,” Cain said softly.

“And not in a way you’ll like it,” Mark reminded him, prompting a low chuckle from Thorn who stepped in close to Cain.

“Now I, on the other hand, just might take a whip to your ass tonight,” Thorn growled in Cain’s ear, “in a way that’ll have you singing my praises for weeks.”

Cain shivered and closed his eyes, let his head tip back just enough to expose his throat. Thorn’s chuckle made goosebumps rise on his arms as he leaned in and bit Cain hard enough to leave an impression of his teeth. It drew a loud, rough groan from Cain, and an eye roll from Mark.

“Come on, let’s go inside before some damned cop drives by and thinks we’re dealing in the alley, or fucking,” Mark remarked as he finished his cigarette and tossed it to the side.

They followed him back around to the door. Mark shoved it open and inhaled deeply, loving the scent of leather and lube that filled the air. The music had a slow, shuffling beat at the moment, but Mark knew the song and knew the tempo would kick up in just a few seconds, bodies would start grinding against one another and before the end of the night loud grunts and moans would fill the air, drowning out the music. It was one of the many reasons he loved this place.

As they walked down the steps, Thorn’s eyes roved around the room, taking in several of the scenes taking place. There was a long haired brunette taking a cock in his mouth and a second in his ass while someone knelt in front of him sucking his dick. A fourth man tugged on his nipple rings and the brunette shook and shuddered hard. It brought a predatory smirk to Thorn’s face as the idea of taking on a third for the night cemented itself in his mind. It had been a long time since he and Cain had tag teamed anyone and he would love to have a nice, needy little thing to share between them.

Slinging his arm around Cain’s shoulders he tugged him close and nuzzled the place where his neck met his shoulder, licking over the teeth marks he’d left there and nipping at the spot lightly.

“Guess what I’m thinking about?” Thorn growled in his ear.

Cain shivered and went still, his eyes half closing. “Whipping my ass until I beg you to fuck me?” Cain said, his voice taking on a tone that was half question and half plea.

“Tempting, but more along the lines of fucking your ass while you fuck some nice little sub we’re gonna pick out.”

“Really?” Cain asked, sucking in a breath, his dick already going half-hard with anticipation.

Thorn chuckled at his response as he started to look around for just the right candidate.

“So what are you two gonna get into tonight?” Mark asked, as his eyes sought out his wife, Miranda, and their sub, Teddy, both of whom were behind the bar, pouring drinks and chatting up with friends and fellow members of the MC.

“Know anyone who’d be interested in being double teamed?” Thorn asked.

Mark halted his progress through the club and looked around, his eyes landing on Luther and immediately saw that he was being well taken care of by Dez. Good, that would keep him out of trouble for tonight, maybe longer. It was no secret within the MC that Dez had been looking to take on a sub full time. His first choice had been Lucky, but apparently he wasn’t interested, at least according to Dez who’d reported that all Lucky was interested in was a good time. At just barely twenty-one Lucky hadn’t been coming to the dungeon long and Mark knew he’d only started doing that in the hopes of escaping the realities of a dying old man. Poor kid. He’d been a good prospect, had grown up in the club just as Mark’s own sons had done. It had been a proud moment for all of them when they’d finally been patched in.

Speaking of Lucky, if a good time was what he wanted, then he might be exactly the right choice for Thorn and Cain tonight. Glancing around, his eyes sought out that impossible to miss mop of golden blond hair and finally landed on Lucky kneeling on the floor with a ridiculous pair of ears and paws on, not to mention that tail.

Mark scowled a bit as he studied Lucky more intently. His eyes seemed dead as he barked and then rolled over, presenting his belly to be rubbed by the men around him. Someone stroked his abs while someone else slid a hand lower; fondling him, but Lucky didn’t seem to be into it at all, if the current state of his cock was any indication. Rumor had it that the kid was attention starved and needy, but really shy about accepting any affection. He seemed to prefer pickup play where aftercare wasn’t offered unless it was negotiated for, and from all Mark had heard, Lucky never asked for it, not like the three men around him seemed likely to give him any. One of them was kneeling over him and actually jerking off his cock with one of the fake ears wrapped around it, aiming to shoot all over Lucky’s face from the looks of things.

Glancing over at Cain and Thorn, Mark suddenly had an interesting thought.

“How about I wrap you up a little present?” Mark offered. “You just have to promise you won’t unwrap him when you’re done.”

“Huh?” Cain asked. “Why would we want to do that?”

“’Cause rumor has it that he’s in need of attention and a whole lot more affection than he’s willing to let anyone give. He also looks bored as fuck with those idiots over there, who haven’t seemed to notice,” Mark said as he directed their attention toward Lucky.

Cain glanced over and wrinkled his nose. “Who the hell are they, anyway?”

“The guy in the two sizes two small black jeans who seems to be getting off rubbing his cock all over Lucky’s ears did a favor for Wreck and Stavros a few weeks back, this is apparently what they asked for in repayment.”

“What, the blond?” Thorn asked.

“Nope, a night at the dungeon. Guess Lucky just happened to wander through and make himself available.”

“So, what, you’re gonna take…what did you say his name was, Lucky? That’s a nickname right? You’re just gonna take Lucky away from them and they’ll be cool with it?”

“It’s my place, remember, and Lucky is a fully patched member of the Rollin’ Jokers, which means he also belongs to me. Truth is, I don’t like those guys too much, and Lucky clearly isn’t having fun and yes, his name is Lucky, Lucky Strike McAlistair, he’s Sidewinder’s son.”

“Awe hell, that old man is crazy! I’m not sure I really wanna be messing with his kid,” Thorn groaned, though the more he looked at Lucky, the more and more appealing messing with the kid was starting to be.

“He’s also dying, stomach cancer, it’s advanced into his bowels, so I doubt he’s got the energy to come hunt you guys down. Though if you hurt his son, Sidewinder will send Ray to make you regret it, so be warned. Your choice. If you want Lucky I’ll go get him and send him to shower, you can come find him in the chrome room in about twenty-five minutes. If not, keep looking around and see if anyone else interests you, though there aren’t many unattached subs down here tonight. Lucky just might be the only one left untaken,” Mark told them, anxious to get behind the bar and join Miranda and Teddy.

Cain shot Thorn a look that was all need and desire, licking his lips as he glanced back over at Lucky and already picturing himself buried in Lucky’s tight ass, his hands gripping Lucky’s shoulders as Thorn fucked him from behind, driving him even deeper into Lucky’s body. He imagined the sounds the golden haired young man might make, would they be loud and wild or soft whimpers and pleas? Cain couldn’t wait to find out.

“Go get Lucky Strike, we’ll take him for the night,” Thorn said, smirking at the look on Cain’s face.

With a curt nod, Mark headed over to where one of the men had Lucky begging for the next ‘treat,’ a purple dildo they were rubbing over his abs while a second man was slowly moving the plug in and out of Lucky’s body as Frank jacked away like crazy with the one floppy ear.

“I don’t know about you,” Thorn muttered, “but I’m looking forward to seeing what he looks like without all those stupid puppy pieces on.”

“I’m just looking forward to feeling his mouth wrapped around my cock and my hands buried in all that thick, long hair,” Cain muttered as he watched Frank drop the ear.

“Lucky, are you having fun? Come here, I want to talk to you a minute,” Mark said.

Thorn and Cain watched Lucky scramble to get to his feet, only to be shoved back to his knees by Frank.

“No one told you to speak,” Frank grumbled. “Barking only.”

Lucky pressed his lips closed tight, but looked up at Mark, warily.

Mark had his hands on his hips, glaring at Frank.

“Actually,” Mark informed them, his eyes narrowing. “I gave him permission to speak the moment I came over and asked him a direct question. Had he actually attempted to bark a response at me, Lucky knows he would have been in a great deal of trouble. As it stands, he’s no longer available for the evening.”

Mark turned, already beginning to walk away when he called out, “Lucky Strike, with me.”

He didn’t need to turn around to know that Lucky was right on his heels, he also knew the kid was disciplined enough not to say a word until Mark addressed him directly, which he did, but only once they were out of sight of the main part of the club.

“Why didn’t you safe word out if you weren’t having a good time? Looked to me like those guys weren’t interested in who they were petting and rubbing against as long as they were having their fun.”

“Didn’t wanna make trouble,” Lucky muttered, keeping his eyes on the ground.

Mark studied him for a moment, his head cocked to the side. He knew Lucky well, hell, Lucky was best friends with Mark’s youngest boy, Cody and he knew when both boys were being evasive and right now, Lucky was hiding something, big time. “There’s a big difference between letting someone know you’re not liking what they’re doing and causing trouble. If it’s not your thing, it’s not your thing. So what aren’t you sayin’?”

Lucky raised his head and grimaced a little. “After the first five minutes I tried to back out, but that Frank fucker just smacked me on the nose and said no talking. Later into it they were being a bit rough with the scratching, and I tried to say something again, but he reacted the same way,” Lucky admitted softly. “I looked around for Stavros to see if I could wave him down, but he was overseeing a scene, so…”

“So you, what, decided to wait around to see what else they were gonna do that you didn’t like? The moment he smacked you for trying to speak up was the moment you should have stood up and walked away. You should have gone to Stavros and told him that they were breaking the rules of the club by refusing to listen when you tried to tell them that they were doing things to you that you didn’t like.” Mark said as he rubbed his temples. “Kid, being a good sub doesn’t mean you have to accept anything and everything someone wants to do to you. It’s still your body. Still your choice.”

“Understood,” Lucky said, hanging his head again. “I just, I’d heard what they’d done for the MC and I didn’t want to mess anything up.”

Mark sighed and placed a hand on Lucky’s hair, ruffling it gently, before slipping his finger beneath the younger man’s chin and raising Lucky’s eyes up to meet his own.

“They are the ones that were messing up, not you. Just because you came here to have fun, doesn’t mean you have to like everything. What would you say if I told you I wanted to lock you in the pillory and take a cat of nine tails to you?”

Lucky froze, face paling, eyes widening, “B-but you know I don’t like them.”

“Exactly, and why do I know that?”

“’Cause we had a conversation about limits the first night I came down here, and you made sure I understood what all the toys and implements were.”

“Now tell me what kind of conversation you had with those three out there before things got started?” Mark asked patiently.

“Not very much of one,” Lucky had to admit.

“And that was your first mistake. You have to learn to negotiate for what you want, Lucky, especially with outsiders. Now, if you’re up for it, I have a few friends who I think will be far more enjoyable for you tonight. But if you want to go home, that’s okay too, it’s up to you.”

Lucky looked thoughtful. It was a bad night at home tonight, the Old Man had slept most of the day and his Pops was stressed out and snapping at him one minute and sobbing the next. Both of them knew that it was only a matter of time now before his Old Man passed away, but the stretch of watching him slowly succumb to his illness was killing them. All Lucky had wanted tonight was to feel pleasure and give up all control for a little while, let his body be manipulated until he was lost and flying in the sensations pure and utter bliss. He didn’t want to go home without it. Didn’t think he could make it through the night sane if he did.

“I want to stay,” Lucky admitted. “I’d like to spend time with your friends.”

“Good deal, I know you’ll enjoy them. Go grab a quick shower and meet me in the Chrome Room in ten.”

“Gotcha,” Lucky said and scurried off to do as he was told.

Mark headed to the Chrome Room and turned on the light, revealing the black walls adorned with nothing but shinny chrome accessories. There was a clock that looked like a hubcap, a large mirror with shinny chrome edges, chrome frames edging all sorts of posters and sayings, shiny chrome signs and all kinds of gizmos and gadgets shined up real nice just to give the room an added touch. He was pretty proud of the job Teddy had done on this room. In truth it was one of his favorites, though he was partial to the Crimson room over them all.

Stepping over to a shiny chrome cabinet, Mark opened it up and retrieved a black blindfold and a cellophane wrapped package of ear plugs and laid them on the bed along with a pair of padded cuffs. The keys he’d give to Thorn, so Lucky wouldn’t be locked in one position, but it seemed like what he needed tonight was to surrender all control. Plus with his hands cuffed to the headboard he wouldn’t be able to take the blindfold off himself if his curiosity got the better of him. More than to give up control, Mark was fairly certain he needed what came later. The aftercare he didn’t seem willing or able to allow any Dom to give. At least with Thorn, Mark could be certain that Lucky wouldn’t get away with any of that tonight.

When Lucky returned, he was wrapped in a fluffy black bathrobe with an equally fluffy towel around his hair that he was rubbing vigorously. When his eyes landed on the bed and what Mark had laid out there, they visibly brightened and a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Damn, but Lucky Strike was too good looking for his own good and it was only the fact that he knew how his son felt about him that had kept Mark from sampling the young man himself. Well that and the fact that his wife and his sub would conspire to kill him and dump the body somewhere only a coyote would ever find.

Lucky approached the bed and started peeling the bathrobe off, the towel having already been cast aside.

“Leave it on for now,” Mark instructed, “let them unwrap you.”

“Why?” Lucky asked curiously. “Won’t that just waste time and get in the way?”

“Don’t know who you’ve been spending time with, but you need to start spending less time with them and more time with people who are actually going to take their time with you and make you feel something besides just the rush of getting off.”

Lucky blushed a little. “Dez did, it was…different.”

Mark raised an eyebrow and studied the flushed look to Lucky’s face. “Different good or different bad?”

“Really, really good.” Lucky said, his eyes having brightened a bit more. His tongue poked out to lick his lower lip and the smile on his face just seemed to deepen the more he thought back to those encounters.

“That’s what it’s supposed to be like, and that’s what you can expect tonight. So tell me something, if you liked it so much, why have you been avoiding Dez?”

“I—” Lucky stammered and then looked away.

“Uh-huh,” Mark replied. “Behave yourself tonight, but make no mistake, we will have a conversation later.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good, now let them take their time unwrapping you. Let yourself just feel. The blindfold is so you don’t get skittish with them when they try to cuddle and care for you. You need to learn to accept that part of things. You need it,” Mark told him. “Now sit down, let me braid your hair back so it doesn’t get in the way of this.”

Lucky did as he was told, fidgeting a little as Mark swept his wet hair back, grabbed a brush from the bedside table and gave it a few strokes before quickly putting a tie in it and braiding it, quick and neat.

He tied off the end, and then knelt in front of Lucky. “These guys know the rules, if you don’t like something, anything, you speak up, got it?”

“Got it,” Lucky said as Mark unwrapped the earplugs and handed them one at a time to him.

“How am I supposed to respond to them with these in?” Lucky asked as he rolled them around in his hand for a minute.

“You won’t have to. They’ll guide you with their hands, their mouths, the way they touch you. Just relax and feel and you’ll know exactly what to do. If you get too overwhelmed by the loss of hearing and sight, remember that yellow means pause and use it, they’ll give you time to adjust and decide if you wish to continue.”

“Okay,” Lucky said as he slipped the first earplug in.

“What’s your safe word?” Mark asked before Lucky could put the second plug in.

“Unlucky,” he replied then inserted it.

***

Once they were in, everything was muted, like trying to listen underwater, but much, much fainter. Even the music was so distorted that there was no way Lucky could make out the song. He smiled and saw Mark nod then reach for the blindfold and gesture for him to move up higher on the bed. Lucky did as instructed and soon found himself in the dark, with his arms stretched over his head and his hands cuffed to the headboard. He could only imagine how he looked, laid out like an offering.

His nose twitched when a faint scent reached him and he realized that Mark must be lighting the dozen large coffee scented candles that decorated the room. He sighed and inhaled deeply, the aroma surrounding him helped him relax even more. The bed was way more comfortable than kneeling on stone and he hoped whoever Mark sent in would really touch him this time, instead of being content to receive blow jobs or use his body to jack off on. He wanted to feel hands caressing his cock and fingers sliding inside of him, prepping him to take something larger. He wanted to be taken fast and rough, hard enough to chase every thought from his mind; brutal enough to find oblivion.

***

With one last glance at the bound and blindfolded Lucky, Mark slipped out of the room. Judging from the way the robe had started to rise, Lucky had already been getting into the spirit of things. In the hall, he saw Cain and Thorn rapidly approaching and met them a few feet away from the room.

“His safe word is Unlucky, but I doubt he’s gonna need it with you two. Have fun, I gotta go throw an asshole out of my club.”

“What’s going on,” Thorn asked, as Cain moved to step around them and go to the room.

“Lucky tried to safe word out of that little mess out there and the guy smacked him on the nose and ignored him,” Mark informed them. “He didn’t want to make a scene, so he stuck it out. Just, show him a good time tonight and remember what I said, don’t take his blindfold off, he’ll get skittish on you and bolt without any aftercare at all if you do. He’s got earplugs in too, if it’s too much for him to handle, take ‘em out, but I think he’ll do just fine with touch alone. Here’s the cuff key, have fun.”

And with that Mark strode away.

***

Cain watched him go, scowling until Thorn gripped the back of his neck and drew his attention back to him.

“Not our problem, not our circus to fix,” Thorn reminded him. “We’ve got our own date with fireworks right behind that door.”

“Yeah, still…”

“Leave off, Cain, Mark will handle it. You know that. Don’t go out there looking to spoil his fun, or ours.”

Cain had to chuckle at that, then he and Thorn were headed to the shiny silver door that marked the Chrome Room.

“Holy shit,” Cain muttered as he stepped inside and his eyes landed on Lucky. The candles were throwing flickers of light and shadows all over the bound man on the bed, making his hair glitter and shine. He seemed small in that black robe, but utterly relaxed, waiting…and eager if the tenting to the robe was any indication.

“This is gonna be a good night.” Thorn chuckled as he locked the door behind him and stripped, his clothes landing in a disorganized tangle beside the door.

Cain was only slightly neater, and soon both men were approaching the bed and the black robed figure who awaited them. Thorn reached out first and slid a finger between the seam of the robe, running it lightly from Lucky’s throat down to his abs, clearly loving the smooth, hairless feel of Lucky’s chest and the ridges of his abdominal muscles. Licking his upper lip he parted Lucky’s robe, revealing one of the most amazing six packs they’d ever seen. Thorn apparently couldn’t resist drawing his fingers in a slow caress over each and every ridge, feeling Lucky tense at the first caress and then shiver slightly as Cain pulled the robe open on the other side, revealing more of his skin.

“He’s stunning,” Cain breathed as he leaned over enough to lap at one of Lucky’s pierced nipples. He was rewarded with a low moan and a deep, pleased sigh.

“Responsive too,” Thorn chuckled as he leaned down to lick his way down Lucky’s abs, clearly loving the way the young man gasped and flexed his muscles.

Cain caressed the twisted tree trunk that was tattooed on Lucky’s side, the branches hugging his ribs and filled with several leering crows. “God, look at this ink.”

Thorn paused his licking to examine the tattoo, before turning his attention to tracing it with his tongue, making Lucky gasp and moan.

***

Lucky was in heaven. The first touch had been hot, the second had made him shiver, then he felt a warm tongue and holy shit, there were two of them. Someone ran a fingertip up his side while someone else nipped the side of his neck. Wiggling a little he moaned again, pressing into fingertips and tongues.

Someone licked his inner thigh and Lucky spread his legs and wiggled as a second tongue trailed down the middle of his chest. Fingertips slid up his sides, then brushed over both nipples, and Lucky moaned, then groaned loudly when both nipple rings were gently tugged. A warm mouth closed over one, lavishing attention over the pebbled nub, while the other was stroked and teased, the ring tugged occasionally, making him arch up into the hungry mouth.

A second set of fingers stroked up his thighs, followed by a warm, wet tongue and teeth that nipped light enough to send shivers of anticipation through his body. When those same fingers brushed over his balls, Lucky whined, tossing his head as they were cupped and gently rolled.

When someone licked the underside of his cock, Lucky groaned and lifted his hips, begging for more attention. What he got was a hand on his head and someone trying to guide him, but he could only lift up so much with his hands cuffed the way they were.

Whoever these guys were, they seemed to sense that right away, as the next thing Lucky knew the cuffs were being undone and he was being guided to a more upright position. The robe was slid down his arms and off his body, too, nips, licks and kisses trailing over the flesh the fabric revealed.

***

“Holy—” Thorn breathed.

“Shit,” Cain finished for him as the huge tattoo that spanned Lucky’s back was revealed to them.

“This had to take a serious amount of hours,” Thorn remarked as he dragged his finger over Lucky’s back.

***

Lucky shivered when someone began caressing his tattoo and pride surged through him, because he knew that the work was impressive. Mark had spent several long sessions putting that joker face on his back and making the dice look like they were exploding. The year the club had been established was on a rocker with the words Rolling Jokers while the bottom rocker had Lucky’s name and the year he’d been patched in. Several cards rounded out the scene, each representing a card in the dead man’s hand. Lucky had drawn the whole image himself, and he loved showing it off. Someone licked a trail down his spine, and his arms were gently pulled behind his back before he was cuffed again.

***

“He’s got another one here too,” Thorn remarked, drawing Cain’s attention to the three skulls on Lucky’s shoulder that spilled down his arm, all in black and gray, each unique, almost as if they resembled a person.

“Looks like Mark’s work, all of it,” Cain said as he slid his fingers up Lucky’s thigh.

“Maybe, but the only work I’m interested in right now, is what I plan to do to him,” Thorn said huskily.

Thorn took a moment to step back and really look down at Lucky now that his entire body had been revealed. Even by candlelight, his skin looked sun kissed and his hair looked like it was dusted with tiny sparkles of light. Thorn wished he could see his eyes, watch his expression as he and Cain took him apart and made him soar, he had no doubt they’d be beautiful, wild and expressive, too bad he knew better than to disregard Mark’s warning.

***

“I want his mouth,” Cain muttered as he gave one of the nipple rings a gentle tug. Lucky growled and Cain tugged again, making him whine this time.

“Go for it, I have other things in mind,” Thorn replied as he slotted himself between Lucky’s spread legs and ran his tongue from his knee to the top of his thigh, nuzzling his sack before licking over it, making Lucky moan.

Cain teased one pebbled nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger, enjoying the sight of Lucky gasping and groaning, his upper lip a little swollen from the way he nipped at it when he was trying to stifle his moans. Cain didn’t want them stifled; he wanted to hear them and any other sounds he could wring out of Lucky, but first….

Cain tugged both rings a little harder this time, and wrung a loud gasp from Lucky. With his mouth open wide, Cain guided the tip of his hard cock to Lucky’s mouth and rubbed it lightly over his lower lip, eyes going half lidded when Lucky flicked his tongue out and licked over him.

Thorn watched Lucky use his tongue to explore Cain’s length and width, he looked shocked that Cain never had to guide the younger man’s head or draw him closer to encourage him.

Lucky seemed to have taken his cue from their treatment of him, and took his time exploring. He licked a circle around the head of Cain’s cock and lapped over the slit before leaning forward and sliding just the head of Cain’s cock in and out of his mouth several times, a fact that was slowly driving Cain mad. Just when he thought he was going to have to be the one to move things along, Lucky sucked him in deeper, sliding it in and out of his mouth and swirling his tongue around it until Cain was gasping and putting his hands on Lucky’s shoulders in order to steady himself.

“God he’s so, so good,” Cain groaned as Lucky took him deeper and hummed. “Oh. Holy. Shit!”

Lucky whined, loud around the cock in his mouth, lower body squirming a little as Thorn circled a slick finger around his opening. He hummed again and Cain growled, hand coming to rest lightly on Lucky’s head as Thorn breeched Lucky gently, the younger man trying to buck his hips up to take more. Thorn chuckled low in response and withdrew the finger, letting Lucky settle down some and take more of Cain’s cock in his mouth before he pressed his finger inside him again. This time, when Lucky whined, Cain threw his head back and muttered a low curse.

***

“God you’re both beautiful,” Thorn growled, as he watched Cain shake and try and rein himself in by drawing back from Lucky a little. Reaching up, he ran his fingertips down Cain’s spine and urged him back into the depths of Lucky’s warm, wet mouth. He waited until Lucky had more than half of Cain’s cock in his mouth to plunge two fingers back into Lucky, hitting his sweet spot dead on and drawing a whining moan from Lucky, which brought a shaky groan from Cain.

Chuckling, Thorn did it again, matching time to the blow job Lucky was giving even when Cain grabbed Lucky’s shoulders and started fucking his face. Crying out loudly, Cain came, hard, one hand gripping the headboard, the other clutching Lucky’s long braid. Thorn watched Lucky’s body shudder, letting out a loud growl that escaped around Cain’s cock, then Lucky was coming too.

It took all of Thorn’s self-control not to stroke himself off and join them, especially as they eased apart and both fought to catch their breath. He watched as Cain leaned in and kissed Lucky, then pressed their foreheads together, despite the fact that the kid couldn’t see or hear them. For a moment, it seemed as if they were breathing for each other, until they slowly came down and Cain reached a fumbling hand to find the cuff key.

“I’ve got it,” Thorn said, as he moved from between Lucky’s legs, retrieved the key and undid the cuffs. Cain was no longer straddling Lucky, but had moved off to the side, and as soon as Thorn released Lucky’s arms, Cain turned Lucky toward Thorn and pulled the smaller man into an embrace, spooning up behind him.

Thorn slid into the space in front of Lucky, pressing his body tight to his warm, naked front. For several minutes, he simply enjoyed the opportunity to stroke and caress Cain and Lucky, and Lucky, free to touch now, hesitantly reached out, almost as if he was afraid of making contact. Thorn easily shoved aside any confusion Lucky might have had by catching his wrists and tugging his hands forward, placing Lucky’s hands on his chest and shoulder and giving him free reign to explore as well.

God, Thorn found his eyes widening at the way Lucky used his fingertips to slide it along his skin, taking his time, even while he pressed into Thorn’s touch eagerly. Needy, the word popped into Thorn’s head the moment Lucky started angling his body to actively seek out different touches. His eyes met Cain’s over Lucky’s shoulder and they both grinned and went to work giving Lucky everything he wanted.

Later, laying in a sated tangle of arms and legs, Thorn continued to stroke his fingers down Lucky’s arm, a lazy gesture, but one that had seemed to calm him as he’d curled up to Cain and wrapped himself around the other man in a way that had left Thorn just a little bit envious. Pulling the blanket up around them, he rested his head against Lucky’s back, already formulating a plan for when they could meet up with him again.

CHAPTER TWO

“Hey!” Mark yelled over the noise of the animated conversation going on beside the bar.

Thorn lifted his chin in acknowledgement and headed Mark’s way, Cain at his side, a manila envelope tucked beneath his left arm.

As they reached the bar, Mark set a couple of beers down in front of them and leaned against the black padded railing. “Didn’t expect you guys until tomorrow.”

Thorn raised the beer in salute, then took a long chug. “Thanks. Decided to knock off early, wait until the paint was dry before we started assembling the shelves.”

“So it’s coming along, then, no problem with the licenses or anything?”

“Nope. It’s all good brutha, we’ll be up and running by the end of the month. Brought you copies of everything so Pope could file them with the rest of the business shit.”

Mark wiped his hands on the rag hanging from his waist and reached out to take the envelope Cain slid over, grinning, when he followed the path of Cain’s gaze to where Lucky sat at the far end of the bar, alone and nursing a beer that looked to have gone warm.

“I’ll make sure he gets it,” Mark said as he tucked it beneath the bar. “Is there anything else I can get you two? Maybe something blond, ripped, and moody?”

Thorn raised an eyebrow, and Mark jerked his head in Lucky’s direction and watched as Thorn glanced between Cain and the young man they’d played with the month before, a slow smirk sliding across his face.

He leaned against Cain, bumping shoulders with him to get his attention before lightly biting his ear. “You wanna play with him again?”

“Can we?” Cain asked, as Mark leaned back and watched the dynamic between them slowly play out.

Thorn was dominant, aggressive and rarely ceded control to anyone. Cain on the other hand, while content to submit to Thorn, had a dominant side he liked to let out every now and again, making it a rather interesting experience to witness when they chose a third. A part of him wished he’d stuck around the Chrome room and watched them play with Lucky, he’d have loved to see how the kid responded to them.

Maybe tonight, if he could slip away for a little while…

“Something wrong with that spot that the rest of us can’t see?”

Thorn’s words shook Mark out of his thoughts and brought his attention to the rag he was vigorously wiping the counter with. Shaking his head, he dropped it in the tub of dirty ones near his feet, and pulled a clean one from the drawer beside the resister.

“Nope.”

“Then you gonna answer the question, or you lookin’ for something else to clean?”

Mark stared at Thorn for a moment, unwilling to admit that he hadn’t heard what the hell his friend had asked him.

“Uh-huh,” Thorn chuckled and finished his beer.

“Fine, what?”

“Was wondering if you wouldn’t mind wrapping Lucky Strike up for us again, if he wants to play.”

“I think it can be arranged. On one condition.”

Thorn arched an eyebrow at him and Mark grinned as he licked his lower lip. “I want to watch.”

Cain jerked his head to look over at him, mouth falling open a bit as Thorn chuckled.

“That alright with you?” Thorn asked Cain.

“Oh yeah.”

Thorn chuckled. “That settles that.”

With a nod, Mark inclined his head toward the dungeon behind them. “Take a hike, I’ll come find you both if he says yes.”

“Works for me, I can think of plenty of ways to get warmed up.”

A wicked gleam filled Thorn’s eyes, and Mark smirked as he watched his friend throw an arm around Cain and lead him to an empty bench near the corner.

Tapping Teddy on the shoulder, Mark took a moment to haul him into a kiss before directing him toward the register. “I’m gonna take a break.”

“Yes, Sir,” Teddy replied, his gaze heated.

Mark slapped him soundly on his half bare bottom before heading over to where Lucky sat and dropped onto the stool beside him, nudging him with his shoulder. “How you feeling tonight?”

“Not really in the mood to get drunk,” Lucky muttered as he turned his half empty bottle around on the bar.

“Yeah, I can see that. Kind of a waste of a good beer.”

“Ech.”

“How are things at home, how’s Sidewinder doing?”

Lucky sighed and raked his fingers through his hair. “He’s not eating shit, ‘cept broth and shit Pops runs through the food processor for him. Clothes are starting to get looser on him and he’s been getting tired more.”

“Damn, kid, that’s tough. I’ll come by to see him tomorrow, I miss seeing that old bastard up at the main house.”

“I miss him, period.”

“Yeah. I know you do. Not gonna get any easier though.”

“I know.”

“So if you weren’t looking to get drunk, why’d you drop in here for tonight?”

“Was hoping Dez would be around.”

Mark gave him a knowing smile. “He’s in Raleigh, working on some shit I sent him to look into.”

“Oh.”

“I think I can help you, if you’re looking to play tonight. Remember those friends of mine who were up here last month?”

For the first time since he’d sat down, Lucky looked over at him, interest brightening his brilliant blue eyes. “The ones you blindfolded me for?”

“Those would be the ones. They’re back and they want to play with you again, if you’re up for it.”

Lucky smiled and it lifted some of the doom cloud that had been shadowing his face. “Hell yeah!”

“Perfect, I’ll let them know.”

“Mark?”

“Yeah kid?”

“Do they play with ropes?”

Now it was Mark’s turn to grin. “They can if you want them to.”

The enthusiastic nodding of Lucky’s head was all the confirmation Mark needed.

“Another thing you need to know though,” Mark said as he began to get up off the stool. “I told them I wanted to watch them with you.”

Lucky’s mouth fell open a little, even as his eye lit up just a little bit more.

“You okay with that?”

“Oh yeah,” Lucky breathed, sliding off of his own stool as well.

“Well come on then, let’s get you ready for them,” Mark said before walking Lucky to the Crimson Room.

Like before, he handed Lucky ear plugs, and this time, instead of braiding Lucky’s hair back, he left it down, though he was careful not to get the blindfold caught in it when he tied it securely around Lucky’s eyes. He left his hands unbound though, knowing they would end up tied later, lit the cinnamon scented candles and returned to the main part of the dungeon to find Thorn sitting on the bench with Cain across his lap, his fingers lightly tracing the red handprints clearly visible there.

Mark paused for a moment to take in the blissful look on Cain’s face, and the way Thorn grinned just a little before delivering another smack. “He’s ready. He had a request for tonight, though.”

“Really?”

From the way that Thorn drew out the word, Mark could tell that his curiosity had been raised.

“Yup. He wants to play with ropes. He’s looking to get tied up and fucked stupid.”

Twin grins crept across Cain’s and Thorn’s faces at hearing that.

“Now that we can do,” Thorn said, nudging Cain, who stood and fixed his jeans. “Grab my bag.”

***

With Mark watching from the corner, lazily stroking his cock, that was exactly what they did. Once Lucky had been blindfolded by Mark and had the earplugs in to keep him from hearing what was going on around him, Thorn set about tantalizing him with the rope, as Cain stepped back and watched as well. Patting his back pocket, Thorn assured himself that he had both his medical scissors and backup knife ready before he began.

Naked, Lucky was seated in the center of the bed, his hair loose tonight. Grinning, Thorn climbed up on the bed behind him, a length of rope in the hand that he brushed across Lucky’s chest, making him shiver.

Lightly, with just the end of an end, Thorn ran the rope down Lucky’s arm and watched the goosebumps he raised. Lucky let out a soft sigh as Thorn caressed his cheek and the side of this neck with the soft fibers. Lucky cocked his head to the side, exposing more of his throat, which Thorn nipped, then bit, hard, drawing a long, low whine from Lucky.

“Such a beautiful boy,” Thorn purred, hating that Lucky couldn’t hear him.

Slowly, Thorn gathered a fistful of Lucky’s hair in his hand and jerked, making him arch backward, the long expanse of his neck unprotected. Thorn drew the rope across it, then down between his pecs, over his abs, before letting it slip across his cock, Making Lucky shiver with anticipation.

Chuckling, Thorn moved, touching Lucky only with the rope as he circled him. Drawing it over his thighs, down his arm, across his shoulder, and up the middle of his back, while Lucky pressed against it, clearly wanting to feel as much of it as he possible could.

With his tongue poking out from between his lips, Thorn was the picture of concentration as he wound the rope around Lucky’s wrist and tied the first knot. Using the rope, he drew Lucky’s arm backward, even as he pressed him to lay on his side with his back to Cain and Mark, knowing it would give them the best view imaginable of what he had planned for Lucky.

“Gonna have so much fun with you,” Thorn murmured as he stroked a hand along Lucky’s leg before catching his ankle and drawing it upward, tucking Lucky’s knee to his chest. He tied the second knot then, connecting Lucky’s ankle to his wrist, before he wound the rope around Lucky’s arm and leg, binding the knee in place.

Lucky groaned as the rope was tugged upward even more, exposing his hole to the cool air of the room. Chuckling, Thorn paused and blew warm air over it, just to watch it clench and watch Lucky squirm.

In the corner, Mark was stroking himself, lazy and slow as he watched the slow reveal of Lucky’s body. Cain was in much the same shape, kneeling to get a better view as he stroked himself. Thorn brought the end of the rope up and dragged it over the curve of Lucky’s ass before tickling his balls with it and making him pant.

Chuckling, Thorn did it again, bringing the rope up between Lucky’s crack and watching as he rocked against it.

“I’ll be giving you so much more than a rope there,” Thorn growled as he brought the rope to Lucky’s free wrist, and binding it to the first one. He tied it off securely, then pulled a second length of rope from his bag, shorter, but just as soft. This one he used to secure Lucky’s free leg flat to the bed, by tying it securely to the footboard.

Lucky whined, wiggled, but there wasn’t much room for him to move, and Thorn patted his hip, checked the way the ropes were pressing into Lucky’s skin and satisfied that it wasn’t hurting him or pinching him in any way, he opened the drawer beside the bed and studied what was inside, finally selecting a large, purple dildo and unwarping it from the pack. Grinning, he rubbed it along Lucky’s body, slowly working his way up to Lucky’s lips and running the tip over them. He clearly got the point and stuck out his tongue, licking the plastic almost obscenely before opening his mouth and allowing Thorn to slide it in. It stretched his lips wide, by the noises he was making in the back of his throat had both observers stroking themselves just a little bit faster.

“Oh you know where this is going,” Thorn said, all of his attention centered on Lucky.

Lucky licked and slurped, sucking the purple cock as Thorn worked it in and out of his mouth until it was dripping. With his free hand, he reached for the bottle of lube on the end table, pumping the top to dispense some. With his hand coated, he drizzled it along the crack of Lucky’s ass, before working it inside of Lucky with his fingers while Lucky whined and pressed backwards, trying to get more.

“I’ll give you plenty,” Thorn said as he moved the dildo from Lucky’s lips, to his ass and slowly rubbed it along his pucker.

Gently, Thorn slowly began to press it against Lucky’s hole, loving the way he groaned and tried to press backwards to take it. Thorn wanted him to take it slow, though, enjoying the slow stretch as it opened Lucky up. He could hear Lucky’s breathing pick up as he was penetrated, loving the way he gasped and shuddered once the head popped in.

Thorn couldn’t help reaching up and caressing Lucky’s cheek. “God, you’re gorgeous.”

Another inch, another whine, the slow press of the rubber cock as it disappeared inside Lucky’s body. Gasps gave way to moans and the occasional curse as Thorn drew it out, then pressed it back in deeper. Slowly at first, then building until he was fucking Lucky on the toy with enough force that it made him plead and beg to come. Only then did Thorn shove it in deep and turn it out, letting the vibration draw a long serious of curses and shudders from Lucky until he spurted all over his chest.

By that point, there was nothing lazy about the way Mark and Cain were stroking themselves, the sound of their breathing ragged as they came too. Chuckling, Thorn spared them only the briefest glance before he set about untying Lucky. The night was still young and there were still many more games to play.

***

“He’s addicting,” Cain admitted after the fifth night they’d spent with Lucky. It was starting to get a little costly to make the trip so soon on the heels of the previous one, but neither of them was willing to stay away any longer than they absolutely had to, so every other Friday night they’d drive down and head straight to the dungeon to find Mark so he could set them up with Lucky. On Saturdays they’d hang around the clubhouse for the day, shoot the shit, have some drinks, and work on their bikes a little before heading to the Dungeon with Mark and some of the others. Lucky always seemed to wander in about an hour after it opened, wearing faded blue jeans that fit him like a second skin and a t-shirt that molded to his shoulders and abs.

Each time, Mark would be the one to approach Lucky for them, find out what he was up to for the night, blindfold him and set him up in a room with earplugs in to keep the sounds muffled, and each time it was getting harder to leave all of that shit on. Tonight, Lucky lay between them, cuddled to Thorn with his head on the big man’s shoulder and one leg draped over one of Thorn’s. The stupid blindfold was still in place, and Thorn found himself wishing they could take it off, but according to Mark, Lucky, didn’t even allow those he knew to hold him after a scene, which was a shame, because Thorn was coming to enjoy holding Lucky.

Sliding his fingers through Lucky’s hair, Thorn couldn’t help but smile at the soft humming noise he made, followed by a soft, contented sigh as he cuddled close. Closing his eyes, Thorn let his thoughts slip back to a recent conversation with Mark regarding Lucky.

“It’s not like he plays very often anymore, not even quick pick up scenes,” Mark admitted. “He’s mostly been helping Teddy keep the rooms stocked and working back here behind the bar. I can always tell when he’s restless though, that’s when his eyes start roving around the room and he seeks out someone. You ask me, and I know you didn’t, but oh well. I think he’s hanging around here waiting on you two.”

“You know we’d be up here more often if we could,” Thorn had reminded him.

“I know, I’m just telling you what I see is all,” Mark had chuckled and then been on his way.

“He’s gorgeous when he sleeps,” Cain murmured sleepily, snapping Thorn’s thoughts back to the present.

“Yeah, he is,” Thorn admitted, smiling a bit when Lucky grumbled in his sleep at the feel of Cain shifting positions behind him. “I enjoy watching him.”

“So do I. I’m coming to hate that this is the only place we can see him,” Cain admitted.

“For now,” Thorn said, contemplating an idea that at the moment, seemed too far-fetched to ever work.

CHAPTER THREE

“Let those who are born of earth return to the earth, the ashes and dust of their bodies enveloped back into the Mother’s arms. May the soul be at peace and the final journey be a swift one, for our path together here may be at an end, but time brings all spirts back together again. Until then, may the road be swift and winding before you, may the wings of crows forever guard your back and may you feast and revel with the ancestors of old until such time as we all might join you. Ride free, my brother,” Mark said, his voice thick with emotion as he stood beside Sidewinder’s grave.

Cain and Thorn watched from among the Outer Banks members of the club, dismayed that it put them so far from Lucky, though it wasn’t as if either one of them would be able to comfort him. There’s was a passing acquaintance around the bonfire and the occasional club event, the younger ones tending to gravitate together, away from the older generations.

For the past four months, Cain and Thorn had traveled down every other weekend, spending Friday, Saturday and occasionally Sunday nights with Lucky in the bed with them in one of the rooms at the Dungeon. The frequency of the trips was running them both ragged, but they’d come to look forward to their time with him way too much to draw it out any longer. Occasionally he hadn’t showed and Mark had been quick to inform them that it was because Sidewinder had been in the hospital or had a particularly bad day, but most times, he’d been there at least one of the nights, and eager to join them.

If this were a normal relationship they’d have been able to put their arms around Lucky, comfort him, stand there with him while he stared into the hole that held his father; a hole a tired, haggard looking man was now tossing a handful of dirt in. Thorn barely recognized Ray, Lucky’s other father. It had been over a year since he’d seen him last. Sidewinder’s illness had occupied any free time the man might have had, meaning he was generally absent from the clubhouse. Lucky followed and tossed in a fist full of dirt as well, but instead of turning away and trudging toward the row of waiting bikes the way Ray did, he shoved his hands in his pockets and simply stood, head down, while everyone filed past, took a handful of dirt, and tossed it into the grave.

Slowly, the line moved. Thorn heard Cain’s sharp intake of breath as they got close to Lucky, caught sight of the way his fingers flexed as if he itched to reach out and place that hand on Lucky’s shoulder and turn him into a hug.

Thorn nudged Cain’s arm and quickly shook his head at him. Here wasn’t the time or the place. They took their handfuls of dirt and dropped them in the grave, offering condolences they couldn’t even be sure that Lucky heard. He never moved, never acknowledged anyone and never turned his eyes away from the hole even after everyone but Cody had filed passed. Silent, Mark’s youngest son stood by his best friend’s side as tears fell from the sky, the cold drizzling of rain slowly beginning to soak them.

From the tree line, near the bikes, Cain and Thorn stood beside Mark, watching the pair beside the grave. They witnessed Cody placing a gentle hand on his friend’s back and Lucky turning toward him and all but falling into his arms. They saw Cody stagger a little beneath Lucky’s weight, then grip him firmly and hold him close as he finally dissolved into tears.

“Fucking hell,” Mark said softly as he lit a cigarette.

“My words exactly,” Thorn muttered, none of them saying much more as they lingered, keeping watch until Cody was able to lure Lucky away from the grave. The sky really opened up then, soaking them all as they took to the winding road. It was a miserable way to end a sendoff to a much beloved old friend.

***

“Come on, we’re going to the movies.”

Lucky groaned and jerked the blanket back up over his head, praying Cody would just go away and leave him alone.

“I said get up, asshole,” Cody ordered, jerking the blanket out of Lucky’s hands. Groaning, Lucky groped for a pillow, but Cody was quicker and snatched it off the bed as well.

“Why don’t you just shoot me and bury me on an ant hill, I’m sure that will be just as much fun as dragging me out to the mall to see a movie.”

“Stop being a drama queen and get your ass out of bed before I’m tempted to spank it, and fuck it raw, which will make watching the movie kinda uncomfortable for you.”

Growling, Lucky sat up.  “You’re a dick, you know that?”

“Yup, now move.”

Muttering curses beneath his breath, Lucky grabbed a pair of jean and a t-shirt from his dresser and stomped off to take a shower, leaving Cody to lean against his desk, flipping through a graphic novel as he waited for Lucky to return.

“So what are we going to see?” Lucky asked when he emerged fifteen minutes later, towel drying his hair.

“There’s one of those haunting stories, an action movie with a ton of explosions, some spy thing, and another natural disaster movie where Mother Nature goes on the rag and fucks everything up.”

“Yeah, the last one, and the explosions too, might as well see both, since you’re making me move,” Lucky told him.

“Hey man, you needed to get out of that bed. You’re scaring everyone, ya know. I mean, it’s shit, what happened to your old man, but no one wants to see you make yourself sick over it. You need to get out of here and remember that there’s a whole world beyond these walls.”

“And it can kiss my ass for all I care,” Lucky grumbled. “Promise me one thing, will ya, no more fuckin’ philosophy outta you for the day.”

“Deal.”

Lucky just shook his head as he grabbed his wallet, shoved it in his back pocket and attached the chain to his belt loop. He took only a moment to drag a comb though his long hair to get out the worse of the snarls, before tossing the comb back on the dresser and heading for the door.

“Maybe you should shove your bedding in the washer before you go,” Cody said, sniffing a little. “That’s rank even for you.”

“Douchebag,” Lucky snarled as he whipped around and snatched up the bedding, smacking Cody in the face with it as he marched out into the hall and headed for the laundry room. A few short minutes later, he had the washer going and they headed for their bikes.

At the mall, Cody nudged Lucky toward the food court, insisting they grab something to eat before watching the movies, since movie candy was expensive as hell.

“Why didn’t you just eat at home?” Lucky asked as they wandered around checking out the choices.

“’Cause all that’s left in the fridge is leftover spaghetti and there was only enough for a bowl.”

“Which you didn’t want to take since that would have meant you’d have had to wash the pot, you lazy bastard.”

Cody just flashed him a cheeky grin. “Pretty much. Dude, just get the bourbon chicken, you always get the bourbon chicken.”

Lucky glared, then turned his attention back to all the signs. “Yeah well maybe I want a change.”

“Okay, go for it.”

Sighing, Lucky studying the menus, moving back and forth between the pizza place, the sub place and the Chinese place before finally ordering a steak and cheese sub.

“I’m impressed,” Cody said, after ordering a Ruben.

“I’m not,” Lucky grumbled after he’d taken a bite of the sub. “I should have got the bourbon chicken.”

Cody laughed which just prompted a glare from Lucky, though it didn’t last long before he gave in and was laughing too. It was hard not to when Cody was doing everything in his power to try and tease him out of his mood.

Surprisingly, the movies helped too, and since the theaters were almost empty, they didn’t have to worry about people sitting too close, or bringing in kids who didn’t sit still. By the time they were done, Lucky was more relaxed than he’d been in weeks, and hugged his friend, nestling against Cody’s warmth when they were safely back at Lucky’s house.

“Wanna come in and watch some TV?” Lucky asked.

“Yeah, you got any beer?”

Laughing, Lucky shoved open the door. “When don’t we?”

“True,” Cody remarked, slinging an arm over Lucky’s shoulder. “If you want, I can blow you, help you relax even more, or would you like me to fuck you?”

Lucky shivered, and pressed tighter to Cody’s side. “Both, please, make it hurt.”

“Always,” Cody promised, palming Lucky roughly as he pressed him against the wall. “Come on, let’s grab those beers.”

The pair headed inside, past the living room where Ray laid past out on the couch, the television watching him. Lucky sighed and pulled the blanket over his Pops, then turned the TV off.

“We can always go to my place, or skip the movies and just fuck.” Cody offered.

Lucky signed, no longer in the mood as he took in the empty whiskey bottles on the coffee table and the beer bottles on the floor. It was happening more and more often now, and he didn’t know what the hell to do. “Naw, I’d better stay put, he might need me, but thanks for today, man, I needed that.”

“Yeah, anytime,” Cody replied not even bothering to mask his disappointment before seeing himself out.

For several moments, Lucky just stood there staring down at Pops, thinking back to the night that his Old Man died and the words that had passed between him and Ray. It had been a hard decision, but he knew he’d made the right one. He just hoped that someday Ray could see that too.

***

Thorn sat behind his desk with his feet propped up on the edge and his office chair leaned all the way back. He was the picture of ease, his phone pressed to his ear while rolling two Feng Shui balls around in his free hand. He was slacking, and knew it, considering he was supposed to be going through resumes to try and find someone who wanted to work during the afternoons when things got busy. Shooting the shit with Mark had way more appeal than paperwork anyway.

“How’s he been?” Thorn asked.

“Hanging in there,” Mark replied. “He’s been at the club more, but I’ve been keeping a close eye on him and not allowing anyone but MC members to spend any time with him.”

“Fuck, I wish me and Cain lived closer, he needs a real Dom, not to be passed around so much.”

“I agree,” Mark replied. “To be honest, before you two came into the picture, I’d been hoping Dez would take him on, at least then he would have had someone to look after him these past few months.”

“What happened with that, Dez wasn’t interested?”

“Oh, he was interested, but Lucky wouldn’t stand for anything from him besides the sex. Pretty sure the only reason he accepts it from you two is because you listened when I said don’t take the damned blindfold off him.”

“Yeah, well, I’m getting sick of that blindfold. I want to see his eyes, I want him to see us, I want to be able to take him out of the dungeon and see what he’d be like on a date.”

“And how does Cain feel about that?”

Mark’s voice had taken on an edge of concern, one that Thorn knew well.

“He feels the same way,” Thorn hurried to assure him. “We’ve both come to the realization that popping in there every other week just isn’t enough.”

“Well for now it will have to be. The timing isn’t good for you to spring anything like this on him, I don’t think he’d take it well and I seriously doubt he’d be willing to go with you all the way to the Outer Banks, not with the way his Pops is handling things. Lucky’s been trying to handle things for him around the house, make sure he eats and shit gets paid, but Ray ain’t making it easy.”

“Isn’t there anything you can do to help?”

“I’m doing all I can. Don’t you think I know how to run my club by now?” Mark said, a bit of anger in his tone.

Thorn started back peddling immediately, knowing he was a cunt hair away from being out of line. “Wasn’t trying to question you, prez, just concerned for the kid is all.”

“See to it that’s all you’re doing,” Mark reprimanded. “So how are things at the shop?”

“The beaches are packed, the idiots are out in full force, and the shop has been busy as hell. I sold out of three different kinds of surf wax yesterday and body boards have been flying out of the displays almost as fast as I can stock them. The college kids have officially arrived, damned their preppy, wanna be asses, and if it wasn’t for all the cash they bring in, I’d be highly tempted to take a vacation for about a week to head on up there.”

Laugher echoed through the phone.

“I don’t really like seeing them come flooding through here either with their damned polos and platinum cards, clogging all the best fishing spots with their damned yacht parties and shit either, wish there was someplace we could all go to get away from them, but businesses don’t run themselves.”

“God, I wish they did. What made us ever think we wanted to be responsible in the first place?”

“Too many birthdays and enough stints in a cell to know that we didn’t want to spend any real amount of time in one,” Mark laughed. “Add in the fact that getting shot at sucks, and these days, the outlaw shit just doesn’t pay off in the long run. I’d rather some gray hairs dealing with frat boys than a bullet through the heart for running the wrong shit through the wrong territory.”

“You can say that again.”

“Yeah, and that reminds me,” Mark began, serious again. “Santiago has opened up shop up your way and rumor has it, he’s into something even bigger this time. Just…keep an eye on Cain. I doubt he’d be stupid enough to get himself tangled up with Santiago a second time, but you never know. Neither of us was ever fully sure what he held over Cain in the first place.”

“And he still hasn’t told me,” Thorn admitted, “insists it isn’t about trust, it’s about it being in the past and wanting to leave it there. I’m not completely buying it, but you know how he gets.”

“Yeah, I do, which is why I’m glad he belongs to you and not me.”

Thorn chuckled, knowing Mark the way he did, he knew a secret like that would drive the older man to distraction and have him thinking up ways to worm the secret out of Cain. While Thorn really wanted to know what kind of leverage Santiago might still hold over his lover, he wasn’t going to push Cain to the breaking point in order to get it out of him.

“I’m glad he’s mine too, and I know he’s stubborn, but he’s got a good heart and he’s better than I deserve,” Thorn replied.

“There is that,” Mark remarked, laughing. “I’ve got to run, Teddy’s yelling about something, it better not be another bat in the house or I swear to god I’m gonna find that exterminator and choke the hell outta him.”

“Then for the exterminator’s sake, I hope it ain’t a bat,” Thorn said before he hung up.

Running his fingers through his hair he sighed and looked out the window. The sun was beginning to dip lower in the sky and the resumes were boring the hell out of him. Vowing to finish going over them later that night, he hurried to his room and changed into his wetsuit, then rushed to the shed to grab his board. If he couldn’t catch a break with work, at least he could hit the water and try to catch the perfect wave.

CHAPTER FOUR

“Please, please more,” Lucky panted as red wax splashed over his shoulders.

Lucky’s body clenched at the hot feel of a drop hitting the back of his neck and Cain chose that moment to pull another bead from Lucky’s body. The long strand of anal beads had slid in easily after Thorn had fingered Lucky almost to the point of making him come. Now though, every tug on them made Lucky arch and cry out desperately.

Cain groaned, his cock painfully hard and made even harder with every cry and groan they wrung out of Lucky. He watched as Thorn poured a line of wax down Lucky’s spine and Lucky bucked, rocking forward, fists clenching the sheets as Cain tugged out yet another bead.

“God. More!” Lucky practically demanded as he tossed his head back and rocked on his hands and knees.

Thorn dragged his fingernails through the cooling wax on Lucky’s back, making him arch and rock more, crying out as several of the drier wax flakes peeled away. Chuckling, he extended the candle over Lucky’s body and dribbled the wax down his left side. Another bead, another desperate cry from Lucky, Cain moaned loudly as well, knowing there was only one bead left before he could slide his aching length inside of Lucky.

“Need to feel him so bad,” Cain groaned as Thorn took his time, waiting for Lucky to stop shaking before he poised the candle over the next unmarred spot.

Thorn chuckled and spilled more red wax, this time at the base of Lucky’s spine and over one ass cheek. “Then have him,” Thorn instructed, his voice rough and husky with need.

Lucky jerked, rocking forward, all but pulling the last bead from his body himself with the way he’d moved. Seeing his open, twitching hole, Cain dropped the beads in a plastic container by his foot, quickly rolled a condom on, and plunged into Lucky’s willing, waiting body.

“Fuuuuuuuck,” Lucky cried, rocking back against Cain.

Instead of taking control, Cain held Lucky’s hips lightly, letting him set the pace, and it wasn’t a gentle one.

***

Thorn blew out the candle and watched Lucky fucking himself on Cain’s cock. Cain’s eyes were closed and the sounds he was making had Thorn wrapping his hand around his cock and jerking himself as he watched.

“Oh, oh fuck,” Cain gasped as Lucky picked up the pace a little more, muscles clenching around Cain’s dick. He shuddered and Lucky cried out wildly as they came within moments of one another. Thorn watched every, single moment as he fisted his cock, then his whole body tensed up and he was coming too, ropes of cum shooting across the pair on the bed.

For several long minutes, the only sound in the room was harsh, heavy breathing and soft, breathy sighs and groans as all of them fought to regain their composure. Cain slipped slowly out of Lucky and flopped on the bed beside him, one arm thrown across Lucky’s lower back. Thorn took a deep breath to steady himself, and snatched some wet wipes from the container, quickly wiping the cum from both men before heading to the chrome fridge in the corner of the room. He returned with two bottles of water and a handful of small chocolate bars. After pushing one of the water bottles into Cain’s hand, Thornwent around the other side of the bed to tend to Lucky.

Kneeling beside the bed, Thorn brushed the back of his knuckles over the uncovered part of Lucky’s cheek to get his attention, then unscrewed the lid and brought it to Lucky’s lips, urging him to take several slow swallows. Next he unwrapped a piece of chocolate as Cain snuggled up as close as he could to Lucky. Gently, Thorn stroked his hand over the back of Lucky’s head and his shoulders, feeding him one small piece at a time until he’d eaten two of the bars. Only then did he start the slow, careful process of removing the wax from Lucky’s back.

“I think he broke me,” Cain muttered. “I don’t wanna move.”

“Then don’t,” Thorn said as he reached across Lucky to stroke his fingers through Cain’s damp hair. “Just hold him and rest and let me clean both of you up.”

“Mmmkay,” Cain muttered, eyes drifting closed again.

Thorn smiled at the picture the pair made sprawled across the bed together, wishing it was their bed at home they had Lucky in, rather than this one here at the dungeon. Tomorrow morning they’d make the three hour trip back home, and with the approaching season, they doubted they would be able to make it back for at least six weeks, maybe longer. If only there was a way to bring Lucky back home with them, but first that would require proper introductions and actually spending time together outside of these rooms. Something none of them could seem to manage at the moment.

With a sigh, Thorn bent to his task, removing the wax and then cleaning up both exhausted men as well as himself before he crawled onto the bed with them. Morning would come soon enough, and like each time before, Thorn and Cain would be forced to leave before Lucky was even awake. Such a damn shame. Just once he’d like to see what color Lucky’s eyes were, he was guessing green, a bright, brilliant emerald. God, Thorn thought as he closed his eyes for a little awhile, what an amazing sight that would be to wake up to.

***

“What do you mean he’s stopped coming here?” Thorn grumbled as he dropped onto a barstool beside Cain and smiled at Miranda as she served him a beer.

“Just what I said. I don’t know what the hell has been going on with him, lately, but he hasn’t been around much,” Mark admitted.

“I wish we could take him back to the Outer Banks with us,” Cain mentioned as he fiddled with his drink.

Mark glared over at him and tapped his fingers on the bar. “How many times do I gotta tell you the timing ain’t right for that shit yet? He won’t leave with you, no matter how you ask or what you tell him. All it’ll lead to is him shoving you guys as far away as he can manage to push you.”

“You don’t know that,” Cain tried to argue.

“Actually, I do. I know Lucky, I’ve watched him grow up, if you can call it that. Some days he leaves me wondering.”

“How long has it been since he stopped coming by?” Thorn asked.

“A little over a month now, won’t say why either, just that he’s got other shit to do,” Mark explained. “But he showed up to work with a black eye about two weeks ago and rumor has it that it was from hitting on a chick over at Bayside.”

“I heard he got the shit kicked outta him for hitting on some dude’s boyfriend at Studio 9 the other night,” Teddy remarked as he paused to put money in the till.

Mark raised an eyebrow at him. “And how would you know that?”

“Sean told me. He and Benny were in there dancing on Saturday night and they saw the fight, not like it was much of one. From the way Sean described him, the boyfriend was fricken’ huge.”

Mark groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“How much longer do you suggest we just wait around to talk to him?” Cain pressed. “We want to get to know him better, take him on a date, see what he’s like outside of this place.”

“Until he gets his head outta his ass and stops getting into so much shit, you keep your mouth shut!” Mark declared. “The only thing he seems to care about right now is getting into trouble, so leave it. Pushing isn’t gonna get you what you want.”

“Amen to that,” Thorn muttered.

“What kind of trouble?” Cain asked. He was drinking a pop tonight, not much in the mood for alcohol.

“Fights, mostly,” Mark replied. “He got into it with a couple of King’s guys last Saturday night outside of Strykers, fortunately, he didn’t get arrested that time. He did get arrested Wednesday night for beating the hell outta some guy clear across town. I have no clue what the fuck he was doing over there, but when I bailed him out I told him he’d better steer clear of trouble.”

“Why didn’t Ray go and get him?”

“Apparently Lucky called him, but he didn’t pick up his phone, so lucky me, I got the privilege of going down to the precinct. And guess who happened to be on desk duty that night?”

Thorn raised an eyebrow as he studied the grumpy frown on his old friend’s face. “Not Moody.”

“Yes Moody.”

“Christ, he was doing desk duty when we were running around getting into shit. Shouldn’t he have retired by now?” Thorn asked.

“Yeah, I’m guessing he should have. But there he was, cup of coffee and the evening newspaper, scowling at me like I was a bug he was just itching to squash. He’s gone completely gray now, but he’s actually lost that spare tire he used to have from all those Danishes. Who knows, maybe he stopped eating them.”

“Too bad, figured he’d have had a heart attack or something if he ever had to actually chase anyone down.”

Mark laughed and slapped Thorn on the shoulder. “Maybe he would have, if a certain someone had actually made sure his boot laces were tied before he tried bolting out of processing. I’ll never forget the look he gave you when you went skidding into the side of his desk and spilled his coffee all over his newspaper.”

“Man he was pissed,” Thorn said as he joined in the laughter.

Cain cocked his head to the side and studied Thorn. “And why haven’t I ever heard this story before?”

“You didn’t ask.”

“Uh-huh,” Cain replied, laughing. “So what happened next?”

“Well…” Mark began. “Old Moody got out of his chair, hauled Thorn to his feet and frog marched him back to the back, so they could finish processing him. Of course, by the time they did, I’d already bailed him out so they had little choice but to let him go. Was just a damned misdemeanor anyway, I still don’t see why he had to put up such a fuss about a couple fingerprints.”

“Yeah, that’s a story for another time.”

“You’ve been saying that for eighteen years,” Mark pointed out. “And I haven’t heard the damned story yet.”

“There’s still time,” Thorn pointed out before picking up his beer and taking a nice, long drink. “I’ve gotta have some tales left to tell in my retirement years.”

“Don’t we all, brutha,” Mark replied as he wiped the counter down. “Don’t we all.”

***

A quick glance at the clock told Thorn that it was almost midnight as he reached for his phone, seeing Mark’s name pop up on the caller ID. “You’re calling this late, it can’t be good.”

“We just found Ray’s body on the rocks below the compound, fucker jumped.”

“Son of a bitch.”

“That pretty much sums it up.”

“How’s Lucky taking it?”

“That’s a dumbass question, how the fuck do you think he’s taking it?”

“I just meant…” Thorn muttered, not even fully sure exactly what he meant and wishing he and Cain could be there for Lucky.

“I know what you meant, that’s why I’m warning you now to have your shit together before you come up here or don’t bother coming up.”

“Do you know how fucking hard it is to watch him in so much pain and not do anything?”

“Deal with it. Play the hand you’re dealt or get out of the game.”

“Fuckin’ easy for you to say.”

“No, not easy for me to say. None of this shit is easy right now.”

“All right, I got it.”

“Good.”

Thorn heard Mark cuss and felt like an asshole for giving him shit right now.

“When we have the memorial bonfire for Ray, you can talk to him then if you’re still in such a rush to move along with things. But don’t be surprised if it blows up in your face. Anything is likely to be too soon at this point.”

“Got it.”

“Good. I gotta go, I got shit to fuckin’ organize.”

“Yeah, thanks for callin’ and givin’ me a heads up.”

“Wish I hadn’t needed to.”

“Amen to that, brutha.”

“All right, these phone calls aren’t gonna make themselves, but Thorn…”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry, brutha, I know you guys have been waitin’ and hopin’ for time with him. I hope when everything blows over you get what you’re after.”

“Me too, my brutha, me too.”

***

Everything was so fucked up. That was all Lucky could think about as he stood in his empty home, not like Mark was letting him stay here alone. The house technically belonged to the club, but it was the place Lucky had grown up and the only home he’d ever known.

Still, he got it, he did, he understood fully why Mark and the guys were making him move up to the main clubhouse. In part so they could keep an eye on him, but there was also the fact that Darla and Mick were weeks away from having twins and it just made sense that they move into the house, since it was way too big for Lucky to live in alone.

Still, having to sort through all of his Pops and his Old Man’s things had been brutal. There was no way he could keep most of it, he’d known that as soon as he’d started going through closets, but seeing two lives reduced to the contents of boxes had been almost more than he could bare.

Miranda had been amazing though, not just in bringing boxes, but in helping him sort things and decide what to do with it all. Most had been donated, but Lucky had kept the photo albums and his baby book, still amazed at the time and detail Pops and his old man had put into recording everything for him.

He’d kept his old man’s collection of arrowheads, a memento of all the time they’d spent together hunting them down. He’d kept Pops’ leather jacket and the small collection of well-worn motorcycle magazines Ray had kept in a crate beside the bed. He kept the knives, all of them, carefully placing them in the bottom of his backpack. The shotguns he gave to Mark, along with a pair of bows, and several handguns He’d never been fond of hunting and shooting the way Sidewinder and Ray had been.

Sighing, Lucky walked down the now empty hall and stepped into their room one last time. Someone was coming to haul the furniture away and everything else was empty. Still, if he closed his eyes, he could remember running into their room when he was small and jumping up on their bed, begging them to get up and have a bowl of sugary marshmallow filled cereal with him. A slow smile crossed his face as he remembered the way Ray would bat at him with a pillow until Sidewinder captured him and dragged him down to the mattress and tickled him.

It had been a long time since the house was filled with laughter. Briefly he hopped that Mick and Darla’s kids would have a lifetime of that living here, then he opened his eyes again, ready to say his goodbyes to the place. Light streamed in through the now bare window, winking off something small and sparkling that lay in the corner. Frowning, Lucky made his way over to it and knelt down, shocked to realize what it was. His old man’s winged skull ring. With trembling fingers he picked it up and felt the cool weight in his hand as tears prickled his eyes, then spilled over to leave cold paths on his cheeks.

It had been years since he’d seen the ring. Sidewinder had thought he’d lost it and damn near destroyed the house looking for it before giving up. It had been a gift from Ray, way back when they were dating, and Lucky knew that his old man would have wanted to be buried with it.

Too late for that now, a small voice in the back of his head nagged. Though maybe he could dig a small hole and bury it at his old man’s grave.

It won’t be the same, the voice persisted, as Lucky turned it over in his hand. It had always seemed so large, but now, when Lucky slid it on his finger, it was a perfect fit. A cold, heavy reminder of the parents he’d lost.

Sobs wracked his body then, loud and uncontrollable as the reality of it all smashed into him. He was well and truly alone.

CHAPTER FIVE

“How are things on the Outer Banks?”

Cain couldn’t help but grin at the sound of Mark’s voice coming through the phone.

“Waves were high this afternoon and the shop was dead, I spent the afternoon chasing the perfect tube.”

“Did you find it?”

“Nope, but close. You know what that means though?”

“That there’s always tomorrow?”

“Exactly,” Cain said, laughing. “Are you looking for Thorn?”

“Yup, is he around?”

“Yeah, let me call him.”

Cain didn’t even bother to cover the receiver with his hand, he just moved it away from his mouth about six inches and bellowed.

A loud thunk, punctuated by a series of curses revealed that Thorn was closer than Cain had expected. He came around from behind the shelves, scowling, his eyes narrowing even further as they landed on Cain.

“Do you have to do that every fuckin’ time?”

“I thought you were in the back,” Cain replied sheepishly.

“Every time,” Thorn said as he stalked to the counter, the edges of his mouth twitching as he tried hard not to laugh. “Every god damned time you say the same thing. When am I ever in the back? I’m never in the back when the phone’s for me. Never, it would take an ice storm in hell for me to actually be in the back when you decided to bellow for me and guess what, the fates hate me too much for that.”

Cain couldn’t help it, he’d gone from pretending to be contrite to doubling over with laughter.

Thorn took the phone from him just barely able to keep from laughing himself. “Get back ta work, will ya, that board ain’t gonna shape itself.”

“What are you now, a slave driver?” Cain shot back, laughing still.

“Why don’t I grab your favorite whip and we’ll find out.”

Cain licked his lips and smirked as he headed out back to the shaping shack, his laughter still trailing behind him.

***

“Are you two done?” Mark grumbled through the phone as soon as Thorn put it to his ear. How he always managed to do that he could never guess. It was just like Cain and the bellowing, he just had to live with it and hope for the best.

“Yeah, yeah, we’re done, what’s going on?”

“Got a bonfire Saturday night, gonna honor Ray. You know the deal.”

“Fuckin’ Christ man, it’s barely been a month since he passed and given how he did it…”

“We don’t talk about that. Just, leave off with it, okay. If you know what’s good for you, you won’t even mention it while you’re down here.”

“Alright, I got it, we’ll be there.”

“Good, ‘cause I need ta talk to you about Lucky Strike, every other week he’s been getting into shit, and its only gotten worse with Ray gone.”

“They were together a long time, Sid and Ray.”

“Yeah, nearly twenty-seven years.”

“Lucky bastards.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Trouble on the home front?”

“Let’s just say I’m shocked the home front ain’t burning at the moment, but that’s a story for another day. As for Lucky, you asked once how he got his name, well he was the lucky by-product of a one night stand between Sid and some hang around. He took care of her while she was knocked up, and gave her some cash when the kid was born so she could move on and make a life for herself. In exchange, she gave Lucky to Ray and old Sidewinder to raise.”

Thorn sighed. It was pretty shitty that Lucky had lost his other old man to such selfish bullshit. Sometimes being out on the Outer Banks made him feel so remote. The club was supposed to be one big family, but the truth was, keeping up with what was going on with everyone was next to impossible when you had a business to run and the two branches only intermingled a few times a year.

“I’ll see if we can’t get there a little early.”

“Good deal. How’s everything going up there?”

“Business is the best it’s ever been, between the boards Cain’s been shaping and the connections we’ve made down in Florida, we’ve had steady business.”

“Good to hear, how’d that come about anyway?”

“Turns out that not everything Cain was doing off the coast was illegal. During one of his trips down there he ran into Dan Burkhart, ended up spending a couple mornings surfing with him. Even let Burkhart try out his board, which happened to be one that he’d made.”

“And that means what, exactly? This Burkhart guy rich and wanting to buy a shitload of boards?”

“He’s got cash, and yeah, he’s ordered a couple boards, but the best part of the deal is the exposure. Burkhart’s a world champion surfer, and when he competes on those boards, they’ll be photographed and splashed all over the magazines.”

“Now that’s publicity we can live with, good deal. We’ll talk more about it when you get here. I’ve got some guy due in here in a few minutes who’s looking to have the Greek Colosseum tattooed on his back. I’m thinking it’s gonna be a long evening, but we’ll see.”

“Hope he’s planning on staying still for a while.”

“So do I, my brutha, so do I.”

Mark hung up then and Thorn closed the phone and stuck it back beneath the counter, in his head, he was already planning the trip up the coast and ways to finally introduce himself and Cain to Lucky.

***

The photograph was old and a little bit faded, folded down the center from being kept in his wallet for years. Lucky stroked his finger across the surface, brushing away a little bit of sand. He was thirteen in the image, long before his Old Man had gotten sick and his Pops had decided he couldn’t deal with the grief of having lost him and decided to jump off a fuckin’ cliff. Everything had seemed almost perfect back then. Now, everything was just a disaster.

A Christmas tree loomed behind them, wrapping paper all around their feet, the camera had caught the lights twinkling, and the joy on Lucky’s face as he waved the keys to his new dirt bike toward the camera. The best part about the bike hadn’t been the freedom, it had been the time his Old Man and his Pops had spent teaching him to ride right. It had been the family races, the life lessons around campfires in the middle of nowhere, the stories, the laughter, the ability to just be away from town for a little while.

The crunch of boots on gravel caused him to hastily tuck the photo back in his wallet and shove it in his pocket again.

“You ridin’ out to the point?”

Lucky turned his eyes away from the rolling waves to see his best friend studying him intently.

“Naw, I can’t deal with that shit tonight,” Lucky drawled as he dug in his front pocket for a stick of gum. Trying to quit smoking sucked, at least the gum took his mind off it for a little while.

“You okay?”

Lucky’s eyes narrowed into a glare. Of course he wasn’t okay, how the fuck could anyone expect him to be okay after the shit year he’d had? He seriously doubted that he would ever be okay again, but he knew his oldest friend was just trying to show concern for him, whether Lucky really wanted it or not. When Cody didn’t back down, Lucky just sighed and muttered curses about his persistence, wishing he’d just fuck off for a bit and leave him alone. He didn’t deserve Cody’s concern, or anyone else’s, not after all the bullshit he’d gotten into over the last few months. Maybe if he’d been home more instead of being stupid, his Pops wouldn’t have…

He swallowed hard, feeling his gut clench and his eyes start to sting, again. Deep breaths, he told himself, refusing to fall apart in front of Cody again. Tears were useless anyway, all of the damage had already been done. A cold wind blew off the water, making him shiver, and Lucky closed his eyes, breathed in the salt air and bit back a curse as he felt Cody settle on the rock beside him.

“You’re not okay,” Cody said softly.

Lucky’s fists clenched, he bit the inside of his cheek to keep from screaming, No fucking shit at the top of his lungs. Instead he muttered, “I’m alive, that’s about as okay as it’s gonna get right now.”

“You’ve got to start easing up on yourself. Ray’s death wasn’t your fault.”

“I should have been there, Cody!” Lucky exploded, nearly falling off the rock as he turned towards him, frustration and anger practically radiating off of him. “Damnit, if I’d been there I could have talked him out of it, I know I could have. He was my Pops, he would have listened to me.”

“No, Lucky, he wouldn’t have, not in the end. Maybe that night, but you couldn’t have watched him twenty-four seven. If he was bound and determined to off himself, then damn it he was gonna find a way to do it, even if it was while you were off at the store grabbing a gallon of milk.”

“Fuck you,” Lucky snarled.

Cody exhaled a slow, shaky breath and brushed his shoulder length brown hair back from his eyes before reaching out to curl his fingers around Lucky’s arm.

“Why do you think he waited until he knew you were out of town? He didn’t want you to be the one to find him. You read his note the same as I did, he didn’t want to feel as if he was letting you down.”

“Isn’t that exactly what the fuck he did!”

“Yeah, it is, but he didn’t want to think about that. He didn’t want to consider that you might still need him. He didn’t want your love in that moment, Lucky, he wanted to be selfish. He wanted all of his pain to end. He wasn’t thinking about the pain he was gonna cause anyone else.”

Lucky snarled an oath and Cody scooted closer, trying to maneuver him into a hug, but Lucky resisted.

“Fuck man, I miss him too, I spent as much time at your place when we were growing up as I did at my own. He was like an uncle to me. I would have been right there on the edge of that cliff with you, trying to talk him down, but he didn’t give either of us that chance. He didn’t give my old man that chance and he was one of Ray’s oldest friends. He’s gone, Lucky. There’s nothing either of us can do about it now. Tonight let’s just ride out to the point, have a bonfire, eat some good food and remember what he meant to all of us.”

Silence. Lucky tried to let Cody’s words sink in. He knew he was right, that it was past time for being mad about what his Pops had done, but Lucky couldn’t stop being angry. He couldn’t stop feeling like he could have done more. Couldn’t stop feeling like he’d failed the only person left in the world who really fuckin’ loved him.

“I’m not going,” Lucky said as he yanked his arm from Cody’s grasp. “I’m gonna stay here until I get tired, then I’ll go home, maybe grab a frozen pizza on the way.”

“You can’t survive on orange juice and pizza.”

“I’m pretty sure it covers all the food groups,” Lucky muttered as he returned his gaze to the ocean. The waves seemed to be calming, which was a shame. He liked them high and angry, the crash of them against the rocks had been like an echo of his own mood.

Swearing, Cody grabbed Lucky’s arm and gave him a shake. “God dammit, Lucky, don’t make us bury you too.”

“You guys can cremate me if you want, scatter my ashes in the ocean and forget you ever knew me,” Lucky muttered.

Eyes narrowing, Cody released Lucky’s arm and punched him in the mouth. Lucky recoiled, more shocked than hurt as he watched Cody climb to his feet. A thin trickle of blood flowed from Lucky’s split lip, but he didn’t even bother reaching up to wipe it away.

“You know what, go fuck yourself, Lucky,” Cody spat as he turned and walked away.

Lucky listened to the chains on Cody’s motorcycle boots jangle as he scrambled up over the rocks and stalked off, a sound that was quickly followed by the roar of Cody’s bike as he drove away.

Thank the Gods

Lucky lay back on the big boulder he’d claimed, and stared up at the break wall looming behind him. It was old, covered in dried shells and seaweed near the bottom. Designed to keep the ocean from flooding the city, it was the perfect wall tonight to keep him cut off from everything.

It was getting harder and harder to avoid his friends and the rest of the MC. Family and all that. He’d grown up with many of them, hell, his old man had been one of the founding five, and his Pops had been a friend of Mark’s since childhood. Still, it didn’t mean he needed any of them to play shrink…or daddy.

Lucky squeezed his eyes closed, trying not to picture his old man in his mind. The gruff bear of a man had been eaten away to almost nothing after cancer treatments and chemo that had failed to save his life. Wasn’t a day that went by that Lucky didn’t miss his advice or good natured ribbing. He could picture his dad kneeling beside an old soft tail, wrench in one hand, old battered tool box beside him, answering Lucky’s questions about schoolwork and sex with the sage wisdom of a man who’d truly lived.

From the time he could toddle around behind him, his old man had started teaching him about bikes. Building, fixing, customizing, how to hear what the engine was trying to tell you. His Pops had supplemented that education by passing on a love for the ocean, teaching Lucky to swim and later snorkel, spear fish and when he was older, they started to dive, exploring the depths and even a few shipwrecks. Between the pair, his childhood had been amazing.

His first love had been chrome and the feel of the wind in his face and as soon as he’d graduated high school he’d started interning at the shop, learning to paint on old scraps and t-shirts until his techniques were good enough to start painting bikes. Now, there was hardly a bike in the club that didn’t have one of his designs on it. He drew tattoos too, and all of the ink that decorated his body was of his own design.

His second love had always been the ocean, and whenever he was feeling like shit, he came to her shores and listened to the waves roll in. Night was the best time, the beaches were empty and the sky dark and seemingly endless. He could get lost just staring into it, wondering about the future, the past, mistakes and how in the world he was supposed to move forward when all he wanted to do was go home, lock the doors, fall on the couch, and only move for more food or to take a piss.

A cold wind blew off the water. He knew he should go to the bonfire, pay his last respects in the ways of the club, but anger was fueling his temper and guilt was eating at him too heavily for him to even enjoy the stories they would tell about his Pops. Ray should have been there with all of them, laughing and bullshitting about football and the fall rally, not in the ground, not…dead.

Lucky opened his eyes and stared up at the stars, shivering a little, but it wasn’t enough to make him move. The night was quiet, the sound of the tide was starting to sooth his anger and hurt feelings, at least a little. He felt the bob of a wave beneath his foot, the cold splash licked at the leg of his jeans and Lucky flung an arm up over his head, stretched out more and welcomed the feel of the water. At some point the tide rolled in and water lapped over the sides of his rock, soaking his back and legs. If it was summer it would have felt good, but tonight, it was uncomfortably cool and coupled with the wind, it just made him shiver more.

Sitting up with a sigh, Lucky brushed his hair back from his eyes and stared into the night. It was chilly, but not yet cold, the seasons changing slow this year. Even with the wind blowing against the back of his wet t-shirt, he couldn’t make himself leave here. If anything, the ocean seemed to be calling him tonight and though he knew better than to swim here at this time of year without a wetsuit and a buddy, tonight he didn’t care.

He unlaced his boots and pulled off his socks, stuffing them in the boots before tossing them up and over the breakwall. His jeans and t-shirt soon followed. Lucky stepped further out onto the rock, the ocean lapping over his feet. The rock was slick, but nothing that he wasn’t used to. At the edge of the rock, Lucky sat, letting the water crash over his legs as he tried to get used to the temperature. There was only so much adjusting he could do before he just said fuck it and slid into the ocean.

Fuck, it was chilly. When it lapped over his shoulders it nearly took the breath out of him. A wave slapped him in the face, and he shook his head, sending droplets of water flying. When the next wave came, he went under it, then swam out into the night. His strokes were slow and steady, carrying him out away from the light of the shore. Once he was far enough away from the rocks, he stopped swimming and rolled onto his back, his legs kicking only enough to keep him afloat. Watching the stars this way was different from watching them from shore. It was like being rocked, soothed, with a canvas of fireflies above him. Or embers.

He didn’t want to think of embers or flames at the moment, that would just lead to thinking about the bonfire again and all of the many reasons why he shouldn’t go. And the one glaring reason he should. To honor his Pops. But there was no honor in what Ray had done, was there? The truth was, Lucky was having a really hard time reconciling what he truly felt about his father’s actions. Was it selfish to want peace? This moment, here in the waves, was the most peaceful one that Lucky had experienced in weeks. Would it be wrong of him to want to keep this moment? To never want to leave this place?

No one would have to know. He could just close his eyes and sink down, down, down, let the blackness of the water just carry him off somewhere. When his body turned up, if it turned up, no one would know what he’d done. They’d prolly think he’d gotten drunk and fallen in, or pissed off someone who’d decided to throw him in. Maybe that would be the best thing for everyone. Then they wouldn’t have to worry about how he was doing, or if he was eating right, or what kind of trouble he was going to get into next.

For a moment Lucky wondered if this was how Ray had felt when he was writing that letter. What had he been thinking as he’d stood on the cliff. Had he looked down at the rocks? Had he been afraid that there would be pain, or had he welcomed it, or maybe he just hadn’t cared anymore. Had there been a moment when he’d had second thoughts, considered, even once, backing away from the edge and going back home, tearing up the letter and sitting up waiting for Lucky to come home? Had his Pops thought about him at all in the end?

Even as he felt himself sinking, Lucky was thinking, about Cody and how much his friend would miss him, about his club and the funeral they’d have to plan so soon after Ray’s. He didn’t want to picture who would carry his coffin, or how it would look, draped with the club colors the way his Old Man’s and Ray’s had been. He was thinking about the solemn moments at the gravesite, the silence he’d hated, looking down in the hole, trying to remember the person the way they used to be, instead of in a box.

That was the worst part, staring into the hole, into nothing, watching handfuls of dirt as they fell on the shiny surface of the casket. When his old man had died, he’d looked into that hole for so long he’d thought about sliding down on top of the coffin and just curling up there and letting them bury him too. He hadn’t thought himself capable of turning around and returning to his bike and leaving the old man up there on the hill like that. Even knowing that he wasn’t alone, that he was surrounded by the graves of other club members that had fallen before him, hadn’t eased Lucky’s reluctance to leave. If it hadn’t been for Cody, he wasn’t sure what he’d have done.

Water closed over his head as he thought of Cody, pictured his friend’s face, the anger in his eyes when he’d punched him, the misery, sadness and fear too. Cody had been afraid for him, and maybe with good reason. Lucky was starting to feel as if maybe he should be afraid for himself.

He sucked in a breath and choked on it, opened his eyes to darkness and had a moment of panic as he kicked and thrashed and fought his way back up to the surface again, shaking, scared to death of what he’d considered doing. A wave smacked him in the face and he choked again, gasped and wiped at his eyes, turned around wildly, scanning for light and the shoreline.

CHAPTER SIX

Thorn brought his bike to a stop and waited for Cain to pull up and park beside him.

“You sure this is the place? I thought it was further up the coast,” Cain commented as he glanced around at the near deserted stretch of breakwall and beach.

“Don’t know, saw that bike so I pulled in, but there’s no one here and no other bikes,” Thorn replied as he looked around as well.

“Pretty wicked machine,” Cain said as he studied the brilliant green dragon painted on the black and green scaled tank. The large reptile looked like it was leaping off the tank, and Cain considered getting closer just to check out all the details.

“Could be broken down, but if she were my girl I’d have to push her home before I’d just leave her here,” Thorn grumbled, voice dripping distain for the idiot owner of the bike.

“You have pushed your old girl home, several times, and I’ve done the same,” Cain remarked. “Can’t think of a single time when I’d have had a reason to just walk away from my bike and leave it for any asshole to find.”

Thorn nodded. “Exactly. Whoever owns her sure as hell doesn’t deserve her.”

“Hey,” Cain pointed at the boots that lay in the grass several feet from the bike, then drew a line in the air from them to the jeans that lay in a heap near the top of the wall. “I don’t think the bike’s been ditched.”

Thorn soon spotted a t-shirt fluttering a bit in the breeze and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You don’t think some idiot’s swimming out there?”

Cain grimaced. “That or there’s a couple of idiots fucking on the rocks, but I don’t see a second set of clothes and I’m not sure how comfortable that would be, at least not for whoever’s on the bottom.”

Thorn shot him a mischievous look. “Sure you don’t wanna find out?”

“Yeah, In fact, I’m positive I don’t wanna find out, so let’s just make sure whoever’s down there isn’t in trouble, then get going, I’m pretty sure we’re late as it is,” Cain suggested.

Thorn swung his leg over the bike, dismounting and Cain followed, the pair walking to the edge of the grass and looking down at the rocks below, just in time to see a very familiar young man struggling to pull himself up onto them. A wave crashed into him, obscuring him from view for a moment as he was sucked off the rock and shoved back under the water’s surface, the sight nearly giving Cain a heart attack. Thorn sat on the top of the wall and slid down to the ledge below, then down further, to the large rock closest to the struggling young man.

***

Lucky bobbed to the surface, batting at his hair and struggling to get his bearings. Salt stung his eyes and a new wave smacked him in the face, making him choke even as the undercurrent sucked him downward again. He would have laughed if he hadn’t been so busy breathing. He’d practically begged for this, and now that it was happening, his only thought was to find a way out. He didn’t want to die today and he certainly didn’t want to do it smashed to a pulp against the rocks.

Something snagged his hair, hard, and he opened his mouth to holler only to end up sucking in a lungful of water. Choking, he thrashed and flailed, smacking his hand against a rock, which prompted another attempt at yelling that only ended in another round of choking. God how fuckin’ stupid was this, he really, really would be laughing at this if his head and hand didn’t hurt like hell.

A heavy vicelike grip encircled his arm and he found himself being dragged backwards over the rocks. The scraping hurt almost as bad as the constant tugging on his hair. Lucky gasped, then choked as he tried to cough the water from his lungs, grateful when he was lifted to a more upright position.

***

“You little idiot!” Cain hissed as Lucky gagged and wretched and puked up some of the water he’d swallowed.

Thorn cut Cain a look and shook his head. “Not now,” he cautioned, his tone low enough that the still dry heaving Lucky couldn’t hear.

“Fine, I’ll just climb back up the wall while you steady him, then see if I can pull him up.”

“Scrawny as he’s gotten, I doubt it will take too much effort, but it will go a lot easier if he’s able to help,” Thon replied as Cain helped him steady Lucky against the side of the rock wall before he climbed back up to the top.

All Lucky could do was double over, retching and coughing. Thorn figured he probably felt as if his stomach and lungs were fixing to come out of his throat. Lucky nearly face planted as a result of several hard whacks to his back, courtesy of Thorn. They served their purpose though, allowing Lucky to draw in a breath of cool night air. Thorn’s grip on Lucky’s arm had kept him from falling back into the ocean, and now Thorn knew Lucky could breathe again.

“You good now?” Thorn asked.

Lucky nodded as he sucked in a lungful of air.

“Then turn around and reach up, help Cain up there get you to the top,” Thorn instructed.

Lucky did as he was told and Cain grabbed his wrists. Lucky planted his feet against the side of the wall, but they were wet, like the moss and seaweed and just slipped every time he tried to find purchase. More scraping as he was hauled over the lip and onto the top of the wall. With a groan, he rolled off the stone and onto the much softer grass. A few minutes later, Thorn scrambled up beside him.

“You’re either an idiot, or you’ve got a death wish, which is it?” Thorn growled.

“Oh and you were telling me to wait to tear into him,” Cain chuckled.

“I said not now, then. Then is over,” Thorn pointed out.

Lucky lifted his head and Thorn was knocked speechless by the most stunningly devastating pair of vivid sapphire eyes he’d ever seen. So much for bring green, this was as far from green as one could get. All those sessions in the dungeon he’d imagined what Lucky’s eyes might look like, but nothing had prepared him for this. It knocked the anger right out of him, at least for as long as it took for Lucky’s smartass response.

“Both.”

“Of all the dumbass, stupid, moronic things to do…” Thorn began, only to have his tirade cut off by Cain.

“Save all that for when he’s back in clothes and warm again, and check out all the new ink he’s got, these are some impressive pieces.”

Lucky turned his head toward Thorn, but couldn’t really see him once Thorn had gripped his shoulder, intent on keeping him in place as he studied all the tattoos Lucky had gotten since the last time they’d seen him.

“Look at this joker on his shoulder, looks like the dice are coming right out of his hand,” Cain remarked, “and that’s a seriously wicked skeletal pirate, between the flames and demon jesters that’s gotta be one of the best one I’ve ever seen. Hey kid, where are the rest of the Jokers anyway?”

“About twelve miles north, out on the point,” Lucky rasped, his voice hoarse and strained from all the coughing he’d done. He gestured out into the night with a shaky hand while trying to decide if he should try getting to his feet.

“What’d they do, ditch you out here?” Cain asked. “Looks like someone popped you in the mouth too.”

He reached out to touch Lucky’s face, finger coming mere millimeters from his lip before Lucky turned his head away.

“I ditched myself out here,” Lucky muttered, teeth starting to chatter as the winds picked up. He wrapped his arms around himself and shivered. “Seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“If that was your idea of a good plan, I’d hate to see one of your bad ones,” Thorn chuckled gruffly. “One of these days your luck is gonna run out, Lucky.”

“How do you know my name?” Lucky asked, instantly on guard.

“Relax, we wouldn’t have bothered to fish you out if we were planning on fuckin’ with ya. We’ve seen you around. We’re with the Outer Banks chapter, so we know who you are, though I gotta admit the first time Mark told us that was your name we thought he was kidding, figured at the very least it had to be a nickname or something.”

“Yeah, well, just about everyone seems to think that,” Lucky grumbled as he climbed back to his feet. “Sorry to disappoint, but it’s actually on my birth certificate. Thanks for fishing me out. I’m pretty sure I’ve got it covered from here.”

“Uh-huh, ‘cause you’ve already proved that,” Cain snorted, his laughter mocking and sarcastic. “Seeing as how we don’t need any issues with Mark or anyone in the club with a claim to you, we’ll just make sure you get back to them in one piece.”

***

“I don’t belong to anyone!” Lucky snapped, fingers digging into his arms hard enough that he knew he was going to bruise. As soon as the words had flown out of his mouth, he was kicking himself. He snapped his mouth shut, realizing exactly how stupid he was being tonight. Just ‘cause these two had fished him out of the water didn’t mean he was safe with them. He should have given a name, any name, just as long as that person was bigger and meaner than these two looked to be. The last thing he needed tonight was anymore issues.

“Seems to me like you need to belong to somebody if only to keep you out of trouble,” Cain commented as Thorn retrieved Lucky’s T-shirt, jeans and boots.

“Shit,” Thorn grumbled as he handed them back to Lucky. “Your shirt’s all wet, jeans are a bit damp too. I didn’t find a jacket, let me guess, you couldn’t be bothered with one?”

“It’s stuffed in my saddlebags,” Lucky said as he took his things from Thorn and began pulling them on. He’d been grateful to have his boxers on, at least when they’d first pulled him out of the water, but now, as he debated whether or not to remove them or pull his jeans on over the cold, wet cloth, he almost wished he’d ditched them before he’d gotten in the water. Grimacing, he began to shove his feet into the damp jeans, only to have Cain rip them away.

“Yeah, you need a keeper,” Cain snapped. “Take the damned wet shorts off first.”

Lucky blushed and cursed the fact that there was a full moon tonight. Cain opened his mouth, probably to continue with his ranting at him, but Thorn gripped his arm and shook his head at him.

Cain muttered, “Foolish idiot…and…moonlight swims—” But that was all Lucky could make out.

Peeling off the wet boxers, Lucky dropped them beside the pile of clothes and made quick work of yanking on his t-shirt, shivering at the feel of damp cloth against his skin. He curled his knees up and held his hands out for the jeans, which Thorn practically tossed in his face. At least his socks and boots were dry, and Cain had retrieved his jacket and held the warm item out to him.

“Thanks,” Lucky said softly, giving him a small smile.

“It’s going to be a cold twelve miles, regardless,” Thorn said, clearly watching the exchange. “The sooner we get you to the bonfire, the better off you’ll be.”

“I’m not going,” Lucky said stubbornly. Even as he shoved his arms into the jacket and zipped it tight, grateful for the warmth it provided.

“Kid, you’re going, either on that pretty machine of yours or tied across the back of one of ours,” Thorn said, arms crossed as he glared at Lucky.

“No one can ride that way,” Lucky attempted to point out.

Thorn closed the distance between him and Lucky until they were almost nose to nose. “There is a first time for everything, though it might really suck for you, with all that long hair, if it gets caught in a wheel.”

Seeing the intensity in Thorn’s face as well as the anger radiating off the man, Lucky decided it might be better to back down than see if he was truly serious. Something told him that attempting to threaten them with things that Mark and the club might do to them if they hurt him would only get him laughed at. Something he wasn’t in the mood for tonight.

“Fine,” Lucky huffed and started stalking toward his bike. Too bad he was stiff, sore, and cold as hell so his usual cocky swagger looked more like a zombie shamble.

“Don’t even think about trying to ditch us,” Thorn called out as Lucky climbed on the back of his bike and fired it up. “You won’t be able to outride us and none of us need a tip to the ER tonight.”

Lucky considered flipping him off, but at this point, he just wanted to get the trip over with. Besides, after sizing them up, he didn’t figure he could take on the bigger man in a fair fight, let alone when he had his buddy with him. He was sore enough at the moment without managing to get the crap kicked out of him too.

The ride to the point was one of the coldest of Lucky’s life and he was happy to park his bike beside the others and stagger from the machine to the roaring flames where a good chunk of the MC was gathered. He caught Cody’s eye for just a moment and his friend glared at him and turned away. Go figure. Cody would hold a grudge for at least a week. Closing his eyes, Lucky allowed the heat to begin to warm him. He’d worry about earning forgiveness another day.

***

Cain kept a close eye on Lucky until he reached the group sitting around the bonfire, noting how the young man sat off to the side, alone. Once he was certain Lucky wasn’t going to get into any more trouble, he joined Thorn and some of the other Outer Banks members of the Rollin’ Jokers by the coolers and grills.

“Thanks,” Mark said by way of greeting as he passed Cain a beer. “Thorn was just telling me about you’alls little fishing expedition tonight. I don’t know what the hell I’m gonna do with that kid.”

Looking over at Lucky sitting with his knees pulled up to his chin and his eyes staring into the fire, it was pretty clear that Lucky was hurting and likely a danger to himself.

“He still getting into fights, or is it more than that now?” Cain asked, watching Mark intently. “He hasn’t gotten into drugs or anything has he?”

Thorn was watching him too, and Cain knew he was hoping drugs weren’t the issue. Anything else Cain was certain they could deal with, but not that.

“Still hung up on him, huh?” Mark chuckled.

“Have been since the first night, you know this, so stop beating around the bush,” Thorn reminded him. “You’re the one who said we should wait to ask him to join us permanent like; seems to me like maybe waiting wasn’t such a good idea.”

Cain glanced back toward the bonfire to see Lucky sitting as close as possible to the flames. Even soaking wet and shivering he’d been absolutely gorgeous, maybe even more so because of the vulnerable position he’d found himself in.

“No drugs,” Mark finally replied, chuckling a little as he watched Cain watching Lucky. “If he’d gotten into that shit I’d have choked the hell outta his dumbass. It’s mostly just stupid shit he gets into now; shooting his mouth off without thinking, messing around with the wrong guys and sometimes girls. He’s not very picky, or discriminant. I keep trying to warn him that he’s gonna get his ass kicked worse than he already has for messing with someone else’s bitch.”

Cain’s lips pressed into a thin line. Neither he nor Thorn had much use for a whore or a cheater.

“Does he have a job or at least a trade, something he’s good at besides sucking cock?” Thorn asked bluntly.

Mark’s gruff face split into a wide grin. “Oh hell yeah, the kid does airbrushing like you rarely see, one of a kind designs and he draws tattoos too, he’s an amazing artist. Give him a big project to work on and that’s about the only time he doesn’t manage to get himself into some shit.”

“Really?” Thorn’s eyes lit up. They’d been in need of an artist at their surf shop ever since the last one had quit to move west for ‘greener’ pastures. If Lucky could do some designs for custom boards then, even if things didn’t manage to evolve between the three of them, at least the shop would have an artist on staff to see to customer’s needs.

“Is he too invaluable to let go, or can we get him for the shop, trial basis, of course, but I think we can keep him too busy for him to find trouble,” Cain offered.

“You think?” Mark chuckled. “Don’t be so sure about that. Truth is, he’s a good kid, but I just don’t have the time to rein him in like he needs. Now this shit tonight, I don’t know what to make of it. Not wanting to come to the bonfire, okay, I get that, there comes a point when you just get tired of dealing with death and memories. But he should have handled it the right way and said something, and what the hell was up with him going out there swimming like that?”

“You’ll have to ask him that, when we spotted him he was trying to climb back up onto the rocks and failing miserably.”

Mark sighed and glanced over at Lucky who huddled alone, looking lost even among his brothers and sisters in the club.

“I’ve got four stubborn little bastards of my own to keep in line and they’re turning me gray. I tell them all the time that I’m too old for the shit they pull, but do you think the little fuckers actually listen to what I have to say? And then there’s Miranda and Teddy…”

“Of course they don’t listen,” Cain laughed. “At least not any better than we ever did. At least you have your boy and your old lady to keep you somewhat sane, and your sons know you’ve got they’re backs. Lucky doesn’t have anyone left to look out for him anymore.”

Mark looked thoughtful. “So this is it, you guys are serious? You’re actually ready to take Lucky Strike on permanently?”

Both paused for a moment, stared at one another, silent understanding passing between them.

“Yeah, we are. We haven’t been able to stop talking about it since the last trip we made down here. I’m just glad he was actually there at the dungeon and we hadn’t missed him again. If he’ll have us, we want him with us, permanently. What we saw tonight does give cause for concern, and since it looks like no one here is interested in putting a leash on his bullshit, we’ll be more than happy to.”

“After Dez, no one’s ever taken an interest in him, besides you two and Cody. After he came back from that little extended absence from the dungeon, he’s been way too stubborn to realize he needed a firm hand to guide him. Most just play with him a little, then leave him be when they realize he’s either going to back out mid-scene or that he’s in the mood to push buttons that night. A trying little cuss is our Lucky.”

Both noticed the fondness in Mark’s tone when he said it. From all they’d gathered, he really did have a soft spot for Lucky.

“He never backed out on us,” Thorn reminded him.

“I know, he was always easier to deal with after you two had been down here visiting. Would go days without getting into shit, then bang, he’d be back to the usual bullshit again. Honestly, I’ve asked him about it a few times, but he just feeds me some line of bullshit so we don’t even bother encouraging anyone to play with him anymore.”

“So he’s still got no entanglements?” Cain asked. “No relationships or ties with anyone?”

“He’s been pushing people away for months now,” Mark replied.

“You mentioned Cody, your youngest boy,” Thorn remarked. “He and Lucky more than friends?”

“Yeah, he and Lucky mess around sometime, I only know ‘cause I caught ‘em at it more than once, but it’s never been anything serious between the two. They grew up together, as close as brothers when they’re not pissing one another off. Too explosive, really, if they were to actually try to get together. Both of them need a keeper and I’ve just about got one nailed down for Cody. To tell the truth, with Lucky shipped off to the Outer Banks, it’ll probably be easier to get Cody to agree to give Wreck a chance.”

“Oh shit, you’re gonna hook him up with Wreck? You think Cody can handle it?”

“I think Wreck is just the guy to keep Cody from doing stupid shit while keeping him happy and content to work hard and not take shortcuts to make money.”

“You’re starting to sound like a gossiping, match-making old hen in your twilight years,” Thorn laughed.

“These ain’t my twilight years, asshole,” Mark grumbled. “Not unless these brats put me in an early grave. I just know what some of them need and hope I can see to it that they get it. Don’t need them self-destructing and being stupid, not on my watch.”

“Sounds like a story there,” Cain mentioned.

“Long story short, I found out Cody’s been spending way more time at the track than he should be and losing way more money than he’s been willing to admit to.”

“Horses or dogs?” Thorn asked.

“Both,” Mark groaned. “So you see why I don’t have time to deal with Lucky’s shit?”

“Yeah, we hear yeah. So then, you approve of us taking on Lucky, if he’ll come?” Thorn asked.

“Oh, he’s leaving with you guys tonight, I’m issuing him a transfer. I won’t have his death on my conscious, I’ve got too many there as it is.”

Both Cain and Thorn could only nod at that, they each had one or two regrets in that department themselves.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Mark stepped around them both and walked along the sand, stepping into the warm heat of the bonfire and scanning until his eyes landed on Lucky. He shook his head at the bruised, haggard, disheveled condition he found the kid in. In the firelight, the dark circles beneath Lucky’s eyes stood out more prominently and his pale skin, coupled with the weight he’d lost, only added to the proof of the deterioration of Lucky’s condition.

“Lucky Strike, come ‘er,” Mark beckoned, startling him out of his glazed gazing into the fire. Mark watched Lucky scramble to his feet and nearly fall down in his efforts, before he sorted himself out and walked over to him.

“Walk with me,” Mark instructed and headed off down the beach, leaving no room for argument.

Lucky followed, not like he would have argued, Mark was the president and if he wanted Lucky to follow him, then he’d follow or deal with consequences.

“I hear you got in some trouble tonight.”

It was a statement, not a question, and Lucky didn’t even bother with a reply.

“You know, there’s an ancient saying about how saving someone’s life means you’re responsible for them. Thorn and Cain pulling you out of the water tonight, I’m pretty sure that’s the only thing keeping us from having another of these bonfire nights a week or two from now. What the hell were you doing swimming there without a damned wetsuit this time of year?”

“Seemed like a good idea at the time,” Lucky muttered.

“And how’d that work out for ya?”

“Not very well,” Lucky bit out. Mark knew he was trying to keep his anger in check.

“Yeah, well, it was stupid, Lucky, and reckless and irresponsible and…”

“I get it,” Lucky snapped, interrupting him, something he clearly knew he really should never do.

“I wasn’t done yet and no, you don’t ‘get it’ or you wouldn’t have been out there in the first place. Were you trying to drown? If you were, then tell me so I can get you some professional fucking help.”

Lucky was silent for several minutes before he answered, “I didn’t go into the water wanting something bad to happen to me. I just, I wanted to clear my head, the water has always been good for that. I was floating there, looking at the sky just thinking about everything or trying not to think, I’m not really sure which, and the wind picked up and the waves got a bit choppy and I kinda sank for a bit and when I came up I realized how far away from shore I’d drifted so I swam back. It was hard to get on the rocks, they were slippery and the waves were really starting to crash against them and I lost my footing and started getting bashed around and sucked under by the current.”

“I don’t know what the hell you were thinking!” Mark exploded. “You could have drowned! You could have gotten slammed against those rocks hard enough to knock you out and again, you could have drowned. Your life is more valuable than that, Lucky! Damnit too many people here care about you to allow you to just throw your life away.”

“I’m not trying to –”

“Aren’t you!” Mark snapped. “Isn’t that exactly what you’ve been doing? It’s time you get your head outta your ass. If you refuse to be safe and look after yourself then its high time someone else takes charge and gives you the attention you so clearly need and deserve.”

Lucky froze, blinking as he tried to digest Mark’s words. “Huh?”

“What part are you having trouble with?”

“The part where you’re saying I need someone to take charge of me.”

“Are you going to stand there and deny that you’ve had a colossal amount of issues since your old man passed? I was willing to look away for a little while, but I won’t let you put your life in jeopardy anymore.”

“So I don’t get a choice in the matter?”

“Yeah, actually, you do. You can go with them, work at their surf shop and try to learn something new to apply your skills to, or you can go with them and act like a jackass and get yourself sent back here, at which point I’ll be pretty pissed.”

“Are you kicking me out of the club?”

“Not yet, but don’t push me on this. You’ll lose.”

***

Lucky studied the set of Mark’s jaw and the way the gruff older man’s eyes seemed to be trying to peer into his soul. For a second, Lucky was tempted to spill all of his secrets, admit to the mistakes he’d made, the lies he’d told and the grief he felt, then he snapped his mouth shut and crossed his arms, matching stubborn with more stubbornness.

“You can glare at me all you want,” Mark told him as he took a drag off his cigarette and winced a little. “I really need to quit these damned things or at the very least, cut down on how many I’ve been smoking,” he muttered under his breath.

“It feels really good to be so unwanted,” Lucky snapped.

“Listen kid, they asked if they could have you come down and work for them at their shop. They want to see what you can airbrush on boards. You have a chance at something good here. If you give it your all and it doesn’t work out, you’re always welcome to come home. Just promise you’ll try to get to know them and work hard at the tasks they give. You scared me tonight, kiddo, do you know how badly it would have shredded the club if you’d gotten yourself killed ?”

Another bitter laugh from Lucky. “If Pops couldn’t be bothered to stick around and stay with me, why should anyone else?” Lucky said low. “I get it, I’m a fuck-up and the sooner you wash your hands of me, the better. I’ll go home and pack if that’s all, Prez.”

“Lucky…”

For a moment, they glared at one another, Lucky letting all the pain, rage and bitterness show before he shoved it behind a mask of indifference.

Mark frowned and shook his head. “Yeah, that’s all,” Mark said at last and remained where he was standing as Lucky turned and walked away.

At the bonfire, Lucky paused, wanting to tell Cody what was happening and at least say goodbye, but Cody once again ignored him when Lucky caught his eyes. Turning, Lucky spotted the second group off in the distance and headed over, hoping they were ready to leave.

***

“How pissed does he look?” Cain asked as he nudged Thorn.

“How pissed would you be?” Thorn shot back.

Someone caught Lucky by the arm, impeding his progress for a moment to ask how he was, but the younger man just shook himself free and growled, “Fuck off.”

Lucky came to stand before the two men, glaring. “I’m supposed to go with you.”

“Yes, you are,” Thorn said, his arms crossed over his chest. “Do you have any questions for us before we go?”

“No, so can we get the fuck outta here already?”

Thorn’s eyes narrowed.

“Why don’t you try that again?” Cain asked.

“Fine,” Lucky said. “Why, the fuck would you want me to come work for you?”

“A bunch of reasons,” Cain told him. “Starting with that we’ve heard what you can do with an airbrush and ending with the fact that we think you would make a good submissive.”

Lucky glanced between them and scowled. “How would you know? Shouldn’t you at least let me suck your cocks so you can decide if I’m any good or not? How about I make it easy on you both, I am good, but I’m not for sale.”

“Let’s start off on the right foot, shall we,” Thorn said, his voice having taken on a deep, authoritative tone. “Until we have a chance to get to know one another, you’re starting off as our employee. You’ll live with us, in our guest room and when you address either of us, it will be as Sir or by name, and without all of the attitude and the cussing so try again.”

Lucky blinked, hands fisting at his sides.

“I’m waiting!” Thorn barked. “The shit you pulled tonight proves you need discipline, and that’s what you’re going to learn. Maybe if you’d listened when your Prez was giving orders and answered when he was asking questions, you wouldn’t be getting transferred right now.”

Lucky jerked at the rough tone in Thorn’s voice, but stayed silent, refusing to answer properly.

“I can see you’re gonna be a struggle from jump. That’s fine, you’ll learn or you’ll be back here so fast you’ll think your britches are on fire,” Thorn told him. “Let’s go pack your shit, tomorrow we’ll go over all the rules.”

“I’d rather go over the rules now,” Lucky replied, refusing to move.

“I’d rather go over the rules now, Sir,” Thorn corrected him. “And seeing as how you can’t handle the first one, you can wait until tomorrow for the rest of them.”

“Yeah? Well, how many are there?”

Thorn’s eyes narrowed, Lucky held his ground, eyes narrowing as well, the two engaged in a stare down and a full on test of wills.

“You know what, forget it, it’s not going to work. Stay here, drown yourself, do whatever. You clearly have no discipline or self-control, so whatever. I don’t have the time to suffer stubborn fools,” Thorn told him.

“I never called my Pops or my Old Man, Sir, so why should I say it to you?” Lucky replied.

“Because it shows discipline and respect, two things you’re sorely lacking.”

“Is there a problem already,” Mark asked from behind Lucky.

“Yeah, I was just getting a taste of just how stubborn your boy here is and I don’t think he’ll work out after all. If he can’t handle a single, basic instruction, no way is he gonna be able to work in the shop, let alone live in our house.”

“Really, Lucky?” Mark groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I give up. Take him or leave him, in the morning, kid, you’ve got to find somewhere else to live and someplace to work that isn’t owned by anyone in the MC. You’re done here, at least for the next six months, consider yourself on suspension, I can’t deal with your shit anymore. Self-destruct elsewhere if that’s what you’re bound and determined to do.”

Lucky’s jaw dropped and a strangled growl escaped his throat. Thorn could see he was practically vibrating with anger and only Cain’s sudden grip on his arm stopped him from saying things that would have cost him much, much more than he’d already lost.

“All right, deep breaths everyone and quit P-M-Sing,” Cain said. “Lucky will figure things out just fine, he just needs time to get to know us and settle in. Why don’t we head back to the compound and get his things and then we’ll be on our way. Its early still and the fire is starting to burn low.”

“Good idea, let’s get going before he ends up with two near drowning incidents in the same night,” Mark said, and headed for his bike.

***

Lucky said nothing, just followed the others to the bikes, only giving in to a long stream of curses as they drove back to the compound. Alone on his bike, where he could focus for a moment without everyone telling him what was best for him and how bad he was screwing up, he thought about what Mark was trying to do for him. There were only so many bikes he could detail and a chance to paint surfboards was pretty cool. They were just a larger version of the skateboard he used to paint when he was younger, and he’d always loved the intricate details he’d been able to put into those.

He had to admit that Cain and Thorn were nice to look at, even if Thorn’s rules were already ticking him off. Who the hell did he think he was, anyway, to demand that he be called Sir like they were in the dungeon and Thorn was trying to Dom him.

He’d had enough of people in his life trying to order him around without any care for who he was and what he wanted. Just because he enjoyed giving up control to others didn’t mean he wanted anyone to demand it. Maybe once he’d really wanted a collar and everything that might have come with it, but not now, not anymore. Not like anyone would have ever offered to give him one. He just hoped these guys shoved the idea of adding him to any relationship out of their minds ‘cause he wasn’t interested. Now if they wanted to fuck, that he could handle. Hell, he’d be more than happy to have either of them take him against the wall or any other hard surface that might support them, as long as Thorn didn’t say another word while he was doing it.

He was so pissed about the way the night had turned out and furious over being transferred away and ordered to live with strangers that he almost missed the turn to the compound. By the time he’d pulled in and pulled up to the main clubhouse, parked and headed inside, the others were already in the den, talking. Lucky walked past them silently, heading for his room, only to be stopped by Mark who tossed a couple backpacks his way, like Lucky didn’t have enough of his own.

Standing there in the lamplight, Lucky took a moment to glance around the space before he started emptying the dresser drawers and stuffing his clothes in the bags. It wasn’t like he had much to take, his airbrush kit and knives took up almost a whole backpack on its own, and the rest of the stuff was mostly music and movies.

When he was done, he picked up his jacket and looked at it lovingly. It was dusty and old and had belonged to his Pops when he was much younger. With trembling hands he pulled the vest with his kutte on it off of the jacket and held it in his hands. For several minutes he just stared at it, remembering how proud he’d been to earn it and how proud his Old Man and his Pops had been of him. He guessed at this point he was all out of people to believe in him now. With a sigh he laid the Kutte on the bed and patted it one final time, a loving caress over the Rollin’ Jokers emblem before he turned his back on it.

He returned to the den with the bags, where Thorn, Mark and Cain waited. Mark scowled as he eyed him up and down.

“Where the hell is your kutte!” he demanded as he surged to his feet.

“On the bed in the room,” Lucky replied. “You can chuck the rest of that crap in the trash.”

“Why?” Mark sputtered.

“You kicked me out of here, remember? Which means I’ve got no home, no club and no family.”

Mark lunged for him and Thorn slammed a hand across his chest to keep him pinned beside him.

“Time to go before someone gets hurt,” Cain said, taking two of Lucky’s bags. Soon as they had everything secured on the bikes they were on their way.

The ride to the Kill Devil Hills took three and a half long, miserable hours. Normally it would have been a pleasant drive, but on this night, the winds kicked up and a light rain began to fall. Lucky shivered so hard he nearly laid his bike down twice. He knew he should have changed his clothes before starting off, but he’d been so pissed at Mark he’d just wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible. As usual though, the only one he hurt with his stupid, reckless decisions was himself.

He was grateful when they pulled into a double decker beach house style home with decks on both levels. Lucky rested his head on the handlebars and closed his eyes, suddenly very scared and uncertain. He’d never lived anywhere but at the compound and now, well, he barely knew these men. There was no way this was going to work, so when it failed, he was screwed, he’d have nowhere to go and nothing but the shit that was in his bags.

“Come on, Lucky,” Cain said as he carded his fingers through Lucky’s damp hair.

Funny, but Lucky hadn’t even heard him approach and he was too tired to be startled by the uninvited contact.

“You’re not going to get any warmer sitting out here,” Cain told him, trying to prompt him into action.

Lucky lifted his head and met Cain’s eyes feeling devastated and exhausted. Slowly, Lucky eased himself off the bike and fumbled with the bags, trying to detach them.

“Leave them, we’ll get them, you go inside,” Cain told him, taking him firmly by the arm and turning him toward the house.

“Yes, Sir,” Lucky rasped, defeated, his voice sounding hoarse, his body ached and all he wanted was to lay down somewhere warm and let Cain stroke his hair all night. If calling the man Sir would get him some affection, then at this point, Lucky was willing to do it.

Lucky moved away from Cain and shambled inside. He’d barely gotten past the doorway when he encountered Thorn. Ducking his head, Lucky moved to ease past him when the big man grabbed his arm and gestured him back outside.

“We’re not your valets,” Thorn told him harshly. “Bring your own shit in.”

Lucky shot a confused glance between Thorn and the door, opening his mouth to tell him that Cain had been the one to send him in, but the dark, angry scowl that marred Thorn’s face just made Lucky snap his mouth closed and head back out to the bike, fumbling with his stuff again.

“What the…” Cain sputtered as he hoisted one of Lucky’s bags onto his shoulder.

“He told me too,” Lucky replied wearily, before his body was wracked with a coughing fit.

Cain sighed and shook his head. “Just…grab your stuff and go before you end up with pneumonia,” Cain said, detaching the bags from the bike and thrusting them into Lucky’s arms before turning him toward the door.

Lucky stumbled into the house with them and stood in the entryway, clutching them and shivering as he waited for Cain to follow with the bags he’d carried on his own machine.

“Your room is down here,” Cain said after he’d closed the door and turned off the front light.

Lucky followed him through a den with a wraparound couch, and a large German Shepard with a happily wagging tail who was prancing all around Cain and occasionally sniffing Lucky.

“What’s your dog’s name,” Lucky rasped, staring down at the beautiful animal, one hand poised over its back, itching to pet it.

“Roscoe, and he loves to have his back rubbed and his ears scratched, though it would be better if you waited until you were warm and dry for proper introductions.”

“Yes, Sir,” Lucky replied and continued to follow him into a room located on the far side of the den.

He could hear the jingle of Roscoe’s tags as the big dog followed them until Cain ordered him to go lay down. In the bedroom there was a double bed and a dresser, an entertainment center with a TV, DVD player and video game system, and an easy chair set up in front of it for easy game play. Lucky wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but it wasn’t this. This was kinda cool and very comfortable looking.

“Get out of those wet clothes and get a hot shower,” Cain instructed. “Towels and stuff are in the cabinet in the bathroom beneath the sink. You have an en-suite bathroom, just through that door over there. Closets to the left, there should be some hangers in there.”

“Th-thanks,” Lucky stammered as he stepped in and placed the bags he carried beside the ones Cain had already put down.

“You’re already chilled, make sure you dry your hair good. I’m gonna grab you another blanket for the bed.”

Lucky managed a smile. What he really wished he could do was get a quick, hot shower and then curl up tight to Cain and hope the other man might stroke his hair some more ‘cause that had really felt good earlier, but of course, his luck was shit, and Cain turned and left the room, returning a few minutes later with a thick, fluffy blanket, a first aid kit and a scowl.

“Thought I told you to get out of those wet clothes and get in the shower, when you’re done, clean up those scraps on your arms before they get infected, then you should probably take your ass to bed before you find another way to piss Thorn off tonight.”

“I think there are some on my back too, from the wall,” Lucky tried to explain.

“Then come find me and I’ll clean them up for you, okay?”

“Yes, Sir,” Lucky said softly, eyes on the ground as he shuffled off to the bathroom. He wasn’t off to a good start, that was for sure, and he seriously doubted cuddling would be on the table anytime soon.

Seeing as Lucky had finally gone to get warm, Cain headed to the kitchen where Thorn was making coffee, the strong aroma of dark roast permeating through the kitchen.

“Seriously, Thorn, you couldn’t have brought in one bag?”

“When he shows some damned respect I’ll consider showing some compassion,” Thorn replied gruffly.

“He called me Sir, a couple times now,” Cain said nonchalantly as he poured himself a steaming mug of java and stirred a spoonful of sugar in. “And I’m pretty sure he’s caught a chill and a nasty cough too.”

“Great, so now he’s going to be lying around for the next few days looking for sympathy and expecting us to wait on him hand and foot.”

“Somehow I doubt that, besides, you never minded bringing me ginger ale and soup when I was feeling like crap.”

“You’ve never made me want to throttle the hell outta you.”

Cain put his mug down a little harder than he needed to, liquid sloshing over the side as he fixed Thorn with a heated glare. “Bullshit, and you know it. If you didn’t want him here then why didn’t you say something back at the compound, or hell, before we even headed down there? I thought we’d agreed we wanted him.”

“And now I’m not so sure. And for the record, I did say something, remember, before we got to the compound I said I didn’t think it was going to work out, that he was too stubborn, but you decided to bring him anyway.”

“True, but—” Cain began before the jangle of Roscoe’s tags drew both of their attention and they looked up to see him standing in the doorway to the kitchen, sniffing and nudging Lucky’s hand, trying to entice Lucky to pet him.

“I’ll go—” Lucky said, his voice scratchy and rough. He coughed several times and glanced between the two. “I’m sorry for any trouble I caused tonight.”

***

Thorn glared at him, then noticed how flushed his face was and the lost look in Lucky’s eyes. Stalking forward, he reached to touch his forehead, shocked when Lucky flinched.

“I’m pissed at you, but I’m not gonna hurt you,” Thorn told him, gentling his voice. He lay his hand over Lucky’s forehead and immediately felt how warm he was. “You’re burning up, go get out of those wet things and get in bed.”

“Why aren’t you in the shower, didn’t I already tell you twice to get those wet things off and get in there,” Cain stated, stepping up to Lucky’s side.

“Yes, Sir,” he said softly, “but, I, um, couldn’t figure out how to work the shower.”

Cain smacked his hand to his head and drew it down his face. “Sorry about that. I should have shown you. Someone wanted some fancy push button features installed and some days they’re more trouble than they’re worth.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Thorn muttered as Cain escorted Lucky back to the room and explained to him how to work the shower. By the time he returned to the kitchen, Thorn was making a sandwich and had the small TV on the kitchen counter turned to a sports commentary show. Thorn turned and caught sight of Cain watching him, lips twitching as if he was trying not to laugh.

“What?” Thorn grumbled.

“You know damn well what.”

“Okay, he’s sick, you were right, couldn’t really let him wander out of here in that condition. We did promise to try and watch over him.”

“We promised to do more than try,” Cain reminded him. “Did you ever consider that maybe you just went at him too hardcore, especially with everything else that was going on?”

“Okay, maybe it was the wrong approach, but I wanted to see how much of a challenge he was gonna be, and I don’t know, Cain, he’s changed,” Thorn grumbled.

“Maybe, how would we know for sure? We’ve never dealt with him outside the dungeon, and don’t forget, he doesn’t know that we were the ones who were with him.”

“Yeah, and right now, I don’t think we should even bother telling him. Let’s see how he paints and leave the rest out of it.”

“Fine, have it your way, but I think it’s a mistake to keep it from him,” Cain said as yanked open the door to the fridge to rummage around.

Thorn flopped into a seat and grumbled, “We’ll see.”

Cain smacked his hands on the countertop separating them and glared into Thorn’s face. “What’s this really all about and don’t give me any bullshit about him being stubborn or refusing to call you Sir, ‘cause that ain’t it.”

“Damnit, Cain!” Thorn growled before he started pacing. “He could have died tonight. He could have fucking drowned. If he’s that damned reckless then I don’t think I want things to work out between the three of us. We wouldn’t be able to trust him to take care of himself.”

“Isn’t that the point?” Cain asked gently as he rounded the corner to pull Thorn into his arms. “He can’t be trusted to take care of himself so we have to take care of him until he learns to do so. We have to teach him to value himself and everything we want to offer him.”

“But…” Thorn muttered.

“I know. I was scared too. But we’re already attached to him, it’s too late to change that and would we really, really want to?”

“No,” Thorn admitted with a sigh.

“Eat your sandwich and go put on a movie, I’ll be in after I tend to the scraps on his back from the wall.”

“Damn, I didn’t even see those, I was too busy checking out his ink.”

“I didn’t see them either,” Cain explained, “Lucky’s the one who told me about them. So see, maybe he isn’t as reckless as we thought. Maybe it was just a bad night. He just buried his Pops, we have to cut him a little bit of slack.”

“Fine, but only a little. I don’t want to see him hurt.”

“Neither do I, Thorn, I care about him way too much for that.”

With a nod, Thorn finally backed up and took a seat at the table, barely tasting his sandwich as he ate it, then headed to his room.

***

Cain sat on the couch with Roscoe and waited for Lucky to emerge so he could treat his wounds. As he rubbed Roscoe’s ears, he found himself wondering what the days ahead were going to be like. If Mark hadn’t been about to go ballistic, Cain would have told Lucky to change before they left. Regardless of Mark’s fury they should have insisted Lucky put on something dry. Now all they could do was hope it didn’t turn into anything serious.

CHAPTER EIGHT

“Lucky, hey, how are you feeling this morning?” Cain asked as he sat on the edge of Lucky’s bed and reached out to touch his cheek. It was burning up with fever, the same as it had been the day before.

Groaning, Lucky curled on his side and coughed painfully, half dangling off the side of the bed by the time he was done.

“Damn,” Cain muttered as he gently moved Lucky back onto the center of the bed and tucked the blankets around him firmly.

“How is he?” Thorn asked from the doorway.

“Worse than yesterday, if that’s even possible, I think his fever has gone up.”

“Let me get the thermometer.”

Cain nodded, not even glancing at the door, he could hear Thorn leave and his footsteps as he returned, then Thorn was standing beside him, pressing the thermometer to Lucky’s lips and coaxing him to open his mouth so they could slip it under his tongue. Once it was in place, Thorn pressed the back of his hand to Lucky’s forehead and let out a hiss.

“I think you’re right, he does feel hotter,” Thorn said, and gently caressed Lucky’s cheek.

Lucky moaned around the thermometer and blinked glazed eyes up at the pair.

When the thermometer beeped, Thorn gently took it from Lucky’s mouth and looked at the numbers.

“103.1, it did go up, if it goes up any more, he’s going to the hospital,” Thorn declared.

Cain nodded. “I agree, I’ll call you if I end up having to take him.”

“No, you have boards that need shaping, I’ll stay with Lucky Strike and if I have to take him to the hospital I’ll call and let you know.”

“But—”

“No buts, the boards aren’t going to shape themselves and we both know I don’t have the skill for it, that’s always been your thing. I’ll make some soup and make sure he gets some down, and some ice cream too. We’ll be fine.”

Cain let out a heavy exhale and nodded. “Okay, all right, I’ll go get ready for work.”

“And I’ll get started on that soup,” Thorn said, caressing Lucky’s cheek one last time before he headed for the kitchen.

***

In the kitchen, Thorn put some chicken breasts in the microwave to defrost, and got started on cutting vegetables, making sure to dice the carrots, onion, and celery really small so they would be easier for Lucky to eat. He tossed them and some broth in a pot, adding some chicken base to complete the flavor, then diced and sautéed the chicken breasts before adding them too. Rummaging around in the pantry he uncovered a half packet of the pasta stars that Cain always loved when he was sick. Hoping Lucky would like them too, Thorn tossed them in and stirred the pot, keeping a close watch on it until it was done.

He dug out some crackers and put them on plate, ladled soup in a bowl and poured Lucky a small glass of ginger-ale that Cain had run out and grabbed late the night before, then carried it all to the bedroom on a tray, which he sat on the dresser. Lucky looked to be sleeping, curled on his side and clutching one of the pillows, and Thorn couldn’t help but worry at how flushed his face looked.

“Hey kid, come on and wake up for a few minute, you need to eat,” Thorn insisted and patiently waited as Lucky struggled to rouse himself and focus. He couldn’t sit up on his own so Thorn helped him, propping pillow behind his back and making sure he was secure before reaching for the glass.

“Here, sip this slowly, it’s ginger-ale, it will help you feel better.”

“I-I can’t,” Lucky rasped, before doubling over with another long bough of coughing.

“I know you don’t feel like it, but you need to drink so you won’t get dehydrated.”

“Ca-can’t drink ginger-ale, I’m allergic to ginger.”

“Shit,” Thorn muttered, moving the offending soda away from him.

“S-sorry,” Lucky stammered, then broke into sobs. For a moment, Thorn could only stand there, completely at a loss for what to do at this unexpected bout of crying, then he shook his head, put the glass down, and sat on the side of the bed, gathering Lucky in his arms and holding him tight as he wept. When he’d settled down, Thorn held him for a little while longer, stroking his hair and back as Lucky coughed let out pathetic sounding moans.

Propping Lucky back against the pillows, Thorn went to the bathroom, wet a cool cloth and washed his face, then picked up the now lukewarm bowl of soup and slowly spoon fed Lucky the contents, grateful when he was able to get most of it down.

“I’ll run out in a bit and get you some lemon-lime soda,” Thorn told him.

Lucky’s reply was to nestle his head against Thorn’s shoulder and close his eyes. “Thanks,” he muttered sleepily.

Thorn waited until he was out cold to move Lucky, then tucked him back in and carried the tray away, dumping the ginger-ale in the sink. Roscoe pranced around his legs, so he let him out into the yard while he went upstairs, grabbed his wallet, then headed to the kitchen to grab the grocery list, figuring he’d get that out of the way too.

Still, he was hesitant to be gone for long and let Roscoe in with Lucky so he wouldn’t wake up alone. It ended up being one of his quickest trips to the store ever, as he all but ran down the aisles, grabbing what they needed, including several two liters of lemon-lime soda, loading it all into the rarely used SUV and heading home.

He left the groceries by the door in order to check on Lucky first thing, satisfied when he saw that Lucky was still asleep with Roscoe sprawled on the foot of his bed. Only then did he go about putting away the groceries and making himself a sandwich for lunch.

He sat in the chair in the corner of Lucky’s room to eat it, watching over him while he slept, and when Lucky started thrashing and calling out for his dad, Thorn was right there with a cold compress and soothing words, telling him stories of his days down in Florida, when he’d practically been a beach bum and spent more than one night sleeping under the pier and his mornings and evenings surfing his life away. He even managed to get a dazed laugh or two out of the muttering younger man.

He spoon fed him ice cream later in the afternoon and more soup at dinner and by the time Cain came home, Lucky’s fever was down to 101.8 and he was sleeping a bit less restlessly.

“Long day?” Thorn asked as Cain sat to eat the meal Thorn had made.

“Busy as usual, but I was able to finish one board and start another. Missed you though, how were things here?”

“Lucky is allergic to ginger, so I made a quick run out for lemon-lime soda and other supplies. Roscoe seems to have taken to him, too. Ended up spending the afternoon telling him stories, he’s a little grabby when he’s sick, likes to cuddle too. All in all it was as nice a day as could be expected with him sick as hell.”

Cain smiled a little. “Sounds to me like you enjoyed being needed.”

“I enjoy that we finally have him here. It’s been a long time coming, and while we’re not off to the greatest start, at least it’s something,” Thorn pointed out.

***

On Thursday, Lucky was feeling better and asked to see the shop so he could get started painting for them, but Cain insisted he stay home and rest.

“Monday will be soon enough to start,” Cain told him. “Besides, we haven’t gone over the rest of the rules yet. We’ll do that tonight, after dinner. Can you cook?”

Lucky nodded, then gave Cain an almost shy little smile, “A few things.”

“Okay, have at it. We’ll be home by six.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Thorn left the table with a grumble, since Lucky had gone right back to ignoring him as soon as his fever had broke. Cain lingered for a moment to run his fingers through Lucky’s hair, intrigued when Lucky sighed, closed his eyes and relaxed beneath his touch as if he were trying to fall asleep or something. When Cain pulled his hand away it took Lucky a moment to open his eyes again and when he did, his expression was almost unreadable, though Cain did detect the faintest hint of sadness there.

“He um, really doesn’t like my ass being here, does he?” Lucky asked and Cain couldn’t help but laugh.

“Your ass he likes just fine.” Cain chuckled. “I know you guys got off to a rough start. Just keep working on rule number one and you should do okay.”

“I’m not gonna call him sir, Sir,” Lucky replied defiantly. The scowl was back on his face and he crossed his arms, looking like a carbon copy of Thorn when he got all pissed and self-righteous.

God this was gonna be fun and there sure as hell were gonna be fireworks, if these two didn’t completely alienate one another before they could figure out just how much alike they were, Cain thought as he stifled a smile.

“Try,” Cain urged him and stroked his hair one last time before heading off to work with Thorn.

***

Being at the shop was always a calming influence on Thorn. He loved everything about surfing, from selling new boards, wax and leashes, to talking with fellow surfers about the flux of the waves and where the best ones of the season could be found. They specialized in full length boards, short boards, fish tails, body boards and paddle boards and just about anything else that involved a board and water and enjoying the day trying to ride the waves, and when things weren’t busy, Thorn could usually be found talking to the fish in his tank in between doing inventory. Which was what he was doing when the bell over the door jingled and two men walked in.

“Hey, bro,” the slightly doughy, frat boy looking blond said as soon as he caught sight of Thorn, who had a hard time keeping himself from rolling his eyes. “Wonderin’ if you would help us out, dude.”

“Fuckin’ wannabe,” Thorn muttered beneath his breath as he approached them.

“Do you modify boards here, bro?” the second guy asked. He looked about as college frat boy as his buddy, probably down here visiting or on some kind of expensive vacation, judging by the newness of the board.

“We do,” Thorn told him.

“Man, can you make these things really shred, bro?” the first asked. “Put a long fin on the front and a short one on the back of each of these, down turn and round the rails and make all the boards curvier?”

For a moment, Thorn just froze, blinking and trying to decide if he’d just heard what he thought he’d heard, then he turned toward the back office and bellowed for Cain.

“Oh, so now you’re gonna yell?” Cain asked as he poked his head out.

“In this case, yeah, come over here, will ya?”

Cain did, rubbing the back of his neck to get out the crick that had been forming as he’d worked on paying the bills. “What’s up?”

“These guys want long fins on the front of their boards, short fins on the backs of them, down turned and rounded rails, and curvier boards on top of everything else.”

Thorn knew Cain’s first response would have been to laugh, if this wasn’t their place of business and the one place in the world where they were supposed to act like professionals, but looking at those boards and listening to what the pair were asking for, half of which contradicted each other, and he knew Cain was sorely tempted to laugh in their faces and go back to the shaping shack, Thorn could see it on his face.

“Not possible,” however, was what he eventually said.

“And why not!” the blond asked, puffing up. The fake valley boy accident was gone, replaced with the kind of snobbish entitlement that only the truly rich seemed to manage to cultivate in their voice.

“Because,” Cain tried to explain patiently, understanding fully now exactly why Thorn had called for him. Thorn tended to be a bit short tempered with little pricks like this. “Some of those modifications would cancel each other out and you’d pretty much be left with useless pieces of fiberglass.”

The three looked between themselves, then glared back at Cain. “Maybe what you’re really saying is that you guys aren’t good enough to do that kind of work here.”

“Yeah, sure, that’s exactly what we’re saying,” Cain chuckled sarcastically. “Try the place about three miles north, see what they say.”

“We will,” the second frat boy snapped. “We didn’t want our boards worked on here anyway.”

As the trio headed for the door, Thorn couldn’t resist getting in a parting shot. “Those are some pretty fancy boards there, pretty expensive too, too bad they don’t hold up well to being shaved down or modified. Inferior design you see.”

“There is nothing inferior about these board,” the third guy finally huffed, his voice a little high pitched and whiny. “Come on, guys, let’s go, we shouldn’t have stopped in here in the first place, this shop is too low rent to even know what to do with our boards.”

And with that they slammed out of the shop, the bell jingling wildly behind them.

Thorn burst out laughing. “Three miles north, huh, Kade is gonna hate you.”

“Yeah, well, I owed him one for sending that crazy guru down here to us last summer.”

Thorn doubled over now, slapping his knee. “I’d almost forgotten about him. I swear you looked like you were gonna blow a gasket every time he walked through the door. And you call me a hot head.”

“The only reason I looked that way was ‘cause the guy kept waving that clump of seashells at me and telling me I needed to find my inner wave. About the only wave I wanted to find was the one that would carry him out of here forever. Was so glad when he decided to move on up the coast.”

“Yeah, I wonder what happened to him,” Thorn muttered.

“No! Don’t do that, it’s bad juju, you might conjure him up and the last thing we need is a winter with him hanging around plaguing our every working day with shells and philosophy.”

“You know,” Thorn joked, “for someone who’s lived around the beach all of his life, you’ve really got a thing against shells. What’s up with that?”

Cain just narrowed his eyes, crossed his arms, and tapped his foot. He must have realized that the sun was setting because he then checked his watch. “It’s ten minutes after closing, thank the gods.” He headed to the door and locked it.

“Come on, let’s go home before I decide to find a conch to stuff you in.”

“Sounds kinky, baby,” Thorn laughed as he followed Cain to the back.

“Only you would think that.”

As he threw his leg over the back of his bike, Thorn’s stomach rumbled, reminding him of how long it had been since lunch.

“Hope he’s got dinner ready,” Thorn grumbled, “I’m starved and in the mood to just fall on the couch and watch movies tonight.”

“Sounds good to me, after we go over the rules with Lucky.”

Sighing, Thorn rubbed his temples and groaned, “Forget ‘em, he ain’t gonna follow them anyway.”

“You don’t know that. The least we can do is give him a chance. Ease up on him, will ya, he was still calling me Sir this morning.”

“I noticed, gotta be honest, I really did figure it was the fever talking and the fact that he was grateful to have a place to come in out of the rain. Guess I was wrong about that.”

“Yeah, you were, and who knows what else you were wrong about. So go easy, okay?”

“Just answer me this, why the hell does he have an issue saying it to me when he seems to be able to say it to you just fine? I’m the one that spent two days telling him stories and making sure he had something to eat and drink.”

“I don’t know, maybe he didn’t realize it was you. You said he was asking for his Old Man the entire time. Something tells me he needs a balanced hand, too firm and he’s just gonna rebel for the sake of rebelling.”

“Maybe, we’ll see how he responds to the rules,” Thorn said then fired up his bike.

They rode back home and parked their bikes in the garage before heading in. Cain looked pleased to see that Lucky’s bike was still there as well and didn’t look to have been moved. Thorn hadn’t been sure when they’d left that morning if he’d take off the first opportunity he had when he was alone and healthier.

Stepping inside, a spicy aroma hit them immediately, and Thorn’s mouth began to water. They pulled off their boots and left them on the bench by the door, then headed to the kitchen.

“What’s for dinner?” Cain asked as he dropped down into a chair.

“Chili cheese dogs and potato salad, Sir, and it’s done if you’re ready to eat,” Lucky replied. He looked like he’d showered and brushed out his hair and while he was a little pale, he looked healthier than they’d seen him look all week.

“Damn, works for me,” Thorn said and headed for the cabinet to get plates.

Cain met him at the stove and they dished up their portions, Cain motioning for Lucky to join them so he got a little and sat down with them at the table.

“You need to eat more, you’re too skinny,” Cain remarked.

“Yes, Sir,” Lucky remarked as they dug in. “Just wasn’t very hungry tonight. I fell asleep and ate lunch late. Sitting around doing nothing doesn’t build much of an appetite.”

Cain nodded. “Understandable.”

“This is really good,” Thorn praised after several bites.

“Thank you,” Lucky replied.

Thorn glanced up at him, waiting to see if he’d add anything more to that sentence, and when he didn’t, he decided to just let it slide this time instead of getting into another battle of wills with him.

“Yeah kid, you did good,” Cain hurried to inform him before Thorn could change his mind about being silent. “Did everything go okay today?”

“Sort of,” Lucky admitted after he’d swallowed the bite he was chewing. “I did laundry and vacuumed before I fell asleep. Got the breakfast dishes done too. But some guy came by at two, he said his name was Santiago, and that he was owed money. I told him he’d have to come back when you guys were here. He came back at three with another guy. I didn’t even open the door that time. They stood outside beating on it and yelling for a bit before the lady next door came out and threatened to call the cops, then they cussed her out and left. I tried calling the shop, but I kept getting the busy signal.”

“And you didn’t think to tell us this as soon as we walked through the door?” Thorn asked, though he was more pissed about Santiago having shown up there than he was about Lucky waiting a few extra minutes to tell them. There was no way he would have had of knowing what a problem Santiago was.

“I’m sorry,” Lucky said, and since he actually looked contrite, Thorn felt a little bad for snapping at him. “I just figured he was a contractor or something and was having a bad day.”

“Yeah, well, he’s really gonna be having a bad day if he pulls that shit again!” Thorn grumbled.

“You didn’t let Roscoe out afterwards, did you?” Cain asked as he looked around for the large German Sheppard.

Lucky shook his head. “No Sir, I took him out on his leash, let him do what he needed and brought him back in. I fed him too.”

“Well then where…” Thorn started to ask, then spotted Roscoe asleep under a blanket in front of the TV.

“You covered him with a blanket?” Cain asked, eyebrows raised as he studied Lucky.

“Yeah I um, kinda fell asleep down there with him for a little bit after I finished the potato salad. I had the blanket over both of us and he seemed happy so…”

Thorn chuckled a little and gave Lucky a nod of approval. “I bet he was, he’s spoiled rotten, but that’s the only kid we’ve ever had so, we indulge him. You did everything exactly right. We’ll deal with Santiago.”

Thorn was rewarded with a bright smile that lit up Lucky’s entire face, shocking him with how stunning Lucky was, even washed out and pale.

“Thank you,” Lucky responded softly.

“You’re welcome,” Thorn said, then the chatter stopped as they all turned their attentions toward finishing their meals.

Lucky stood and cleared the table when they were done and washed the three plates and glasses, drying them and putting them away. Every now and again his gaze shot to the two men and he let his eyes linger on them. With their size they both made him look small, and a tiny part of Thorn briefly wondered what it would be like to have him sandwiched between them.

“Come join us in the living room so we can have a chat,” Cain said.

“Yes, Sir,” Lucky replied and joined them, sitting in one of the easy chairs opposite the wrap around couch they sat on.

“We figured now would be a good time to talk to you about the rules. You seem to have managed to learn to address at least one of us as ‘Sir’, which I guess will have to do. Now let’s see how you do with the rest of them,” Cain explained.

“We have a rotating cooking schedule, so every third night is yours. We rotate doing the dishes too, and lawn, leaf, and laundry duties, along with the rest of the household crap. You’ll find yourself on the chart come Monday.”

“Chart?” Lucky asked, looking between the two quizzically.

“We put one up after a particularly unfortunate incident where the laundry piled up to seven loads and both of us were goin’ commando ‘cause we didn’t even have a clean pair of underwear left between us,” Thorn admitted sheepishly.

Lucky snickered, then he laughed, prompting Cain and Thorn to laughter too.

“Let’s just say that by the time we got done washing, drying, folding, and hanging everything, we decided that a chart was better than us stubbornly arguing over who’d done it last,” Cain explained. “New Chart gets put up on the side of the fridge every Monday morning. When you do something, check it off.”

“Yes, Sir,” Lucky said, still smiling brightly.

“Okay, sounds like that one won’t be an issue,” Thorn said. “Now, as for the next one, we talked about it and its temporary, we’re willing to drop it once you prove that you really aren’t out to hurt yourself in any way, but, for now, no going anywhere without one of us knowing where you are. That way if you don’t come back, at least we know where to start looking.”

Lucky bristled at that. “But I’m an adult—”

“Before you start flapping your gums, tell me how you’d feel if you couldn’t find someone you cared about and you knew they might be a danger to themselves?” Cain said gently.

Lucky’s face paled a little as he thought about Ray and how often he’d wondered if maybe there couldn’t have been a way that he could save him.

“Okay, Sir,” Lucky said. “I’ll tell you guys where I’m going before I go out.”

“Thank you,” Cain said earnestly.

“Next rule,” Thorn continued on. “No guns in the house, we don’t have any and we’re not giving you permission to bring any in here. If you need a weapon we have plenty of knives. No drugs unless they’re prescribed. Beer is for after work, with dinner, when we’re kicking back relaxing. There will be no drinking just to get drunk. If you harm yourself in any way, we will take you to the emergency room and have you evaluated. You are not to invite anyone over without clearing it with one of us first. We value our privacy and there are few people we let inside of our home. You will eat three meals a day, no skipping. You will talk to one of us if anything is bothering you, you will be paid for the work you do at the shop and you are expected to chip in for groceries and household items.”

“Understand this,” Cain added, before Lucky could say anything. “We’re not asking you to follow any rules that we don’t already live by. These aren’t special just for you, this is who we are and how we live our lives and yeah, both of us might have outlaw pasts the same as your dads, but we’re all about trying to live above board now and not invite bullshit into our lives.”

“Yes, Sir,” Lucky said softly.

“So if any of those are going to be a problem you might as well let us know now,” Thorn said.

“They’re fine, I don’t have an issue with any of them. I can follow all of those rules, none of those are unreasonable,” Lucky told them firmly. “I brought knives with me. I don’t own a gun.”

“Good deal,” Thorn said with a nod, there was even a faint smile on his face. “Now we get into the ones that might prove to be more difficult. There will be no outside dating, no hookups, no sex of any kind with anyone that isn’t with the two of us, at least not until we establish if this is or is not going to turn into a relationship between the three of us.”

Lucky bit his bottom lip, then nodded. “Am I allowed to jerk off at least?”

Thorn had to chuckle at that. “Jerking off is just fine, but the whoring around you’ve been doing isn’t healthy and it isn’t part of taking care of yourself. Tomorrow, you go and get tested and make sure you haven’t picked anything up.”

Lucky hung his head at that. It showed that he knew Thorn was right, but hated to admit it.

“Lucky,” Cain prompted. “Think you can manage to go do that?”

“Yes, Sir,” Lucky muttered. “It wasn’t as bad as Mark said though.”

“Uh-huh, are you saying you weren’t messing around with a lot of people?” Thorn asked.

“Kinda, but it wasn’t like I was following through with all of them,” Lucky said. “I didn’t fuck ‘em all. I didn’t even suck ‘em all, I just made sure they got off and that I got off too.”

“Okay,” Cain said with a nod. “That’s actually a good thing, but still, to be safe, you get tested, okay?”

“Yes, Sir,” Lucky replied.

“Why so many partners?” Thorn asked.

Lucky looked at the ground, chewed his lower lip, then finally looked back up at them and said. “I like to be touched. It feels good to get off.”

“So it’s all about the pleasure, not the person?” Cain asked.

Lucky frowned, thinking about it. “I’ve never been with anyone who wanted to be with me for me, except maybe Cody,” Lucky said, swallowing hard.

It clearly hurt him, and saying it out loud hurt more. He curled in on himself a little, and Cain shot Thorn a glare and nudged him with his knee, trying to implore him to tell Lucky the truth, but Thorn just held his gaze and shook his head no.

“So you’ve never had a relationship of any sort?” Thorn asked.

“No.”

Thorn raised an eyebrow, “You ever go on an actual date?”

Again Lucky looked thoughtful, having to really consider the question. “In high school, sometimes, to the movies and shit, grab a burger at the diner then go make out. When I got old enough, I just started going to bars to hook up, or going to Joker’s Wild.”

“So you like submitting to strangers?” Thorn asked.

Lucky’s eyes narrowed. “I still don’t get how you know I’m a sub?”

“’Cause you ain’t got the personality or the presence of a Dom,” Thorn said simply. “Now answer the question.”

Lucky’s jaw clenched and his eye twitched a little, but he answered it. “I like submitting, at least, I did.”

As that last part was said, he started curling in on himself again. Thorn shot Cain a look and Cain left the couch to go kneel beside Lucky’s chair, gently running his hand up Lucky’s arm.

“What happened, Lucky? Did someone hurt you or do something you didn’t like?” Cain asked.

A flash of fury so intense it made Cain shuffle back illuminated Lucky’s eyes.

“Someone was an asshole, but they didn’t hurt me,” Lucky said. “They just made me realize that I didn’t need to put up with anyone’s shit. Strangers fuck off and leave you alone when they’re done with you. It’s better that way.”

“And let me guess, the asshole someone hangs out at the dungeon, which is why you stopped hanging out there, isn’t it?” Thorn asked.

“How do you know about that?” Lucky asked, scowling.

“Mark was concerned, he told us quite a bit about your behavior recently,” Thorn explained, refusing to add that they had come down several times to try and spend some time with him only to find him gone.

“Was none of his business.”

“I see,” Thorn remarked, tapping his fingers together. “So does that mean you will be continuing to pussy out when we head up there?”

“It means I’m not going back to Joker’s Wild, ever,” Lucky informed him. “But not for the reasons you think. And no, the asshole doesn’t go to the dungeon, I didn’t meet him there and I’ve never seen him around the place.”

“Okay, then you can stay home when we go, that’s fine,” Cain said.

“To hell it is,” Thorn growled. “You wouldn’t tell Mark what it was that was going on with you, so you’ve got him playing guessing games ‘cause you’re what…too proud or too scared?”

“None of your business!” Lucky snapped.

“Coward!” Thorn threw right back. “How the hell did you patch into the Jokers in the first place or was it just an honorary thing since your Old Man helped found the club?”

Lucky’s voice was cold when he answered, and his eyes had taken on a hard, stubborn set. “Not goin’ back there, so it doesn’t matter which.”

“Good to know you have such shitty loyalty to your family,” Thorn said angrily.

Lucky’s eyes were blazing as he came up out of the chair. “Family doesn’t throw you away and they don’t kill themselves to get away from you. I’ve got no fuckin’ family.”

It was the tears that had suddenly begun to spill down Lucky’s cheeks and the softly whispered “I’ve got no one,” that stopped Thorn from getting up off the couch and shaking the hell out of him.

“Mark didn’t throw you away,” Thorn said as gently as he could manage. “He thinks we can help you.”

“Then why did he suspend me? Why did he say if you fail don’t come back?” Lucky shook his head. “He knows I’m gonna fail, you all do.”

“If you keep that attitude, then yes, you will fail spectacularly,” Thorn told him. “Now pull yourself together and listen to me.”

For several long seconds, Lucky and Thorn stared at each other, neither waving, both gazes increasing in intensity until Lucky’s shoulder’s sagged and he looked away.

“Losing your Old Man had to suck,” Thorn said. “Now add your Pops to that and yeah, you’ve had a shit time of it lately and you’re not coping well. Now, you follow the rules and you can earn your way back into Mark’s good graces or who knows, maybe you’ll choose to stay here.”

“I’m not ever going back,” Lucky snarled. “And I’m not staying here either. When I earn enough money I’ll get my Joker’s ink covered up and head across the country. I’m a descent artist, I’ll find work.”

Thorn sucked in a breath and when Cain went to say something, he held up his hand, stilling Cain’s words.

“Kid, I think you’ve missed something in translation over here,” Thorn said, trying to be patient. “Tell me why you think one of our rules for you is no hookups?”

“’Cause I’m a whore and you don’t want me picking up any diseases while I’m staying in your house,” Lucky replied.

Thorn pinched the bridge of his nose and counted to ten, then threw up his hands and counted to ten again.

“Lucky,” Cain began when he saw how frustrated Thorn was getting. “You’re sort of auditioning and not just for the position at the shop, which we’ll see how you do on Monday, because according to Mark you are more than just a ‘decent’ artist. We brought you here to try and get to know you so we can see how you fit with us. We thought you understood that we were looking for a third to our relationship and that both of us see something in you that leaves us wanting to see and know more.”

“What about what I want, Sir?” Lucky asked.

“It’s ultimately your choice if you want that with us or not. You always have the right to say no, but you’ve still got to follow the rules.”

“Then my choice is easy, Sir,” Lucky replied firmly. “If you like my work then I’ll work for you until I earn enough to take off, if not, I’ll pack what I can load on my bike and be out of your hair Tuesday morning.”

“So be it,” Thorn said, getting off the couch with a snarl and stalking upstairs to the master bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

***

“Why?” Cain asked, after the light fixture over their heads stopped shaking. He stood, studying Lucky’s face as he waited for an answer.

Lucky just gave him a sad half-smile. “’Cause I don’t wanna be a third wheel, Sir. When you get bored of me what will I have?”

“What makes you think we’d ever get sick of you?”

Lucky laughed bitterly. “Everyone gets sick of me, eventually, so why bother.”

“You’re the one who’ll be missing out,” Cain said.

“On what, Sir?” Lucky asked with the faintest hint of curiosity in his voice.

“Pleasure,” Cain said huskily as he hauled Lucky into his arms. “More pleasure than you’ve ever experienced before.”

Cain kissed him, pouring want, need and desire into the kiss, his hands stroking Lucky’s back before moving up to tangle in his hair so he could tip Lucky’s head back and lick and kiss his neck, his other hand sliding beneath Lucky’s shirt, stroking a pierced nipple and tugging lightly on the ring.

Lucky growled, and Cain did it again, harder, then worked his knee between Lucky’s legs and pressed against the growing arousal there.

Lucky let out a throaty, breathless moan and reached to tug Cain into a kiss, but Cain just moved away, chuckling.

“Think about it,” Cain said as he watched Lucky struggle to calm his breathing down. His face was flushed, his eyes were bright and judging from the outline in his jeans he was already half turned on.

“Why’d you stop?” Lucky whined as he inched closer, wanting to re-establish contact.

“’Cause you’re not interested,” Cain said as he turned and began to walk away. “At least not in anything we’re offering.” And with that he did go, following Thorn upstairs though without the slamming and stomping and kicking over a chair Thorn had done.

***

Lucky stood there for several minutes, shocked, frustrated and more than just a little annoyed. He ached, the kiss had been mind-blowing but more than that, it had seemed familiar, like being somewhere safe and desired. It wasn’t often that he felt that. There were many times when he craved contact, touches and caresses and the crush of another body held tight against his, but few times had ever been memorable and few of those other bodies had ever left him craving more.

Only two had left him reeling the way Cain had just done. Even Cody had never managed that. He hardly noticed when Roscoe moved to come stand pressed against his leg, but when the big dog whined, Lucky bent to rub his ears, allowing Roscoe to lick his face, his tail happily wagging.

“Well at least someone’s happy,” Lucky muttered, rubbing Roscoe’s ears one last time before he headed off to his room.

Flopping on the bed, he ran he threw one arm over his eyes while his other hand trailed down his chest and abs to the bulge in his jeans that hadn’t gone down yet. Sex was easy, sex was something he understood, but what they’d been talking about out in the den had confused the hell out of him. Who did that shit, asking someone else to join their relationship when they’d been together god knows how long? There was no way a third person would have any chance of being as meaningful to either of them as they were to each other. Hell, Lucky wasn’t even sure if he could be meaningful to anyone else now that his Pops was gone.

It was sobering, and with a sigh, Lucky decided that he’d prefer a cold shower to trying to jerk off with so many turbulent memories flashing through his mind.

CHAPTER NINE

In the master bedroom, Thorn heard the water come on and looked over at Cain. “Now what’s he doing? He didn’t go anywhere, what the hell does he need another shower for?”

“Pretty sure it’s a cold shower and I’m pretty sure I caused it,” Cain said, chuckling.

“You didn’t?” Thorn asked, eyes twinkling with merriment.

Cain just raised an eyebrow at him and grinned. “Of course I did. He needed to see what he’d be missing out on. He’s scared, Thorn, and thinks we just want him for a bit of fun before we get tired of him and cut him loose.”

“How do we know that won’t happen? He could be right. Besides, I think he’s lying. You heard him, he isn’t interested in attachment.”

“I thought you were as into this as I am?”

“I am, I’m just not convinced it will work out the way we’d planned. Maybe we put too much stock into a few encounters.”

“It was over twenty and we were starting to have to work overtime at our own shop just to make sure we had the extra gas money for all the running up and down the road we were doing to visit him at the club. If he hadn’t stopped showing up, we probably would have had another ten sessions with him before now. It was getting to the point where even when he wasn’t there he was there because we were thinking about him, wanting him, remembering what he tasted like, sounded like, and felt like between us.”

“I was there, I remember, hell I’m the one who suggested that we go down and bring him back.”

“Then why won’t you tell him that it was us that he was with, or let me tell him, just, dammit Thorn maybe it would make a difference to him to know that.”

“I doubt it. Hell I doubt we meant anything more to him than a night of fun to be forgotten until we showed up again.”

“And if you’re wrong?”

“If I’m wrong then I guess I’ll owe you a beer.”

“You’ll owe me more than a beer and something tells me you’ll owe Lucky more than a beer too,” Cain said, arms crossed as he studied his longtime lover. “You say he’s lying about his reasons for turning us down, well I say you’re lying about why you don’t want to tell him. I think you’re just pissed off right now that he’s not responding to you the way you want him to.”

“Which is exactly part of the point I’m trying to make. He’s a little too evasive and a stubborn pain in the ass.”

“Pot, meet kettle, or in this case, Thorn, meet Lucky,” Cain said, laughing. “But don’t forget that he’s also very responsive, needy enough to be a really good submissive for us, but smart enough to handle shit if he needs to. I think there’s a bunch of layers to Lucky that we haven’t even scratched the surface of yet, and sorting through them all is going to be fun. Most importantly though, I think he wants to be wanted and that right there makes him perfect for us because we already want him, and don’t deny that you do, you wouldn’t be getting so pissed over it if you didn’t.”

“If you say so, jury’s still out on that one. The other thing is, I don’t like how eager he is to have that ink covered up. Just shows he’s brash and impulsive, which isn’t a good combination with bull headedness.”

“And you should know,” Cain muttered.

“Yeah, I should, which is why you should listen to me.”

Cain just waved him off. “Look, him wanting to get the ink covered bugs me too, but I’m not sure he was serious about it or just running off at the mouth because he’s pissed at Mark. For now, let’s just stick to the plan. Tomorrow he goes and gets tested and Monday he starts work. We spend the weekend at the beach, have a cookout, get in some surfing, get to know each other better and see if he’ll start loosening up, though I still think—”

“Yes, You have made it perfectly clear what you think, thanks, I can go without hearing it again,” Thorn interrupted. “Just remember that I have my ‘I told you so’ ready for when this all goes to hell.”

“Duly noted,” Cain chuckled. “Now come here.”

“You planning on being in charge tonight?” Thorn asked, one eyebrow raised.

“You gonna let me?”

The stare down was full of heated gazes, eyes flickering to one another’s zippers, tongues flicking out to lick over slightly dry lips. Thorn cocked his head to the side and stripped off his shirt, giving Cain a nod.

“Yeah, tonight, I think I’m gonna let you.”

Laughing, Cain tackled him back on the bed and kissed him hungrily, pinning Thorn in place and completely ravishing his mouth until he had Thorn gasping and staring up at him with lust filled eyes. Tangling one hand in Thorn’s hair, Cain held him down while he slid his fingers down Thorn’s side and around to the front of his jeans, popping open the button and undoing the zipper. He slipped his hand inside, rubbing it over Thorn’s thick, heavy cock, knowing his Dom would only allow him to be in control for so long.

Not wanting to waste too much time, Cain striped Thorns jean’s off, and then his own, pressing their cocks together and gripping them in his hand, wringing a loud groan from Thorn as he stroked them.

***

In the bathroom, downstairs, Lucky stood rubbing himself vigorously with a towel when the first low groan reverberated through the room. Rolling his eyes upward, he glanced at the ceiling as a second, louder groan filtered down through the wood.

Caught between drying off and listening, Lucky froze as the sounds grew louder and more steady, the occasional curse drifting through the floorboards, followed by a plea. He shivered and it wasn’t from being cold, it was from the heat that had suddenly begun to coil in the pit of his stomach as he heard someone growl out, “Ride me.”

That was what he wished he was doing, right now, to Cain. Riding him, Cain’s cock filling his ass as their moans mingled together. He wondered if the man would tell him he was good, wondered if he’d grip him tight and urge him to take him faster, deeper. Closing his eyes, Lucky groaned and palmed his growing erection as sounds from above continued to flood the bathroom. Only it wasn’t just Cain’s face he saw in his mind’s eye, but Thorn’s too, and his body, big and muscular, all jagged planes and hard, hard muscle.

What would it be like to be between them right now, tied, helpless, their hands stroking him, their mouths on him, their cocks filling him, driving him past all pain, all thought, until there was nothing but feeling and explosive pleasure and the need to just have more, more, more. His mind flashed back to blindfolds and ear plugs, to the scent of coffee candles and the feel of fingers tugging his nipple rings. How many nights had he fallen asleep wishing to meet those men, to have them ask for him, not just for a night, but to take him out somewhere fun and maybe even take him home? It had gotten so that he’d hated going to the dungeon seeing so many others with their other halves, being taken care of or giving pleasure, cherished, adored, while he sat at the bar, hoping for the arrival of ghosts.

He wondered if the men upstairs would be as fun as the pair back at the club had been, would they be as in tune with his body, with his needs, would they take him apart and make him fly, then wrap him in their arms until he’d come back down again?

That first night, it had seemed so odd to accept the blindfold and earplugs. He’d been certain he’d have to stop them and take them out, but instead, he’d come to welcome them, and everything he’d been able to accept. He’d come to crave more and more of that, tried hard to find it somewhere else, but all he’d found was bitter disappointment.

Oh fuck, yeah!

Lucky shivered, eyes popping open as he reached out to push the buttons on the shower, bringing forth another cold stream of water and stepping beneath the spray, hoping to block out both the sound of them and his own desires. Instead, the moans seem louder through the pipes and the cold water did nothing to chase his needs away, so he closed his hand around his aching cock, stroking it roughly, with an added twist and squeeze at the top. Upstairs someone let out a shout and though he tried, Lucky couldn’t fully muffle his own as he came, water washing the evidence from the tiles as he leaned against the wall, panting.

Only when he was sure they were silent, did he step from the shower, towel off and go to bed.

***

Lucky went the following morning to get tested and was told he’d have the results the following week. He also got a long lecture on unprotected sex and tried to explain that he almost always used condoms. Maybe he should have explained that Cody was the only one he’d never worn one with, though he doubted that would have eased the stinging lecture much.

He spotted a tattoo shop on the way back to the house, and figured since he wasn’t veering off course he wasn’t breaking any of the rules. The art on the walls was pretty nice, not as good as the stuff he had, but he wasn’t in the mood to draw something big and intricate.

“Hey, how ya doin’, man? Are you looking to get some more ink done? That’s a pretty impressive collection you have,” the shop owner said by way of greeting. “I’m Paul.”

“Thanks. I’m Lucky. Do you do cover ups?”

“Some, but man, It would be a shame to ink over any of those.”

“Actually, the one I want covered up is on my back,” Lucky said and pulled off his t-shirt.

“Holy….dude, no way, man. I’ve never done a cover-up that size. I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

“Just stick a big, black dragon over it and it’ll work just fine,” Lucky said. “Might take three or four sessions, but it can be done. How much would that cost me?”

Paul shook his head and held his hands up. “At least two grand, but…I’m telling you, I can’t do it here. I’ve done little cover ups, nothing that massive. I’d be in over my head.”

“Do you know anyone else around who might be able to do it?”

“Yeah, there is a guy on Pine, he might, but don’t be surprised if he says the same thing.”

“Thanks,” Lucky said, pulled his t-shirt back on, and left the shop. He wasn’t going to push his luck by trying to find Pine Street, but he was sure he could find it in the phone book when he got back to the house.

Sure enough, it was there along with two more in the area. He called all three, ending up circling one on Dutch Ave, since the guy claimed he could cover anything and was more than willing to tackle it. Lucky said he’d be in touch as soon as he had the money. Now he just hoped Cain and Thorn liked his art enough to hire him. Since there was enough potato salad for everyone to have again tonight, he was making lemon-pepper chicken to go with it, he hoped, the instructions he’d found on the internet seemed simple enough, but he’d never tried to make this particular dish before.

***

“You think those punks that were in here yesterday could have done it?” Cain asked Thorn as they stood in the wreckage of what had once been the window display of their surf shop. Not only had the large glass panes been smashed, but the boards had been broken, the pieces left scattered around the place, like they’d been used as Frisbees.

“Nope, they were idiots, but I’m pretty sure if they’d broken in here, they’d have just taken the boards instead of wrecking them. My guess would be Santiago.”

“Thorn I—”

“Think long and hard about what you are going to say before you say it, Cain. If you got yourself into any kind of deal with him again, you need to tell me now.”

Cain ran his fingers through his hair, shaking his head the entire time. “I haven’t said two words to him since the meeting with Mark. I promised you both that I’d steer clear of that shit and I have.”

“Then why has he taken to showing back up at our doorstep again the way he used to when you were smuggling shit for him?”

“I don’t know. I swear I don’t know. Why would I jeopardize the agreement we made, and the shop to make fast cash that I don’t need? That we don’t need?”

“We didn’t need it then, either, you just did it for the rush.”

“And I admitted it too, didn’t I?”

“After shit had already gone bad, yeah, you did.”

Cain exhaled and kicked a chunk of glass out of the way. “I fucked up, okay? I know it, I’ve paid for it. I’ve apologized more times than I can count, but I haven’t done anything this time.”

Thorn pulled the cell phone from his pocket and began taking pictures, letting Cain’s words sink in. “All right,” he said at last, never taking his eyes away from the phone and the pictures, “Then we need to put our heads together and figure out what he wants now.”

“Lucky said he was talking about money.”

“Wish he had said how much, though I doubt Lucky would have thought to ask him.”

“The less involved Lucky is in whatever this is, the better,” Thorn said firmly. “He needs to settle in, get comfortable at the house without having to deal with this asshole coming around and fucking with him.”

Cain started grinning at him like a madman and Thorn couldn’t help but shrug and move deeper into the room to take pictures of the kicked over racks and the products that had been hurled off the shelves.

“I want him safe too,” Cain confirmed. “He’s been through enough shit without this getting added to it. Truth be told, I’ll be happier come Monday when he can be here with us, kinda wishing we can bring Roscoe too.”

“Not sure he’d like being cooped up here all day, too many strangers for him too. If it will make you feel better we can look into getting a security system put in.”

“Good idea, and one for the shop too, maybe it would have kept most of this from happening.”

Cain knelt to pick up a broken board and Thorn stilled his hand. “We can’t do that yet, not until the insurance adjuster gives the okay. I’m already sending the pictures along to them, walk around and make note of anything that’s been destroyed, just start a list that we can fax over, product and quality, every bit of information helps. I’m going to see if I can find someone who can install pieces of glass that size on short notice. It might cost extra, but I’d rather have it put back than have to board the place up.”

“I agree, the last thing we need is to lose business up the coast, this is peak season for the hardcore guys to come flooding in. We need to get the shop back up and running.”

“So much for a peaceful weekend.”

“No shit, but I’ll make it up to you both.”

Cain flashed him a ghost of a smile then and got to work taking pictures, trying not to give in to the need to rush out and find Santiago and put an end to his bullshit once and for all. Though with each shot he took, it was harder and harder to convince himself that it wasn’t worth going to jail over.

***

Lucky was shocked when Cain and Thorn returned home three hours late, extremely pissed off and ranting about the damage that had been done to the shop.

“Holy shit,” Lucky remarked. “Did they steal anything?”

“No, they just busted the place all to hell,” Thorn snarled.

“Do you have security cameras?” Lucky asked. “Were there any other businesses near yours that were vandalized too?”

“I wish we had cameras so I could find the little shits and give them the beating that their daddy’s should have,” Thorn grumbled as stalked to the kitchen and grabbed a beer.

“No cameras, and no other reports of vandals. We filed a police report, but I’m not going to hold my breath. Filed a report with the insurance company too, so at least the losses with be covered, but the inconvenience is a bitch, especially losing the whole front display,” Cain explained as he and Lucky walked to the kitchen together.

“I’m sorry they fucked up your shop, Sir,” Lucky said.

“So am I,” Cain said as he took a seat at the table.

“We’re going to need you to get right to work airbrushing boards. Just some unique designs, whatever you come up with. We put some plain boards in the window for now,” Thorn said.

“We don’t usually work on the weekend, we have a guy for that, but I think the shop needs our attention more right now. If you can get started tomorrow that would be great,” Cain said.

“I can do that, Sir,” Lucky replied as he sat a plate of food down in front of Cain and passed him a beer. “But I thought…” he began, but left the rest unsaid, kicking himself for letting on that he’d been looking forward to a weekend at the beach with them.

“We’ll have to do it another time,” Thorn said. “Besides, you’ve made it pretty clear that you’re in a hurry to get out of here. Sooner you get to work, the sooner you’ll have enough money to go.”

Lucky tensed for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah, so I’d better go see what I can come up with.”

He trudged to his room, looking a bit dejected, and Cain shot Thorn a disappointed look.

“Why did you have to be so cold to him?” Cain asked as he stared after Lucky. “He seemed like he was actually interested in spending time with us.”

“He needs to learn to be honest if he wants something, this pretend, ‘don’t give a shit’ attitude is exactly how he got in trouble in the first place. If he’d gone to the club and told them he was struggling to deal with shit we wouldn’t have had to fish him out of the water.”

“Most pleasant looking fish I’ve ever caught.”

“I’ll give you that, he’s easy on the eyes, but his attitude sucks.”

“Look who’s talking,” Cain grumbled.

“All I’m saying is that I would have preferred hanging out at the bonfire with him, then taking him back to the dungeon and taking him apart, making him fly for us and then telling him who we are. Hell we wouldn’t have had to tell him who we were because when we were through with him, he’d have known.”

“Thought you didn’t think he remembered.”

“I said he probably didn’t think about us between sessions, not that he wouldn’t remember the way we’d played his body and made him writhe for us when he were between us and we had our hands all over him. Maybe he would have been open to being with us then.”

“Maybe,” Cain agreed. “It’s likely, but we play the hand we were dealt and this is it.”

“Yeah, well, I want a re-deal,” Thorn muttered.

“You never did like to lose. You want him, you can’t stop thinking about him and it’s pissing you off.”

“Bad,” Thorn groaned. “I keep remembering what it was like to fuck him, to hear him begging me for more and god…”

Thorn closed his eyes as if that would black out the memory permanently burned into his mind.

“Is that all you want from him?”

“You know it’s not, but it’s all he wants from us.”

Cain smacked a hand to his forehead and dragged it down over his eyes. “You know what, you’re both idiots, but at least Lucky has an excuse. What’s yours?”

Shaking his head, Cain collected Roscoe and took the big dog for a walk, leaving Thorn to flop on the couch in front of the TV.

CHAPTER TEN

Lucky was up bright and early Saturday morning, sketch book in hand as he came to the kitchen. The smell of pancakes and sausages greeted him, and he poured a cup of coffee and sat down silently to watch Thorn flipping pancakes on a platter.

“Food’s not going to serve itself,” Thorn said gruffly.

“I’m just gonna have this,” Lucky said as he held up the banana he’d just begun to peel.

“I gotta tell ya, Lucky, crack whore skinny doesn’t have much appeal.”

“Who said I was trying to be appealing?” Lucky asked. “I’m not.”

“It’s a good thing then,” Thorn chuckled. “You’d fail miserably.”

Lucky licked his upper lip and glared, then ate the banana in huge gulps so he could quietly leave the table with his coffee. He carried it and the sketchbook back outside, wishing he still smoked.

***

“Can I see?” Cain’s voice was suddenly right beside Lucky’s ear, startling him for a moment.

He opened his eyes and then hesitantly nodded.

“They’re not very good, Sir,” Lucky tried to explain as he passed the sketchbook over.

Cain took it, a surge of worry lancing through him at the possibility that Lucky might not be as good of an artist as Mark had implied, then he opened the book and was completely blown away.

“Holy shit, Lucky, if this is what you call not very good then I’d hate to see what you call good.”

Lucky raised his head with a slight frown. “Are they that bad, Sir?” he asked softly.

“Bad? They’re not bad at all, Lucky, they’re sick as hell. Any of them would make an awesome board.”

Lucky’s face brightened as Cain continued to look through the book.

“Are you coming in to eat, or what? Thorn asked as he shoved open the door and saw Cain standing there.

“In a minute, yeah, you should look at these,” Cain said, holding the book out to Thorn.

“No,” Lucky said, grabbing the notebook back and clutching it to his chest. He dropped his coffee mug in the process and it shattered all around his feet, sending glass and coffee spraying onto the walkway. Kneeling, Lucky tried to scoop up the pieces without losing control of the sketchbook.

Of course, Thorn just took it from him and glared when Lucky tried to snatch it back.

“Clean up your mess,” Thorn instructed sternly, before carrying the sketchbook back into the house with Cain behind him.

***

Lucky snarled curses as he picked up the pieces, cutting his palm in the process and cussing more at the sting. When he finally got it cleaned up and the walkway hosed off, he carried the pieces back inside and dumped them in the trash, then rinsed his hand in the sink. The sketchbook lay by the counter and he quickly reclaimed it.

“Those drawings, they’re very nicely done,” Thorn said. “But we’ll see if you can pull them off on a board.”

Lucky nodded. “I can,” he assured Thorn before he headed back outside, wanting to be away from the stern man. His words of praise for the quality of the drawings had almost garnered him a smile, until he’d challenged Lucky’s ability to execute. The man was hot as hell but seriously irritating and Lucky wasn’t sure how many times he’d be able to stop himself from kissing him before he finally succumbed. No good would come of it, he told himself as he waited. It didn’t take long for them to come out and hop on their bikes. Lucky followed them wondering what he was in store for. He would soon find out when, after ten minutes, they reached the shop and headed in. The only evidence of the previous day’s break in was the bare, plain boards in the front windows and the lack of adornments surrounding them.

“All right, work your magic, Lucky,” Cain said after he’d shown Lucky to the workroom. Lucky was pleased to see that they had all the paint and equipment he could ever need, or want.

Heading back to the window, he pulled down a large green board and carried it to the back. He figured it would be perfect for the new school style octopus he’d drawn out. Measuring, he found the center of the board, then sketched out the head along the left side as he worked out how to get all the tentacles where he wanted them.

Loud music thumped through the room, Lucky was so engrossed in what he was doing that he never noticed Thorn and Cain sticking their heads in throughout the day to check on his progress. He worked though lunch, unintentionally, but the scowl on Thorn’s face when he emerged at almost three showed the he was less than impressed.

“What were the rules?” Thorn asked before Lucky even had a chance to check the time.

“Call you guys Sir, no drugs, no one in the house without permission, no guns, tell you where I’m going, no sex, no hurting myself, eat three meals a day, don’t…”

“Repeat the last one,” Thorn snapped.

“Eat three meals a day,” Lucky replied.

“You skipped lunch and that banana you ate this morning can just barely be classified as breakfast. What did we tell you about taking care of yourself?”

Lucky sighed. “I didn’t mean to skip lunch. I got so into the design that I didn’t want to stop until I needed to let the first layer dry.”

“Just don’t let it happen again, you’re skinny enough as it is, your jeans are practically falling off,” Thorn said.

“Sorry,” Lucky muttered.

“In all fairness, maybe we need to put a clock back there,” Cain pointed out.

Thorn frowned. “I thought there was one.”

“It was Mike’s and he took it with him when he quit,” Cain pointed out as he went to the mini-fridge and brought back a plate with three slices of pizza on it and passed it to Lucky along with a soda.

“Thank you, Sir,” Lucky said as he looked for a place to sit. The shop was dead at the moment so Cain steered him to the counter and one of the stools behind it.

“So, how’s it coming?” Cain asked.

Lucky’s eyes lit up.

“It’s gonna be kick ass, Sir,” he said excitedly, “the arms of the octopus are going to wrap around the board and I made its beak really freaky and its eyes too.”

“How long will it take to finish?”

“Depends on how late you’ll let me stay, Sir.”

Cain’s eyes widened in surprise as he looked at Lucky, “Wait, you can have it done tonight?”

“Yes, Sir, but it might take until ten or eleven if that’s okay,” Lucky said.

“Hey, if that’s what it takes, go for it, I’ll order Chinese and get some ordering done while you work. I’ve been meaning to get caught up on those anyway.”

Lucky nodded around a mouth full of pizza, eager to get back to work. True to his word, Cain stuck around to work in the shop while Lucky painted, while Thorn went home to look after Roscoe and work on some of the new ads they’d been meaning to design. Around ten-thirty, Lucky put the finishing touches on the board, having completed the work on both sides he stood back to admire it as it dried. His shoulders were sore and his back ached, but it was one of the coolest pieces he’d done in a while and couldn’t help but be proud, if a little apprehensive, about showing Cain his work.

He cleaned up his station and turned off the music before entering the storefront and searching out the other man. He found Cain chewing on the end of a pen, studying a catalogue intently.

“It’s done, Sir,” Lucky said. “Still drying, but, its finished. I can’t clear coat it until morning after it’s dried completely, but that will help keep it from getting scratched up.”

“Good deal, let’s take a look,” Cain said he lay the catalogue aside and headed to the back.

“Dayum,” Cain breathed when he saw the board. “Fuck…Lucky…I don’t know if I want to sell that. Shit…it’s…well, damn.”

Cain walked around the board, studying the details in the design and the colors. It was a work of art, bold, scary as hell, and eye catching. He snapped a few shots and sent them to Thorn, then clasped Lucky on the shoulder. “Great work, Lucky.”

Lucky groaned as soon as Cain touched him, his shoulder aching and tight. “Thank you, Sir.”

“You okay?” Cain asked, studying him intently.

“Just a little sore, Sir,” Lucky admitted.

“Here?” Cain asked, giving his shoulder a light squeeze.

“Yes, Sir,” Lucky said with a grimace.

“Let me see if I can help,” Cain said as he maneuvered Lucky to a bench and urged him to sit down, grateful that Lucky complied without question.

Cain ran his fingers through Lucky’s hair and moved it to the side before he settled his hands on Lucky’s shoulders and began massaging the stiffness out of them.

Lucky groaned, enjoying the feel and beginning to relax under Cain’s talented fingers.

“I have massage oil at home,” Cain said, his voice low and inviting. “You could take a hot shower and I could work the kinks out of your back for you.”

“Please…Sir,” Lucky muttered, relaxed and loving not only the ease of the ache in his shoulders, but the fact that Cain was touching him.

Cain trailed his fingertips up the back of Lucky’s neck, then leaned in to lick over the path that his fingers had taken. “Come on then,” he encouraged.

With a shiver and an appreciative sigh, Lucky stood and followed him as he locked up for the day.

***

At the house, Thorn sat in the study, a beer in one hand, the phone in the other, the notes for the new ad campaign scattered on the desk in front of him.

“So how’s it going with Lucky Strike?” Mark asked through the phone.

“He’s a stubborn shit,” Thorn declared. “And immature to boot. You weren’t kidding about his talent though, his artwork is amazing, but his attitude’s gotta go.”

“So you’re not keeping him?”

“I didn’t say that. I don’t know,” Thorn admitted. “He said he’s not interested in anything but the job and only for as long as it takes him to earn the money to cover the ink on his back and a trip away from here.”

“What!” Mark roared, forcing Thorn to pull the phone away from his ear.

“Thanks for that,” Thorn grumbled. “I like my hearing intact, fucker.”

“What the hell do you mean; he’s planning on covering up his club ink. That Rollin’ Jokers back piece was one of the first pieces he designed, hell, it was the first damned tattoo he ever got.”

“Yeah, well, seeing as how he stubbornly insists that you’ve kicked him out of the club and thrown him away, he says he’s never going back there. Won’t come to the dungeon either, but that’s a completely different story.”

“You tell that little shit that him and I are having a nice, long conversation when I get down there next week and if one shred of that ink is covered that’s his ass. Who the fuck does he think he is and what’s his fucken problem with the dungeon?”

“Not sure. He wouldn’t say. He’s apparently got relationship issues too. From what we could get out of him, he met someone, got attached, they were an ass, and that’s that.”

“Son of a bitch, why didn’t he say anything?”

“Said it didn’t matter and he didn’t want to cause trouble.”

“That would have been one bit of trouble he wouldn’t have been the cause of,” Mark growled. “Did he tell you the bastard’s name?”

“No, and he won’t give me real details on what happened. I tried to goad him into it by calling him a coward, but all he did was agree and walk away.”

“Yeah, um listen, Thorn, Lucky, he doesn’t let people bait him with shit like that, he’s not a hot head that way, unlike Cody. I’ve always admired that about him. If anything, though, he takes those things to heart and just shuts down on you. He’s a good kid, but he’s no hard-ass, despite how hard he tries to pretend to be.”

“I don’t play games, Mark, you know that, at least not the kind of games he’s trying to play. If he can’t be honest and direct in the process then that’s on him. He’ll have to toughen up and deal with it.”

“I hear ya. Just, give him an inch every now and again, okay?”

“Look where giving him an inch got you,” Thorn pointed out. “Whatever he gets from me he’ll have to earn.”

“Yeah,” Mark muttered, but Thorn could tell he didn’t sound convinced. “Not sure you’re approach is going to work out the way you’ve got it set in your mind that it will. You haven’t taken time enough to get to know him, yet. Once you do, you’ll see exactly what I mean.”

“Yeah and how’s Cody coming along?” Thorn asked, sarcastically, changing the subject.

“About as hard headed as Lucky, only his new Dom seems to know exactly how to take him in hand.”

“I’m not Lucky’s Dom, and I doubt he’ll ever really let me be. I’m his keeper, he doesn’t want a Dom, remember.”

“Yeah, well he needs one and we both know it,” Mark reminded him. “Maybe the problem here is that you’ve forgotten how to act like one, and I don’t mean by giving orders and making demands, either. I mean the part where you’re supposed to figure out what he needs and how to give it to him. You managed it with Cain.”

“Cain is as much a Dom as I am, when he wants to be.”

“But he’s a switch at heart, and when he needs to be taken down, he lets you know it. Lucky has made it clear to us all that he needs someone to strip away all the walls and attitude and just let him feel, but you’re not making it possible to get to that point. From everything you’ve told me, Cain’s already found the key to disarming him and getting him to relax and seek attention.”

“Doesn’t do me any good when he’s still disregarding rule number one,” Thorn muttered.

“And that’s the bottom line for you, isn’t it? You want that respect from him, you gotta earn it, but Lucky will never let you just take it. He’s got too much pride for that, and too much anger too. He needs you, but he’ll never tell you that.”

“And until he can admit it, he’s a house guest and an employee. A short lived one if he has his way.”

“God that kid is gonna be the death of me. I owe it to his old man to see him safe and happy and I swear, if that’s not gonna work with you two, then I don’t know what will.”

Thorn chuckled bitterly. “Naw, he won’t be the death of you, he’d never survive long enough to be. Cain’s home. I gotta go so it looks like I got shit done. Talk to you next week.”

“Yeah, see you then,” Mark said before hanging up.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Out in the entry way, Cain had pressed Lucky against the wall and had moved Lucky’s hand from the back of his neck and replaced it with one of his own, rubbing gently.

“That feels really good,” Lucky groaned and let his head thunk lightly against the wall, giving Cain better access to his neck.

Cain ran his fingers up the back of Lucky’s neck and into his hair, before letting them trail down again, stroking, rubbing, pressing his fingers in to find the sore muscles. Lucky flinched when Cain hit a particularly sore spot, and groaned as he gentled his touch and start working the muscle more.

“You should go take a hot shower, I’ll be there in a bit,” Cain said as they stepped into the quiet house.

Roscoe raised his head, huffed, then lay his head back down on his paws again once he saw that it was Cain.

“All worn out, boy, not even gonna greet me?” Cain said, patting his leg.

Roscoe huffed again, leapt up and raced across the floor, tackling Cain and driving him back against the door, tail wagging like mad as Cain scratched his ears and rubbed his head.

“Missed you, boy, working late sucks, but we’ll make it up to you. Spend a long day at the beach next weekend, I promise,” Cain said as Roscoe licked his face.

Roscoe woofed in response, as if he fully understood what Cain was saying, and, as if to punctuate his understanding, raced off and returned with his ball, dropped it at Cain’s feet, tongue lolling out of his mouth as his tail wagged a mile a minute.

Unwilling to disappoint the happy animal, Cain headed for the patio doors and opened them, and Roscoe raced out into the darkness. For several minute, he just tossed the ball around the yard, letting Roscoe retrieve it. He loved watching him run, the way he got so low, moved so fast with his tail streaming out behind him, ears laid back as he chased the bouncing yellow ball across the grass. After over a dozen retrievals, Cain rubbed his ears and took the ball away, grimacing a little at the slobber coating it.

“Come on, boy, I gotta go see a man about a massage,” he joked as he ushered the dog inside.

Only after securing the patio doors and giving Roscoe one more long, lengthy scratch behind the ears did go in search of his lover.

“Thorn!”

“Do you have to bellow?” Thorn asked as he stepped from the study.

“Nope, I just did it to annoy the hell outta you,” Cain said, grinning.

“Asshole.”

“Did you see the pictures?”

“Yeah, was glad to see he got it done. That board is going to look amazing in the window. Can’t wait to see what else he does.”

“Hell, it’s going to suck having to sell it, as soon as I saw it, I wanted it for myself.”

“Figures,” Thorn commented, rolling his eyes. “You have enough boards, I’m surprised we haven’t had to build an addition on to the house for all the boards.”

“I’m not that bad.”

“Yeah, you are,” Thorn said, laughing as he pulled Cain in for a kiss. Cain’s finger’s tangled in Thorn’s long hair as he pushed Thorn against the wall and kissed him brutally.

“Let’s fuck,” Thorn growled, trying to shove Cain off him so he could drag him to the bedroom, though the wilder part of him was screaming to just reverse their positions and fuck Cain again against the wall.

“Can’t,” Cain gasped as he broke the kiss, but still kept a firm hold on a fistful of Thorn’s shirt. “I promised Lucky a massage.”

“Planning on playing a bit dirty with that massage?” Thorn asked, his eyes having darkened with desire.

“Planning on seeing how far he’ll let me take it,” Cain said with a mischievous grin.

Thorn’s eyes darkened a little more and yanked Cain to him in order to deliver a punishingly possessive kiss.

“Don’t fuck him without me,” Thorn ordered after he’d broken the kiss.

“You know I won’t, I just want to see if maybe he’s more open to the idea of joining us in our bed.”

Thorn snorted and shook his head. “Good luck with that, you’d have better luck luring Mark to join us.”

The pair shared a laugh at the thought of two dominant alphas and Cain trying to find harmony in a bed, even one as large as the California king that sat in the bedroom upstairs. There might be sex, but it was libel to be bloody.

Cain kissed Thorn one last time, then went to collect the massage oil and large scented candle, hoping a little relaxation would help Lucky unwind a little. He got to Lucky’s room in time to see him step out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his hips. Cain’s eyes scanned his body, slow and predatory, noting the jut of Lucky’s hipbones and the way he’d lost muscle tone since the last time he and Thorn had him stretched out on a bed between them. He hadn’t noticed the weight loss the night at the beach, but it had been dark and Lucky had been shivering and doing his best to curl up tight to keep the wind and their eyes at bay. Thorn was right, he needed to eat more.

A slow blush spread over Lucky’s cheeks and he hurried to his bag to find a pair of sweats and Cain frowned as he looked around and realized that Lucky hadn’t unpacked anything yet.

“You’re fine just like that,” Cain said as he snapped his attention back to the rummaging young man. “Just stretch out on your stomach and get comfortable.”

“Yes, Sir,” Lucky replied and got himself situated on the bed.

Cain placed the scented candle on the dresser and lit all three wicks, then headed back over by the doorway and turned off the light. The candlelight was more than enough to see Lucky by as it cast a soft glow over the bed. Cain smiled at the flush that had already spread over Lucky’s body and climbed up on the bed with him, noticing the way Lucky’s eyes looked with the flames dancing in them and wondering what they would have looked like in the chrome room, with all of those candles flickering. He was willing to bet it would have been as mesmerizing as the ocean.

Straddling Lucky’s hips just made him flush even more and up close, Cain got his first good look at the back piece and all of the work that had been included. It was no wonder to him then, that Mark was having a fit about it potentially being altered. Not only was the design intricate and unique, but the style of it and the line work looked to have been done by none other than Mark himself.

“Shit, Lucky, how old were you when you got this?”

“Nineteen, Sir,” Lucky admitted softly.

“Had to hurt like a son of a bitch,” Cain wondered as he traced it with his fingertips. “Tell me this wasn’t the first one you had done.”

“Yeah, actually, it was, Sir. But I really wanted it and Mark did it in pieces.”

“I thought this was his work.”

“Yeah, Sir, it is, but no, it didn’t hurt,” Lucky admitted, thinking back to that day for a moment. “Pops and my Old Man were impressed, so were some other club members who’d been there. They got me a few beers to celebrate, not only the ink and what it meant, but that I’d, you know, taken it like a man,” Lucky said, pride shone through his words.

“So what are you thinking about covering it with,” Cain asked.

“A black dragon, or maybe the word ‘reject’ slashed across the middle.”

“Shit, Lucky, don’t do that, you’d be wrecking an amazing piece and for what, spite?”

“He threw me out,” Lucky spat bitterly.

“You left him little choice,” Cain pointed out, and then leaned in to kiss the back of Lucky’s neck, which he’d already felt was beginning to get tense again. Cain kissed the shell of his ear, giving it a gentle tug with his teeth. “Besides, this isn’t so bad, now is it?”

Lucky whined and wiggled a bit at the contact. “That feels so good,” Lucky murmured, commenting only on the feeling, not on the question.

Cain resumed rubbing, loosening muscles and occasionally trailing a fingertip along Lucky’s side. “What design do you have planned for tomorrow?” Cain asked when he realized that Lucky wasn’t going to answer the question.

“Was thinking about turning the board into a shark and having a sea turtle surfing on his back, kind of a 3D effect.”

“I like it, think you can manage that one in a day the way you did the one tonight?” Cain asked, hating to push him, but they really did need something to distinguish the shop and get customers coming in, especially when folks were beginning to pour in for the surfing now that the ocean was getting rough.

“Oh yeah, its two sided, but the turtle is the only part with a ton of detail, it was fun, painting the board like that today, different than gas tanks, fenders and skateboards, though more like a bigger variation of a skateboard.”

“Do you paint a lot of those?”

“Not anymore, but when I was in high school, yeah.”

“Did you ride one?” Cain asked curiously. “I did, for a little while, then I tried to do a trick I’d seen in a skate magazine, and broke my arm, and the board. Never did bother to get another one after that.”

“I never rode one,” Lucky admitted. “I thought about learning, but I was too busy on my dirt bike, or trailing after my Old Man trying to learn how to build the big bikes like he was doing.”

“Did you?”

“What, learn to build a bike? No, not really, I mean I can fix basic stuff, but I was never as mechanically inclined as I wanted to be. I could create with a pencil or an airbrush though, and Pops just encouraged me to stop trying to force a talent I didn’t have and concentrate on the one I did.”

“Your Pops sounds like he was a pretty smart guy,” Cain commented.

“He was,” Lucky said softly, a thick sadness having crept into his voice.

“How about surfing, did you ever learn or were you too busy for that too?” Cain asked, hoping to change the subject and lighten the mood back up. The last thing he wanted was Lucky mostly naked beneath him and in a sad mood.

“I like to watch. Tried it a few times, but I sucked. I’d wipe out before I could even get all the way up and balanced on the board. I’ll stick to riding my baby.”

“You work at a surf shop now, no reason that you can’t learn.”

“I’m pretty sure surfing isn’t on my list of capabilities,” Lucky admitted.

“We’ll see, if you decide to let us teach you.”

“Maybe. Who knows, I might like it.”

“Exactly,” Cain said, a grin lighting up his face at Lucky’s admission. “So the tats didn’t hurt, huh, then you don’t mind pain?”

“Sometimes, Sir,” Lucky said, “and sometimes I like it.”

“You can drop the Sir for right now and just talk to me, I want to talk to you, I want to know you better, I want to know what you like.”

“Thanks,” Lucky said softly, as Cain drizzled oil on his back and shoulders and began gently working on the tense muscles.

“So tell me when you like pain?” Cain prompted. “And what kind of pain you like.”

Lucky sighed, enjoying the feel of Cain’s hands. “Melted wax poured over me, I like it all over me, my back, across my abs, over my legs, across my throat, and the insides of my thighs, just everywhere.”

“Is that all?” Cain asked when Lucky fell silent.

When Lucky’s skin flushed a deep red again, Cain knew there was more. He leaned low, so he was speaking right in Lucky’s ear, “Come on, tell me, what else do you like?”

Lucky shivered and let out a soft sigh as Cain’s fingers dug into the space where his shoulder joined with his neck and rubbed, easing some of the tension in the cramped muscle.

“I like to be spanked too,” Lucky admitted softly.

Cain chuckled and ran his fingers down Lucky’s spine. “How? With a hand? A brush? A belt? A flogger?”

“A brush…and a hand…and a belt,” Lucky said breathlessly as Cain’s had slipped lower to straddle his thighs so he could deliver some light smacks to Lucky’s towel covered ass.

Lucky sighed, softly and let out a little murmur of appreciation.

“Or maybe you like it harder,” Cain murmured.

“Yeah,” Lucky encouraged, and Cain delivered three stinging smacks that left Lucky grinding his hips into the mattress below him.

“Oh yeah, you do like being spanked,” Cain remarked, smirking down at him. He slid back up to straddle Lucky’s hips, resuming his massage as Lucky tried to squirm beneath him and get settled again.

“Tell me what else you like,” Cain prompted.

“Chains.”

“Whoa,” Cain’s hands had stilled over Lucky’s lower backs and his eyes widened a little as a grin stretched across his face. “Wall or bed?”

“Both, but I like the bed more. The soft mattress beneath me, the feel of the chains wrapped around my wrists and ankles, one across my throat, more across my chest, pinning me down as someone drips wax all over my body.”

Lucky let out a soft moan and Cain almost choked, because the scene that Lucky was recalling was playing bright in his head as well and he could still remember the sounds that Lucky had made that night, the way he’d pleaded with them for more wax, more fingers, more everything. They’d brought him, together, Thorn wielding the candle, Cain with three fingers buried inside Lucky’s tight channel and his muscles contracting on them as he’d tried to writhe beneath the chains and come everywhere.

“God, yeah, that…” Cain began, wanting to tell him so they could get it out there and get back to doing it.

“I um, love having my hair pulled too,” Lucky admitted, “love it when someone wraps it around their hand and uses it to control me, or urge me deeper, or fuck me harder.”

With a snarl Cain slid his fingers into Lucky’s hair and stroked over his scalp, then gathered up a handful of hair and pulled his head up off the pillows, drawing out a long, low groan from Lucky as Cain leaned down and bit the side of his neck, the way he knew that Thorn liked to do.

Lucky’s moan was louder then and punctuated with a loud cry and a full body shiver.

“You like to be bitten too, don’t you?” Cain growled in his ear. When Lucky hesitated, Cain bit down again in a slightly different spot getting an even louder, but no less pleasure filled response out of Lucky. “Don’t you!”

“Yes,” Lucky admitted with a groan, squirming more.

Cain grazed Lucky’s side’s with his fingertips and gently bit the back of his neck, bringing a low moan from Lucky, who wiggled and let out another whining sound as Cain licked the side of his neck and kissed there as well.

“Why are you teasing me?” Lucky asked, his tone low and throaty. “Is this like last time, you want to show me what I’m missing?”

“Nope,” Cain said as he ran a finger through the oil, tracing a path across Lucky’s shoulder, then over the outline of the tattoo and down lower, to dip beneath the towel. This time Lucky’s groan was loud and insistent. “Just trying to help you relax is all.”

“So not helping,” Lucky moaned.

“Why not?” Cain chuckled.

“You fuckin’ know why not…Sir!” Lucky snapped and Cain had to laugh.

“Adding a Sir on the end doesn’t erase the fact that you cussed at me,” Cain declared, giving Lucky’s towel clad ass a firm slap before raising up a little.

Lucky’s gasp was loud and needy, and he bucked a little when Cain smacked him again. Whining and grumbling he writhed and pleaded but didn’t cuss at Cain again.

“Roll over,” Cain demanded, pushing on Lucky’s hip until he complied. Lucky gazed up at him, an open, needy, wanton expression in his eyes.

Cain pressed his palm to Lucky’s cheek and watched the younger man nuzzle against it. Gently, Cain brushed his fingertips over Lucky’s jaw and into his hair, watching him press into every caress and even seek out additional contact when Cain moved his hand away. It brought a smile to Cain’s face.

“When was the last time you were with someone?” Cain asked as he stared down into Lucky’s eyes.

“Two months ago,” Lucky murmured, canting his hips upward, seeking friction. Cain just splayed his hand across Lucky’s abs and pressed down, holding him in place before leaning in and kissing him senseless.

“You could be sharing our bed,” Cain whispered as he broke the kiss and stared down into Lucky’s glazed eyes. “You could be touched as often as you wanted, all you have to do is ask.”

Lucky groaned and turned his head away to stare at the candle’s flickering trio of flames.

“Why so stubborn?” Cain asked as he nipped Lucky’s neck, then his shoulder, before licking over a nipple, drawing a loud, urgent groan from Lucky when he took the metal loop of the ring there and tubbed it with his teeth.

Lucky arched and groaned. “I already told you.”

Cain sat up and looked down at him. “You lied.”

When his words were met with silence, he reached down and turned Lucky’s eyes back toward him and kissed him again, slow and seductive. This time Lucky wrapped his arms around Cain and held him close, his hands trailing along Cain’s back in slow, uncertain caresses until Cain slowly pulled away to study him. Both of them were hard, their erections pressed together, and Cain rocked slowly against Lucky just to see his eyes go half lidded and his head tilt back some at the sensation.

“What’s the real reason you won’t join us?” Cain asked he watched Lucky revel in the sensations just his slow hip motions were causing. “It’s not fear of rejection, you’ve already told us you don’t do attachments so all it would be was pleasure. Lots…and lots…of pleasure.”

Cain’s voice had grown even huskier on the last few words as he’d timed the rolling of his hips to punctuate them.

Lucky gasped and pulled Cain tighter to him, rolling his own hips up and drawing a throaty groan from Cain.

“No,” Lucky rasped, his gaze heated as he met Cain’s eyes. “I said no one was ever interested enough in me to keep me.”

For a moment Cain just stared down into Lucky’s eyes and the sadness that had chased some of the want away, then realization hit him.

“Shit,” he breathed, pressing his forehead to Lucky’s. “You were being serious.”

“Yeah,” Lucky replied and turned his head away again, his hold on Cain loosening as he began to shut back down. It was almost as if Cain could see the emotional wall coming back up around him that Lucky used as a shield.

“Damn,” Cain groaned.

***

Lucky closed his eyes, wanting to forget the fact that Cain was even in the room with him, though that was really difficult to do with Cain still on top of him. He wished Cain would go away or better still, go back to kissing him and stop trying to talk to him and most importantly, stop trying to dig so deeply into how Lucky felt. He felt Cain’s hand against his cheek and this time he froze and refused to press against it, refused to show any more of that needier side of him.

“Look at me,” Cain asked gently.

Lucky trembled, but refuse to meet his gaze.

“Please,” Cain encouraged and was finally rewarded when Lucky moved to glance at him then glance away.

Cain kissed him again and it was different somehow, softer, gentler, but more intense and Lucky moaned and carded his fingers though Cain’s hair, trying to convey what he wanted, what he needed into the kiss he gave back. Slowly, their lower bodies began to rub together again and Cain moaned and ground his erection against Lucky’s as their kiss grew more urgent and the hands that were gliding over each other’s flesh began to grip tighter and tighter.

***

“Fuuuuuuck,” Cain groaned as he pulled away.

Lucky whined loudly as he opened his eyes, his look becoming guarded as he watched Cain slide down his body.

“Don’t worry,” Cain said as he pulled the towel away. “I’ll take care of you.”

As soon as Cain licked a stripe up Lucky’s thigh, the guarded look flew from Lucky’s eyes, replaced with need and desire again. Lucky groaned and wiggled a little, and on the second lick he shivered and laughed and tried to get away.

“Found someone’s ticklish spot,” Cain chuckled as he kissed a trail to Lucky’s cock and licked the weeping tip of it.

“Please,” Lucky begged, eyes bright with desire as he propped himself up on his elbows to watch.

“Please what?” Cain asked as he licked him again.

“Please, Sir?” Lucky offered with a groan.

“Close,” Cain murmured huskily before licking the tip of his cock again. “Very close.”

Lucky whined and tried to raise his hips, but once again Cain pinned them, then licked the underside of Lucky’s dick.

“Please blow me, Sir, I wanna come!” Lucky moaned and tried lifting his hips again.

“Now that’s what I was wanting to hear,” Cain replied before taking Lucky’s entire member into his mouth and sucking him down to the root.

Rolling his eyes upward, Cain watched as Lucky’s head fell back and low groans and hisses began escaping him. He wasn’t loud, but he was beautiful as he shuddered, moaned and trembled all over. Cain hummed and Lucky growled loudly and swore as he started to shake.

“God, yeah,” Lucky panted, and the sheer want in his voice prompted Cain to hum louder and watch as the vibrations made Lucky grip the sheets in his fist.

Cain swirled slid back up the shaft, swirled his tongue around the head of Lucky’s cock, then sank back down on it, humming the whole way, which only served to make Lucky quiver move. He was so responsive, Cain wanted to draw it out, slowly bobbing his head up and down, licking when he got to the tip, breaking the suction and letting cooler air hit Lucky’s cock before he ran his tongue from root to tip before taking Lucky’s cock back in his mouth again, humming occasionally, but never enough for any real vibrations until Lucky whined loudly and begged him for more.

Cain hummed loud then, and Lucky’s hips jerked, his whole body spasmed and he cried out wantonly as he came down Cain’s throat. Still shaking, Lucky sprawled bonelessly on the comforter, eyes heavy lidded as he panted and struggled to catch his breath while Cain licked him clean.

The warm, wet tongue on his still twitching cock made Lucky tense and writhe until he had to push weakly as Cain’s head to make him stop. With a low, menacing chuckle, Cain feathered kisses over Lucky’s oversensitive body until Lucky was crying out and thrashing beneath him.

“Too much,” Lucky whined, his eyes glazed as he stared down at Cain. “God, too much, never said that before.”

“You’ll say it again, I promise,” Cain said as he stretched out beside him and stroked Lucky’s cheek and watched as he nuzzled into the soft touch again. “For now, go to sleep, you have a long day tomorrow.”

“But…” Lucky stammered, eyes popping open and seeking out Cain’s. “I didn’t do anything for you.”

Cain just chuckled and kissed Lucky on the forehead. “Yeah, you did.” With that he slid off the bed. He was hard as a rock and planning to have Thorn fuck the hell out of him. “Trust me, you did. Now, sleep.”

“Yes, Sir,” Lucky replied, letting his eyes slip closed again.

Cain blew the candle out, gathered it up along with the massage oil and left the room, closing the door gently behind him.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Cain paced in his bedroom, running each encounter with Lucky through his mind, trying to read between the lines and get to the heart of what Lucky hadn’t said.

Someone had been an ass, but Lucky claimed they hadn’t hurt him, at least not physically, but there was no doubt in Cain’s mind that they had hurt him and caused Lucky to close his emotions down. Had Lucky loved this person? And if he had, why hadn’t Mark known anything about it? Had it been Cody? Had Mark done something to keep the pair apart?

Cain rubbed the back of his neck, thinking back to the conversation he and Thorn had with Mark while they were waiting for Lucky to grab his things.

“So why so opposed to him and Cody?” Thorn had asked casually.

“’Cause Lucky Strike won’t stand up to him, and Cody needs that.”

Cain had jerked his attention away from Lucky’s door and back toward the conversation. “Stand up to him how?”

“Look, they’ve been the best of friends since they were kids and Cody couldn’t find a more loyal friend than Lucky, but anything that Cody wants to do, Lucky tags alone, even if it’s the stupidest idea he’s ever come up with. It was bad enough when they were kids, but at least then it was all stupid shit. Now, dammit when Cody decides to fuck up, he needs someone to reign him in, not follow like a little puppy.”

“So, Lucky’s pretty submissive then, despite the crap he was giving me down at the beach.”

Mark sighed and walked over to a bottle of bourbon sitting beside a battered chair and took a long drink before putting the cap back on again. “I wouldn’t necessarily say that. Lucky is…different. I truly believe that he follows Cody blindly because he is afraid that if he doesn’t he’ll be left behind. Cody was a little shit when they were kids, he was always taunting Lucky, always pushing to have his own way and if Lucky hesitated, then Cody would tell him he was going to find someone else to hang out with.”

“What the hell kind of friendship is that?” Cain growled.

“Now you see why Lucky and Cody aren’t a good fit,” Mark pointed out. “I love my son, but he can be a bastard sometime and manipulative to boot. Lucky’s loyalty to him has always been genuine, I can’t always say the same about Cody’s.”

“Did he manipulate Lucky into sleeping with him too?” Thorn had asked.

“I don’t know, maybe, I wouldn’t put it past him, but it would be just as easy to say that Lucky begged for it, with those two it would be impossible to tell. What I can say is that when I caught them together, Cody was always on top and in control.”

Cain nodded at hearing that, remembering Lucky’s hesitant explorations of both of them. It was the opposite of the way he’d pressed into their caresses and all but begged them both to touch him. He certainly had never seemed to be the type to want to take control of the situation.

“What about you?” Thorn suddenly asked, and again Cain was pulled from his thoughts to study the two older men.

“What about me, what?”

Mark’s posture had taken on a defensive position, arms crossed, eyes narrowed a little as he’d watched Thorn.

“Did you fuck him?”

“How long have you been wanting to ask that?”

“Since the first night you let us have him.”

Mark tugged at his goatee and let Thorn stew a bit before replying. “And if I have? That gonna change what you claim you feel for him?”

“Nope. But I’m curious about why you’ve done so much to try and find a match for him. Can’t recall you ever having done that for anyone in the past.”

“And you’d be wrong, though the last time was before you joined us. It isn’t something I do often or take lightly when I do it. I watched Lucky let fear cost him a Dom that would have been perfect for him. He’s lost, he’s scared, and he needs way more than he’s willing to admit to. And no, I’ve never fucked around with him. Didn’t want to cause a shit-storm with my kid, my wife, or Teddy.”

“Guess that wouldn’t go over very well,” Thorn muttered sheepishly.

“Not in the slightest, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t consider it, if only to try and give the kid some stability and guidance. He needs more than just a part time Dom, though. He needs a home, rules, focus, someone to hold him accountable, but above all that, he needs someone to love him even when he’s being a shithead.”

All of them had chuckled at that, then fallen silent as Lucky’s door had swung open.

It was possible that Lucky had loved Cody, but Cain could never recall seeing Mark’s son at the club, so that still wouldn’t explain why Lucky was so averse to returning.

“No one ever wanted me enough to keep me.”

Those words, more than any other, fed in to Cain’s belief that Lucky had loved someone and they’d broken his heart. The question was, who were they and how long had they been out of the picture. Better still, how long would he and Thorn have to pay for what they’d done?

The door opened with a screech, reminding Cain that he’d forgotten to oil it. Thorn stood in the doorway, wearing the reading glasses he only bothered to put on at home. For some reason he seemed convinced that they made him look at least a decade older, despite all of Cain’s assurances that they simply made him look distinguished. The first time Cain had said it, Thorn had looked down at himself and laughed, then flung the glasses on his desk, remarking that it was the last thing he wanted to be.

“What’s with all the pacing, I swear it sounds like your trying to bring the ceiling down on my head,” Thorn remarked as he closed the door behind him and crossed the floor to Cain.

“I think Lucky was in love with someone,” Cain blurted. “Not just attached to them, but full on in love with them.”

Thorn went still, thoughtfully studying Cain. “What makes you think that?”

“How adamant he is about not forming any attachments, and what he said about no one wanting him enough to keep him around. Makes me think he had someone he cared about and they ditched him.”

“Mark would have known if he’d been involved with someone to that degree.”

“Not if he hid it from the club.”

“Hiding a crush from the club would have been easy, but hiding something that deep, no, I think Mark would have seen it.”

“Mark said he’s been pulling away from them for a while now.”

Thorn sighed heavily. “True, I’d almost forgotten about that. But love? Naaa, I think you’ve got it all wrong. I think he got into some shit that he didn’t want Mark to find out about. Maybe even suckered in by whoever he thought he was attached to.”

“Doesn’t explain why he’s afraid of relationships. It’s not like his old man had a rotating string of men and women in and out of the house, he was in a pretty stable, committed relationship for longer than Lucky’s been alive.”

“Stable and committed doesn’t mean there wasn’t turmoil, how do we know they weren’t fighting every night?”

“Cause living in a house like that would have been a living hell,” Cain pointed out, reminding Thorn of his own tumultuous upbringing.

Thorn pulled him into a hug and held him tight.

“He loved them, he mourns them, I just can’t see him doing that if they’d been like those fuckheads that spawned me,” Cain mumbled against Thorn’s chest.

“Yeah,” Thorn admitted, as he drew Cain over to the bed and sat down on the edge with him.

“If he loved someone once, he can learn to love us, right?” Cain asked softly, wanting desperately to believe that the young man he’d already fallen hard for would be able to someday love them back.

“Anything is possible,” Thorn said as he lay back with Cain in his arms. “Even that.”

***

The sun barely clung to the horizon, and save for a few hardcore surfers about two hundred yards down the coast, the beach was empty. Lucky held the board in his hands and watched carefully as Cain explained how to wax it, slowly demonstrating on his own. Lucky moved to emulate him, grateful when Cain leaned over and guided his hand until Lucky got the hang of it.

“Thanks.”

Cain nodded and turned his attention back to his own board. “No problem.”

“Why are we doing this anyway?”

“Wax makes the board less slippery.”

Lucky raised his head and studied Cain intently, trying to decide if he was being serious, or if he was making a joke at his expense.

Glancing up, Cain saw Lucky watching him and grinned. “What?”

“What’s the real reason?”

Cain laughed, scaring a nearby seagull. “That is the real reason, without wax on the board, we’d just slide off as soon as the board got wet. The reason there are so many different waxes in the shop is that different wax is designed to go with different temperatures in the water, that way guys can surf damn near year round and always have the right kind of wax for their boards.”

“So I’m guessing it’s not the same as car wax?”

“Nope. This helps you stick. Since it’s fall, we wouldn’t have to worry about the sun melting it off the board even if we got out here late, but in the summer, you want to get out here early, wax the board while the sun is still coming up, it’s a great way to watch the sunrise too.”

“Yeah,” Lucky muttered, drawing X’s in wax on the board the way Cain had shown him. “I always preferred watching the sun go down to watching it come up, unless I was ending the night as it was rising.”

Cain chuckled at that. “Yeah, I’ve had plenty of nights ended that way myself. Always did prefer to start my day on the beach though. Guess I figured it made up for anything that was gonna go wrong the rest of the day. That and I could get my head together out here, decide what I was gonna tackle and how to go about it. Being by the sea has always brought me peace.”

Lucky nodded at hearing that, and moved on to making circles over the middle of the board. “It’s the same for me. Couldn’t wait to get out of school each day and head for the water, do some spear fishing or just go for a swim.”

“You ever been diving?”

Lucky shook his head, tongue poking out of his mouth as he worked at getting a nice, even wax. “Yup, my Pops and I used to go all the time. Snorkeling too.”

“There’s some amazing things down there.”

“You can say that again. Have you ever seen a shark?”

“Once, and fortunately, I had time to get out of the wreck I was diving when I spotted it and get back onto the boat. They’re nothing to mess around with.”

“I think it would be cool to see one. From a distance,” Lucky added hastily.

“They’re pretty fuckin’ amazing, I’ll give ‘em that, but the teeth on those bastards were made to shred. Only way I want to see one is watching Shark Week on TV.”

Lucky couldn’t help but laugh at that, then Cain took Lucky’s hand and ran it over the board, letting him feel what it was like when his hand began to stick to the wax.

“Nice!” Lucky declared, rubbing it a few more time on his own and committing the feel to memory.

“Now, put the gloves on, and follow me.”

Lucky did as he was told, putting the webbed gloves on and opening and closing his fingers a few times to acclimate to them. Cain had already explained that the webbing would not only keep his hands warm, but help him propel through the water faster, but that didn’t stop them from feeling odd. He glanced up to see Cain watching him from the water’s edge and quickly headed toward him.

For the next hour, Lucky followed Cain’s instructions carefully and actually managed to make it to his feet several times, though wobbly. By the end, he’d gotten the hang of centering his weight and using his instep to turn the board, even if turning usually put him off balance and sent him tumbling headlong into the sea.

He always came up laughing though, and looking around for Cain who was never far from him.

“We’d better pack it in and head home to shower, but we can come out again tomorrow morning,” Cain offered.

“I’d like that,” Lucky admitted from where he sat on his board, feet dangling in the water, his eyes on the rougher waves crashing in the distance.

“Are those the kind you ride?”

Cain lifted his head and followed Lucky’s finger to the group further down the beach who were tearing it up on the crashing waves.

“Yeah, but it takes time to work up to those.”

“I don’t want to try them, I wanna watch you.”

Lucky watched Cain’s eyebrow raise and a slow smile cross his lips as he checked his watch. “Maybe we don’t have to go just yet.”

Now it was Lucky’s turn to smirk as he paddled toward the beach and he soon found himself sitting on the shore, his board across his lap as he watched Cain joining the others on the big waves. His riding was effortless. Lucky found himself in awe of the way Cain controlled the board, making it turn whichever direction he chose to send it in. He watched him drop into a tube, losing sight of him for a few breathless moments as the water curled over his head. When Cain shot out the end, still on the board, fingers trailing along the wall, Lucky laughed. Joy and relief flooding him.

He was already looking forward to tomorrow’s lesson. Every moment that he could spend one on one with Cain proved to be special in its own way. It was just so easy to let his guard down around Cain, to be honest when asked a question. The desire to leave was slowly fading, though at night, he still felt alone, even when Roscoe jumped up to sleep sprawled in the empty space on his bed.

Watching Cain come out of the water toward him, Lucky found himself wondering just what he would have to do in order to get Cain to take him completely. Would it always be a deal breaker that he and Thorn continued to snipe at one another every chance they got? He hoped not. Thorn scared him. He was too controlled, to severe, and something told Lucky that if he ever submitted to the gruff man, there would be no going back. And yet, he’d found himself wanting to. In the quiet moments when he could just observe Thorn laughing with Cain or sprawled in his favorite chair watching television. He’d lingered in the doorway one morning, watching Thorn throwing a Frisbee for Roscoe, rubbing the big dogs ears and praising him every time he brought it back and deep down, he’d found himself longing for a bit of that praise himself, even while continuing to rebel against the things he’d have to do to get it.

***

Lucky groaned and smacked at the loudly beeping alarm clock, hitting it several times before it mercifully fell silent. Getting up this early in the morning sucked, even if he did love painting at the shop. He wished he could burrow under the covers and sleep until noon, or better still, play under the covers with Cain and Thorn until hunger forced them to take a break for lunch.

It was getting harder and harder to resist thinking about having them both, to picture himself as a sandwich, straddling Cain’s lap and kissing the man intently while Thorn fucked him from behind. He felt his cock twitch at the thought of those work weathered hands on his hips, Thorn’s length pounding into him, forcing his erection to rub against Cain’s relentlessly.

With a groan, he closed his eyes and let his hand trail down his abs, pushing at the waistband of his boxers until he’d managed to shove them low enough to kick them off.

Thorn would be rough, he just knew it, his strokes long, powerful, hammering into him so that he’d feel it for hours after they were done. Cain’s fingers would find his nipple rings, twisting, pulling, edging closer and closer to pain with every tug.

With a groan, Lucky palmed his erection with one hand, reached up and tugged at one of his nipple rings with the other, the effect drawing more urgent sounds from him. He pictured Thorn pulling out and pushing Lucky forward, maneuvering him to take Cain in his ass next, the sensations different, being on top, controlling the movements, especially with Thorn at his back. Would the older man urge him to go faster, would he stroke his cock while Lucky rode Cain’s? Would he nip and suck, or even bite along his neck and shoulders, marking him, making him writhe between them?

Fuck but he wanted that, needed it.

He mewled, stroking his cock fast, twisting the nipple ring, then pulling it, hard, his hips jerking frantically before he came, hot spunk splattering his chest and neck. The relief felt amazing. Lucky closed his eyes, sinking into the softness of the bed and floating on pleasure until reality crashed in on him again. A quick glance at the time told him he wasn’t running late, yet, but he didn’t have time to lay in bed plotting out design ideas. Having free reign to create anything that might make a board look wicked was awesome, and as much as he hated to admit it, Mark had been right, it was really expanding his range to work on a surface bigger and less curved than a gas tank or fender.

With a sigh, he rolled from the bed, took a quick shower and headed to the kitchen for a bowl of cereal and a nectarine.

“You got mail,” Thorn declared, handing Lucky a letter. A quick glance at the envelope told him that it was from the clinic and he quickly tore it open and read the results.

“Thorn,” Lucky began after he finished reading it.

Thorn turned his attention back to Lucky, coming over to stand beside his chair. “What’s up?”

Lucky held the papers out to him, cheeks flushing just a little as his eyes met Thorns. “It’s the test results from the clinic, it says I don’t have anything.”

Thorn nodded and took the paper, giving it a quick scan himself. “Good deal, that’s what we were hoping to hear. We still need to get your weight up though. I’m not trying to be an ass about it, your jeans are riding real low, I’m just worried that you’ll get sick if you don’t make sure you eat right. Maybe we need to do a better job around the shop, start putting some fruit and stuff in the fridge that we can all snack on. Take out isn’t the best thing in the world for any of us.”

Lucky chewed his lower lip for a moment, brows knitted as he considered Thorn’s words. “We could always start making extra at dinner time, my Pops and the Old Man did it all the time. They’d pack up the extra for lunch the next day, said it saved them money as well as time.”

“That’s a good idea, I like it. Let’s try that and see how it goes.”

“I think it would be good to do as you said and put some fruit in the fridge too,” Lucky added. “And maybe some cereal bars.”

“Yeah, we can do that. Maybe if we walk around the store, we might find a few other things to toss in there too. We all get too busy to eat sometimes. A full fridge might help us eat better.”

“What’s wrong with the way we eat?” Cain asked as he sauntered into the room with Roscoe on his heels.

“Too much fast food, for one, and nothing to snack on at the shop for another. I can’t really get on Lucky’s case for skipping meals or losing weight if all we have at the shop is cartons of leftovers and stale cookies.”

Cain’s nose wrinkled in disgust. “Good point.”

“So, we’re gonna start cooking extra at dinner and packing it in the morning for lunch and we’re all going to do better about not ordering so much crap.”

Nodding, Cain plucked a banana from the bowl and ate it in four quick bites. “You won’t get any argument from me.”

“Good,” Thorn replied. “And Cain, a banana doesn’t count as breakfast for you either. Sit down and have a bowl of cereal, we have time enough to get there.”

Cain did as he was told, filling his bowl from the box Lucky had already set out on the table.  The meal was short, and soon they were on their way to work on the back of their bikes. As they always did, they unlocked the doors, set out the signs and displays, then headed their own separate ways, Cain to the shaping shack, Thorn to man the main showroom, and Lucky to the back work room where all of his paints lay in wait. Today he was airbrushing jellyfish on a pale blue board, looking to achieve the translucent, glass-like effect of their iridescent forms. Given the mood he’d woken to this morning, and how excited he’d been to start this board, he put on some heavy industrial music early, but as the day had worn on and he’d gotten closer and closer to the final touches on the board, he simply turned the music off and focused on the finishing details in silence.

The pale blue base really made the reds, blues, purples and oranges of the jellyfish heads stand out, and their tentacles, where they intertwined, created this tangled, flowy tye-dyed effect that gave the illusion of movement and motion. It left him wondering what the design would look like when the board was in motion. In his mind’s eye, he could almost picture a living thing, surging along the surface of the water.

His eyes skimmed over the design one last time, searching for flaws or things he might have forgotten to add, but he spotted nothing. A sense of pride surged through him, along with anxious, eager anticipation at showing the new design to Cain and Thorn.

But first, Lucky unhooked the airbrush gun and cleaned it, then made sure all of his paints were capped properly and put away. He wiped down the counter and the work bench behind him, then folded all of the plastic and put it away. The clock on the wall read a quarter after nine, another late night, which would mean Thorn had gone home already to see about dinner. Lucky wasn’t sure why they never took turns, but he sort of wished they would, maybe alone they could have some kind of a conversation like the one they’d had in the kitchen that morning, when Thorn had shown nothing but concern for him.

If he was being honest with himself, he had to admit that it kind of sucked, the conflicts they typically had. He had vague memories of those first few days when he’d been sick as hell and Thorn had sat with him and told him stories the way his Old Man used to, it had lessoned the hurt a little that neither his Pops nor Old Man was there. It sucked, though that as soon as he’d been healthy, Thorn had gone back to growling and glaring. Though to be fair, Lucky had to admit he’d kept on being surly to the man and flat out refused to call him Sir the way he’d come to refer to Cain.

It wasn’t as hard as he’d imagined, giving Cain that measure of respect and addressing him without a litany of curses, in fact, it seemed to bring a smile to Cain’s face each time Lucky remembered and little gestures of affection too. Those, Lucky was coming to cherish, even seek out whenever the opportunity arose. Maybe he needed to give more thought to doing the same with Thorn.

His stomach growled, reminding Lucky that it was past supper time. With one last glance around the room, he decided it was time to show Cain the board so they could head home and eat. When he stepped out of the back room, the sound of soft music and a box cutter tearing through tape caught his attention and he headed that way. Cain was kneeling beside a display of webbed gloves, restocking it. When Cain looked up and caught him staring, Lucky couldn’t resist giving him a smile.

“The board is done,” Lucky declared. “Turned out pretty sweet too, wait ‘til you see it.”

“Give me a minute.”

Lucky nodded and waited while Cain finished emptying the box, then checked the task off of the clipboard he never seemed to be without.

“If I don’t write shit down I’ll forget to do it,” Cain had explained when Lucky had asked him about it. “Get distracted easy, especially when the big waves are breaking.”

Lucky had witnessed Cain’s distractions more than once while he’d been working around the shop, like early that morning, when Lucky was sweeping up while waiting for a coat to dry. Cain was supposed to be washing the front windows, but instead he’d stood frozen, eyes on the sea, until Thorn had gone over and snapped him out of it.

Lucky had envied the intimacy of each and every casual caress. The way Thorn had bumped shoulders with Cain and then leaned against him, heads pressed together as Thorn had spoken to Cain too low for anyone else to hear. There was a moment when Thorn slid his fingertips down Cain’s back and Cain had shivered and then grinned up at him, nodded his head at something Thorn had said and then went back to wiping the windows. Lucky had watched as Thorn had lingered, studying Cain, the heat in his expression when he’d turned around had been enough to make Lucky swallow hard and fight down the desire to someday have that gaze turned on him.

He’d reminded himself that Thorn didn’t seem to like him, and that was enough to cool the rising desire that had surged through him. Now, as he watched Cain walk toward him, he had to wonder how long Cain would keep playing games with him before he admitted that nothing real was ever gonna happen.

Cain smiled as he finished breaking down the box and stepped up beside Lucky, who looked away, gut clenching as he realized how quickly this could all be over.

“What’s wrong?”

Lucky blinked, looking up to see the concerned look in Cain’s eyes.

For a moment, Lucky considered saying nothing, but he knew that would just lead to Cain prying and pushing him to talk. “A little too deep in my own head right now,” Lucky admitted, hoping that would be enough to get Cain to back off.

“Then let’s see what we can do to fix that,” Cain suggested, and stepped right into Lucky’s space. Lucky’s eyes widened and when he tried to take a step back Cain followed, one hand going to Lucky’s waist, the other landing on his shoulder.

“Wh—”

“Shhhhh,” Cain silenced him easily as Lucky blinked up into his eyes.

The radio was on low, it was always low when Cain played it. Thorn liked it loud much the same way Lucky usually did. Right now some soft song was on, heavy on the piano with a sad sounding guitar, and Lucky found himself drawn to it.

A knowing smile crossed Cain’s face as he moved just a little, his hand on Lucky’s hip urging him to move too. Soon they were swaying to the beat, Lucky’s arms around Cain’s neck, his head pressed against Cain’s shoulder.

Lucky couldn’t help the contented sigh that escaped his lips or the way he pressed just a little bit tighter, seeking Cain’s warmth and more of the soft caresses that Cain was trailing down the back of his neck.

“When was the last time you danced,” Cain asked.

Lucky inhaled the scent of salt water and sand that clung to Cain’s skin and guessed that the man must have headed down to catch a few waves on his lunch break. “Like this, never. Club stuff though, a few times, whenever Cody wanted to go.”

“Did you like it?”

“Naw, that was Cody’s thing, not mine. Most times I’d just sit at the bar unless he dragged me out on the dance floor. I like this better. Not as loud and not so many limbs flying around.”

Cain chuckled and stroked his fingers through Lucky’s hair. “That can be annoying,” he admitted, before falling silent again.

Content to just give in to the movement and the motion, Lucky closed his eyes and swayed, letting every thought, every feeling just melt away. Even after the song changed to something a little faster, neither man moved away from the other, the distance between them having been swallowed up by their need to get as close as clothes would allow.

Cain kissed the top of Lucky’s head, then tilted his face up so he could brush a soft kiss over each of Lucky’s closed eyelids. Lucky shivered, lips parting slightly, and Cain took full advantage of them to kiss Lucky deep and thorough. Lucky moaned at the intensity of the kiss, then returned it furiously, gripping Cain’s t-shirt in grasping, greedy hands.

Lucky broke the kiss intending to beg Cain to bend him over the counter and fuck him, but the shrill ringing off the telephone cut off his words.

“That’ll be Thorn, wondering when the hell we’re getting done here,” Cain muttered as he moved to answer it.

“Thought you said he was almost finished?” Thorn snapped by way of hello.

“He’s done, was just about to take a look at the board and send you the pictures.”

“Well hurry up will ya, this damned meatloaf is gonna be dried out by the time you guys get here. I don’t know why I bothered with it, should have just ordered a pizza.”

“What crawled up your ass and died tonight?”

“Just tired of fucking around here every night waiting for you two to come home. The god damned windows look fine now, from now on you guys come home with me.”

“You sure? When you left you were talking about having him do a replacement board for the octopus I sold this morning.”

“Yeah, and the shark board too, that was a nice one, still, didn’t think it would go that fast. That’s not the point though, he’s done five boards in eight days, that still leaves three for the display. He can work on the new boards during working hours from here on out. End of discussion.”

“All right, I get it. Give me a few minutes to look at the new board and then we’ll be on our way.”

“Well hurry it the fuck up!”

The abrupt slam of the phone made Cain scowl before he placed the receiver back in the cradle. Rubbing his forehead he massaged his temples for a moment before turning back to Lucky.

“He’s pissed at me for taking so long, isn’t he?”

Cain gave a slight shake of his head as he stepped past Lucky and turned off the radio. “Nope. Going stir crazy. He gets like that sometimes. It just means that he misses us.”

“Misses you, you mean. I doubt he’d notice if I was there or not. Doubt he’d trust me with a key to lock up on my own so you can go home with him from now on.”

“I’ve got no problem trusting you with a key, but neither of us wants to ditch you here to paint until all hours of the night. The boards are awesome; people have been coming in all week to ask about them. From here on out, you ride in with us in the morning and we all leave together at five. You did good, Lucky, thanks for rocking those boards out the way you did.”

The simple praise brought a huge smile to Lucky’s face and impulsively he grabbed Cain’s hand and all but tugged him toward the back room.

“Come on, I think you’re really gonna love this one.”

And with that, he pulled Cain to the backroom, yanked the door open and dragged him in to stand beside the door, his smile getting even wider when Cain’s jaw dropped. Lucky watched the way Cain moved around the board, pausing often to study it.

“Christ, Lucky, this is some amazing shit right here. Holy hell, how the fuck did you make them look so clear?”

“Lots of blending and hand painting the heads, making sure the colors were the right shades, layers, and just, taking my time to get it to look right,” Lucky explained.

“Damn.” The word came out on a slow exhale and Cain just shook his head and pulled out his phone, snapping pictures and forwarding them ahead to Thorn.

When he was done, Cain stood back and studied Lucky. “How many classes did you have to take to learn all of this?”

“Was all trial and error, though some of my high school art classes really helped. I used to get in trouble in study hall, I couldn’t sit there and work on my assignments without fiddling with things or being a distraction, so they started assigning me extra art classes instead of study halls. Some of them were really cool.”

“Like?”

“Cartooning, pop art, life drawing, watercolors, Japanese animation, even charcoal,” Lucky explained. “There were a few, like still life that I never really got into, but most of them were amazing.”

“Have you ever considered college classes to see what other skills and techniques you could pick up?”

“Before my Old Man got sick I took a couple, I even tried my hand at metalworking, just ‘cause it seemed fun to see what I could do with some spare parts and a blowtorch. I stopped taking them after he was diagnosed though, my head wasn’t in the right place to focus on finishing a project, it went from being fun to frustrating.”

“I can understand that,” Cain said as he tucked his phone away. “But now, maybe you can check into the continuing education program the community college offers and see if they have a class or two you might like to take. We might actually have a catalogue at the house still, Thorn was looking into a class in deep sea fishing a few months back.”

“He fishes?”

“Not yet, but he keeps talking about learning.”

“My Pops and I used to go fishing all the time. He had an old boat called, ‘The Sea Whore’ that we used to go out on all time.”

“What happened to it?”

“He sold it after my Old Man died, said it wasn’t worth keeping anymore. I think what he really meant was he didn’t want the memories.”

“That would be my guess too. Come on, we’d better go before Thorn calls back in an even worse mood,  but here’s a thought, if you stick around, maybe you could teach Thorn to fish.”

“Like he’d let me,” Lucky muttered as he followed Cain outside to their bikes.

“Never know until you try.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

For the first time since coming to live with Thorn and Cain, Lucky had his lunch break to himself. His first instinct had been to head down to the pier and take a seat on the rocks underneath, which gave an amazing view of the wooden structure and the waves lazily rolling in.

The view was inspiring, already a new design was tumbling around in his head as he took a bite of his sandwich, savored the mingled flavors of turkey, bacon, tomato and ranch, and closed his eyes, giving in to the image curling around in his mind.

It would look awesome on a long board, the stretch of the pier, the sun setting in the distance, the single silhouette of the lone surfer. It didn’t take long for the silhouette to waver, the dark shadows giving way to a face and body; Thorn’s face, his shrewd eyes staring straight into Lucky’s soul with an intensity that always scared the hell out of him.

Even today, when Lucky had asked for some time by the water alone to generate ideas, Thorn had invaded his space, reminded him that he only had an hour for lunch, that there was work to do and expectations, all with a look in his eyes that made Lucky want to do everything in his power to avoid disappointing him.

What would it be like to hear real praise from Thorn? To see a smile soften the cold, harsh expressions that were so often directed at him. Lucky sighed, remembering the softness of Thorn’s hand, cool on his forehead when he’d been ill and the way the man had slid his arm beneath Lucky’s shoulder’s to lift his head so he could drink. Thorn had been so careful with him, so attentive to his needs and his comfort, at least until he’d been feeling better, then he’d gone back to the gruff, no nonsense man who’d pulled him from the water.

***

“Well look who it is, boys.”

Santiago spat in the dirt as he shoved away from his bike, the crunch of gravel behind him letting him know that his two associates were following.

Their shadows were long as they spilled across the sand, boots going silent except for the occasional crunch of a broken shell. Their target seemed oblivious, sitting beneath the wooden pier, eyes on the water, a half-eaten sandwich in his hand.

“Hey, pretty boy, where’s your big ass dog now?”

***

With his headphones in, Lucky didn’t hear the taunt, or have any sort of warning before he was shoved, hard, the sandwich spilling from his hand. He turned, hands coming up, just in time to see a fist flying at his face. His quick reflexes saved him, he was able to turn away enough to take the punch to the side of the head instead of the eye. It still dropped him to one knee, unable to see the kick that knocked the air out of him when it caught him in the side. Groaning, Lucky rolled with it and came up with a handful of sand that he hurled into the eyes of the man advancing on him.

Someone punched him in the ribs, while a second set of hands grabbed hold of his arm and wrenched it behind his back. Lucky kicked backwards, catching the man square in the knee on the second try, the man’s howls of pain sending a flock of seagulls into the air. Mercifully, it also meant the guy let go. Charging, Lucky speared his third attacker, driving him into the surf and raining punches down on the man, who blocked and caught him with an uppercut, rocking his head back and leaving him open to being rolled.

Feeling the water on his back, Lucky kicked upwards and flipped his attacker off of him and staggered to his feet, just in time to get smacked across the back by a broken board from the crumbling boardwalk above them. The pain and impact drove the air from his lungs and Lucky staggered, then dropped to his knees when he was struck again.

A third shot caught him in the center of the back, it didn’t feel like a board, more like the hard point of an elbow. Pain shot through him and Lucky snarled and tried to spin around to attack them, but an arm looped beneath his chin and wrenched his head back at a painful angle, making it difficult to breathe, let alone think.

“Listen, you stupid little fuck. You tell those two bastards that they had better come up with my money or my artifacts or I’m gonna tear you apart and leave you for the crabs to find.”

Jaw clenched, Lucky bit back a response, torn between everything he really wanted to say and the real fear that they’d kill him right there under the boardwalk. In the end, fear won out.

Glaring, Lucky watched as Santiago gave a nod to the man that was holding him, and blinding pain shot through the back of Lucky’s skull. Orange and white spots danced before his eyes, so bright that when he was released he pitched forward in the sand, unable to catch himself. Laying there, with the surf soaking his hair, Lucky watched as three sets of boots disappeared. Only when he was certain that he was alone did he give in to the desire to close his eyes for a little while.

***

When Lucky awoke it was dark, his body ached and his clothes were soaked, but the first thought that went to his mind was that has going to be punished for breaking the rules. Slowly, he got to his knees and gasped as the muscles in his back protested. Sand clung to him in clumps and crumbled off his clothes as he staggered to his feet, each movement producing a groan.

A quick glance down at his old watch showed that it was cracked and the seawater had finished it off completely. The moon was bright in a sky full of stars and he could only assume that he was fired for never having returned from his lunch break. His heartbeat picked up as he imagined arriving back to the house to finding his backpacks on the lawn and a note telling him to find someplace else to stay.

Heart hammering, Lucky staggered up the dune to his bike, his back groaning in protest at every movement. It was a short ride home, but by the time he arrived his anxiety level had his stomach twisted in knots and his body ridged. Seeing the lawn empty didn’t ease his fears in the slightest. His hand trembled on the doorknob, but before he could turn it the door was yanked open and he found himself face to face with Cain and Thorn.

“Decided to take a half day?” Thorn asked. His arms were crossed over his chest and the dim light spilling around him just made him more menacing.

“No, I—”

“Where were you Lucky, we were worried?” Cain asked.

“I had lunch on the beach, like I said I was gonna—”

“Must have been the longest lunch in history,” Thorn cut in sarcastically. “How many courses, ten, twelve, guess you’re not up for the meal we’ve been keeping warm for you.”

Cain pushed the door open wider and took a good long look at Lucky’s wet and disheveled condition, including the sand clinging to his clothing and skin.

“Did something happen?”

“Yeah, nothing I couldn’t handle though, its fine.”

“Somehow I doubt that,” Thorn said reluctantly.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come back. I passed out in the sand and I just woke up a few minutes ago and rode home, I swear to God I didn’t go anywhere but where I told you I was going.”

Silence, but Lucky maintained eye contact with them, hoping they wouldn’t push. Santiago’s message weighed heavy on his mind, as was the worry the older man and his boys would catch him unaware again, and it was on the tip of his tongue to tell them the full truth of what had happened, when inspiration struck. Maybe if he could show Cain and Thorn that he could deal with Santiago and make him go away they’d start trusting him more, see that he wasn’t worthless.

“I believe you,” Cain said.

Lucky smiled gratefully, and tried to step past them only to have Cain slam his arm across Lucky’s path, barring the door.

“But I also believe that there is something you’re not telling us.”

Lucky’s breathing picked up and he opened his mouth, then snapped it shut again.

“Yeah, thought so,” Cain muttered, then he dropped his arm and moved back, pulling Thorn with him. Cautiously, Lucky stepped back into the house, grateful that at least one of its inhabitants was happy to see him. Roscoe bounded up looking to have his ears scratched, and Lucky happily obliged.

“So are you hungry or not?” Thorn asked.

Lucky glanced up at the man’s scowling face, then back down at the dog he was petting. “Hungry.”

“Fine, change and then come on to the kitchen. Can’t promise it’ll taste good though.”

Lucky said nothing, just hurried to his room and changed quickly, then went to the kitchen and headed to the fridge to pour himself a drink to wash dinner down with. Cain pulled the foil wrapped plate from the oven and set it down on the counter, then turned to grab Lucky a fork.

“Thank you, Sir,” Lucky said.

“You can stop calling me Sir, it’s pretty clear you’re not ready for that sort of relationship.”

Lucky’s hand stilled, halfway to accepting the fork, stunned by the disappointment he saw in Cain’s eyes.

“It’s a shame, really,” Cain said as he set the fork down beside Lucky’s plate and turned away.

“I’ll try harder,” Lucky blurted, all thoughts of food forgotten, the knots in his stomach, which had begun to loosen when they’d let him in, tightened painfully.

“We’ll see,” was all Cain said before busying himself with wiping down counters that already looked as if they’d been cleaned.

“I’m heading down to Florida for a couple days,” Cain declared after Lucky had mashed most of his meal into an unappealing lump. “Of course you would have known that if you hadn’t been sleeping on the beach. Got a custom order that needs delivering and a couple potential clients to meet. Incidentally, one of them saw a picture someone snapped of the boards in the window and they are talking about wanting a custom paintjob as well.”

Lucky’s head snapped up.

“It’ll be a big responsibility; I hope you’ll take it seriously. It won’t be your reputation on the line if you don’t, but ours for entrusting it to you.”

“I will do the best paint job you have ever seen,” Lucky sought to assure him.

“Let’s hope so. Let’s hope I haven’t been wrong about you.”

And with that, Cain left him to his cold and unappealing meal, taking Roscoe with him. In silence, Lucky thought back to the day that had started with such promise. If only he hadn’t asked to take his lunchbreak on the beach, hoping it would spark a new idea of a design.

A quick glance at the plate was enough to remind him that he was breaking another rule, had, technically, broken one that afternoon by not finishing his sandwich. Maybe they wanted to take the rules away, but Lucky needed them, they’d been helping to keep the chaos at bay and right now they were the only things he had to let him feel like he belonged.

As unappetizing as it was, Lucky ate the mushed up mess slowly, while going over ways he might make Santiago pay.

***

“Okay, spill it,” Mark demanded as he dropped onto the space beside Lucky on the porch railing. “What’s with all this bullshit I’ve been hearing about you planning to cover up the ink on your back?”

“It’s not bullshit,” Lucky said as he hopped down and moved away. “Soon as I get the cash I’m getting it covered.”

“You wanna explain why?”

“Cause I’m not part of the club anymore, in case you didn’t notice. Oh wait, you’re the one who kicked me out.”

“I noticed when I suspended you that I said nothing about it being permanent. You want to be pissed at me, fine, but what your planning would be spitting in the faces of everyone who voted you in and everything we all worked so hard to teach you.”

“Then tell them I voted myself out,” he replied stubbornly.

“You know it doesn’t work that way,” Mark replied, fingers tapping an impatient beat on his arm.

“You’re the president, you can make it work that way!” Lucky demanded.

“Oh, how you remember that I’m supposed to be in charge. When the hell are you gonna start listening to me then? I am trying to help you, Lucky, don’t you fuckin’ get it or are you still too busy hating everyone because shit got real and you can’t handle it?”

“When am I gonna listen to you?” Lucky replied bitterly. “Never. I’m taking off as soon as I make enough. They like my work or at least, they don’t think it sucks, so I can work at the surf shop for a few months, as long as they’ll let me stick around, and I’ll sort through my crap and see what to take with me and what to burn. Then you won’t ever have to bail me out with anyone again.”

Growling, Mark grabbed Lucky’s arm and gave him a rough shake. “Are you stupid or just that god damned hard headed? Jesus FUCK, Lucky, do you like just aimlessly wandering through life hooking up and fucking up every chance you get?”

“Yes!”

Mark sucked in a deep breath and let it out slow. “All right, I can see that the only cure for stupid is gonna be to just step back and let you keep on being stupid. But, you’re throwing away a once in a lifetime chance here, kid, and I’m telling you now, if you mark over that ink it’s over. No second chances, no forgiveness, that’s the deal breaker, there is no coming back to the club, I don’t care what kind of shit you get into.”

“Is that a threat?” Lucky growled.

“No, it’s a god damned guarantee. You don’t want to try me on that, Lucky. When I put that ink on you it was marking you as family, my family, you spit on that, and you are done. You’ll be dead to me, got it?”

“You don’t know what I want.”

“You’re right, I don’t and I’ve been beating my head against walls trying to figure it out because you won’t tell me.”

“Fine,” Lucky snarled, pushing himself right up into Mark’s face, glaring up into the larger man’s eyes. “I want you to fuck off and stop trying to be my old man ‘cause you ain’t.”

“No,” Mark said coldly. “I ain’t and you had better count your blessings, ‘cause I’d have beat your ass way more times than old Sidewinder ever did. Do you think he’d be proud of this shit you’ve been pulling?”

“Doesn’t matter now, does it? He’s gone,” Lucky snapped as he stalked past Mark, knocking his shoulder into Mark’s arm, though it hurt his shoulder more than it moved the much larger man. He was proud of himself though, for walking to the bike instead of running and for not letting it be noticeable that he was shaking like a leaf.

He touched the chain at his side, assuring himself that his wallet was there. It would dent his bank account, but he needed to do this before he changed his mind.

***

Mark groaned and rubbed his temples, feeling the dull ache behind them begin to pound even more insistently. He was grateful to see a large bottle of whiskey sitting beside Thorn on the counter with a couple shot glasses beside it.

“Let me guess, he pitched a fit and took off like a petulant little kid?” Thorn asked as soon as Mark sat down on one of the stools beside the counter.

“Nope…” Mark said, his tone was almost one of admiration. “He got the balls to get all up in my face and tell me to fuck off. Then he took off like a petulant little kid.”

Thorn rolled his eyes and started pouring them each a shot of whiskey.

“He needs his ass beat,” Mark muttered as he picked up his shot glass and quickly tossed it back.

“He just took off without permission, he just earned an ass beating,” Thorn replied, raising his glass in salute before tossing it back and pouring more.

“How’s he handle it?”

“What?”

“You punishing him. Sidewinder never did discipline him much and I’ll always swear he needed a good paddling to set him straight.”

“Haven’t had to yet. He’s been good about sticking to the rules, well, accept that he still refuses to address me as Sir.”

“Still?”

“Yeah. He’s been willing to say it to Cain from the moment we got here though.”

Mark chuckled. “Let me guess, Cain turned on the charm.”

“More like finessed him a little.”

“And we know you have no finesse,” Mark laughed. “So, what, you’re just gonna let Cain punish him?”

“At this point, it’s not like I have much choice. He’s not willing to accept any form of authority from me, even though I’ve caught him watching me when he doesn’t think I’m looking, and he wasn’t sizing me up for a fight, not from the heat in those eyes.”

“So he wants you to fuck him, but that’s about all he wants.”

“Pretty much.”

“And you won’t because….”

“A, he won’t ask, and B, that’s not what I’m after and you know it. I’ve had him, Cain and I both have, and it sucked every time we had to walk away.”

“So tell him that, fuck, Thorn, just say something to him so he knows this isn’t something new.”

“Cain keeps saying that, too.”

“And yet, again, you won’t listen. I give up. You and Lucky, you’re too much alike. I’ve got nothing more to say about it, I’ll just watch and see how it plays out, and maybe pick up the wreck the kid makes of himself when it’s over.”

“If he’ll let you.”

“There is that.”

***

Sitting outside of the tattoo parlor, Lucky stared at the bright designs on the outside of the building and the swirling open sign, second guessing every furious word that had led him to this place. Prickles of unease ran down his spine, his stomach clenched and the loud, sane, rational part of his brain screamed at him to turn the bike around and go back home to take his punishment for leaving without permission and then apologize for even considering doing this.

The angry, hurt part of him, however, was howling at him to make it permanent, to throw them away before any of them could desert him like his Pops had done. He was trembling, just a little, as he climbed off his bike and walked toward the shop.

Inside, there was no one in the waiting room. He’d half hoped there would be, or better still, they’d be booked for the night, but a quick inquiry at the desk revealed that there were a couple hours before the next appointment. No time for anything big, like the dragon he’d been considering, but time enough for the reject tag.

“Hi, I’m Bill, so what are you looking to have done today?” Asked the large man who stepped from the back with half his face tattooed. He was freakishly tall, with a piercing black gaze, shrewd, like he was assessing Lucky before he ushered him towards his table, his receptionist/assistant following to help set everything up.

“I need a banner with the word reject in Old English Script to run through the tattoo on my back, right under the letters that are already there.”

“Are we talking cover-up, if so you’ve come to the right place those are my specialty.”

“Somewhat,” Lucky said and pulled off his t-shirt, turning around so they could see it.

“Man, hey, dude, that’s some serious ink there, bro.”

Lucky ducked his head and muttered. “I know.”

“You can’t seriously want to fuck this up with script,” the artist said, running his fingers over the details in the joker and exploding dice. Lucky flinched when they hit a bruise, and the artist ceased his inspection and looked up at Lucky with a frown.

“You might want to wait for these to heal before you have any work done, that’s gonna hurt like a son of a bitch if I go over it with a needle.”

“Pain doesn’t bother me,” Lucky replied firmly.

“This is way too beautiful,” the receptionist remarked as she moved around to face Lucky. “Why would you want to ruin it?”

“It’s already ruined.”

“Man, you need to take another look in the mirror, this piece is perfect. I can’t tell you when the last time was I saw a piece of ink this nice. The shit people usually come here to have covered up is prison crap, wavy uneven lined, blobs of undetailed garbage. This piece right here is art. What you’re asking for would be like taking a magic marker to the Mona Lisa.”

“Use a sharpie, it’ll last longer,” Lucky muttered.

“You sure you won’t regret this in the morning? Maybe you should go home, think about it, we’re not going anywhere,” the receptionist assured him.

“Yeah, seriously, bro, we been here fifteen years, we’ll be here tomorrow, Go home, check out your ink in the mirror, think about all the hours that you had to sit for that. Couldn’t have been easy, man. At the very least, let those bruises heal up.”

“No, it’s gotta be today,” Lucky told them, pleading with them to understand. “I have to.”

“Why?” Bill asked, his whole tone having changed. “Is this gang ink? If it is, you need a complete cover up not just a word scrolled through it.”

Lucky turned around so he could face the big, tatted up artist, his eyes pleading. “Motorcycle club, they kicked me out. I need you to do the tat, tonight, I need it over with.”

Bill sucked in a deep breath and shot a glance at his assistant, whatever passed between them, Lucky couldn’t be sure, but he let out a relieved sigh when she stepped around Bill and headed over to the table to start laying out supplies for him.

“Thank you,” Lucky said as he sat on the edge of the table.

“I just hope you’re still thanking me when I’m done,” Bill remarked as he began setting up his gun. “They have anything to do with the bruises all over your back? Some of them look pretty bad. It’s going to be hard to tattoo you without hitting them.”

“That was a whole different brand of shit I got myself into,” Lucky told him. “Just, don’t worry about hurting me. I’ve been hurt a hell of a lot worse than that and no one cared.”

Bill let out a sigh and shook his head. “Get comfortable, let me print something up and size it out so you can take a look at it.”

“Okay,” Lucky said as he stretched out. It was a nice place, lots of cool art on the walls, some amazing painted skulls, but he couldn’t relax, he wanted to get on with it and the other part of him wanted to run.

Deep breaths, he reminded himself, wishing there was music on, wishing his Old Man was here, or Cody, or anyone else in the club to rib him and make him laugh.

“How’s this look to you?” Bill asked, startling Lucky out of the memory of Devon McGee in a crazy rabbit mask, arm in arm with a chick in a playboy bunny costume, swigging white rum from a bottle as they’d swaggered into Mark’s shop the day Lucky had been getting the tattoo that ran from his shoulder halfway down his arm.

Lucky blew out a shaky breath and looked at the stenciled lettering, barely seeing it.

“Do it in black please.”

Lucky closed his eyes, felt the coolness of the water as the transfer was applied to his back. Bill tapped him on the shoulder and Lucky opened his eyes again to see him holding a mirror.

“Make sure it’s where you want it,” Bill remarked, but Lucky just shook his head.

“Just do it, please,” he replied, closing his eyes again.

“Oh brutha, I just hope you don’t end up regretting this,” Bill said as he snapped the gloves on.

The first touch of the needle made Lucky flinch. Funny, it had never hurt before, but today his body was tight and ridged and every line was agony. He bit the inside of his lip and focused on breathing, breathing, breathing until the urge to scream stop melted away.

Time seemed to melt into a haze of memories, pain and kicking himself for even being here. When the whirl of the needles stopped, Lucky just lay there, dizzy, sick and lightheaded in a way he’d never felt after he’d had a tattoo done.

“You okay?” Bill asked as he knelt next to Lucky’s head. “Shit, bro, you’re pale as hell.”

“Don’t feel so hot,” Lucky muttered.

“Hang on, just, take slow breaths, okay.”

“Yeah.”

Lucky heard the sound of a drawer opening, some plastic as Bill rummaged around, then he was back again, kneeling next to Lucky and pulling the wrapper off a sucker, that he passed over to Lucky, helping him wrap shaky fingers around it.

“Endorphins wore off is all,” Bill pointed out. “Makes the blood sugar drop. Stay still and suck on that until you feel better, I have more if you need them. Man how the hell did you ever sit through the big pieces if you crash like that?”

“Never crashed before,” Lucky grumbled. “Never hurt before either.”

“Damn.”

“Exactly,” Lucky muttered then stuck the sucker in his mouth. He was halfway finished with it before he started feeling less shaky, so he lay there until he’d eaten it all before he tried to slowly sit up.

“Doing okay now, hun?” Bill’s assistant asked as she brought a mirror over for Lucky.

He didn’t want to see it, but the way he she was holding the mirror made it impossible not to. The black was dark across the old black and gray, like an abomination, like someone had carved his back up and left him to bleed. He wished they had.

“I fucked up,” he whispered, more to himself than anything.

Oh fuck, oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck Mark was gonna kill him, Cody was gonna kill him, they were all gonna be pissed as hell, it was over, it was all over, and instead of the relief he’d expected it to be he was scared as hell.

“Hey! Hey man, slow you’re breathing down. Relax. You gotta slow down man, focus, hey, listen to me, breathe. Slow.”

It took time for Lucky to manage it, to focus on Bill and his assistant’s words and get his breathing back under control. Through it all his vision had gotten dimmer and dimmer, the edges closing in on him. Even after his breathing was back under control it was hard to see, it was like the whole world had dimmed. Bill’s assistant brought him a bottle of water and Lucky drank it eagerly, then ran his hand through his hair, shocked to find it sweat soaked and damp.

“You good now?” Bill asked as he watched Lucky from his chair. “Maybe you should let us call someone for you, not sure it’s a good idea if you drive right now.”

“No!” Lucky blurted a bit louder than he meant to. “I mean, no thanks, it’s fine, I’ve got my bike out there, I’m good to drive her. Thank you. How much do I owe you?”

“A hundred seventy, but the advice I’ll give for free. Don’t have any more ink done, man, if that’s how it affects you, it just ain’t worth it.”

“Got it,” Lucky said as he pulled the bills from his wallet and passed them over, then stood and made his way towards the door. “Thanks again.”

“I’d say anytime, but I’m hoping I won’t see you back here,” Bill replied as Lucky opened the door.

“Don’t worry, you won’t,” Lucky said softly as he stepped out into the night.

***

At the house, Mark and Thorn sat at the kitchen table, bottle of booze and a couple shot glasses in front of them, along with a scattered stack of photographs laying out the damage to the shop.

“That’s Santiago’s MO,” Mark said as he tossed the photo he’d been staring at on top of the rest of the pile. “Looks just like what him and his boys did to Vance’s bookstore and that coffee shop Crosby tried to open up over on Eighth.”

“Thought this shit was supposed to be over?”

“So did I. Guy was like a ghost for six months, now he’s busting shit up and harassing people for money. Again. You guys need to get your shit together down here, call for Chapel and check in with the home charter more than once or twice a week. Something big might be going down and we all need to be ready for it.”

“You think this is a power play?”

“That, or he thinks we have something of his, but fucked if I know what it is. Tell you one thing, If I find out anyone in the club has been dealing with him, they are gonna be out on their ass and it ain’t gonna be pretty.”

“I feel ya, brutha, thought we were clear of this bullshit. I’m looking to bring some stability to things ‘round here, not have a shit storm stirred up.”

“I’d just got things quiet up north, and now this. Makes me wonder about some of the rumors I’ve been hearing.”

“What rumors?”

“That someone is diving off that old English wreck again, and they’ve found silver, lots of it. Thing is, no one is for sure who it is or who’s bankrolling it. You know how Santiago and his boys are, their figuring on taking a piece of the action for themselves.”

“And what, they think we’re doing it?”

“Guess we’re as likely suspects as any. You gotta come clean with me though. Are you sure, one hundred percent fuckin’ sure, that it isn’t Cain up to his old bullshit again?”

“Yeah, I am. It’s not Cain this time.”

Mark tapped his finger on the table, the sudden loud sound bringing Roscoe over to investigate. Mark huffed and quit his tapping in order to rub the big dog’s ears. “Sorry boy, didn’t mean to disturb your nap.”

Roscoe let out a woof that sounded like he didn’t believe a word Mark was saying, and wanted his ears petted more in compensation for being disturbed. Mark seemed happy enough to oblige, while still studying the pictures on the table.

“Here’s what I need you to do,” Mark said as he stopped petting Roscoe long enough to reach into his pocket and pull out a notepad and a pen, tossing them to Thorn. “Write down everyone who was involved in the wreck diving down here. Their names, their affiliations, who they might have been involved with in the past. If Santiago thinks the MC is involved then chances are a MC is involved in it, just not necessarily ours. We need to deal with him, soon and the more information we have the less bloody it might turn out to be.”

Thorn nodded and started writing down names, then sent a text to Cain, asking for any information he could provide. What he got back was a series of texts with five names and all of their affiliations, three of which Thorn has already written down, but the other two…

He grumbled a few curses as he added the first one, muttering about stupid old men who couldn’t learn lessons.

“We got a problem?”

“Maybe.”

Thorn rubbed the back of his neck until it cracked loudly, wishing Cain and his magic fingers were there to rub the tension out of them. His mind drifted to Lucky’s hands, strong and almost elegant, and he found himself wondering if he could manage a massage or two in a pinch. If he could get him to stop biting his head off long enough.

“Hey!” Mark growled, demanding Thorn’s attention.

Thorn jerked his head up, pen still pressed to the pad, ink forming a large blue dot.

“Do we have a problem or not!” Mark snapped.

“Yeah, actually, maybe we do. This one here, Simon Pascal,” Thorn explained as he tapped on the page. “He was Cain’s old diving buddy.”

“Son of a bitch, he patched in to the charter about two months ago.”

“I hate to say it, but he’s our most likely candidate for why this bullshit has started up again.”

“Ask Cain when the last time he talked to him was.”

Thorn did as he was told, texting Cain, and receiving an almost immediate response.

“He says Simon approached him about a dive roughly three weeks back, Cain declined and hasn’t heard from him since.”

Now it was Mark’s turn to go silent, his eyes shrewd and calculating as he studied the photos on the table again.

“This goes no further than you and I, not until I have a chance to dig into this further. I’m gonna head up to the clubhouse, talk to Drake and see if we can’t track down Simon, I want to see what he’s been up to. If he’s somehow gotten us back into smuggling again things aren’t going to go well for him.”

“Understood.”

“Tell Cain, if Simon contacts him about a dive again, to say yes and find out as much information as he can, then pass it along to me. Tell him do not, under any circumstances, follow through with the dive. I don’t want him back in this again.”

Thorn nodded.

Mark pointed to the mess on the table, then looked back at Thorn. “If Simon caused this, he’ll pay for the damages, and then some.”

“Insurance already covered everything.”

“Doesn’t matter, he’ll pay anyway.”

Before either could say another word, the roar of an motorcycle pulling up outside caught both of their attentions and a short time later, Lucky slipped into the house and attempted to head directly to his room.

“Hold it right there,” Thorn’s voice boomed.

***

Lucky froze, standing in the living room as Mark and Thorn approached. Sick to his stomach about what he’d done, Lucky just wanted to be away from them.

“Where did you go?”

Lucky licked his lips and considered lying, but in the end, he knew he could only hide what he’d done for so long.

“I asked you a question,” Thorn barked.

“Tattoo parlor,” Lucky blurted, eyes darting between the two men.

Mark’s eyes narrowed and he advanced on Lucky, grabbing his arm.

“Show me what you did!” Mark barked.

Lucky jerked his arm away and then yanked his t-shirt over his head with a hiss as the skin on his back pulled. He wadded the shirt up and threw it at Mark’s feet before turning around. There was plastic covering it but what was done was clearly visible. The word ‘reject’ in bold script through the middle of the tattoo, right beneath the words ‘Rollin’ Jokers.”

Mark sucked in a breath before letting loose a string of expletives.

“You know what, Lucky…” he finally said as he grabbed his jacket off the back of the couch. “Have a good life. It’s a good thing your old man isn’t here to see this, ‘cause that shit right there would kill him.”

And with that Mark stormed out of the house, slamming the door on his way out.

“I wouldn’t have had to do it if Pops and the Old Man were still alive,” Lucky said softly. He stood still as a statue, his head down.

***

From, several feet away Thorn watched him, several emotions warring inside of him.

“That was stupid,” Thorn finally remarked, unable to keep the disappointment out of his voice. “Really fuckin’ stupid.”

And with that Thorn turned and started to head to his room.

“Wait,” Lucky called out, biting his lower lip as Thorn took his time stopping and turning around. “I broke a rule.”

“Yeah, you did.”

Turning, Thorn once again headed for the stairs leading up to his room, only to have Lucky call out to him once more.

“But you didn’t punish me.”

“And I’m not going to punish you,” Thorn informed him without turning around. “I’m not your Dom, remember? You don’t want a relationship with me and Cain, you want to make enough money to leave, so why should I punish you? Punishment is something I would give to a sub, my sub who wanted to please me after he’d messed up. What do you want, Lucky? Do you even know?”

Blinking, Lucky stood there looking stunned.

Thorn shook his head and started climbing the steps.

“Please.”

Pausing, Thorn tapped his fingers on the railing several times before answering. “Tell me why I should punish you.”

“Because I left without permission and went somewhere without telling you.”

“Now…tell me why I should care?”

***

Lucky gasped, tears prickling his eyes as he watched Thorn continue his walk up the steps and disappear into his room, leaving Lucky alone with Roscoe. Cold dread filled the pit of his stomach as he picked up his t-shirt and trudged to his room. Sprawling flat on his stomach on the bed, Lucky had never felt so alone.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

At least work was a place where Lucky was coming to excel. Even Thorn doled out words of praise at his designs. It was funny, but he was coming to value those words even more than the praise that Cain heaped on him, maybe because it was harder to earn coming from Thorn.

The evenings, however, sucked. He and Thorn shared duties around the house, but meals were silent save for Thorn’s thoughts on future designs and after meals, Lucky walked Roscoe and watched movies with him, going virtually ignored by Thorn.

As much as he tried to tell himself it was what he wanted, that the last thing he needed was to form an attachment to anyone, the silence and isolation was grating on his nerves. Twice now he’d almost gone to the study, knocked on the door, and asked Thorn to play cards with him or watch a movie, but fear of rejection always stopped him. Those eyes always seemed so cold, so full of distance and disinterest, that in the end, Lucky opted for Roscoe’s quiet acceptance, tail wags and face licks. He was just about to settle in with a slasher flick when the doorbell rang, followed by insistent knocking.

Roscoe woofed loudly and Thorn bellowed at Lucky, “Answer it, damn it!”

Lucky scrambled to do so. When he yanked open the door, he found Cody on the other side and he looked pissed.

“You fucking bastard!” Cody snarled as he grabbed Lucky by the front of his shirt and hauled him outside.

Lucky shoved him hard and Cody answered back with a punch to the mouth. Lucky staggered back, hitting the side of the house, then charged, spearing Cody and sending him over the railing, both of them crashing into the bushes below. Wild punches were thrown, with few landing, before they shoved away from one another, glaring, chests heaving.

“What the fuck is your problem,” Lucky yelled, then spit out a mouthful of blood.

“You…you shit. You stupid fucking idiot. Why the fuck did you leave the club!”

“Could be because I was kicked out!”

“Suspended! For insubordination, dammit, which is not the same thing. Now, you’re out and I’m not even supposed to be here. None of us are supposed to have anything to do with you. Ever. You just cost me my best friend.”

“Your old man cost you your best friend, not me. I didn’t ask him to suspend me.”

“You practically begged him to do something with all the shit you kept getting into. Fucking hell, Lucky, you and me, I…we could have made it work if you would have settled down and quit getting into fights and stirring up trouble.”

“You were my friend and we fucked when we felt like it, but there wasn’t ever gonna be anything more,” Lucky said.

“And you went and made sure of that, didn’t you!”

“Just fuck off.”

“Yeah, fine, be a dickhead. Pops said you didn’t give a shit about anything anymore, so I don’t know why I bothered coming here.”

“What the fuck am I supposed to care about, Cody? Everything that fuckin’ mattered is gone, but then you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you? You’ve still got your folks and you’ve got Teddy and now you’ve got Wreck too. You’ve got everyone that ever fuckin’ mattered to you!”

Cody answered with a hard left cross that caught Lucky on the cheek.

“Not everyone, you bastard!” Cody yelled, “I don’t have you!”

For a moment, the pair just knelt there, staring at one another, breathing hard, fists clenched like they were about to completely go off on one another, again.

“Time for you to go,” Thorn said to Cody from where he stood in the doorway, having watched the whole thing unfold.

“Fine,” Cody snapped bitterly, then turned back to look at Lucky one more time and spat in his direction. “I fuckin’ hate you.”

“Right back at ya,” Lucky snarled as Cody climbed to his feet and walked away. Lucky watched him get on his bike, fire it up, then flip him the bird before roaring away without a backwards glance. He was shocked to find his vision growing blurry as lines of cold tears slid down his cheeks.

***

Thorn touched his arm, gentle at first, until Lucky turned toward him, panic in his eyes, then Thorn closed his fingers tight around Lucky’s arm, holding on to him so he couldn’t run away.

“Breathe slow,” Thorn ordered when he heard Lucky start to hyperventilate. Lucky blinked and struggled to focus on Thorn’s words as the older man drew him closer, intending to maneuver him into the house. He was shocked when Lucky threw his arms around him, buried his face in his chest and began to sob.

Thorn held him tight, one hand pressed to Lucky’s back, the other to the back of his head, and just let him cry until Lucky slumped against him, forcing Thorn to carry most of his weight, not like it was difficult, Lucky was still way too skinny, at least to Thorn’s way of thinking. Lucky’s whimper pierced Thorn’s heart and he wanted to pop Cody in the mouth just for having stopped by.

Grumbling, Thorn hefted Lucky up into his arms and carried him into the house, kicking the door shut behind him. He carried Lucky to the couch and sat with him still held close, settling back so Lucky half-reclined on top of him. Carding his fingers through Lucky’s hair he listened to him sniffle and hiccup a little before finally settling down. It was oddly endearing the way he clung and burrowed closer like he was trying to meld himself with Thorn somehow.

Thorn gruffly carded his fingers through Lucky’s hair, petting it gently, finally coming to understand some of the vulnerability Cain had seen in him.

“Talk to me?” Thorn encouraged gently. It went against every fiber of his being to ask rather than demand, but instinct told him that Lucky would balk at even the smallest hint of authority right now and the tender moment would morph into a knock-down, drag-out fight.

“I miss my Pops and my Old Man,” Lucky said softly. “I miss them both so damn much. Why the fuck did Pops have to do that? At least when he was there I didn’t feel like I was all alone.”

“I don’t get it, Lucky. You had the club. You were never alone. Any of them would have done anything in their power to help you.”

“How?”

“However you needed, if you’d just been honest and told them what it was. God, I know Mark was desperate to figure out a way to help you. Why did you throw it back in his face?”

“’Cause he couldn’t know. He couldn’t fix it anyway and…I didn’t need them to pity me and pull some bodyguard shit. I was the one who was stupid, I deserved everything I got.”

“And what did you get? What happened, Lucky?”

“I fucked up.”

“I get that,” Thorn said, trying not to allow his impatience to show. “How did you fuck up?”

“I shouldn’t have…I just…I should have stayed home, you know? Should have gotten drunk and just passed out in my bed.”

“But you didn’t.”

“Nope.”

“So what did you do?”

“I broke a rule,” Lucky admitted, his fingers closed around the fabric of Thorn’s shirt and Thorn could feel him start to shiver. Reaching for the back of the couch, Thorn snagged the old blanket with its howling wolf print and pulled it over Lucky. Carding his fingers through Lucky’s hair, he tried to patiently wait for Lucky to continue.

“Mark said that none of us younger guys were supposed to go to either of the other two dungeons without an older guy with us, specifically a Dom, even if they had a collar on, just ‘cause there were people who went to them who had a past history with the MC. You know how it goes. He figured they might take it as a chance to get back at the MC by hurting one of us.”

“Let me guess, you went anyway?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“I needed to feel…something…that wasn’t anger or grief. I just wanted to forget for a night that the Old Man was dead. I wanted to forget how he looked when he was dying. I wanted to forget that my Pops hardly spoke to me anymore or that he was starting to look like a ghost. I know I should have gone to Mark or any Dom in the MC, but I didn’t want any of them to see how fucked up I’d let shit get. How lost in my own head I was. I walked around acting like I had my shit together, but…”

He sighed and shifted around a little, until his head was right over Thorn’s heart.

“The Old Man made me promise to take care of Ray, to be strong, grow-up, stop going off half-cocked and start acting like I had a brain in my head. He wanted me to learn how to problem solve before I fucked up, instead of fucking up and having to figure a way out of it. I did a shit job of all of that. I was fucking everything up and I didn’t want anyone to see it.”

“Were you fucking up, or were you lashing out because you were angry?” Thorn asked gently.

Lucky shrugged. “I don’t know, both maybe. In my head I was screaming about how unfair it was that it happened to him. How some fuckin’ disease could take the strongest man I knew and just wither him away.”

“How long was he sick?”

“Almost a year. It was stage three when they found it. They tried chemo, they tried radiation, but all it did was make his hair fall out and make it so he could hardly eat anything. Then it spread, and in the end he just wanted to be at home with me and Pops.

“Shit,” Thorn muttered, stroking Lucky’s hair.

“Some days were good days, him and Pops would talk about the old days and tells stories and we’d laugh and it wouldn’t seem as real that he was dying. When he was feeling really good we’d have a barbeque and he’d run the grill the same way he always had and we’d shoot off fireworks on beach. Those were the nights when he’d pull out his old guitar and play a song or two. His voice was shot so he’d make me and Pops sing and it would feel normal again.”

***

Sniffing, Lucky couldn’t help the tears that had once again begun to fall and soak Thorn’s shirt. He wanted to feel ashamed for laying on the gruff old biker the way he was, crying like a little kid and wanting to be hugged, but it hurt too much right now to worry about shame or regret.

“Bad day’s though…” Lucky finally continued, having a hard time breathing around the lump in his chest to get the words out. “He…he couldn’t get out of bed. Me and Pops would take turns reading to him when he wasn’t sleeping, or we’d watch old hot rod movies with him, he always loved those old drag race and biker movies.”

“I’m pretty partial to them myself,” Thorn admitted.

“I like them too. I grew up with them,” Lucky said fondly before growing quiet again.

Thorn brushed Lucky’s hair back from the side of his face and gently caressed his cheek.

“The um, the…” Lucky had to stop, his breathing was ragged, he knew he was starting to shake again and he wanted to stop talking, stop thinking, stop feeling, just to escape the memory.

“Slow breaths, easy,” Thorn murmured, stroking his back. “Just focus on breathing for a moment, then you can tell me the rest.”

Lucky nodded and did as he was told, he just breathed, inhaling the scent that was uniquely Thorn. It reminded him of campfires and the woods.

“He knew it was time,” Lucky said softly, letting out a slow, shaky breath before he continued on. “The night he died he knew it was gonna happen. He was so weak at that point he could barely speak, but he asked us to build a bonfire on the beach and carry him down there. Pops didn’t want to, he was afraid the Old Man would catch a cold and the Old Man he just kind of laughed this hacking laugh and whispered that he didn’t have time for that shit. Then he looked at me, begged me to listen to him, so I did what he said. I went to the beach and I gathered up driftwood and I made a bonfire and then I went back into the house and down the hall to his room. Pops was trying to get him to let him call an ambulance, but the Old Man didn’t want any part of it. I stood there in the doorway, torn over who to listen to, because Pops had looked at me and told me not to, and it sounded like he was begging too. But when I looked at my Old Man, I just, I couldn’t not listen. I went in and I picked him up and I carried him out to the sand, and Pops followed. Some of the guys, they tried to follow too, but Mark made them back off, even he stayed away. Me and Pops we…we held him in our arms until he passed away out there on the beach in front of the bonfire with the damned seagulls he was always threatening to shoot.”

Lucky swallowed hard, his words jerky, his voice thick with sorrow.

“Pops…he freaked, he…yelled at me that it was my fault, that I shouldn’t have brought him out there, that we should have taken him to that hospital, that maybe there was some new drug…”

“Bullshit! Fuck, Lucky, you honored his last wish, you let him have the final moment he wanted. Do you really think he would have been at peace in some hospital bed?”

“No,” Lucky admitted softly, “and Pops knew that too. He apologized, later, but…I never stopped wondering if he hated me for it.”

“Is that why you didn’t want to go to the memorial?”

“No. I just didn’t want to sit around the bonfire alone remembering the last time the three of us were together.”

“But you wouldn’t have been alone.”

“I know, but even surrounded by people I’ve known all my life, there are still times when I just feel alone, especially after Pops. I…failed. I didn’t see it coming. I should have realized…”

“Not if he didn’t let you see,” Thorn explained. “Lucky, you are not responsible for what Ray did to himself and I’m not saying this to piss you off, but it was pretty damned selfish of him.”

“But my Old Man said…”

“Doesn’t matter,” Thorn interrupted. “Yes, he wanted you to look after your Pops, and I’m sure he expected Ray to look after you, but in the end we can only do for someone as much as they’ll let us.”

“I guess…”

“No, there’s no guessing, that’s a fact. You couldn’t have babysat him twenty-four hours a day.”

“Then why are you trying to do it to me?”

Thorn exhaled loudly, his hand stilling on the back of Lucky’s head.

“Because letting you hurt yourself would be a horrible waste of talent, creativity and uniqueness. There’s only one you, Lucky, and if you won’t cherish yourself then damn it, Cain and I are determined to do it for you.”

“Why?”

“Until you can see some value in yourself you’ll never understand the answer to that question,” Thorn explained. ‘But there is something I still don’t understand.”

“What?”

“You never explained what happened when you went to the dungeon that Mark had told you not to go to.”

“Oh,” Lucky said softly.

Instead of prodding him further, Thorn simply resumed stroking Lucky’s back until he began speaking again.

“The first time I went, I met a guy who wanted to play and he was willing to give me what I needed. He took me away from everything, just made it melt away in a haze of pleasure. After, he held me on his lap for the rest of the night, talking to me about stuff I can’t even remember, but the sound of his voice kept me floating and relaxed and when he said he wanted to see me again I couldn’t resist going back.”

“Okay, and I’m guessing he knew who you were affiliated with?”

“I didn’t tell him, but I know he saw my tattoo. I just didn’t really think about it until everything went to hell. I went back a few nights later and I kept going back and after the fourth time we weren’t meeting at the dungeon anymore, we were meeting at his place.”

“Wait,” Thorn said, scowling when Lucky gazed up at him curiously. “I thought you said you’d never been in a relationship.”

“It wasn’t a relationship, it was just sex, we never went anywhere together or did anything that didn’t end up with us fucking. I wanted to, and when I was with him I didn’t go back to Joker’s Wild and I wasn’t with anyone else outside of there either. I just wanted to be with him.”

But he didn’t want the same thing?” Thorn asked shocked at the pain in Lucky’s voice.

“Yeah, stupid huh, I um, actually thought I was gonna be his, like, for good, but I made the mistake of mentioning it and he just blew me off, which was pretty much the first red flag.”

“And the second?”

“I found the camera he’d been using to film us fucking.”

“What!” Thorn roared, half sitting up, only Lucky’s inert form prevented him from coming up off the couch.

“I…” Lucky stammered, a little scared of continuing.

Thorn must have realized that he was making Lucky uncomfortable because he visibly forced himself to relax. “It’s okay,” Thorn encouraged, “It’s not you I’m pissed at.”

“He laughed when I asked him about it. I never questioned why he always positioned me a certain way, I just figured it was part of the scene, like the leather mask he wore. It was kinda hot anyway. It turned out he just didn’t want anyone to recognize him. He was making copies of the videos, lots of copies and selling them.

Thorn’s hands gripped Lucky so tight that the smaller man began to squirm and try to get away.

“What is his name?” Thorn growled, his grip just becoming even more punishing.

“What difference does it make? It was months ago and it was my own fuckin’ fault anyway.

Thorn sucked in a deep breath. “Did you care about this guy?”

Lucky nodded. “Yeah, like I said, pretty fuckin’ stupid.”

“No, not stupid. Did you tell that bastard how you felt?”

“Yeah, okay, I ran the complete gambit of stupid. I broke the rules by going there, I got attached to someone I hid from the MC, I was too dumb to realize I was being filmed and after I found out, I beat the hell outta him and ended up getting arrested.”

“And of course, you kept quiet about why you’d stomped the fuck outta him, both to the cops and to the club?”

“Hell yeah, I ain’t no rat.”

“You could have told your Pops.”

“And have him be even more disappointed and disgusted with me? Plus he would have told Mark and it wasn’t something I wanted him knowing about.”

“Pride’s a good thing to have, when it’s not to the point of foolishness. You’re young, you made a mistake and not the ones you think.”

“What do you mean?”

“It wasn’t wrong to trust someone, or to get attached or even to want attachment, hell there’s never anything wrong with wanting more than what you’ve been offered in the past, your mistake was in hiding your mistake in the first place.”

“Look, all the guys in the MC are great, but I knew how they’d react, and they would have made it worse by going after him. I didn’t want anyone doing time just ‘cause of me.”

“Would have been their choice what they did to him, just like it was his choice to lie to you and manipulate you into doing porn.”

“It wasn’t meant to be porn.”

“But that’s what he turned it into,” Thorn pointed out.

“Yeah,” Lucky said softly.

“Did you think he was gonna collar you, was that what you were looking to find?”

It took a minute before Lucky would admit the truth. “Yeah, I did. The guys in the MC are awesome, but outside of Cody I never felt anything more with them than pleasure and brotherhood. It would have been weird to have one of them as my Dom.”

“But that guy you met, you felt something different for him, was that the first time you’d felt that way about someone.”

“You know how dungeons work, it’s mostly regulars, couples really, who come to play and maybe even pick up third, but every now and again guests are allowed, usually friends of Mark’s or one of the other senior guys.”

“Yeah, Cain and I have been there many times ourselves.”

“Well, I like to feel, just feel, nothing else. There were some guys who used to visit, they really took it to another level with me, would chain me down, make me fly higher than I ever had before. I didn’t know them, never got to see them, just, you know, but they made everything different. I would have loved to be their sub, but I was just a toy to them.”

***

Thorn’s jaw clenched to hear him say that, but he didn’t trust the outcome of telling Lucky the truth right now.

“So how did you negotiate?”

“I didn’t have to with them, or with anyone that Mark suggested I spend time with. He always asked what I was in the mood for, and I trusted him to find what I need.”

“Then why did you stop trusting him?”

“Because I couldn’t trust my own judgement anymore and I started feeling stupid for getting attached to people just ‘cause they made me feel good.”

“Which is when you started fucking around,” Thorn muttered, beginning to put the pieces together as he wondered how Lucky was going to handle finding out that Cain and Thorn had been the two men who’d been with him when his senses had been limited.

“Was easier that way,” Lucky said softly.

“I guess I can see why you’d think that, but what you’ve done, cutting yourself off from the MC, that was just selfish and petty and spiteful. Those guys were your family, Lucky, the same as Sidewinder and Ray, and you just tossed all of that aside. I’m sure Cody isn’t the only one pissed off or hurt over it.”

“I know,” Lucky admitted sadly. “I was just pissed that he was pawning me off on you guys.”

“Lucky, Mark didn’t pawn you off on us, do you really think Mark could have forced us, or even bribed us, into taking you into our home if we didn’t want you here?”

Lucky fell silent, then sort of shrugged. “Figured he offered you something you couldn’t refuse.”

“No, he gave us what we asked for, a chance to finally get to know you.”

“Huh?”

Thorn chuckled, but the sound was almost bitter. “Go to sleep, Lucky, shit will still be fucked up in the morning and I’d rather explain everything when Cain’s here.”

“Explain what?”

“Tomorrow, Lucky,” Thorn insisted, “Don’t think either of us can handle anymore tonight.”

“Yes…Sir,” Lucky muttered.

Thorn couldn’t help but chuckle at the little touch of belligerence in Lucky’s tone. Worse part of it was he was going to be doing both his and Cain’s share of the chores for the next month. Damn him for not listening to Cain or Mark when they’d tried to tell him he was handling everything wrong. They’d been right, he should have been upfront with Lucky right from the start. Now, everything had seriously gotten complicated and way out of control. Thorn’s last thought before he fell asleep was that he hoped Cain didn’t rub it in too much when Lucky refused to forgive him. He hated eating crow.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

“Hey, having a slumber party?”

Thorn jerked awake, startled to see Cain leaning over him, inches from his face. Lucky’s weight still pressed him to the couch cushions and his bladder was full as hell. Reaching up, he gave Lucky a gentle shake, but the younger man just muttered something and tried to roll over. Thorn groaned, trying to wiggle out from beneath him.

“Yesterday was a bad day,” Thorn said as he got his other arm free of the tangle of Lucky and the blanket. “You were right, we should have told him from the beginning that we’d been with him at the dungeon and that we’d had our eye on him for a while now. I promised we’d explain everything once you were back, but right now, I just really gotta take a piss.”

“What the hell happened?” Cain whispered, trying not to wake Lucky.

“Look at his back and while you’re at it, roll him off me, gotta go here!”

***

Cain lifted the blanket and moved it out of the way, then peeled up the back of Lucky’s t-shirt, hissing when he saw the word ‘reject’ scrawled through the beautiful ink.

“Shit,” Cain rolled his eyes up to look at Thorn. “Tell me Mark hasn’t heard about this.”

“Worse, he’s seen it. He was here the night Lucky got it done, hell Lucky did it just to spite him now get him offa me.”

Cain chuckled and managed to maneuver Lucky off of Thorn and onto the floor into a sleepy heap, giving Thorn the chance to leap from the couch and shamble off to the bathroom as quickly as his sore and cramped limbs would allow. By the time he returned to the living room, he found that Lucky had managed to wind his way around Cain and was still trying to sleep.

“Do I have to ask how bad things went over with Mark, it couldn’t have been a good scene.”

“No, not at all, Lucky is out of the Rollin’ Jokers, Mark’s completely washed his hands of him. Cody showed up pissed off and the two got in a fight on the lawn, I’m pretty sure they busted up a shrub pretty good.”

“Yeah, I saw that, I thought it was you two that did it,” Cain admitted. “Guess that’s where the bruises on his back come from.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, I told you I wouldn’t get into it with him while you were gone, and I didn’t. Shit with Cody just made everything harder for Lucky to deal with, and he had a bit of a meltdown. To top it off, I found out that some scumbag recorded tapes of him and Lucky together and had been selling them all over the net.”

“What!” Cain bellowed, startling Lucky who jerked awake, sitting up and nearly smacking his head on Cain’s chin in the process. He looked between the two men and struggled to understand what the hell was going on.

“Easy,” Thorn said as he took a knee beside him, stroking Lucky’s back and hair until the tension drained out of him.

“Why don’t I make us all some breakfast and then we can talk?”

“Yeah,” Thorn agreed.

“You two go grab a shower and Thorn…”

“Yeah?”

“You owe me fifty bucks and a month of housework.”

“Fucker,” Thorn groaned as Lucky slowly picked himself up off the ground and headed for his room.

Cain caught Thorn’s arm and drew him into a hug. “Thank you for looking out for him. I was beginning to think you’d given up on him.”

“I misjudged him, and worse, I refused to listen when you tried to explain what I was doing wrong. Yeah, he was being defiant, I think I’d have been defiant too if I’d dealt with the shit he’s had to put up with this past year.”

“But…”

Thorn rubbed the back of his neck.

“No buts, not this time. I fucked up, I know I need to fix it.”

“Good,” Cain said, before finally letting him go.

“I do think he’s still hiding something, though.”

“Thorn, do not push it.”

“No promises,” Thorn said as he headed for their bedroom.

“Joy,” Cain groaned as he headed to the kitchen and checked the contents of the fridge, pulled out some ground sausage and tossed it in a pan while he popped open a tube of canned biscuits and dropped them on a baking sheet. A little milk and powdered country gravy mix and breakfast was soon done.

A shy and uncertain Lucky emerged first, his brilliant blue eyes looking around almost cautiously. It was clear that he was nervous and something in the way he moved gave Cain cause for worry. Thorn was right, Lucky was still hiding something from them. Well it was time to get all of the secrets out in the open and get on with living their lives, preferably together.

Plopping the plates of food down on the table, Cain moved to hug Lucky, shocked when he flinched at the contact.

“Lucky?” Cain demanded, barely able to keep his tone even. “How bad did that fight with Cody get?”

“I’m fine, Cody hits like a bitch,” Lucky replied refusing to look at him.

“What did I tell you about lying to me?”

“Not to, Sir.”

“Then start telling the truth,” Cain instructed, arms crossed as he leaned against the counter.

“The truth about what?” Thorn asked, as he emerged in just jeans while still towel drying his hair.

Lucky glanced between the two, then hung his head.

“Spit it out so we can eat,” Thorn said, slipping back into the use of his harsher tone.

“I had a run in with Santiago and his buddies, Sir,” Lucky finally admitted. “The day I didn’t come back for lunch. It was nothing I couldn’t handle.”

“Did we ask if you could handle it? What kind of damage did they do?” Cain asked.

“It’s fine, Sir,” Lucky replied even as his hands moved, automatically to the hem of his shirt.

“It’s not fine if you flinched when I went to touch you.”

“Was just surprised is all.”

“Over a hug?”

“You caught me off guard,” Lucky protested.

“You shouldn’t need to be on guard around us, we haven’t done anything to you to warrant it, and you didn’t jerk like someone who gets scared would jerk, you flinched, like I’d touched someplace that hurt you, so quit trying to lie to us and show me what they did.”

Lucky peeled the shirt off immediately and they could see the still fading remains of bruises on his chest, torso and left shoulder.

***

Thorn wondered how he could have possibly been comfortable laying on him all night with those kind of bruises, though as emotionally exhausted as he was, that likely explained it.

“How many of them were there?”

“Three,” Lucky said, “And I gave as good as I got, so don’t worry about it.”

“Well, we are going to worry about it ‘cause their beef is with us, not you, so you best believe they’ll be hearing from both of us soon.”

Lucky sighed and pulled his shirt back on. “I wasn’t trying to cause any trouble.”

“No one said you caused anything, now eat your damn food before it gets cold,” Thorn ordered, pissed that Santiago had put his hands on Lucky and pissed that Lucky hadn’t said anything and had allowed them to believe that he had callously broken a rule.

***

Lucky sat and ate like he’d been told, hoping like hell they didn’t go after Santiago. The last thing he wanted was either one of them getting hurt because of him. Maybe nothing would come of it before he could deal with it, then maybe they would see that he was capable of getting payback all on his own.

“Lucky, you done or are you gonna push that piece of biscuit around ‘til it’s nothing but crumbs?”

Lucky blinked, then looked down at the mess he was shoving around his plate. “Yeah, I’m done,” he said softly and stood, heading to the kitchen to wash it. When they’d all finished cleaning their dishes, Cain led them to the living room and urged Lucky to sit in the easy chair opposite the couch, so they could see one another as they talked.

He did as he’d been asked, glancing between them as Cain laced his fingers with Thorn’s. It sent a pang of envy through Lucky. He envied them that and every other little caress and touch he’d seen them exchange in the weeks since he’d come to stay with them.

***

“First off, the thing you need to understand,” Thorn began, “is that Cain wanted to tell you the truth right from the beginning. I, on the other hand, wanted to make sure you followed instructions as good outside of the dungeon as you do in it.”

Lucky’s eyebrows drew together into a deep scowl. “How would you know what I’m like in the dungeon? I choose to obey there ‘cause it’s easy, I can let someone else deal with reality for a change. Out here, I do what I want…” Lucky snapped.

“And make a whole lot of shit choices in the process,” Thorn reminded him.

“Yeah, there is that,” Lucky admitted, deflating just a little bit as a sheepish look spread across his face.

“What Thorn’s trying to explain,” Cain interjected calmly, “is that we were with you at the dungeon many times, of course you were always blindfolded and had those damned ear plugs in, but you responded so well to touch and non-verbal cues that we just kept coming back to spend more time with you until we decided that we wanted you here with us permanently.”

Lucky’s face had paled at first, but by the time Cain was done speaking, he was flushed with anger, fists clenched at his sides, eyes glaring at Thorn.

“So last night, when I was telling you all that shit, that’s what you made me wait to hear?”

“I wanted us to tell you together,” Thorn reasoned.

“You should have fuckin’ told me the night I got here!” Lucky yelled, coming up out of the chair. “FUCK!”

“Lucky, just, sit down a minute so we can…”

“No…Sir!” Lucky bit out, interrupting Cain even as his eyes never left Thorn’s. “I need a fuckin’ cigarette,” Lucky snarled. “With your permission, Sir, I’m going to the store to get a pack.”

Thorn opened his mouth to object, afraid Lucky was going to run away, but Cain dug an elbow into his ribs hard enough to make Thorn grunt.

“Okay, Lucky,” Cain said. “But please come right back.”

“Yeah,” Lucky said, nodding. “I will, Sir.”

With one last glare at Thorn, Lucky headed out into the bright but chilly morning. The store was just a few blocks away, he knew he should grab a jacket, regardless, but there was no way in hell he was going back in there until he’d at least smoked three.

Three turned into four by the time he’d walked back to the house. He wasn’t sure how the hell he was supposed to take what they’d said. What they’d done. They’d…wanted him, it was difficult wrapping his thoughts around the fact that they were the ones who’d take him apart so effortlessly, then held him safe between them until he’d felt sane and whole again.

If only they’d told him that night at the bonfire, he’d have been happy to pack his shit and follow them and with no hard feelings between him and Mark either. Fuck, Lucky groaned, breathing out a long stream of smoke. They wanted him, but they’d tricked him, and it had cost him big, how was he supposed to forgive that, or even understand why it had been necessary to test him before telling him the truth.

If they’d told him who they were he’d have followed every rule, done everything he could to try and earn a permanent place with them. But believing them to be strangers, he’d been hesitant to give them his trust, knowing how easily he’d gotten burned the last time. Funny, how in the end he’d just gotten burned again, didn’t seem to matter what he did, he was destined to get screwed.

And that was the part that was really fucking with his head right now, ‘cause how was he supposed to go back in there and face them? How was he supposed to believe anything they said or did from here on out. Had it all just been a game to them? Was it still a game?

Those moments with them in the dungeon had carried him through days of worry, grief and self-loathing, and he’d always hated when reality had crashed back down on him, leaving him feeling alone and empty again, at least until the next time they’d come back.

He just, never knew when they would come back, sometimes weeks passed and occasionally an entire month or more. It got to be too long, the waiting, which was when he finally broke down and went to one of the other dungeons.

He closed his eyes and banged his head against the wall behind him.

Why did shit have to be so complicated? Why the fuck couldn’t people just say what they meant and truly mean it? He wished he could talk to his Pops or his Old Man, wished for even Cody to talk to, then laughed a little, ‘cause he was even desperate enough to talk to Mark at this point, if he hadn’t burned that bridge too.

A hand slid up his arm and Lucky’s eyes snapped open. He locked eyes with Cain and his eyes widened a bit at the heated look the big man was giving him.

“Give us a chance to show you how much you’re wanted,” Cain insisted.

“No,” Lucky said softly, “I’ll give you a chance, but only you, Sir.”

Sighing, Cain stepped further into Lucky’s space, crowding him against the side of the house.

“He never meant to piss you off.”

“Yeah, right, somehow I don’t think pissing me off was ever anything that he’d be worried about, Sir.”

“He’s…sorry.”

“Now whose lying,” Lucky shot back, bitterness creeping into his voice even as he reached out a hand and placed it firmly on the center of Cain’s chest. “He’d do the same thing again, and still expect a different result.”

“Okay, so maybe he can be a bit stubborn sometimes.”

“He’s a god damned mule headed bastard, sir,” Lucky declared.

Cain threw his head back and laughed, and even Lucky had to smirk a little.

“Diplomacy and conversation have never been his strong suits, he makes decisions and just expects everything and everyone to fall into place with his plans.”

“And if they don’t?”

“Then he tries to run roughshod over them like a rampaging elephant. It isn’t a pretty sight.”

“And if that fails?”

Cain bit his bottom lip, amusement crinkling the skin around his eyes. “Funny thing, that, I’ve never seen it fail yet.”

“Consider this the first time, then, Sir,” Lucky said stubbornly.

***

Cain smacked a hand over his eyes and drew it down slowly, a low groan escaping him. “You two are gonna be the death of me.”

“Maybe, Sir” Lucky said, while reaching into the pocket of his jeans for his smokes. He fished out another cigarette and lit it up.

“When did you start that shit?”

“When I was fourteen,” Lucky admitted. “I was forever snagging a few outta my Pop’s pack. I’ve been trying to quit though, thought I had quit, really, until today. I might smoke this whole pack before I go back in.”

“That’s fine, as long as you come back in.”

“I will. I’m just pissed right now and I’m having a hard time deciding what’s upsetting me more. The fact that he didn’t want me to know the truth or the fact that he let me feel like you guys were just helping me outta pity. Actually, I think it’s the second one, but not by much.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Cain conceded as he watched Lucky’s posture ease up a bit.

“I just…”

Lucky gazed at Cain with such pain and longing in his eyes that Cain reached out and plucked the cigarette from Lucky’s lips, then tossed it away so he could pull Lucky into a hug.

“Can we just start all over?” Cain asked. “God, all I’ve wanted since you got here was to have you in our room, in our bed each night and working side by side with us in the shop each day. If you’ve ever even thought about it, even a little, say yes, and we can put all this bullshit behind us.”

Sighing, Lucky ran his fingers through his hair as he pulled away.

“I want you both, but I’m too pissed at him right now to let him touch me,” Lucky admitted honestly.

“And I can’t touch you the way I want until you stop being pissed at him,” Cain groaned.

“Pretty much,” Lucky said as he leaned back against the house again. “Just give me some time.”

“Like I have much choice.”

“No, you don’t, Sir,” Lucky replied as a dejected Cain turned to head in. “But...”

Hearing that, Cain turned back around to face him.

“This changes everything,” Lucky admitted. “There’s way more to think about now…and way more reason to stay.”

Cain couldn’t help but smile at hearing that. It gave him hope that Lucky would forgive Thorn sooner rather than later.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Lucky glanced up as Cain stepped into his workroom, a few lingering fiberglass shavings clinging to his clothes. Lucky could only assume that they’d fallen off the freshly shaped board he carried, as Cain always wore a respirator and full body suit when he was working. He put one last line of brown strips on the deep sea angler fish he was painting. The green-brown body and long, pointy fangs coupled with the milky white of the eyes had come together to create a terrifyingly realistic image. Now that he had the large one done, he planned to go about adding a few smaller ones in the background.

Turning off his airbrush he took off his mask and goggles, cracked his neck, then turned his full attention toward Cain.

“I’ve got the new board ready,” Cain remarked as he placed it in the rack above the work bench and stepped over to the sawhorses that held the board Lucky was currently working on. “This one is looking good so far.”

“Thanks, I’ve got to add his little dangly bait thing, and then the smaller ones, but those will be pretty easy.”

“Can I suggest one larger one to tie them all together, just the full facial view of it with its jaws open wide and those eyes staring forward?”

Lucky stepped around the board to look at it from Cain’s point of view. He already had the smaller fish lightly sketched in, but as he stood shoulder to shoulder with Cain, he could see exactly where he could fit one large, scary, gaping maw and all of those sharp, pointy teeth.

“I like it,” Lucky remarked as he pulled the pencil from behind his ear and started making little ticks to mark dimensions. “This is gonna be sick.”

“You’ve been kicking ass on these.”

“Thanks.”

Cain slid his arm around Lucky and pulled him close. “No. Thank you.”

Lucky tilted his head back and licked his upper lip as he reached up to pull Cain down into a kiss. His hand slid to the back of Cain’s neck as he pressed his body closer, growing bolder as he deepened the kiss. He felt Cain growl against his mouth, his hand sliding down Lucky’s back, gripping him tightly.

“Am I interrupting something?” Thorn growled from the doorway, drawing both of their attention toward him.

“Yeah, five minute break,” Lucky muttered soft enough that only Cain could hear. The older man chuckled and kissed the top of Lucky’s head.

“Wanted to see what you guys wanted for lunch, but it looks like that questions been answered.”

Lucky glanced toward the door and shivered at the sight of Thorn’s rigid posture, the scowl on his face and the way his arms were crossed over his chest. His eyes seemed to be boring a hole straight through Lucky, who couldn’t help but squirm beneath his gaze and lick his lips. Thorn looked menacing, his eyes dark and filled with hidden promises, smoldering in a way that made Lucky long to go to his knees, crawl across the room, and rub his face over Thorn’s jean covered crotch.

“Could go for some of that leftover spaghetti,” Cain replied, his hand still pressed firmly to the small of Lucky’s back.

Lucky nodded. “Yeah, especially if we remembered the garlic bread this time.”

Thorn huffed, his scowl growing deeper. “We did. Fine, spaghetti it is,” he grumbled before turning and heading out the door. He didn’t slam it, but he sure closed it way harder than he needed to.

“Is that your goal?” Cain asked as he drew away from Lucky. “Are you trying to make him jealous?”

“Why would I care if he’s jealous or not?”

“’Cause you go out of your way to antagonize him even while you’re more than willing to play nice with me. Is that all we are to you, Lucky, a game?”

“I like you,” Lucky admitted. “I like kissing you, I like dancing with you, I like it when you touch me. Kinda wish we could do more, but I get it, you don’t want to fuck me.”

“You’re right, I don’t. I want to take you to bed with me and Thorn. I want to worship you all night long and tell you how I really feel about you and have you actually believe me. But you’re still not ready for any of it.”

Lucky moved away, retrieving his goggles and mask again. “Why do you want to make it so complicated?”

Cain followed him, tugging the items from Lucky’s hands and putting them back down on the bench again. “It’s not as complicated as you think. We’ve made the offer. All you have to do is accept it, accept us, both of us.”

“He’s…” Lucky’s words failed him. Thorn was gruff, he was intense and demanding, he was also hot as hell and his words had a way of making the hair on the back of his neck prickle and his body hum with desire.

“What?” Cain prompted.

“Intense,” Lucky muttered lamely, prompting a chuckle from Cain.

“Yeah. He is. It’s part of the charm.”

Lucky managed a small smile, then went up on tiptoes, seeking another kiss from Cain, who reluctantly gave it to him.

“I wanted to crawl to him,” Lucky admitted. “I wanted to beg him to touch me.”

“Fuckin’ hell, Lucky, I wish you had. He would have. He wants you,” Cain explained. “He’s sorry.”

“It would help if he said it. I want to blow you later,” Lucky murmured as he drew back, “please let me.”

Cain groaned, and Lucky could see the conflict warring in his eyes. Feeling a bit brave, he ran his fingertips up Cain’s left leg, then brushed his palm over the bulge in Cain’s jeans, bringing another groan from him.

“Please,” Lucky asked as he lightly caressed him again.

“Fuuucccck,” Cain growled as he covered Lucky’s hand with his own and rubbed his denim covered cock a bit more aggressively with it. “Feel what you do to me. How am I supposed to say no?”

***

The conversation at the supper table that night was all focused on a new exhibit opening at the museum downtown where relics from an old English shipwreck were set to be revealed. Thorn had peppered him with questions about the site, even as Cain insisted time and time again that he’d never dived it, never seen it and wasn’t entirely certain where it might be located.

Every now and again he cast a glance over at the silent Lucky, who sipped his beer while he doodled on the pad beside him. Cain wasn’t certain, but it looked like a sting ray or a manta taking shape.

“It’s rude to draw at the table!” Thorn suddenly snapped.

Lucky jerked his head up and scowled. “It’s not like you’re talking to me anyway. I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.”

“Maybe if you listened you might learn something.”

“About what? The exhibit or the wreck?” Lucky asked, placing his hands on the table in front of him. “I wouldn’t mind seeing the exhibit, or a shipwreck for that matter, but since all you’re doing is badgering him with the same questions over and over, I didn’t see what harm it would be to work on the design for the next board.”

“At least you know how to focus on something.”

Cain sighed heavily as he watched the two snipe back and forth. “Leave off already, Thorn, it isn’t Lucky you’re upset with, it’s me and I don’t see why, I’ve told you time and time again that I haven’t had anything to do with Santiago or wreck diving since that shit blew up years ago. Why is that so hard for you to believe?”

“I didn’t say I didn’t believe you,” Thorn growled defensively. “I’m just trying to gather as much information for Mark as I possibly can so we can settle this shit once and for all.”

“Fine, here is me telling you, for the last time, that I have already told you everything I know.”

Cain stared into Thorn’s eyes, holding his gaze as Lucky finished his beer, stood and began doing the dishes.

It was Thorn who finally glanced away first. “All right, I’ll ease up.”

“Thank you.”

Thorn huffed and went for the drawer that held Roscoe’s leash, the big dog trotting over as soon as he heard it open.

“Ready to go out boy?” Thorn asked as he scratched the back of Roscoe’s neck.

Roscoe gave a woof and shook his fur.

“How’d he get his name?” Lucky asked suddenly, drawing Cain’s attention toward him.

“He’s named after a sheriff on an old 80s TV show. A bumbling moron of a law enforcement officer and as corrupt as they came, but funny as hell.”

Lucky laughed at that, his brilliant smile and the way his eyes lit up made it impossible for Cain to look away from him. All afternoon, Lucky’s request had been running through his mind, and until his argument with Thorn, he’d been half hard with anticipation.

“Walk Roscoe with me?”

It was half statement and half question. Cain cast a quick glance at Thorn to see Roscoe prancing around him, practically tying him up in the leash. A stab of anger over the constant questioning surged through him, and while he knew, deep down, that some of Thorn’s frustration was caused by Mark’s constant demands for information, it still pissed him off.

“I’m gonna help Lucky with the dishes.”

“Yeah, ‘cause we have a ton of them, right,” Thorn grumbled bitterly before leading Roscoe outside.

As soon as he heard the door slam shut, Cain slapped a hand to his forehead and drug it down over his eyes, groaning in frustration.

“Is he always so angry about everything?”

Cain cracked open one eye to see Lucky leaning against the counter, watching him intently while drying the last of the dinner plates on a towel.

Cain shook his head and pushed away from the counter, crowding into Lucky’s space. “Nope, not for a long time.”

“So it is me he’s pissed about.”

“More like he’s pissed at himself because he was wrong and Mark and I were right. He should have told you the truth. I should have told you the truth. I just wish you’d ease up and forgive him already.”

“Maybe I would if he’d actually apologize.”

Cain stiffened, frustration and a bit of shock surging through him, along with more than just a little bit of disappointment. “You mean he hasn’t yet?”

Lucky actually laughed at that, though there was no joy in his laughter this time, only bitterness. “Did you really expect him to?”

“Yeah, actually, I did.”

“Sorry ta break it to ya, but all he’s done so far was temper his regret that I was pissed with justifications for why he felt the need to go about shit that way. That’s not good enough.”

“No, I don’t expect it would be.”

Lucky put the plate away and closed the cabinet with a soft click. “Can we just not talk about it anymore?”

“I’m okay with that.”

“Good, ‘cause I’m pretty sure I owe you something.”

Cain licked his lips and grinned. “I’m pretty sure you do.”

Chuckling low, Lucky slid to his knees with a grace Cain couldn’t help but admire, his long hair spilling forward across his cheek as his hands slid down Cain’s thighs. Lucky raised his eyes, and Cain let out a gasp as the intensity in that brilliant blue gaze. The smile Lucky gave him was particularly wicked as he leaned forward and undid the button and zipper with his teeth.

Cain moaned and Lucky laughed softly as he rubbed his face cheek over the front of Cain’s boxers, before reaching in through the slit and gently running fingertips over him.

“Gonna tease me now?” Cain asked.

Lucky blew warm air over the tip of him and Cain closed his eyes.

“Yeah,” Lucky muttered, then Cain felt his tongue lapping at the slit and let out a rumbling groan. Time seemed to freeze then, as Lucky lavished attention on him, licking, sucking, and feathering little kisses over his cock before finally opening his mouth and taking him in.

Cain gripped the edge of the counter behind him as Lucky did that thing with his tongue where he swirled it around him, then pressed it flat to the underside of his cock and hummed. The vibration spread through him, bringing a strangled gasp.

Sometimes he murmured in short little bursts, other times long, drawn out sounds that almost made Cain’s knees buckle. In between he’d lick and bob, taking Cain deep into his throat before sliding off slowly. It was so, so tempting to crush Lucky’s hair in his fists and fuck his face until he damn near choked on it. Every second was pure bliss and torture too, pushing him closer and closer to the edge until at last, Lucky took him deep and hummed long and loud as pleasure ripped through Cain and he came down Lucky’s throat.

Cain felt boneless, he felt amazing, he felt like he was fuckin’ flying and had little desire to open his eyes. Still, he dragged them open to catch sight of Lucky licking the last traces of cum from his cock, a sight that nearly had him getting hard all over again. Then his eyes raised up even further, and he saw Thorn, standing with Roscoe by the kitchen, raw lust and naked fury bright in his lover’s eyes.

“Dishes, huh?” Thorn snarled before grabbing his forgotten wallet and stalking back out again.

“Fuuccck,” Cain groaned, smacking a hand to his forehead again.

“I wish,” he heard Lucky mutter before the younger man fled the room.

***

Beer in his hand, Thorn sat behind his desk with a pile of papers to his right and an ever dwindling mound to his left. Invoices, packing slips, order forms, he was slowly making his way through it all when the phone rang, startling him enough that he jerked the pen, leaving a small mark beside the column of notes he was making in a ledger.

“Yeah?” He growled into the phone when he answered it.

“Hello to you to, you sour fuck,” Mark’s voice responded through the receiver.

“Sorry man. What’s going on?”

“Talked to Simon today, finally, squirmy little fuck has been doing everything in his power to try and avoid having a face to face with me.”

“That’s never good.”

“No, it isn’t and in this case, it was particularly bad, since it turns out he’s the dumbass whose been wreck diving out at that English Frigate.”

“You mean pilfering from it and selling whatever he’s been able to find on the black market,” Thorn grumbled.

“Pretty much, but that’s not the half of it. I found out Santiago’s brother, Christian is the curator at the museum displaying all of those pieces from the wreck, so I had Tony Blaine take a walk through yesterday, and he’s about ninety percent positive that the pieces on display are fakes. Well planned out and well executed fakes, but fakes just the same.”

Well shit.

“I did some digging, found out the museum owns the wreck, so my guess at this point is that as the pieces come in, Christian and Santiago have been replacing them with fakes and selling the pieces on the black market. Only with Stewart doing the same thing, and this being such a small damn area, they’re driving the prices down by trying to unload too many pieces at once.”

“That would be my guess too, which is why Santiago is so pissed.”

“Yeah. Look, I’m sorry I’ve been bustin’ your balls lately about Cain, I should have taken his word that he was done with that business.”

“Yeah, you should have. It’s already started driving a wedge between us, all of those questions you had me asking, and having Lucky firmly clinging to his side isn’t helping anything. I fucked up, I made a mistake in keeping the truth from him, now he wants to hold a damn grudge and it’s pissing me the fuck off.”

“Have you apologized yet?”

“I explained to him why I felt it was the best course of action at the time.”

“Which wasn’t an apology.”

“Yeah. I know. I’m working on it, but the little shit doesn’t make it easy.”

“And he won’t, so bite the bullet and tell him what he needs to hear and move on, dammit. You’re relationship woes are grating on my nerves.”

“Says the guy who once had me proofread his love letters to his wife.”

“Told you before never mention that again.”

“So what did you end up doing with Simon?”

“He’s out of the club. I couldn’t trust him to stop diving and stop fucking around with stolen goods. Maybe things would have been different if he hadn’t tried to run and hide from me, then weasel out of it once I had him cornered, but the little snake didn’t want to own up to anything until he was forced to.”

“Did you find out if that was why he was looking for Cain?”

“Yeah, that’s exactly what he wanted, someone with some wreck diving experience to go down with him, help bring back double what he was able to uncover each trip. Plus the idiot was diving at night to avoid being detected. I know I don’t have to tell you what a grade A level of stupid that was.”

“No, you don’t.” Thorn paused, tapping his pen against the side of the phone. “You know this doesn’t change the fact that I owe Santiago an ass whoopin’.”

“Karl filled me in on what happened to Lucky. You know I would never suggest that you guys just let it drop.”

“Wasn’t sure, what with him being out of the club and all.”

“And what happened to him happened while he was still a member, not only that, but he’s under your protection, so member or not, no one gets to lay a hand on him.”

“Thanks for that.”

“It’s all good, Brutha. I’m still looking into that other issue as well, of Lucky and those porn tapes. I finally got my hands on a copy, figured that might be the best way to trace the money back to the source. Still might take a while to find the asshole, but I won’t give up until I do.”

“I want a piece of him when you find him.”

“No promises. You understand. When I find him I plan to move on him, no fuckin’ around waiting for you to be able to drive down.”

“Yeah, got it.”

“You know I’ll deal with it the right way. You handle shit up there, let me police my own backyard.”

“I hear ya.”

“Good. I need to get back behind the bar. You take it easy.”

“You too, brutha,” Thorn replied before Mark hung up. Tossing the phone back on the desk, Thorn sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. Yes, he knew he owed Lucky an apology and now he owed one to Cain too. At this rate, he was going to be eating crow for the holidays and without all the trimmings to soften the blow.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The one thing Thorn had to admit was that Lucky was professional. He worked his ass off at the shop each day, did his chores around the house, and once he’d finished the pack of cigarettes he’d bought he went back to chewing gum. Unfortunately the one thing he didn’t do was let Thorn off the hook without an apology, though there was one moment—

Rounding the corner, Lucky’s entire focus has been on rubbing Roscoe’s ears and petting the enthusiastically leaping animal. After filling Roscoe’s water dish, Lucky had taken a step back to let him drink, only to have his foot strike a puddle and send him skidding, right into Thorn.

Latching on to Lucky, Thorn had been quick to steady him, the press of Lucky’s body against his own a warm, welcoming feel and he’d been unable to resist the urge to hug him close, shocked when Lucky actually went with it.

Brushing a hand down Lucky’s back, Thorn had inhaled the scent of Lucky’s shampoo and the smell of salt air that clung to his skin, while Lucky nuzzled against his chest and sighed.

“Are you done being mad at me?” Thorn had asked hopefully.

Lucky had stiffened then and stepped back, eyes narrowing before he’d stalked out of the room.

That would have been the perfect moment for an apology and yet Thorn hadn’t been able to bring himself to issue one. Still, that didn’t stop him from rounding up a few guys from their charter and going in search of Santiago after giving Lucky and Cain strict orders to stay home.

“We will,” Cain assured him, nudging Lucky, hoping he’d say something positive to Thorn, but the younger man just looked down at his shoes like he was embarrassed. He probably was, thinking he’d fucked up and dragged them into a mess when in reality, it was them who were the cause of him being jumped.

Thorn wrapped an arm around Cain’s shoulders and pulled him in close, and Cain hugged him tight in response.

“Be safe,” Cain told him.

“Always,” Thorn replied and with one last glance at Lucky, he headed out.

***

Cain set the alarm behind him, actually grateful for the system, despite all the years he’d spent firmly against getting one.

“You need to give him a break or you’ll wreck everything,” Cain cautioned as he headed to the couch and flipped on the TV.

Lucky said nothing, just followed him into the living room and dropped down into a seat across from him. They watched the first thirty minutes of action and explosives in silence, then Lucky turned toward Cain, chewing on his upper lip in that way that Cain had come to interpret meant that he had a question to ask.

“Sir?”

“Yeah, Lucky?”

“How did you and Thorn meet?”

Cain couldn’t keep a smile from blooming on his face as he recalled the first moment he’d laid eyes on Thorn. Reaching for the remote, he muted the movie, and turned his full attention on Lucky.

“I was living in Beaufort County, I was twenty-two, had just finished community college and had no idea what the hell I wanted to do with an associates in Mechanical Engineering, which was a pretty fancy way of saying I could build shit. Problem was, it didn’t interest me, I’d barely graduated, it was a two year program, but it took me three and a half. I’d had to retake no less than five classes, mostly ‘cause instead of studying I spent all of my free time on the beach.”

“Is that where you learned to surf?”

“Nope, already knew how to surf long before that. Grew up by the water, never should have bothered with college, it wasn’t for me, nothing about it appealed to me, except getting my folks off my back. I guess the easier solution would have been to stop going back home for family gatherings, but I hadn’t figured that part out yet.

“So there I was, useless degree in hand, splitting rent on an apartment with three other guys, and working as a server at nights at this Italian restaurant that barely paid the bills, but at least it left me plenty of time to surf in the morning.

“One night I was doubling as server and bus boy, the place was really full and these guys came in. Big guys, scruffy, long haired, jeans and leather wearing guys on big hogs they’d parked outside. Most of them were older, but a couple of them were around my age. Still, they scared the hell out of me and wouldn’t you figure, I got assigned their table.”

Lucky grimaced and Cain had to laugh.

“That was my sentiment exactly,” Cain replied. “I tried to pawn it off on Margaret, this older lady who was working there, even tried to bribe her by offering to work the Saturday shift that she hated, but she wouldn’t budge. She took one look at them and pretty much told me there wasn’t enough tips in the world to get her to switch.”

“Was she afraid of them?”

“Yeah, I’m guessing she was. I know I was. I didn’t grow up around a club the way you did, I wasn’t used to being around bikers let alone having to talk to them, and there I was with a table of them. I don’t know what I expected, I guess I’d let the media shit color my vision, saw the way they were portrayed, not the guys who were sitting in the booth, talking amongst themselves as they waited for me to take their orders.”

“And I’m guessing you did.”

“Eventually. I kind of stalled and checked on every table I had first, even took the orders for the couple who’d come in behind them before I found the nerve to head over to their table. I’d kinda been hoping they’d get fed up with the lack of service and leave, or make a scene and get thrown out of there, but it was like they hadn’t even noticed how long I took. They were too deep in their own conversation.

“So there I was, hands shaking as I’m trying to write their orders down, doing my best not to look at them even though I knew I needed to get some idea of what food was going where. That’s when it happened. My eyes landed on the youngest guy, he had this mop of shaggy brown hair and beautiful hazel eyes. I ended up stammering when I asked him if I could take his order and he just, smiled, which made me want to get away even more. I scribbled down his order and took off for the kitchen, completely forgetting to take the order from the last guy at the table.”

“So you were attracted to him right away, like instantly?”

Cain threw his head back and laughed. “Not in the slightest. I didn’t even notice him.”

“But I though…”

Cain laughed again and shook his head at Lucky. “Naw, Thorn was the guy whose order I forgot to take. He was also the guy I ended up spilling water on later, while I was trying to refill their drinks.”

Lucky’s eyes bugged out and he joined Cain in the laughter. Roscoe woofed at both of them and jumped up on the couch to lay his head in Cain’s lap. Cain rubbed his ears and scratched his head, while he studied the way Lucky’s eyes lit up when he laughed. He was beautiful when he was happy, Cain wished they could find a way to keep him that way all the time.

“How did he handle being ignored?”

“Fine, that night anyway. I did eventually take his order and bring his food and I managed not to spill anything else on him or the rest of the table, and they left a really nice tip too. Figured that was it when they left. I collected the dishes and wiped the table down and had way less excitement for the rest of my night, which was good because I don’t think I could have handled being that nervous twice.”

“And now here you are, one of us. Does it ever feel weird?”

“Oh yeah. Especially when I remember the weeks that came after that night.”

“What was so special about them?”

“Well, that’s when I started to get to know Thorn,” Cain explained. “After that disastrous night, he started coming in by himself. Since he was alone, the hostess just seated him anywhere that was free, which fortunately, wasn’t my section. He didn’t like that either, and he started asking to be seated at one of my tables, even if it meant that there were times when he’d have to wait. Turns out he’d been asking the other waiters and waitresses about me.”

“And they just told him whatever he wanted to know?”

“Nope, not all of them. Margaret warned me that he’d been asking. Said she told him it was none of his business what time I got off work. Couple of the others told him stuff, though.”

“Like?”

“My full name, that I was single and had gotten dumped by my boyfriend a few months before. Someone else told him I was a surfer and the hostess, who liked to hit the waves herself, actually told him which beach I tended to hang out at in the mornings.”

“Dayum. Were you pissed?”

“A little. Mostly, though, I was just scared. You think he’s intense now? He’s mellowed in the past fifteen years.”

“Fi-fifteen years,” Lucky stammered, shock evident in his eyes.

“Yeah, we’ve been together that long. Hasn’t always been easy, but then, it wouldn’t have been as much fun.”

Cain watched as Lucky scowled and seemed to be puzzling over something. As tempting as it was to ask, he decided to let it go for now and finish the story.

“When Thorn loves someone, it’s forever. Even when they fuck up, he doesn’t throw them away, believe me. I know. I made mistakes that should have gotten me put out on the street, but Thorn has always stood by me.”

“So, did he ask you out at the restaurant? How’d you get over being nervous around him?”

Cain smiled, wondering if that wasn’t a big part of Lucky’s issues with Thorn. If so it would be easy enough to fix, once Thorn apologized.

“I never gave him a chance to ask anything at the restaurant, I took his order and cut off every attempt at conversation by pointing out how busy I was, then rushed around filling stuff even if it didn’t necessarily need to be filled. He caught on pretty quick though, and showed up at the beach one morning. With his board.”

“Seriously? Oh man, that’s, fuck that’s like fairy tale shit.”

Cain cocked an eyebrow and watched as Lucky blushed and stammered his way through an explanation.

“I don’t, not in a bad way, just, I guess what I’m trying to say is that it reminds me a bit of how my Old Man met my Pops. Persistence, like, he knew you guys were meant to be together and was willing to do whatever it took to make it happen. Most people are never lucky enough to get that.”

Cain nodded, pleased that Lucky understood just how rare it was for someone to go to such lengths to get to know someone, even when the other person was being resistant to their efforts.

“Like I said, back then my impression of guys on bikes was pretty lopsided. Never thought I’d see one on a surfboard either, but Thorn hit the water and started to shred up the waves and instead of avoiding him, I found myself watching.”

“Was he really good?”

“Still is, but he can’t do it as often as he’d like, he injured his lower back a few years ago and if he spends too much time on a board he ends up hunched and staggering like an old man for days. Which means lots of time on the couch with a remote control in his hand and a heating pad on his back, which he hates.”

“So did you talk that day?”

“Yeah, we did, when the waves died, we sat on a dune and talked for hours. It was tense at first, but he cut right to the chase and wanted to know why I was so nervous around him, and when I told him that I didn’t want to end up some biker’s bitch, passed around at a party for everyone to take a turn with, he about died laughing, then he told me I needed to stop watching bad movies, or at least, stop putting so much stock in them.”

“You really thought that?”

“Yeah, I really did, among other shitty stereotypes. It was hard to hold onto them, though, the longer we talked and the more that I saw him as a person and not just some guy on a bike. We agreed to meet the next morning if the weather held. It did, and like the day before we surfed, we talked, then we grabbed lunch before we went our separate ways.”

“How long did it take before you guys started dating?”

“He still claims the second time we met on the beach was our first date.”

“And what do you say?”

“That our first real date was two weeks after that, when he picked me up on his bike and we rode up to Raleigh to a monster truck race.”

“How’d you like being on the back of his bike?”

Cain just shook his head. “I couldn’t decide if I wanted to puke or laugh. He went slow, but it still felt like we were flying and totally out of control. Every time we turned I worried about falling off, every time someone passed us I was afraid we’d get hit. By the time we got there I wanted to kiss the sidewalk.”

Lucky doubled over with laughter and slid from the chair to the floor he was laughing so hard.

“Thanks kid,” Cain grumbled. “Glad you’re getting such a kick out of my pain.”

“I’m sorry, Sir,” Lucky said, though he was still snickering and unable to stop.

“No you’re not.”

“Okay, I’m not. It’s hard to picture you being afraid to get on the back of a bike.”

“Yeah, it’s hard for me to imagine now, too, but back then, the only rush I ever got was on a board. My old man used to refer to motorcycles as death machines. My mom would have taken to her bed with a week with migraines and heart palpitations if she’d ever seen me on one. The wildest thing we ever did growing up in my household was deep fry a turkey on Thanksgiving.”

“Isn’t that more dangerous than riding on the back of a bike?”

“Yeah, actually, my dad set fire to the awning the first year he tried it, guess it’s a good thing he didn’t try it in the garage like the guy up the street. He ended up burning half his house down.”

“Oh shit, bet his wife was pissed.”

“Yeah and the in-law too, they were all out in the street yelling at one another while the firefighters were trying to put out the house. Best Thanksgiving entertainment ever.”

“Come on, it couldn’t have been better than a football game.”

“As bad as certain teams were playing that year, yeah, actually, it was way better than the lopsided game they were playing on TV. Anyway, the point I was trying to make was that it was both intensely scary and thrilling, and we had a lot of fun at the monster truck jam. Everything sort of fell into place after that, now here we are fifteen years later, running a business together, sharing our lives together and trying to take the next step forward in our relationship. With you.”

***

For a long time after Cain turned the movie back on, Lucky just sat thinking about their story, and how amazing it would be to have a story like that himself.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

It was dark and the house was quiet when Thorn pushed the door open and stepped in. The click of fingernails on tile announced Roscoe’s approach, and Thorn groaned as he knelt to rub noses with the big dog and talk to him.

A light switch clicked on, and Thorn blinked at the sudden brightness and looked up to see Lucky standing there, yawning sleepily.

“You’re home,” Lucky stated, eyes widening a bit as they settled on Thorn’s face.

Thorn knew what he saw there, he’d seen it himself in the mirrors of his bike. His lip was busted and there was a bright bruise on his cheek, not to mention his knee hurt like hell from where some bastard had kicked him.

“Yeah, guess I am,” Thorn replied.

“He was worried,” Lucky explained as he headed to the kitchen.

Thorn wanted to ask if Lucky had been worried, but he decided not to push the issue after Lucky returned with ice wrapped in a dish towel and handed it to him.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Lucky said softly, then backed away, returning to the living room. Thorn could hear the muffled sounds of Lucky waking Cain, and knew the exact moment when he realized what Lucky was saying because suddenly Cain was calling out his name and vaulting over the back of the couch to reach him.

Thorn found himself on the receiving end of a bone crushing hug that brought another groan from him.

“Can’t breathe,” he gasped, finally prompting Cain to ease up and back away.

Cain reached out and touched Thorn’s cheek near the bruise and Thorn let out a hiss.

“Damn,” Cain muttered.

“That about sums it up. It looks worse than it is, those bastards won’t be jumping anyone else for a while.”

“Wish I’d been there to see that.”

“I’m glad you weren’t. I’d have been distracted, trying to keep one eye on you, especially when some idiot whipped a knife out.”

“How’d that go for him?”

“Got his wrist broke, shoulder dislocated and stabbed in the leg with his own blade. Could have been worse, but we weren’t out to kill ‘em just out to remind them not to fuck with us or anyone under our protection ever again.”

Over Cain’s shoulder, Thorn could see Lucky lingering as if he wanted to join them, but wasn’t sure of what his welcome would be. As soon as he caught sight of Thorn watching him though, he ducked his head and headed for his room, disappearing behind the door.

“Dammit,” Thorn muttered beneath his breath.

“What was that?” Cain asked as he took the ice from Thorn and went about tending the bruises himself.

“Nothing.”

Taking Cain’s hand, Thorn led him upstairs to their bedroom.

“So was Santiago there?”

“Yeah, he and I had a nice chat before the fists started flying.”

“And…”

“And he knows someone from the club is wreck diving that site and is convinced it’s you. Kept on claiming that we were costing him and his business partner a ton of money and he wanted it stopped. He wanted the artifacts back that were taken from the site and the coins too, or the price we got for selling them. I’m not sure I beat it into his head that it wasn’t you, but I gave it my best. He’ll be wearing my boot print on the side of his face for the next few weeks.”

“Did you tell him it was Simon?”

“Hell no, even if Mark kicked him outta the club we ain’t gonna rat him out, but Santiago said there’s been rumors from several sources that a guy in our kutte has been the one selling coins and silver from the wreck. I guess some of the pieces match those in the catalogue at the museum, so they know which ship it’s from. Guess Christian is feeding him all of the particulars he needs to ferret out whose doing it.”

“Which means he isn’t likely to just let it drop,” Cain pointed out.

“There is that, I think Blaine needs to go back in there and take a closer look. Maybe we can rattle a few cages of our own if we can get proof those museum pieces aren’t real.”

“Maybe it’s time I called Simon, see if he’s still working that site.”

“No, I don’t want you sticking your nose into it. If he calls you, fine, get the information like Mark said, but I won’t have you reaching out to him. If things go south, you could end up getting thrown under the bus again.”

“Right now the only thing I want to be under is you.”

Thorn chuckled, low and throaty. “I can work with that.”

***

December Third was a bad day. Lucky wasn’t sure how he’d gotten through work without cussing someone out, the only saving grace was that the board he’d been working on was as dark and angry as he felt.

One year. It was hard to believe it had been a whole year since his Old Man had passed away. Memories of both good times and times when he’d been a reckless, stubborn little shit flashed through his head all through the day. Remembering the times he’d scorned advice, pushed limits, gotten into shit simply because he’d been told not to. Right now he could use advice. His head was all muddled up and he couldn’t seem to untangle the things he thought from the things he felt.

By the time he got home from work that night he was on edge and barely able to choke down dinner. He quickly retreated to his room and closed the door as soon as his dishes were washed.

***

“Okay, enough!” Cain snapped. “Fix this shit, before Christmas, or so help me, you’ll spend the whole damned holiday sleeping on the couch!”

And with that Cain stormed out of the house. Thorn spent his evening in the study, staring at the same page of the magazine he’d been trying to read until he gave up and hurled it across the room. Of course, Roscoe, brilliant animal that he was, retrieved it and brought it back to him and happily accepted Thorn’s grateful pats. He heard the door open and close, signifying Cain’s return, but he knew better than to join him in the bedroom until he’d already gone to sleep, otherwise, he’d find himself relegated to sleeping in the easy chair.

***

In his own room, Lucky had the music on, the pounding rhythm just aggravating him more. He tried drawing, but tore up every one. Finally, he flung himself on the bed and stared up at the ceiling, remembering his Pops and his Old Man lying on the floor with him, the living room around them looked like an explosion of art supplies. Classic rock was on the radio, Sidewinder had a marker in his mouth and another in his hand, beard brushing the paper as he bent to his task, the white poster board below him quickly filling up with images and words.

Ray was carefully punching holes around the edge of his image and pushing Christmas lights through, the battery pack taped to the back of the board so he could turn on the blinking strand whenever he wanted. Lucky’s own poster had a lifelike depiction of his favorite wrestler, right down to the face paint and fringe. He’d been twelve years old and such a fan of all the showmanship and pyro that he’d been checking the time all day in anticipation of the show they were heading into the city to see.

That night had been his first experience seeing wrestling live, so much grander and louder than he’d ever imagined from watching on TV. When his favorite superstars music had hit, Lucky had surged to his feet, sign waving over his head, in absolute awe of how tall and ominous the man had appeared as he’d walked past accompanied by a thick cloud of fog. Blue strobe lights had slashed through the darkness of the room, and the lights on Ray’s sign had been flashing. Lucky had nearly passed out when the man had slapped hands with him on his way to the ring. He’d vowed not to wash that hand forever, but of course his dads had made him.

They’d been sticklers about some things, like cleanliness and getting decent grades, eating proper meals and getting a good night’s sleep each night, despite Lucky’s protests that he didn’t need eight hours and wanted to stay up and hang out with them. The truth was, he’d never bothered to make many friends outside of the other children of club members because the lives they led always seemed more interesting to him than that of the kids they’d gone to school with.

Lucky remembered learning to play cards on the coffee table in the living room, a baseball game on mute, but still prompting a few curses and complaints from Sidewinder as his team failed to rally in the bottom of the ninth. Their plates held the remains of homemade pizza, sausage and mushroom had been Lucky’s favorite, peperoni and extra cheese had been Ray’s. Sidewinder had always gone for the supreme, loading his up with mushrooms, green peppers, onions, ground beef and three different kinds of cheese. No store bought or fast food pizza had ever tasted as good.

Those were the nights when it was blues on the radio, rich guitar sounds accompanied by deep bass voices and words filled with longing and pain. His Old Man would sing along, foot tapping as he tossed another Life Saver on the table. They always played with junk food, cookies were worth ten, mini candy bars were worth five, and life savers were worth a dollar.

“You keep eating those and you’ll have nothing left to bet with,” Pops had reminded Lucky as he’d placed a lime candy on the table followed by a tiny chocolate bar.

“I fold anyway,” Lucky said, dropping his cards face down on the table in front of him to watch as his Old Man had tossed a candy bar in and then called, forcing his Pops to reveal his cards. It had been a nice straight, but the full house his Old Man had been rockin’ had won him the hand. Lucky was glad he hadn’t tossed in another piece of candy, all he’d had was a three of a kind.

There had been laughter as Sidewinder had collected his winnings, then picked up the cards to shuffle them. There had almost always been laughter in the house when he’d been healthy.

Lucky remembered those nights when he was old enough to have a beer or three with them, and they’d break out his favorite game when he was a kid and see how well he could stack those colored pieces on the wobbling tower. Topple had always been a hilarious challenge, filled with scattered pieces and good natured threats. Buzzed it was even more amusing, especially as he’d sat poised with the final piece, his hand shaking as bad as the wobbling tower, and then he’d finally placed it, the crash had been spectacular, and the three of them has spent ten laughing minutes crawling around the floor, bumping into one another and occasionally falling over while searching beneath chairs and the radiator, trying to find the pieces again.

That game never got old, which was why it was one of the few things Lucky still carried with him, tucked in a bag that might have been better used on clothes, only the game and the memories had meant more, along with the hope that maybe one day, Cain and Thorn might play it with him.

The memories kept flowing, so many good moments of laughing and learning. He remembered being mortified when his Pops had given him a lesson in putting on a condom by teaching him how to roll it over a banana. His cheeks had felt like they were on fire and his hands had shook as he’d accepted the foil packet while trying to avoid Ray’s eyes.

“Nothing to be embarrassed about, son, it’s better than having to go to the clinic, or worse, having to explain to some pissed off father how you knocked his daughter up.”

The thought of that had only made Lucky blush more. He pushed the condom down too far over the top of the banana and poked a hole through it, uncertain of what to do next.

“If that happens, and you want it to happen before you get to the down and dirty, just take it off and put on another one.”

Lucky nodded and accepted the second condom, peeled off the wrecked one and bent his head to the task of getting the condom on the banana without breaking it.

“Hold it at the top to keep from rolling it down too far, you want to leave room for it to collect all the fluid when you ejaculate.”

Lucky hadn’t thought it possible for his face to feel any warmer, but as soon as Ray had said that, all he’d wanted was to crawl down a hole. He got it, he did, using protection was important, but at this rate, he was going to be too embarrassed to ever want to look at a condom, or a banana again.

Something warm and mushy suddenly coated his hand and Lucky looked down to see smooshed banana coating his fingers. Ray snickered, as Lucky tried to wipe it off and only served to get bits and pieces everywhere.

“That wouldn’t be very pleasant for any part involved,” Ray snickered, as Lucky just dumped the banana in the trash and grabbed a second one. A third condom was passed his way and this time Lucky managed to get it on without incident.

“Congratulations,” Ray had joked. “You won’t be making banana pudding today.”

Lucky remembered the pranks they used to play on one another. Flour bombs and grasshoppers in cereal boxes, that one had ended in quite a mess when they’d come hopping out in Sidewinder’s face. He remembered when Ray had bought a clapper and he and Sidewinder had gone out and bought twelve more, plugging damn near everything in the house into one. The first time Ray had clapped to turn on the TV everything else had turned on with it.

Needless to say he’d used a remote control after that.

The final memory was of the night Mark had put the Rollin’ Jokers tattoo on his back. He’d heard so many stories about the pain involved that even though he didn’t have a fear of needles he’d been scared as hell. Sidewinder had sat beside him the entire time, keeping him distracted with stories of the club back in its early years, the outlaw days, the places he’d been and the things he’d seen. He’d finally told Lucky that night about how he’d met Ray, and as Lucky had sat listening, he’d realized two things. One, that the tattoo gun didn’t hurt near as much as some people had made it out to, and that his Pops and his Old Man had been lucky as hell to find each other amid all the chaos Sidewinder had been involved in.

He’d always known they loved one another, but hearing their story taught him the depth of their love and all the bullshit they’d had to endure in order to be together.

With tears streaming down his cheeks, Lucky rolled off the bed and stumbled to the bathroom to splash cold water on his face. Looking at himself in the mirror, he hated what he saw, what he’d become. Knew his Pops and his Old Man would have hated it too. Why the fuck couldn’t he just be happy with what he was being given here, why the hell did he have to want something more?

He punched the mirror hard enough to shatter the glass, watched the pieces rain down into the empty sink, the light twinkling off them. He’d barely scraped his knuckles and it hadn’t even hurt. He stalked out of the bathroom and walked to the door, then turned around and walked back to the bathroom. For a while he paced, muttered, unsettled with both anger and need, wishing Thorn would have just said that he was sorry for keeping the truth from him, instead of acting like it had all been justified. Clenching his fists, Lucky longed to smash something else, just beat on something until his fists were bloody. He wished he could go prowl for a fight, anything to turn what he was feeling into pain that he could tolerate.

Shaking, he left his room and stepped out into the darkness of the den, trying to decide where to go, what to do. He took two steps toward the front door and realized how stupid it would be to leave. All he’d do out there was get into trouble and make Cain and Thorn even more disappointed in him. Closing his eyes, Lucky tried to take a deep breath to calm himself. As he did, he was reminded of one of the rules he’d been given. Talk to them if something was wrong.

His eyes darted toward the staircase leading to their room. He’d never even been up there, had never been invited to and this late at night he had no way of being sure what kind of reception he’d get, or what he might be interrupting. Frozen, not wishing to bother anyone, he was torn between going and knocking and curling up on the couch with some random crap on television. He did need to talk though, he really needed to not be alone with his thoughts and his memories.

Talk to us if something is bothering you.

He’d agreed to that, like he’d agreed to all the rules and he had been doing his best to follow them. If he was back at the compound he would have gone out and sat on a rock, maybe smoked a bit if he still had cigarettes. He wouldn’t have talked to anyone though, not even Cody, he wouldn’t have wanted to seem weak, needy, but he did need someone right now. He needed a hug, he needed to curl up beside someone he could trust and not have to pretend he was too bad ass to be hurting. He wanted Cain to do something, anything to take his mind off what he was feeling, and he needed to not be left alone when they were done.

For the first time in his life, Lucky wanted more than anything to share a bed through the night and wake up in someone’s arms and not have to do the walk of shame before someone else caught him. So step by agonizing step, he ascended the stairs and found himself in a room with a pool table a, a couch and a big screen. There was only one door off of this large room, so it was easy to know where to go. Walking up to the door, he listened for a moment, glad he wouldn’t be interrupting them together, then he knocked and stepped back a little, waiting.

When no one answered after several seconds, he stepped up to the door and knocked again a little bit harder, shaking a little as all manner of thoughts and memories kept flooding through his head.

Thorn pulled the door open, disheveled and looking annoyed at being woken.

“What?” he grumbled.

“I um, can I talk to Cain?”

Thorn glanced behind him at the clock, squinting sleepily to try and make out the red numbers.

“Fuck, it’s three in the god damned morning,” he groaned, leaning against the door frame to steady himself.

“I’m sorry, I just, I really need to talk to Cain,” Lucky insisted, staring up at the larger man imploringly, not like Thorn could see his face or much beside his shadow standing there.

“He’s asleep, like any sane person would be at this hour. Can’t it wait until morning, fuckin’ hell it’s gonna be morning way too soon as it is.”

Lucky shook his head, forgetting Thorn couldn’t see it, his voice pleading as he asked, “Can you wake him?”

“Why don’t you just tell me what you need and I’ll get it for you?” Thorn offered, then stifled a yawn. “Or better still just go back to sleep and we’ll find it in the morning.”

“I don’t need anything except to talk to him,” Lucky explained.

Thorn yawned again and sighed heavily. “You can talk to me, since you woke me.”

“No!” Lucky shot back stubbornly. He wanted the person he knew would listen to him, would hold him and stroke his hair and maybe even stay with him for the rest of the night.

“Then wait until morning,” Thorn growled and moved to close the door. Lucky smacked his hand against it and tried to hold it open while he tried to wedge himself past the big man blocking entrance into the room.

“Please?” Lucky said softly.

“Look,” Thorn replied, sounding tired, frustrated and a little annoyed, but not angry. Lucky was a little surprised that he wasn’t angry and loudly ordering him away. “I’m not waking him, he’s mad enough as it is, so seeing as how I’m awake, why don’t we just go sit on the couch and you can tell me what’s going on?”

Lucky hung his head then, utterly defeated and backed away. He still wasn’t sure if he could trust Thorn and he didn’t know how he’d respond to Lucky telling him what was wrong. Probably just say that he was a grown man and not some little kid that needed to be coddled and have his hand held. Standing there in the dark he felt stupid now for having come up here, for wanting someone to hold him and talk to him and help him forget how much he missed his dads and his club and his friends.

“Nevermind,” Lucky said softly, as he turned and headed back down the stairs.

***

Thorn watched Lucky’s retreating shadow with a frown until he disappeared from sight. Even then, he remained in the doorway, listening as the door to Lucky’s room opened and then closed again, leaving the house silent once more. A prickle of unease ran down Thorn’s spine and he hesitated for a moment, torn between going back to bed and following Lucky and pushing the issue. It was really a no brainer. He’d never get any sleep until he found out what was going on.

Cursing, he stepped out of the room and quietly closed the door behind him before heading down the stairs. He quickly made his way to Lucky’s room and toyed with the idea of knocking, but instead, just pushed open the door and stepped inside. There was a light on in the bathroom and the door was mostly open, enough light spilling out that he could see Lucky wasn’t in his bed. As he crossed the room, he caught sight of the spider web of shattered glass that made up the bathroom mirror a fist sized dent in the center of it. Even with the broken shards he could still see Lucky’s reflection as he stood in front of the glass.

His head was down as Thorn reached the bathroom door where he could see why. Lucky was staring at the broken shards of glass in the sink, was holding one of them tight in his hand and hesitantly studying it. Thorn watched in horror as Lucky turned his free hand over to expose his wrist and moved the glass toward it.

Thorn shouldered the door open and grabbed Lucky’s wrists, forcing them apart and pinning both his hands to the porcelain sink. Lucky’s head snapped up, bright eyes wide, meeting Thorn’s furiously worried gaze in the broken mirror in front of him. Seconds ticked past in silence between them, Thorn breathing hard as he tried to calm himself down. His heart was hammering in his chest and an explosion of words was threatening to pour forth unless he got himself in check. He got himself in check, mostly by clenching his mouth closed tight enough that he could feel his back teeth grinding together. The last thing Lucky needed right now was for him to make this worse. He needed to calm Lucky down, find out what had triggered this and decide the best way to help.

Thorn watched Lucky’s eyes well up with tears that brimmed over and spilled down his cheeks. His face flushed and then he hung his head again, his hair swinging forward, blocking out any view Thorn might have had of his eyes. That wasn’t good, he needed Lucky to look at him, needed him to know that he was there to help.

“Let go of the glass,” Thorn instructed, his voice as calm and gentle as he could make it without losing its authoritative edge. He needed Lucky’s attention, needed him to listen.

Lucky’s fingers flexed and the glass dropped with a soft plink into the bottom of the sink with all the other pieces. Shoulder’s shaking, Lucky began to loudly weep.

Thorn carefully turned Lucky to face him, shocked when Lucky flinched and tried to back away. Pinned between Thorn’s warm body and the sink he wasn’t going anywhere.

“Easy, hey, Lucky, look at me, I’m not mad, okay, I just want to help,” Thorn explained, fighting his own instincts to just pull Lucky into his arms and hold him tight. Instead, he waited, for Lucky to make the first move.

“Lucky?” Thorn implored, when the younger man simply continued to stand there and cry, pressed as tightly to the sink as he could get. “Is this why you needed Cain?”

Lucky could only nod, his body shaking as Thorn could only watch and curse himself for being a stubborn fool.

“Okay, Lucky,” Thorn assured him. “It’s gonna be okay, I promise. Let me take you up to Cain, okay? Come with me?”

Lucky nodded again, vigorously, then all but fell forward against Thorn, grabbing him around the waist and holding on tight. Thorn exhaled loudly and wrapped Lucky in a bone crushing hug.

“I’ve got you,” Thorn whispered as he stroked Lucky’s hair, kicking himself for having refused to let him into the bedroom. He’d ordered Lucky to come talk to them if he had a problem or just needed someone to talk to and the first time Lucky had tried, what had he done but push the younger man away. Cain was right, he was jealous and proud and it was hurting all of them. He had only himself to blame for the fact that Lucky had come to prefer Cain over him. When had he ever given Lucky a reason to trust him, let alone to seek him out for anything?

Letting out a slow, shaky breath, Thorn lifted Lucky up and set him on the sink, slotting himself between Lucky’s legs, the younger man’s head on his shoulder and Thorn just held him close, silent and enveloping as he stroked Lucky’s hair and back, looking to comfort him.

“Why?” Thorn asked gently when Lucky had finally calmed down some.

“It’s been a year—” Lucky muttered. “Tonight. Tonight’s been a year.”

“Awe, shit, kid,” Thorn groaned and hugged Lucky tighter.

“Can’t stop thinking,” Lucky muttered. “I should have been a better son. He deserved better.”

Squeezing his eyes shut, Thorn tried not to recall the sight of Lucky with that piece of glass in his hand or think of the way that sharp edge could have parted the soft flesh of Lucky’s wrist. The anguished, desperate expression on Lucky’s face would haunt him forever. To think that he’d considered going back to bed.

Lucky moaned and limply lay against him, so Thorn picked him up and carried him back to his and Cain’s room. Going up the staircase was hell on his back, especially with the weight Lucky was finally starting to put back on. Pulling the blankets back, Thorn lay Lucky in the bed right beside Cain. Roscoe, showing his concern for Lucky too, leapt into the space behind Lucky and licked his face, huffing when Lucky didn’t reach up and rub his ears in return.

“Come on, boy, on the floor, you’ve got your bed, go on,” Thorn urged quietly.

After a few more licks to Lucky’s face went unappreciated, Roscoe whined and jumped from the bed, returning to his own large dog pillow on the floor and allowing Thorn to climb in next to Lucky. Sliding as close as he could get, Thorn snaked an arm across Lucky’s abs and hauled him firmly against his body. Even after Lucky’s breathing evened out and he slipped into an uneasy sleep, Thorn lay awake, reflecting on the past and the future.

Lucky’s words reminded Thorn of his estrangement with his own father. How many years it had been since they’d talked? His old man had been gruff, tough, weathered, but never mean. A biker himself, he’d been Thorn’s first idol and when he’d been ready to come out, he’d been scared as hell of telling him. In the end, it had been okay. The old man had just grunted and said, “No shit, I coulda told ya that,” and that had been the end of the conversation. Life had gone on as it always had and maybe always would have if Thorn hadn’t been a complete dick when, two years later, his old man had decided to finally marry again after seven years as a widower.

Thorn had objected vehemently to his father’s fiancé. She’d been nothing like his mom, nothing like any of the women he’d known growing up and that had bugged the shit outta him. He hadn’t wanted some old florist coming into their house and putting fancy curtains up all around the house or fresh flowers in the new vases she’d stuck all over the place. Didn’t she realize that they were big men and not exactly graceful and that something was bound to get broken? He hadn’t meant for it to, he just hadn’t been used to breakable shit all over the place.

He and his old man had some rip roaring, cuss filled blowouts over her and in the end, Thorn had packed his shit and hit the road. Since then, he’d never gone back, hadn’t called, and hadn’t written, but he had spoken to a few old friends over the years, keeping track of his father’s health and making sure he was doing okay.

He was, and still in the house Thorn had grown up in. Still with her too. Funny, he’d made it a point of forgetting her name. Holding Lucky like this, feeling his body tremor, his breath hitching as he struggled to stay calm, Thorn realized that he should be grateful to still have a chance to say things to his father that were long overdue. Truth was, he should have been happy that his father was happy, the way Thorn had found happiness with Cain…

And hoped to with Lucky.

Damn but he’d nearly ruined everything. If Lucky had hurt himself tonight, Thorn wasn’t sure that Cain would have ever forgiven him. Or that he could have ever been able to forgive himself.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Cain woke to a warm presence at his back and grumbled, not in the mood to see Thorn this morning. In fact, he was planning to take a personal day and ride down the coast, talk to Mark and see if there wasn’t anything that could be done to allow Lucky to return to the club. As much as it pained him to admit, it had become clear that Thorn was incapable of forming a bond with Lucky, which also meant that Cain would have to let Lucky go too, something he really didn’t want to do. Having Lucky in his life had brought to the surface every instinct to nurture and protect that he’d never realized he had. He should have fit in well with both of them, with Thorn’s love of control and order and Lucky’s desperate yearning for it. Maybe it had been too much to hope that they could have everything.

Sighing, Cain sat up, brushed his hair from his eyes and cast a glance over at his lover, only to see Lucky’s hair spilled out on the pillow, tangled across his face as he slept. Behind Lucky, Thorn lay with eyes open, watching Cain as he took in the scene.

“What’s going on?” Cain asked, confusion evident in the way his eyebrows knitted together into a frown when he saw Thorn’s arm firmly locked across Lucky, keeping him pinned in place.

“Bad night,” Thorn said softly. ‘Really bad.”

Cain’s frown grew deeper as he slid back down in the bed to engulf Lucky in a hug. Lucky sighed in his sleep, and wiggled a little as Cain spoke to Thorn over his shoulder.

“You two can’t keep fighting with one another. I’m going to talk to Mark, it’s time Lucky went home.”

“No. He is home,” Thorn said. “And he needs us. He needs me to start behaving like a fuckin’ Dom and not a jealous bitch.”

Cain’s eyes widened as Thorn said the words he’d been waiting to hear.

“We both do,” Cain replied, reaching out to run his fingers through Thorn’s hair. “You know I love your stubborn ass.”

“Yeah, right back at you.”

“So did you two finally just fight, fuck and be done with it?”

“I wouldn’t have fucked him without you,” Thorn assured him. “Lucky…he wanted to talk to you last night. I didn’t want to wake you. I knew you were angry with me and then I got angry with Lucky for refusing to talk to me instead, so I told him it could wait until morning. He went back to his room and I followed him, there was just something about his tone and the way he carried himself. I had to. It’s a good thing I did too, I caught him about to slit his wrist with a broken piece of the mirror he’d smashed in his bathroom.”

Cain’s grip on Lucky tightened as fury darkened his eyes.

Thorn gripped his shoulder roughly. “Breathe and whatever you’re thinking of saying, don’t. It was the anniversary of Sidewinder’s passing and he wasn’t handling it well.”

“And you just made it worse.”

“Yeah, I did, and I paid for it. I’ll be paying for it for a while, but right now the important thing is to keep him safe and let him know we love him.”

“You love me?” Lucky asked sleepily.

“Yes,” Thorn said immediately.

“You’d better believe it,” Cain replied as he stroked Lucky’s cheek. “I think it’s high time we started showing you that.”

“I called Liam, he’s going to run the shop for the next week,” Thorn explained.

“And what are we going to be doing?” Cain asked.

“Well, I thought today we could take Lucky to Raleigh, I um, found out that Charlie Wade is playing at the amphitheater, figured we could go find some shit to see in the city, have a nice dinner and go catch the show.”

“Do you really think that’s what he needs?” Cain asked skeptically. “We need to talk about what happened, we need to get him help so it doesn’t happen again. We need to…”

“Fuck yeah, I wanna go,” Lucky said, having rolled so he could cast a glance at Thorn over his shoulder.

Cain drew back and studied him intensely and Lucky rolled back to face him and gave him a sad smile.

“I wasn’t trying to kill myself,” Lucky attempted to explain. “Yeah, I was gonna cut, I guess, maybe, I dunno, I’ve never done it before. I’ve never even thought about it, I just, I’d hit the mirror and it wasn’t enough, I thought about going out and getting into a fight, but I didn’t want to break a rule and I didn’t really want to get into trouble or break anything else in the house. Back at the compound I would have gone out and found a fight or someone to fuck, but here…”

“You needed to feel something to take away from what you were feeling,” Thorn said.

Lucky stiffened, then rolled over completely so he could face Thorn, who loosened his hold on him, a little uncertain, which was so unlike him, but he wasn’t sure where he stood with Lucky after last night. Lucky’s eyes were solemn and sad, but he gave Thorn a ghost of a smile.

“Yeah, that. How did you know?”

“Been there, kid, done that, been arrested for a shit ton of bar fights and back alley brawls trying to deal with ‘feelings.’” Thorn admitted, then caressed Lucky’s cheek. “I’m sorry about the way I handled things with you. It didn’t work, and even when I saw that it wasn’t working I kept trying to stay the course. That wasn’t fair to you.”

“I’m sorry too, I was a brat right from day one, and even when I wanted to reach out to you, I was too afraid to do it. Guess neither one of us is good at that, huh, or talking,” Lucky replied.

“Yeah, lucky me, I get saddled with two emotionally stunted dicks,” Cain muttered.

“Hey, my dick’s not stunted in any way,” Thorn remarked lasciviously.

“Well, keep it in your pants, at least for now, you set off trying to prove it and we’ll never make it to Raleigh.”

Thorn chuckled low and pulled Lucky flush against him, hugging him tight and kissing the top of his head.

“He’s right,” he murmured in Lucky’s hair. “If I whip it out, none of us are leaving this bed for the rest of the day, so what’s it gonna be, Lucky Strike? A day in bed or a day in the city?”

***

Lucky was silent, stunned that he was even getting a choice let alone such a promising one. His mind was still tripping over the fact that they’d told him they loved him and that Thorn didn’t want to send him away. He was kinda blown away by Thorn knowing who Charlie Wade was or even how much Lucky liked him. It was all just a little much to process at the moment. He hadn’t realized that Thorn had been paying any attention to him at all, let alone what kind of music he liked to listen to.

They’d gone silent, waiting for his answer and Lucky suddenly had an interesting thought.

“You said we have all week off from work, right?”

“Yeah,” Thorn replied.

“Then let’s go to the city tonight, race go carts, eat something none of us has to cook, and see Charlie play, get a hotel room and then come back here in the morning and spend tomorrow in bed, and maybe the next day too.”

Cain’s eyes met Thorn’s over the top of Lucky’s head.

“I don’t think fucking like rabbits is the answer for all the shit that’s been going on,” Cain declared.

“Don’t overthink,” Thorn cautioned. “Sometimes, it’s the only answer.”

“Someone’s got to do the thinking around here,” Cain muttered. “At least with something besides their cock.”

Lucky rolled over again, so he could frame Cain’s face with his hands and stare him in the eye. “I wasn’t gonna kill myself. I’m not even sure if I was gonna hurt myself, the glass wasn’t even touching my arm. I tried coming to talk to you. I knew I needed to talk, that I needed to not be stuck in my head. I fucked up. I’ll talk about it if you want me to, but I’d rather go do something fun with you guys. That’s all I’ve wanted to do for weeks now; just start over like you offered, but I was being just as stubborn as Thorn. I didn’t wanna back down and forgive him. I should have, then maybe it wouldn’t be a question of if we were going, but how soon. Please, Cain, can we just talk about it later and go?”

Cain saw the earnestness in Lucky’s expression, the hurt that still lingered, and the hope too. It dawned on him that Lucky wasn’t just asking because he wanted to see Charlie play, he was asking because he needed the diversion. What had happened was too raw and so were the memories. He was counting on them to make things feel okay again and maybe even to help him escape himself for a little while.

“Okay,” Cain said as he leaned in and touched his forehead to Lucky’s. Silent understanding passed between them before Cain moved away.

“Well then what are we waiting on?” Thorn asked as he rolled out of the bed. “Showers and food, people, get your asses in gear and get those overnight bags packed. I gotta call Liam and have him pick up Roscoe when he gets done at the shop.”

Everyone moved, packing, showering, dressing in warm layers and sitting to a quick meal. When they were done, they took Roscoe out, got him settled with extra food and treats to tide him over until Liam came for him. Lucky gave him a large doggy bone to chew on and rubbed his ears, Roscoe rewarding him with several happy licks to the face.

***

“Ready?” Cain asked, beginning to get into the spirit of things and more than just a little excited to see Lucky having fun. Something told him that smiling and laughing, he’d be breathtaking.

“Yeah,” Lucky said as he straightened up and turned around. He’d tied his hair back and it emphasized his bright, expressive eyes even more. Cain could still see the sadness lingering in them, but there was light there too, and hints of happiness.

“Wait,” Thorn said as he stepped in front of Lucky. “There’s something I’ve been dying to do.”

And with that, he pulled Lucky into a fierce, passionate kiss. At first, Lucky stiffened, his hands limp at his sides, then he moaned, loudly, and melted into the kiss. His fists grabbed hold of Thorn’s leather jacket and he kissed back just as wildly. It drew a rough groan from Thorn who grabbed Lucky’s ass and rocked their lower bodies together. Lucky responded back with a whine, hands gipping Thorn’s hair as their tongues clashed.

“Uhhhh,” Lucky moaned as he broke the kiss, his head dipping back, exposing his throat which Thorn took quick advantage of nipping and licking.

Cain groaned as he watched the fireworks. He’d known it was going to be explosive when Thorn and Lucky came together, but this…

Lucky had one hand on Thorn’s shoulder and the other gripping one of his belt loops and he was grinding their lower bodies together as Thorn marked his throat. Lucky’s eyes were closed and the soft groans he was making were punctuated by low growls from Thorn. The hand on Thorn’s shoulder trailed downward, then there were Lucky’s fingers, trying to unzip Thorn’s jacket while Thorn was palming Lucky’s erection through his jeans. Cain heard the sound of a zipper opening and decided he’d better step in or they’d never leave. He strode over to them and stilled Thorn’s hand on Lucky’s fly.

“We’ll never make it to Raleigh if this goes any further,” Cain said, groaning when Thorn leaned and nipped the spot behind his ear while Lucky trailed fingertips down his cheek.

“Not. Fair,” Cain whined when Lucky kissed his neck. “Bikes, now, dammit, and we can continue this in the hotel room tonight.”

Thorn nuzzled the right side of his neck, biting lower, near his shoulder, pushing his face between the material of his jacket and Cain’s flesh to try and reach more skin. The bite he gave Cain was possessive and eager and Cain understood the intent, wondering what Lucky would think about Thorn’s love of marking his partners.

Cain shivered at the feel of cool air on his skin. Lucky had managed to get his jacket open and had jerked up his shirt. He felt hands on his chest, and then a wet tongue sliding over his abs. He looked down to see Lucky on his knees, looking up at him with his tongue wetting his bottom lip and it almost sent all of his good intentions flying out the window.

With a rough groan, he wrenched himself away from Lucky and Thorn, panting as he fixed his clothes. When he looked at them, they were both smiling. Lucky’s was still dark, shadowed, but with persistence, they’d erase some of that over the course of the upcoming week. Thorn’s didn’t quite reach his eyes, either, and Cain knew him well enough to know that he would be beating himself up over turning Lucky away from their door for a long time to come.

Still, Cain had every intention of having a serious talk with Lucky at the end of the week to assess whether or not they needed to find someone who could offer him some professional help in dealing with the deaths of his fathers. If Thorn hadn’t followed, Cain shuddered to think of what this morning could have been like. Maybe Lucky hadn’t intended to really hurt himself, but it was easy to go too far. Cain knew people who had done it. He wasn’t willing to risk that happening to Lucky. Whether Lucky or Thorn agreed, he was going to talk to Mark still, just to see what needed to be done to smooth over any ruffled feathers that still remained over the ink. Lucky needed his family, his club and his past as much as he needed the future that he and Thorn wanted to give him.

“Get out of your head,” Thorn said, his words breaking in on Cain’s thoughts.

He blinked and realized that Lucky was already straddling his bike and both of them had fixed the dishevelment of their clothing to look presentable again. “Trying to,” Cain muttered.

“Try harder,” Thorn instructed that old air of authority back in his voice.

Cain closed his eyes and let the gruff voice wash over him and sink into his mind.

“Focus on today, only today.”

Cain nodded, took a few calming breaths and then opened his eyes again.

“You good?” Thorn asked.

“Yes, Sir,” Cain replied. It was instant, automatic, taking him back to the days when he and Thorn first came together. The way Thorn had always been able to keep him grounded and out of trouble, at least for the most part. Cain knew he’d had his stubborn moments too, but they’d made it work.

Thorn’s rough chuckle sent a shiver down Cain’s back. “Sir, huh,” Thorn muttered low. “It’s been awhile for that, now hasn’t it?”

“Too long,” Cain muttered, his voice having taken on a low, almost desperate plea.

***

“Something tells me I’m going to have all that I can handle tonight,” Thorn replied, eyes darting to Lucky as he watched them. There was heat and desire in the other man’s eyes and Thorn very nearly canceled the trip and hauled them both into the bedroom.

CHAPTER TWENTY

The ride in to Raleigh was chilly. Halfway there, Thorn cursed himself for not suggesting they take the SUV, as even with layers on it was unseasonably cool for this time of year. Still, the scenery was as beautiful as ever and he hated having to ride in a cage.

A quick glance over at Lucky showed he was handling the ride well, and Thorn chuckled to himself as he wondered how many layers he’d have to peel off to get to skin. No matter what he had to do, he vowed to make this a wonderful trip for all of them, start repairing some of the damage he’d done in keeping the truth from Lucky.

He shuddered every time he allowed his mind to wander back to the night before. His mistake and what it could have cost them. He’d wanted Lucky to fold, to give in and allow him to lay down the rules, give him structure and make sure he stayed safe. He’d wanted him pliant, obedient, but he’d forgotten the first and most important thing, and done nothing to give Lucky a reason to put that trust and faith in him.

The closer they got the city, the more Thorn’s plans fell into place. Hotel first, they could get their things dropped off, shower and warm themselves some before deciding on dinner. As for the meal, he knew just the perfect seafood and soul place to take them too. Great food and no pretenses, they’d be able to eat, talk and mellow out before the show.

As for Lucky’s request to race go-carts, he’d have to check the yellow pages for that, best to plan on going before dinner, if they didn’t have an appetite by then they’d be sure to have one by the time they got through. It was an interesting request, that was for certain, and as they reached the outskirts of the city, Thorn couldn’t help but wonder if there was some specific reason behind it. Maybe in the right moment, he might be willing to tell them.

As they pulled up in front of a hotel Thorn had stayed at several times before, he couldn’t help but feel as if they were in for one amazing evening.

***

“Are you serious!” Thorn growled, pushing down harder on the gas pedal of the go-cart as Cain surged past him a second time. Lucky was already way ahead of them, much as he’d been the last race.

“Problems, Thorn?” Cain yelled back over his shoulder.

“You just wait until I catch you!”

“Don’t you mean if you catch me? Which you won’t!”

“Come on, old man, keep up!” Lucky yelled from across the track.

“Think he’s talking to me, or to you?” Cain yelled at Thorn.

“You!” Thorn hollered back, then cursed as he slammed his go-cart into yet another hay bale.

“Yeah, cause there’s no chance of you keeping up,” Cain replied, laughter trailing behind him as he left Thorn in the dust.

“Son of a bitch!” Thorn yelled, laughing as he slammed it in reverse, gave it too much gas, and shot backwards across the track, hitting a second set of bales. Lucky shot past him, lapping him for a second time, Cain close on his heels and Thorn just threw his hands up, laughing as Cain tried to catch Lucky.

“Think we should have stopped to help a senior citizen out?” Lucky joked to Cain.

“Naa, if all else fails, he’s got his cane.”

“Okay, that’s it!” Thorn bellowed, hitting the gas with renewed determination. He gave chase, not even caring how many laps behind he was, just wanting to catch up to them and pass them once before they were done. With gritted teeth he maneuvered around the first turn, hit the straight away and pressed the gas pedal all the way down, looking for an inside track to pass Cain and ending up waiting too long to slow down, he passed him all right, and went careening into the grass, the go-cart spinning round and round before slamming into the side of yet another bale of hay.

Dust settled over him and Thorn sneezed as Lucky crossed the finish line with a triumphant yell, quickly followed by Cain.

It was no use, Thorn had no choice but to shake his head and admit defeat, then drive very carefully over to join them.

“One more race?” Lucky asked, a big grin making his eyes light up even more.

“Sure, one more race, just rub it in how out of practice I am,” Thorn replied, but he was laughing as he got them lined back up again, and despite the fact that he lost that race too, he was still smiling in the end to see how happy it had made Lucky.

Still, he never expected the tight hug he received as they headed back to the bikes.

“Thank you,” Lucky murmured against his chest.

Thorn stroked a hand down his back and held him tighter. “It was fun. Been awhile since I’ve done that.”

“My dads would bring me whenever we came to the city. It was always something we loved to do together. Hadn’t been back in a while though, not for at least a year before the Old Man got sick. We had all just gotten too busy.”

“I know how that is,” Thorn replied. “My old man and I used to camp out constantly when I was growing up. Any time we could get away from the city we’d pack the tents and fishing poles and head for the woods. Nothing like cooking over an open campfire.”

“No, there isn’t,” Lucky said softly. “My Pops loved camping too.”

“Come spring we should go,” Cain added as he wrapped his arms around both of them. “I’ve never been.”

“What, never?” Lucky asked, drawing back from Thorn.

Thorn turned to study Cain, knowing that with his upbringing, a trip to the woods would never have come up.

“Nope, couldn’t picture my father trying to pitch a tent. I’m pretty certain it would have been a disaster.”

“Damn. Then we have to go,” Lucky said excitedly.

Thorn nodded. In all the years that he and Cain had been together it had never occurred to him to suggest that they go. Of course, that had a great deal to do with the fact that he tended to avoid anything that reminded him of the past he’d left behind.

“That settles it then,” a grinning Cain stated exuberantly. “Come spring, we’re going camping.”

“Yeah,” Thorn laughed. “We’re going camping. But for now, we’d better go eat. I don’t know about you guys, but I’m starved and something tells me, I’m going to need all the energy I can get tonight.”

Before the night was over he’d come to realize just how true those words would prove to be. At dinner, Lucky was nothing like the silent, sullen young man he’d always seemed around the table at the house. Here, he was interested and engaging, asking questions and laughing easily with both him and Cain. It had been amazing, finally having what he and Cain had been wanting for so long. Lucky on a date with them, learning about one another, having a good time and sending smoldering looks at one another across the table.

The music had been pretty amazing too. The guitar playing rich and harmonic, the singer’s voice that whiskey heavy bluesy sound. Feet had tapped and hands had clapped along to the more upbeat numbers, while the slower stuff had been cause for introspection. In that time, Thorn came to realize how close he’d come to costing himself this moment, and so many potential ones like it.

That night, when they arrived at the hotel, Thorn sat in the chair in the corner, the smell of smoke wafting off his clothes and hair. Attached to the casino, there had been smoking in the club, and now he wanted nothing more than for them all to get clean, so they could get dirty again.

“I’m going to order room service,” Thorn declared, as he reached for the phone. “Who wants what? They’ve got wings, sandwiches, burgers, steaks?”

“Wings, please, sir,” Lucky said softly. He was hanging back, leaning against the wall, trying to reign nonchalance, which would have annoyed Thorn to no end just a few weeks before, but now, he could see the hesitation and uncertainty in Lucky’s stance.

“You know I’ll take a burger and mozzarella sticks if they’ve got ‘em,” Cain remarked.

Thorn nodded, but never took his eyes off Lucky as he placed the call. As soon as he hung up, he held his hand out to Lucky.

“Come sit with me while Cain takes a shower, we all need one, but if we don’t take them one at a time we’ll never get to what I have planned. Not to mention, it’d be cramped as hell.”

Lucky cracked a small smile at that and came forward, perching on the edge of the chair until Thorn tugged him into his lap and wrapped his arms around him, effectively securing Lucky there. He kissed the top of Lucky’s head as Cain gathered up his toiletries and headed for the bathroom.

“You’re in your head a little deep right now,” Thorn remarked once he was gone. “Please tell me what you’re thinking about?”

Lucky nuzzled closer, slotting his face beneath Thorn’s chin and inhaling deep enough that Thorn could feel it. Slowly, he began rubbing circles on Lucky’s back, waiting him out, beginning to understand what Mark had been trying to tell him.

“I loved the show, b-but some of the songs…I’m sorry, I’m glad we went, I am, please don’t think I’m being ungrateful, I’m not, I just…”

“Shhhh” Thorn silenced him, bringing his free hand up to caress Lucky’s cheek. “I know you’re not. Music packs feelings, hits you in your gut. Takes you back places you miss. It’s all good Lucky, all good. We can talk about it more if you want, or you can let me take you out of your head tonight and we can talk about it at home. Your choice, it’s always your choice.”

“You mean that?” Lucky asked softly.

Startled by the question, Thorn sat him up, keeping a firm hold on him but wanting to see his face. “Has someone told you different?”

When Lucky ducked his head, Thorn lifted his face back up, gently, searching his gaze.

“I didn’t always like what was happening,” Lucky murmured.

“With us?”

Lucky shook his head vehemently. “No. I loved everything you guys ever did with me. But…”

“The guy with the camera,” Thorn supplied, making a conscious effort not to tighten his grip and hurt Lucky as anger coursed through him.

“Yeah.”

Stroking Lucky’s cheek, Thorn let his fingertips tease the soft strands of blond hair that framed Lucky’s face. “It is always your choice if we play, or if we don’t and what we do when we’re playing. You always have the right to say no, before or during. You always have the right to tell us to slow down, or to change up, and I’m going to insist that you tell us if something hurts or feels uncomfortable, because I might not be able to read your body language. Do you understand?”

Lucky took a moment, like he was letting it all sink in, which was good, because Thorn wanted to be certain of that over anything else.

“Yes, Sir,” Lucky said after almost a minute of silence.

“Good. It’s very important you never forget that.”

“You won’t…You and Cain, you’re not gonna share me right?”

Thorn chuckled and held him close.

“Hell no, possessive bastard that I am, I’d be more likely to rip someone’s arm off for grabbing your ass than to offer it to them. If it’s something you really think you’d want, then we’d have to have some serious discussions about it and set a bunch of parameters and no way would I let you to them alone.”

“No, I, I don’t want to be shared at all,” Lucky said. “I only want to belong to you and Cain.”

Thorn huffed and felt the tension in his shoulders ease.

“Are you okay?”

Opening his eyes, Thorn found himself nose to nose with Lucky, who was studying him intently. Funny, but he hadn’t even realized he’d closed them in anticipation of Lucky’s answer, scared he still wanted to leave them and head off somewhere.

“The idea of you with someone else makes me want to hit something,” Thorn remarked.

He watched Lucky’s eyes widen a fraction, a small smile crossing his lips before he leaned in, slanting his head so he could brush a kiss across Thorns lips. His fingers slid into Lucky’s hair but he held still, letting Lucky guide the kiss until he pressed deeper, all lips and tongue and soft moans that twisted up Thorn’s insides and made him want to wrap Lucky in bubble wrap and never allow him to be hurt again.

“Mine,” Thorn moaned gruffly, cock hardening in his pants when Lucky shuddered against him and let out a soft sigh.

“Yours.”

“Ours,” Cain remarked from the doorway, towel wrapped around his waist. He let it fall as he approached them and knelt on the floor between Thorn’s legs, one hand running up Lucky’s back, the other over Thorn’s thigh. Thorn watched as Cain pressed his cheek against Lucky’s back and closed his eyes, features softening to reveal the vulnerability Thorn had always known was there. He slid one hand off Lucky and into Cain’s hair, stroking it before rubbing his shoulder.

“Lucky, can you get in the shower now,” he asked a few minutes later.

“Yes, Sir,” Lucky replied, and Thorn was glad to hear that there was no longer any trepidation in his responses. There would likely be plenty more to discuss, later, but it seemed like one major hurtle had been passed.

“Cain, you gotta let him go,” Thorn urged, chuckling when Cain just whined in response and pressed in a little tighter.

Thorn put the edge of authority back in his voice when he spoke next, sharp, but not sharp enough to break the moment. “Cain.” He’d stopped stroking his longtime lover, and instead had wrapped Cain’s hair around his hand and pulled, gentle, but persistent. It had been a long time since he’d seen that look in Cain’s eyes, desperate, needy, scared, pleading.

“Get in the bed,” Thorn instructed. “Lucky is going to get in the shower and I’m going to get things ready. Room service will be here any minute, we’re going to eat a little before we play, I don’t want either of you crashing on me.”

“Yes, Sir,” Cain replied, already starting to squirm backwards. Before he let him go, Thorn leaned over Lucky’s shoulder and gave Cain a searing kiss.

“Don’t worry, I’ll give you everything you need tonight,” Thorn promised. “Both of you.”

Cain shivered, and finally let go of Lucky, allowing him to stand and get his things, and head to the bathroom.

“Is he okay?” Cain asked, laying his head on Thorn’s knee.

“Yeah, he is, for the moment. It’s all good. Go on, get in bed, let it all go for tonight.”

Cain sighed, but did as he was told, propping the pillows against the headboard so he could sit up, blankets pulled over his lap, while Thorn retrieved his bag, and cleared off the end table so he could lay out a few things. He was almost done by the time room service arrived, and he made quick work of tipping the porter and bringing in the food.

Placing Lucky’s on the dresser, before passing Cain his, Thorn made sure the do not disturb sign was hanging from the knob and the door was locked before he settled back in the chair with his. Every now and again he’d catch Cain glancing over at the end table, licking his lips and squirming a little.

“See something you like?”

“Mmmmm,” Cain remarked around a mouthful of food.

Thorn chuckled low. “What was that?”

“Yes, Sir,” Cain remarked once he’d swallowed.

Thorn took note of the breathy sound of his words and chuckled again. “Tell me.”

“The plug,” Cain remarked, gesturing towards a tapered metal butt plug about five inches long that was designed so that the widest part was actually in the middle.

“I see.” Thorn remarked, popping a fry in his mouth. “And just who do you think I should use it on. You, or Lucky?”

Cain licked his lips and Thorn could practically see the wheels turning in his mind.

“Me,” Cain said at last.

“Really,” Thorn remarked. “And don’t you think that might be just a little bit greedy.”

His nostrils flared and Thorn watched as Cain shifted from licking his lip to nibbling it.

“A little, but fuck, Thorn, I need…”

Thorn chuckled and shoved his food aside to crawl up on the bed and kiss him, one hand slipping beneath the sheets to stroke over him, a little rough, just the way he knew Cain liked it.

“Then it’s yours,” Thorn told him when he pulled back, hand already reaching for the dispenser of lube on the bedside table. He made quick work of lubing his fingers and stretching Cain before sliding the plug inside of him, watching as his lover’s eyes drifted closed, mouth half open as a low, needy moan escaped.

“God that’s hot.”

Thorn glanced over his shoulder to see Lucky standing in the doorway, in a pair of sleep pants, his hair damp and clinging to bare shoulders.

“It’s going to get a lot hotter in just a little while,” Thorn promised as he backed off the bed. “For now, your food is on the dresser, go ahead and eat and then you can join Cain in the bed.”

“Yes, Sir,” Lucky replied, heading for the dresser even as Thorn headed into the bathroom with his things.

As soon as he shut the door behind him, he blew out a breath, reining in his own desire. He’d dreamed of what lay on the other side of that door for so long, and now that it was a reality, he longed to give them everything he could tonight. What he hadn’t expected was for Cain to slip back into his old role and want to be taken down too. It would be a challenge, making sure he gave them both what they needed, but one he was up to, he thought as he stepped beneath the spray.

***

It was hard to focus on eating. The only way he could do as he was told was not look over at Cain who was sprawled naked on the bed, his half empty plate on the end table on the other side of him. The end of the metal plug could be seen clearly between his spread legs and his cock stood up proudly, making Lucky want to taste it instead of his wings. Hell, he could hardly taste the wings as he hastily polished them off. His heart was pounding with anticipation and he wanted to taste something else, and hoped Cain would let him.

Finishing the last one, he made quick work of cleaning his fingers and lips with the wet wipes provided, before dropping the cover over the plate with the bones. Turning, he felt his cheeks heat up when he caught sight of Cain watching him while stroking his coco, a bead of precum leaking from the tip.

“C-can I touch?” Lucky asked.

“Please,” Cain groaned.

Crawling between his legs, Lucky kissed the side of his knee and worked his way up Cain’s thigh, licking, kissing, nuzzling and sucking small marks into the flesh, getting and closer and closer to his target. Flicking his tongue out, he tickled Cain’s balls, drawing a ragged groan from the other man. Nuzzling, sucking on one nut, then the other, he let his fingertips brush lightly against the end of the plug, shifting it with a tiny nudge that drew a whine from Cain.

“Fuckin’ tease,” Cain sighed, but Lucky could tell from the tone in his voice that he wasn’t mad.

He licked the underside of Cain’s cock, working his way to the top, kissing it, then blowing warm air across the slit ad he nudged the plug again.

“Christ.”

Lucky froze at hearing Thorn behind him and started to sit up, until a cool hand pressed down in the center of his back and Thorn nipped his ear.

“No, you stay just like that. Holy fuck. Don’t you dare more, just keep on licking him.”

“Yes, Sir,” Lucky breathed across Cain’s cock, making him shiver as Lucky went back to what he’d been doing. Lapping lightly at the hard, weeping cock, kissing and lightly sucking the top before working his way down to suck one of Cain’s balls in his mouth again. Another nudge to the plug drew a groan from Cain, and then Lucky was groaning, as Thorn bit the juncture between his neck and shoulder, the sharp pain soothed by the feel of Thorn’s tongue lapping over it.

“You were a very naughty pair, starting without me,” Thorn growled, right in Lucky’s ear.

Lucky shivered, hummed and murmured “Yes, Sir,” against Cain’s thigh, pressing against the plug as he did.

“You’re damn right we were, sir,” Cain snarked back, shifting and sighing as Lucky pressed against the plug again. “You’re gonna have to punish us.”

“Maybe I’ll punish him and forget about punishing you,” Thorn responded. “Since you’re trying to lay there and tell me how to do my job.”

“I…” Cain gasped.

“Are you going to tell me that’s not what you were doing?” Thorn asked.

Cain groaned, a long trail of sound as Lucky chose just that moment to suck him down to the root and hum.

Chuckling, Thorn placed a hand on the back of Lucky’s head and guided his movements using Lucky’s hair, a fact that drew a whine and another long humming noise from Lucky.

“I’d forgotten he had no gag reflex,” Thorn remarked.

“I hadn’t,” Cain gasped.

Lucky could feel him trying to shift beneath him, trying to drive his hips up to get his cock even deeper into Lucky’s throat, but unable to get the leverage to do so with Thorn pressed against them both.

“I am going to have to punish you,” Thorn remarked, back in Lucky’s ear again. “but I’ll let you pick, hand, or brush.”

“You told,” Lucky murmured to Cain, who laughed a little, then gasped when Lucky shifted the plug inside him several times in a row.

“Answer the question,” Thorn remarked, hand already caressing over Lucky’s backside.

“Hand, sir,” Lucky replied, having no time at all to brace himself before the first smack came.

He gasped, and felt Cain’s arms wrapping around him, holding him in place as Thorn delivered a sound spanking. Even with Cain’s strong arms around him, Lucky writhed, twisting and rocking his hips against Cain’s groin, making him hiss and moan.

“Oh fuck, feels good,” Cain bit out as Thorn spanked Lucky again.

Lucky felt his breathing hitch, as fireworks of pain and pleasure spread outward from Thorn’s palm caressing the welts he’d left. Thorn pinched one and Lucky gasped.

“More,” he begged, wiggling, a tear slipping out of the corner of his eye and rolling down his cheek. “More, more, please, Thorn, please, m-more!”

Another smack, harder this time, Lucky rubbed against Cain, shamelessly seeing friction as everything got a little brighter, a little hotter. Three smacks in succession, Lucky gasped, then cried out as Thorn spanked him on final time.

Shaking, needy, he wiggled, moving up to straddle Cain’s hips, tears streaming down his cheeks as he kissed the other man. He could feel Thorn’s hands still moving over the welts, parting his overheated cheeks, and then his tongue was there, licking over him, making Lucky squirm with a whole different sort of sensation.

***

Thorn gave one final lick, then slid a hand between Cain and Lucky, feeling how hard they both were. In this position, there were so many possibilities. Reaching for the lube on the stand and a neon green dildo, he quickly spread a few pumps over the silicone toy, slicking it completely. It was easy to slip the plug out of Cain and replace it with the toy, sliding it in a little at a time, then pulling back, slowly fucking him with it while he and Lucky made out.

He knew he’d found just the spot when Cain let out a long, keening sound and growled. Chuckling, Thorn turned it on vibrate, and soaked his fingers with lube, teasing along Lucky’s opening before breaching him with the first finger, his gasp, echoing through the room.

Thorn watched as their kisses grew wilder and even more out of control, their hands tangled in each other’s hair, their lower bodies rocking against one another, slick with precum. Making short work of fingering Lucky open, he soon sheathed his cock in Lucky’s pliant, willing body, his groan and the way his body trembled as Thorn entered, inch by inch, making Thorn have to pause a moment and collect himself before he came too soon.

With one hand on the center of Lucky’s back he held him down, while he found the vibrator with his other hand, and slowly began fucking Cain with it, long, deep strokes, the same as he gave Lucky when he began to move. Taking his time, increasing the intensity but not the speed of his thrusts, enjoying the feel of both of them squirming beneath him.

“T-Thorn,” Cain cried out, his voice sounding wrecked.

Thorn slowed the thrusts of the dildo, and eased it out, turned up the vibrations and pressed it in, slow and steady, loving the way Cain gripped Lucky tighter and writhed beneath him. Lucky whimpered, and Thorn thrust into him hard, feeling him shake a little.

Wrapping his fist around Lucky’s hair, he pulled his head back just enough to get him to brace himself on his arms as he fucked into him slow and hard while continuing to thrust the vibrator into Cain, who begged and begged, until his body went rigid, a ragged shout torn from his throat as he came. Thorn used the dildo to fuck him through it, then turned the vibrations on low, leaving it in Cain as he turned all of his attention towards Lucky.

Gripping Lucky’s hair with both hand, Thorn pulled him backwards, until he was sitting in Thorn’s lap, fucking himself on Thorn’s cock as he gasped and groaned. Thorn’s hand found one of his nipple rings, twisting, tugging, loving the way Lucky’s gasps became desperate cries as he moved faster.

Biting down on the juncture between Lucky’s shoulder and neck, Thorn gave the ring one last, hard tug, and Lucky choked out a sob, shuddering and crying out as he came, his body shaking in Thorn’s arms. Thorn pushed him cheek first against the comforter, his body half sprawled over Cain’s leg. The position allowing Thorn to keep fucking him, harder, deeper, seeking his own pleasure in Lucky’s over stimulated body, while Lucky cried out from beneath him, begging him not to stop.

And he didn’t. Instead he set a brutal pace, one hand still tightly tangled in Lucky’s hair as he fucked him until Lucky’s body went rigid and he shook, gasping growls spilling from his lips, body tightening around Thorn until he found his own completion, buried deep inside him.

Everything faded then, thought, sound, his vision narrowed to white light and flashes of red. It took time to slowly come back to himself, even longer for his breathing to slow. When he moved it was gentle, uncoiling his fingers first, stroking them over Lucky’s back, then bracing them on Lucky’s hip as he slowly pulled out.

Lucky’s whole body quivered as he did, and Thorn had a desperate need to see his eyes. He could see Cain’s, watching him with need shining hot and bright, his cock standing at attention once again. Thorn stroked a hand over his leg, gripping it for a moment, before returning his focus to Lucky. Lifting him, he turned him a little, saw that his eyes was open, bright, brilliant Sapphire that looked dazed and a million miles away. His pupils were dilated, but he responded with a shudder or a whine to every gentle touch Thorn bestowed.

Laying him beside Cain, Thorn watched as Lucky fumbled to curled against him, nuzzling and letting out small, half-whimpered groans. He’d looked so stunningly fucked out and boneless clinging to Cain that Thorn knew he’d never forget the site, wishing to commit every feature to memory. And to think, their night had only just begun.

***

“Lucky did you spike the eggnog, again?”

“Yeah, how else are we supposed to drink it?”

“How else indeed,” Thorn muttered from where he sat drinking a glass of the stuff while Lucky fiddled with the tree. For some reason, he seemed to take great pleasure in arranging the ornaments just so, and neither he nor Cain had felt like making him stop.

“I’d already spiked it!” Cain yelled back from the kitchen.

“Not nearly enough,” Lucky and Thorn replied simultaneously, then glanced at one another and laughed.

Cain emerged from the kitchen, grumbling. “You’re not funny,” he muttered as he looked between the two. “Neither of you.”

“Nope, but we’re not sober either,” Thorn pointed out.

Cain set the eggnog down on the end table and stood admiring the tree as Lucky finished adding the tinsel, when Lucky stepped back, Cain slid his arm around him and Lucky tilted his head to rest against Cain’s shoulder. It was such a heartfelt moment that Thorn wished he had a camera nearby, but he couldn’t even remember where they’d shoved the one Cain bought but barely used.

Thorn took another drink of eggnog and wished Lucky had dumped even more rum in than he had. Despite how festive the house looked and the rare snow falling outside the window, his heart felt heavy tonight.

Sighing, he reached for the bottle of rum and added a liberal amount to the glass, then chugged it down in one swallow.

“Hey.”

Thorn looked up to see Cain nudging him with his knee, trying to get him to scoot over while watching him with concerned eyes, a hesitant Lucky looking on as Cain slotted himself in the space Thorn vacated and leaned into his side.

“Hey yourself.”

“Why do you look like someone just ran over your bike?”

Thorn heaved a heavy sigh and reached his hand out to Lucky, grateful when he dropped onto the couch and sprawled in that way of his with his head on Thorn’s lap and his fingertips tracing lazy patterns into the denim of Thorn’s jeans. Thorn rested his hand on Lucky’s head, still a little shocked at how calming it was to stroke his hair and hear Lucky’s contented sighs.

“I’m a lucky man, to have found you both,” Thorn explained. “Nights like tonight though, I wish I had understood that much sooner.”

“What do you mean?” Lucky asked as he rubbed gentle circles on Thorn’s knee.

Thorn sighed and took another drink. “Being a hothead almost cost me moments like this one. It did cost me my childhood home and the only parent I had left.”

Lucky went to sit up a little, but Thorn pressed a hand against his shoulder, holding him in place.

“When did he die?” Lucky asked as he relaxed back across Thorn’s lap.

“That’s the shit part of it all. He’s not dead.”

“Then you haven’t lost him,” Lucky said softly.

“Maybe,” Thorn replied as he resumed stroking Lucky’s hair. “Not sure how to bridge a seventeen-year gap. It’s not as if I can just pick up the phone and call him.”

“Why not?” Cain asked.

“Not something I want to do over the phone. Face to face I was a bastard, I gotta make up for that face to face as well.”

Lucky stroked a hand down his leg and seemed to melt into his caresses. “What happened?”

“He got remarried after my mother passed away. Seven years after, but it pissed me off that the woman he was marrying was so completely different from how my mom had been. You could say I was an asshole to his new fiancé and when he married her I had quite a few unkind things to say. About three weeks after they married I took off, and it wasn’t pretty.”

“And you never went back?” Lucky asked.

“Nope.”

“Was she really that bad, that you’d ditch your Pops over her?”

Thorn sighed heavily, his hand stilling on Lucky’s head. “No, I don’t know, never gave myself a chance to get to know her. I know they’re still together though.”

“How?”

“I call up there once a month, check in on him, make sure he isn’t sick or needing anything. I’ve got an old friend who keeps an eye on things for me.”

Lucky reached up and caught Thorn’s hand and tugged it around his body, hugging it. “Are they happy?”

“According to my buddy, they seem to be. He says they decorate for every holiday, take part in the winter bizarre, and that the old man traded his roadster in for a trike and they’re on it constantly. It’s funny, never would have pictured her for a bike lover.”

“Maybe she came to love it because he loved it and she loved him,” Lucky suggested softly.

Thorn snorted, then leaned down to hug Lucky tight. “Smart kid. I bet you’re right.”

Though Cain had been mostly silent, Thorn had been comforted by his steady presence and the fingers that were stroking his back.

“If you miss him and wanna make things right, why not take a road trip?” Cain suggested. “It’s the season for family and forgiveness and all that.”

“I’ve been thinking about it for the past few years,” Thorn admitted. “And this year more so then ever. I don’t want him to pass away thinking I hate him.”

“Then you should tell him that,” Lucky said softly. “I-I wish I knew if my Pops hated me when he died or if he’d really forgiven me for taking my old man down to the beach the night he died. It sucks that I’ll never get the chance to ask him. I wish I’d had the courage to do it when he was alive.”

Thorn’s hands tightened on Lucky and he had no words to try and make him feel better about the loss he’d sustained. All he could do was make sure that Lucky knew just how much he was loved and cherished and how sorry Thorn was for having put him through such a rough few months with them.

“I’d like to see him before another Christmas rolls past,” Thorn admitted.

“Then gas up the SUV and wash the dust off her and take a ride up to see him,” Cain suggested. “If you pack tonight, you can leave right after breakfast, Lucky and I can hold down things at the shop, especially now that business is slowing down and it’s getting too cold for anyone to be out in the water.”

“Yeah, but there’s still people coming in picking up boards and supplies as Christmas gifts, and Lucky’s got those two paint jobs to finish with a hard deadline of Christmas Eve.”

“And I’ll have them done,” Lucky assured him. “No worries. And I can help around the shop while the coats of paint are drying.”

“I don’t have any shaping to do right now, you know that, I won’t start making new boards until February,” Cain reminded him.

“What if I don’t want you guys to mind the shop,” Thorn said as he held them both tightly pressed to him. “What if I need you both to come with me?”

Thorn felt Lucky freeze on his lap, his fingers going still.

“Then we’ll go,” Cain declared, his tone leaving no room for argument, but still, Lucky didn’t relax at all.

“Lucky?” Thorn questioned, letting him sit up when he started to move. Lucky tucked himself into the corner of the couch, as far away from him and Cain as he could get and concern bloomed in Thorn’s mind.

“I—” Lucky stammered, trying to find proper words. “You guys have been together for a long time, I’m just an add on, I shouldn’t be going with you to meet family.”

Thorn’s heart constructed painfully, hearing Lucky refer to himself that way. He had a long way to go in making sure that Lucky understood that he was just as important to him as Cain. He knew it would take time, but leaving Lucky behind would be moving backwards instead of forward and Thorn wasn’t willing to do that.

“Look at me,” Thorn said, authority in his tone and Lucky’s head jerked up. “You and Cain are my family. I need you both with me.”

Thorn studied Lucky’s face, the widening of his eyes, the slight shimmer there before he nodded. He reached out to him and when Lucky took his hand he tugged him back into his arms, closing his eyes when Lucky curled against his side and rested his head on his shoulder. Thorn kissed the top of his head, then reached out for Cain, who pressed himself tight to his other side. For the longest time he just held them, his boys, the men he loved, hoping the trip wouldn’t be a complete disaster, but more than anything else, hoping that his father would find it in his heart to forgive him.

***

They left bright and early in the morning in the rarely used SUV that they kept in the garage for times when the weather was shit. Rainy season mostly, since it so very rarely snowed on the coast, though this year, they’d gotten a few inches. Raleigh had more, at least according to the weather reports and with the way the wind was whipping off the water it was not the time to even consider traveling on a bike. Thorn drove, since he knew where he was going, but mostly so he wouldn’t give in to anxiety.

Lucky sat in the back seat with Roscoe, the dog in his harness to keep him as safe as the human’s he traveled with. The pair was cuddled as close as they could get on the seat, Lucky’s eyes closed as he stroked the big Shepard’s fur.

“Warm enough?” Thorn asked them, as he fiddled with the heater.

“Yup,” Cain replied, reaching to turn the channel on the radio.

“Yes, Sir,” Lucky muttered sleepily.

Thorn shot Cain a grin. Lucky Strike wasn’t a morning person unless he had to be and at this moment, he seemed to be eagerly taking advantage of the fact that he didn’t want to be.

“It’s so good to see him happy,” Thorn remarked softly as he glanced at Lucky in the rearview mirror.

“Yeah, I can’t wait to see his face Christmas morning. You’re certain it’s not too soon.”

“Past due,” Thorn said, a fond smile brightening his features.

They fell into silence for the remainder of the trip, listening to an eclectic collection of twisted Christmas songs and classic rock. The closer they got to their destination, the tenser Thorn’s posture got, rigid and deeply reserved. Several times he caught Cain watching him out of the corner of his eye, but he couldn’t bring himself to even make a single gesture of reassurance.

It was hard for him to believe that he remembered every twist and turn leading up to the house, but he did. A cold, icy feeling settling in the pit of his stomach as he parked the car. His hands gripped the steering wheel and his eyes stared straight ahead at the lawn decorated with plastic snowmen wrapped in Christmas lights.

A pair of hands settled on his shoulders, lightly rubbing, he could feel Lucky’s breath on the back of his neck, and Cain’s hand, covering one of his on the wheel.

“You’ve got this,” Cain said softly. “We’re right here with you. Take a few deep breaths, nut up and go ring the doorbell.”

Thorn nodded and ran a hand through his hair. Would his father even recognize him, maybe he should have shaved off his beard and mustache. He took off his shades and tossed them on the dash, brushed back the long fringe of hair that hung over his eyes and shoved open the door, feeling Lucky and Cain’s hands fall away.

Without a backwards glance he headed up the drive to the front door and rang the bell, shoulders straight, standing tall as he waited for it to open. Nothing could have prepared him for coming face to face with the woman he’d always blamed for wrecking his home. In every scenario he’d run through his head on the drive up, his dad had been the one to answer. Now, standing there as she looked up at him, confusion and a touch of worry in her eyes, he found himself unable to say anything.

“Can I help you?” she asked, fingers gripping the door, eyes darting behind him to see who else was around.

“I came to see my father, is he home?”

Her eyes widened in shock and she pressed her hand to her mouth, for a moment, Thorn was afraid that she was going to slam the door in his face, then she smiled so bright it made all the winkles in her face deepen, and she pulled the door open wider.

“No, no he’s not, he ran to the store, I expect him back in twenty, thirty minutes tops, but please, come in, he’ll be overjoyed to see you.”

Now it was Thorn’s turn to feel off balance, and the thought of stepping into his childhood home was making his stomach flip flop.

“I’m um, not alone,” he stammered, taking a step back, wanting to bolt, but those words, her surety that his father would be happy to see him, pinned him in place.

“Please don’t leave.”

Shock froze him in place when she touched his arm, gentle, just her hand settling lightly on his leather jacket, but it was almost as if she’d trapped him in a vice.

“He’s missed you, so much, please, stay until he comes back. Tell your…”

She seemed to hesitate, unsure how to refer to the men he could see watching from the SUV.

“Family,” Thorn replied. “Lucky, Cain and our dog Roscoe.”

He waited to see her face twist up in revulsion, maybe he should have known better, his father would never have married a woman who wouldn’t have accepted him. He realized that as soon as she smiled again and told him to go get them.

It was almost surreal, walking back to the SUV, pulling the door open and seeing Lucky and Cain’s anxious, concerned faces and their hands reaching out to him.

“What happened?” Lucky asked softly.

“Did she tell you to leave?” Cain asked at almost the same time.

“No, she said my father was at the grocery store and asked us all to come in and wait.”

Twin deer in the headlights stares, unblinking and cautious, it was almost comical. Thorn watched as they both looked up toward the house to see his step-mother waiting there, wringing her hands together as she watched them. He still hadn’t even managed to recall her first name and yet here she was, inviting them into the house.

Thorn wondered how much of it was the same as it had been when he was growing up, and how much of the old furniture and stuff had been gotten rid of.

Lucky reached over to unharness Roscoe and clipped on his leash, leading him out to the nearest tree to take care of business.

“She said he’d want to see me,” Thorn told Cain, still having a hard time believing it.

“Don’t knock it, that’s what you came for.”

“Yeah,” Thorn replied, able to manage a hint of a smile as Cain climbed out. Roscoe was done, so the three of them returned to the door, Lucky keeping Roscoe close as they approached the older woman.

“This is Cain,” Thorn said by way of introduction, as he gestured to the man on his right. “And this is Lucky, and Roscoe.”

“It’s nice to meet you all,” she said, brushing the lingering trace of powdered sugar from her fingers to shake their hands.

“Nice to meet you too, ma’am,” Lucky said shyly.

“Please, call me Melony,” she replied, finally solving Thorn’s discomfort at not having remembered her name.

She ushered them in and Thorn froze, because the living room was almost the way he remembered. Some of the pictures had changed, most notably the ones of his mother had been put away, but the ones of Thorn, taken mostly while he was still in school, were still there on the mantle.

“Was that you?” Lucky asked, pointing to one of them. Thorn glanced over at the picture of him in a peewee football uniform and nodded.

“Yup, I think I was about ten.”

“You never told me you played football,” Cain remarked, going over to look at all of the pictures a little closer.

Thorn shrugged. “Guess it never came up.”

“How long did you play?” Lucky asked.

“Until my sophomore year of high school. Mom died the summer afterwards and I didn’t feel like playing anymore. Decided to focus on more solitary pursuits.”

Lucky turned toward him and grinned. “Like surfing?”

“Exactly.”

“Would you boys like some cocoa and cookies?” Melony asked as she stepped into the room, a platter laden with cookies and mugs in her hands. She set it down on the coffee table and they all dug in, praising the food.

“Where are you living now?” she asked Thorn as she took a seat in an easy chair that looked fairly new. Unlike the couch which had been there since Thorn was a kid. His old man used to fall asleep on it while watching TV. Guess he had loved it too much to ever part with it.

“Kill Devil Hills,” Thorn replied. “Been there for about two years, before that, we were in Beufort for a little over a decade.”

“You stayed near the water. He said you always loved being near the ocean.”

“How has he been?” Thorn asked as he picked up his mug.

“Why don’t you ask him yourself, boy.”

The booming voice caused Thorn to put the mug right back down, sloshing a little over the edge as his father stepped fully into the room. His once dark hair was now completely gray and he looked like he had a little padding around the middle, but not much. He was still as tall and broad in the shoulders as Thorn remembered, while the laugh lines around his eyes had deepened.

He was smiling brightly now, as Thorn crossed the room to stand in front of him, sticking out his hand in greeting only to have his father grab it and yank him into a tight, back slapping embrace. It was mind blowing to see that his strength hadn’t failed him.

“Missed you, boy, god damn have I missed you. Let me take a look at you.”

Thorn found himself at arm’s length with those shrewd eyes looking him over from head to toe.

“Your hair is shorter than I remember, it looks good on you, the beard too, you don’t look like a kid anymore. Put on some weight I see, must be eating good. Did you finally learn to cook or just find someone who didn’t mind cooking for you?”

“A little of both,” Thorn said with a happy grin.

“God, it’s so good to see you, Thornton,” his father said before pulling him back into another hug.

Thorn hugged him tightly and exhaled a shuddering breath, so very glad he’d come here today. They broke the hug reluctantly, and it was then that his father finally noticed the other two men on the couch and Roscoe.

“And who have you brought home with you?”

Cain stood, and Thorn saw the indecision in Lucky’s eyes before he stood too and crowded behind Cain.

“Dad, this is Cain O’Shaughnessy, my partner for the past fifteen years, and this is Lucky McAllister, our new partner, and this happy fellow here is Roscoe.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Phillips,” Cain said as he shook hands with Thorn’s father.

“You call me Richard, Mr. always makes me feel so old.”

“Yes, sir,” Cain said with a smile.

Richard raised an eyebrow and Cain’s smile just grew.

“Sir makes me feel even older,” he said, chuckling as Thorn drew Lucky out from behind Cain with a firm grip on his arm, grateful when Lucky came to him willingly.

“Nice to meet you, Lucky,” Richard said.

Thorn felt him relax as he reached out to shake hands too.

“Nice to meet you as well, Richard,” Lucky replied.

Richard turned to look at Thorn and gave him a nod of approval. “You’ve got a nice family here, son. Have a seat, all of you, tell me a bit about yourselves. Thorn, I want to hear all about what you’ve been up to.”

With soft Christmas music playing in the background, they all sat on the couch, Thorn in the middle of Cain and Lucky, Roscoe sprawled at their feet, filling Richard in on the lives they’d been leading, and listening to him tell Thorn everything he’d missed since being away. There was no awkwardness, no judgements, no accusations or bitter words, there were only tears of joy to greet Thorn’s apology and his admission to having missed his father terribly and wishing he’d never taken off. When they left the following morning, it was with hugs and promises to call frequently and visit as often as they could. Thorn hugged Melony tightly, and thanked her for taking such good care of his old man. As they walked back down the driveway toward the SUV, Thorn realized that only now did it feel like Christmas.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Sitting up in the darkness of the bedroom, sandwiched between Thorn and Cain, Lucky peered at the clock, trying to make out the numbers. Six-thirty, that was perfect, it would give him more than enough time as long as he could manage to sneak out of the room without waking Roscoe. First, though, he would have to manage to extract himself from the two men who were holding him, which was no easy feat, given that every time he moved, someone tried to yank him closer.

With a sigh, Lucky debated which way to go. He knew if he ended up pinned against Thorn he was never getting free, so he shifted himself toward Cain and nuzzled him. Sure enough, Cain pulled him tight to his side, and away from Thorn, leaving him just one arm to free himself from. It took some wiggling, and more than a few false starts to get himself free. Crawling over Cain’s back without waking him was another challenge, and by the time Lucky’s feet hit the floor he’d half expected to find Roscoe blocking the way. Fortunately, the big Shepard was sleeping, allowing Lucky to slip from the room and down the stairs.

He detoured to the bathroom for just a moment, before finding the closet where he’d seen Cain shove the extra decorations. There had been plenty of garland and bows left, so Lucky grabbed a big green one and all the garland and brought it out to the living room in front of the tree. There, humming Christmas carols to himself, he tied the first strand of gold garland around his ankles and slowly began wrapping it up his legs. When he started running out, he tied a silver strand to it, and kept on winding it around his body, tying it off just under his arms. He made a wreath of garlands and hung them around his neck, and a crown of one that he put on his head, along with the bow. Then using his teeth and the last strand of garland, he tied his hands together and settled in to wait, knowing that neither of his lovers tended to sleep in.

Sure enough, less than fifteen minutes later he heard them stirring, and the sound of Roscoe’s paws as he padded back and forth across the floor.

“Lucky!” he heard Thorn bellow and he struggled to hold back laughter.

“Where the hell could he be?”

That was from Cain, and Lucky grinned, anxiously waiting for them to find him. Behind him, the tree was all lit up, and soft Christmas music was playing in the background. He couldn’t ask for a more perfect moment, if only they’d come on.

He heard the door opening, listened as they crossed the upstairs den, Roscoe rushing ahead, making the stairs shake as he rushed down them. Shit he hadn’t planned for Roscoe to be the one to find him. The next thing he knew he had a hundred and thirty pounds of happy dog licking his face.

“Roscoe? Come on, boy, if you want to…”

Lucky would have smiled if Roscoe wasn’t still licking him mercilessly. Maybe he’d have been able to see Thorn’s expression too.

He heard the big man chuckle, then finally, Roscoe was being pulled away, and he was able to open his eyes again. The look Thorn was giving him was everything Lucky had hoped for and then some. Lucky watched as Thorn’s eyes very slowly made their way over his garland wrapped body, the smile on his face growing with every moment that passed.

“Hey, did you find...holy… Fuuuuuuck,” Cain stammered as his eyes landed on Lucky as well.

Lucky smiled up at both of them and licked his lips.

“Why don’t you put Roscoe out and unwrap me?”

“Uh….yeah,” Thorn managed, swiping a hand through his hair as he led Roscoe to the patio door and opened it so he could do what he needed to do out in the yard.

Cain knelt next to Lucky, and caressed his cheek. “How did you manage this?”

Lucky just grinned and tried to shrug. “Practice?”

“Uh-huh, and what would you do if we decided to leave you all trussed up like this?” Cain asked as Thorn closed the patio door and headed over to them.

“Beg,” Luck murmured, his voice dipping low. “Plead with you to unwrap me, Sir.”

Thorn chuckled. “Really?”

“Yes, Sir,” Lucky replied, staring up at them.

“Show me,” Thorn instructed.

Lucky shivered, eyes going half lidded at the tone of command in the older man’s voice. He raised his hands toward Thorn. “Please, Sir, can you take the garland off of me?”

Thorn chuckled. “Why should I?”

“To see how much I want you. To see how hard I’m getting under here,” Lucky offered.

Cain slid one finger beneath the folds of garland and stroked his thigh. “Oh really?”

“Yes, Sir. Please, please untangle me.”

“And what do I get if I unwrap you?” Cain asked.

“My mouth, my ass, anything you want, Sir.”

“Hmmmmm.”

Thorn knelt beside Lucky and slid his fingers through the garland around Lucky’s chest, found a piercing and twisted it, making Lucky gasp.

“Oh! Fuck. Please, Sir, get this stuff off of me!” Lucky hissed.

“Not. Yet.”

Each of Thorn’s words were punctuated by a twist or a tug on the ring.

“Fuuuuuuuccccccckkkkkkk,” Lucky groaned.

“You are gorgeous like this,” Thorn told him.

Lucky opened his eyes to see Thorn inches from his face, his hand going to the back of Lucky’s head to guide him in for a gentle kiss.

A soft click, click, click caught Lucky’s attention and he drew back from Thorn to find Cain taking pictures of them.

“Never wanna forget this,” Cain whispered huskily.

“Want you,” Lucky murmured against Thorn’s lips as the older man pulled him in for another kiss.

“Tell me how you want it,” Thorn instructed as he pulled back, his fingers sliding through the garland to tug on the nipple ring again.

“Oh my back,” Lucky gasped, “looking up at you. Slow. Deep, wanna feel every inch of you.”

Thorn carded his fingers through Lucky’s hair and groaned.

“Cain,” Thorn called out.

Lucky heard rustling behind them, and the sound of something placed on the coffee table. “Wanna check on Roscoe then grab the lube from upstairs?”

“Oh yeah,” Cain replied.

From the sound of his voice, Lucky could tell that he was turned on too. Cain paused beside them, kneeling by Lucky’s head, his hand slipping beneath Lucky’s chin to draw Lucky’s eyes toward him.

“Tell me something first,” Cain demanded. “Tell me how you want me.”

Lucky shivered again and gave him a smile. “I wanna ride you. Hard, rough, wanna feel it all day.”

“God, yeah,” Cain groaned and leaned in to kiss Lucky.

“Lube,” Thorn growled. He’d slid his hands into the garland and was stroking Lucky’s aching length.

“Going,” Cain replied, hurrying to the door first and letting Roscoe in. Only took him a moment to retrieve the lube they kept in the study, then he was sliding to his knees beside Thorn who’d already begun to unwrap Lucky.

Lucky looked over to see Cain putting the lube down so he could help Thorn unwrap him and he couldn’t help but reach out and pull Cain toward him and kiss him deep.

“Merry Christmas,” he whispered against Cain’s lips, then kissed him again.

“A very merry Christmas,” Cain replied when he pulled away and turned his attention back to the garland. In no time, Cain and Thorn had the garland peeled off of Lucky and flung to the side. The bow they left on the top of his head though, until it came loose when he was roughly riding Cain.

Afterwards, the trio sprawled naked on the floor, sated and tangled in each other’s arms.

“We have a gift for you,” Cain said as he stroked Lucky’s cheek. “One that we’d like you to open before we do anything else.”

“Thought you’d already given me my gift,” Lucky replied, as he lay with his head on Cain’s chest and Thorn pressed to his back, one leg thrown over his, pinning him in place.

“Nope, pretty sure that was you, giving us one of ours,” Thorn muttered as he kissed the back of Lucky’s neck, making him shiver.

Lucky sighed contently and closed his eyes, grumbling when he felt Thorn move and cool air hit his back. Moments later, he was back though, and urging Lucky to sit up.

The box Thorn held out toward him was square and flat, covered with crimson wrapping paper and tied with a black bow. Lucky couldn’t remember ever getting anything wrapped so fancy, and he couldn’t help but take a moment to admire it before slipping his finger beneath the bow and working it off the edge. He made short work of the wrapping paper, then opened the box, a gasp escaping him as he saw what was inside.

The collar was bright silver with small black gems adorning the sides and a large silver ring right at the center of his throat, his name engraved across the front of it. Lucky found his chest getting tight as he reached a hesitant finger to touch it.

“Let us put it on you, with our promise to always love, honor, respect and cherish you in all things,” Thorn said. “Know that you are our equal in all things, that we understand that you give your submission to us willingly, with the understanding that if we ever violate your trust in us, you can and will take back that gift.”

“Know that we will always put your needs before our own,” Cain added in. “That we will talk with you, instead of at you, learn and grow together to find higher levels of pleasure for all of us. Know that with us you will always be safe, that we will never deny you praise or affection.”

“This is the commitment we make to you,” Thorn said, his voice having taken on a formal tone. “Please say you’ll accept our commitment and pledge yourself to us as our sub.”

Lucky threw himself into Thorn’s arms and hugged tight. No matter how much he’d tried to deny it, to himself and to them, this was what he’d wanted from the moment he arrived.

“Hell yeah, Sir!”

Cain laughed and hugged them both as Roscoe pranced around them, trying to get in on the love fest by licking whichever face he could reach. Finally, laughing, they all untangled themselves, petting Roscoe before Thorn lifted the collar from the box.

Lucky swept his hair up off the back of his neck as Cain and Thorn maneuvered the collar across his throat, situating it the way they liked it before Cain slid the tiny lock through the loop, and Thorn closed it, locking it tight, before attaching a second one.

“One for each of us,” Thorn murmured as he kissed the side of Luck’s neck.

Even then, both of them checked to make sure it wasn’t too tight or pinching Lucky in any way. Both men held up keys, which they affixed to the chains around their neck and would always be carried in their possessions.

“We love you,” Thorn murmured in Lucky’s ear before kissing him soundly, then making love to him again beneath the tree.

***

“We have one more Christmas present for you,” Cain explained as they led Lucky out to the SUV. It was technically the day after Christmas, but most of their Christmas had been spent beneath the tree or tangled around one another in their bed.

“You’ve given me so much,” Lucky said softly as his hand reached up to touch the collar around his neck. Its presence there was warm, comforting, and everything he’d ever wanted, but hadn’t known how to ask for. Having them put it around his neck together was a memory he’d never forget, and the wicked things they’d done to him after.

Lucky shivered at the memory and blushed.

“This is even more special than the collar,” Thorn told him, and urged Lucky into the backseat.

“Nothing could be more special than that,” Lucky said, eyes widening a little when Cain climbed in the back with him.

“Don’t be so sure of that,” Cain said as he put on his seatbelt and settled back in the seat.

The exact moment when Lucky realized where he was going was also the moment he realized why Cain was seated in the back with him for the three hour drive. Lucky’s breathing had picked up and he gripped the back of Thorn’s seat, shaking it a little.

“Wh-why are we back here? I told you I never wanted to come back here again!”

Cain covered Lucky’s hands with his own and drew him back into the safe embrace of his arms.

“You need your family. We’re giving that back to you.”

“Wait, no, you told me I was yours, you can’t just drop me off here!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Lucky, breathe for a moment,” Thorn ordered.

Lucky sucked in a deep breath obediently while Cain stroked his hair.

“We’re not bringing you here to leave you,” Cain explained calmly. “We’re bringing you here to talk to Mark, so you guys can settle things and you can get your kutte back. You’d still be transferred to the Outer Banks chapter, but you’d be a Joker again and you’d have back the place in the club that you earned.”

“He’s not gonna wanna talk to me,” Lucky insisted.

“Yea, he is,” Thorn assured him. “He wants to hear from you what happened. So tell him the truth, tell him everything you told us, hold nothing back. You owe him your honesty.”

“I know,” Lucky said softly.

“So let’s get this fixed, then we’ll go back home and spike up another batch of eggnog, watch some more Christmas horror flicks and fuck on the living room floor,” Thorn instructed, bringing laughs from Lucky and Cain.

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Cain replied as they pulled up in front of the diner where the meeting was to take place.

“We thought you would be more comfortable meeting here,” Thorn explained as he parked. “That way you wouldn’t have to run into anyone else.

“You mean Cody,” Lucky said softly. “He still hates me, doesn’t he?”

Thorn glanced back over his shoulder to look at Lucky. “I don’t know. You’ll have to ask him that yourself, sometime. Right now, just focus on what you’re here for.”

“Yes, Sir,” Lucky replied, as he glanced out the window of the SUV to see a pair of familiar bikes already sitting there. When he looked up, he saw Mark seated in the large bay window, with Teddy sitting a few tables away. The Prez never traveled alone to a meeting, didn’t matter who the meeting was with.

“We’ll be out here,” Thorn explained. “You go ahead.”

Cain hugged him from behind and kissed the top of Lucky’s head. “It’ll be fine. Go on.”

“Yes, Sir,” Lucky muttered, voice wavering a bit as he got out. There was nothing left to do but wipe his hands on his jeans and head in. The ringing of the bells on the door sounded a little too loud to Lucky’s ears, he ducked his head to avoid the eyes of those who’d lifted theirs to see who had entered, walking over to Mark’s table with none of the confidence he’d attempted to display when he’d seen the man last.

“Sit your ass down, Lucky Strike,” Mark ordered as he lifted his cup of coffee to his lips.

“Yes Sir,” Lucky said and quickly took a seat.

“I see you got some new hardware since I saw you last. Must have finally decided to do something right if you were able to earn that from Thorn.”

“I-I love them,” Lucky stammered. “And even if I don’t deserve it, they love me back.”

“Don’t be so certain you don’t deserve it, Lucky,” Mark told him as he sat the mug down and folded his hands in front of him. “Just don’t throw them away the way you did the club.”

Lucky swallowed hard and ducked his head, letting his long hair brush the surface of the table.

“Look at me,” Mark snapped, and Lucky jerked his head up. “Thorn said you want to talk, so talk.”

Lucky’s mouth fell open, and he found himself twisting a napkin into a wad of useless paper. “I’m sorry,” he finally blurted.

“That’s a start.”

“When you said you wanted me to leave, all I could think about was that I already had no one, now you were kicking me out of the only home I’d ever known and it wasn’t fair. What did I do so wrong that Ray had to jump off a fucking cliff to get away from me? I wasn’t that bad of a son, I tried hard not to disappoint them, I know he didn’t want me to take dad out to the beach that night, but he was begging me and I couldn’t say no, I never meant for Pops to hate me or the rest of you to hate me too. I didn’t mean to be a pain in the ass and push everyone away, but how could I talk to any of you, you all had everyone you loved and I had nothing.”

Lucky took a deep breath, he felt the tears on his cheeks and didn’t bother to wipe them away.

“I kept fucking up everything, even when I wasn’t trying to screw it up. I wanted to belong to someone, but he just used me, laughed at me and mocked everything I felt. Every day it felt like I was losing something or someone else. I didn’t want you guys to pity me, but I could see it in your eyes that you did. I wanted to prove that I didn’t need it, that I didn’t need any of you to look out for me, that I could do it on my own, but I fucked that up too. It hurt so fuckin’ bad when you suspended me. I wanted to punch you, but I didn’t dare. Felt like the only way I could get back at you was to fuck up that tattoo, knew how much time you spent putting it on me and I wanted to wreck it, make it as worthless as you’d made me feel.”

“And how’d that work out for you?”

“It sucks. It was stupid. I had a panic attack at the tattoo parlor that night, hell I nearly blacked out while he was doing it and it was even worse once I saw it on my back. They thought I was gonna need a trip to the ER. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t feel anything except how stupid I was.”

“And they let you ride home that way!” Mark growled.

“They gave me water and a sucker and I felt a little better and told them I was okay to ride.”

“That’s bullshit, they should have called someone! You could have wrecked.”

“I couldn’t have them call Thorn, I didn’t know if you were still there and I knew he’d be pissed at me for leaving without permission.”

“He would have been more pissed at you if you’d wrecked your bike that night and gotten hurt, and so would I.”

“Oh.”

Shreds of tissue fell from the napkin, littering the table as Lucky twisted it more.

“I miss the club. I miss all of you,” Lucky admitted softly. “It got to where I just felt so out of place and angry, seeing everyone going about their lives when mine was falling apart. I hurt, everything hurt, I didn’t know what to do with it all, I needed a way to channel it and I didn’t know how to ask, or who. Doesn’t excuse the way I disrespected the club though.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“I’m sorry. It was petty and stupid what I did to that tattoo. You guys were my family. I understand now that marking over that ink was like saying I was throwing all of you away. Please let me come back. I love you guys, whatever it takes, even if it means getting the whole thing laser removed and starting over, I’m willing to do it, I don’t care what it costs or how much it hurts, I’ll find a way to pay for it, just please let me fix this. Let me be part of the club again. Let me be part of the family again.”

Mark cracked his knuckles and reached across the table to take the now shredded pieced of napkin from Lucky’s hand, wanting his undivided attention.

“Your first mistake was in never talking to anyone in the club about what you were feeling. It didn’t have to be me, but it should have been someone.”

“I didn’t want—”

Mark slammed his hands on the table, sloshing coffee everywhere. “It was never about what you wanted, Lucky, it was about what you needed.”

He let those words hang between them for a moment before continuing on.

“Grief tears people apart. Makes them do stupid shit. Your Pops was a prime example of that. He didn’t talk to anyone either, but he also hid it better than you did. I couldn’t see that he needed help, I could see that you did and all I wanted was to make sure you got it before something bad happened.”

“I…” Lucky began, and then shook his head.

“Maybe you couldn’t see it then. I guess maybe you had way too much to deal with and I might have pushed a little too hard or in the wrong way trying to look after you. I never meant for you to feel like you didn’t have value to the club, or me. It was because of how much I valued you that I wanted you to be safe.”

“I know. Now. I’m sorry I was such a stubborn bastard about it.”

“You come by it honestly enough. We both do.”

Lucky nodded at that and let out a loud sigh. “I did talk to someone about how messed up everything had gotten, it just turned out to be the wrong person.”

“How so?”

“They weren’t part of the club,” Lucky admitted, his voice wavering a little, but he forced himself to meet Mark’s eyes and steady his voice as he continued speaking. “I broke one of your rules. I went to another dungeon. I met a guy there, and let him play with me, more than once. I started seeing him a lot, outside of the dungeon. I thought he wanted to be my Dom, it turns out he was filming me. He just wanted to use me for porn.”

Mark tapped his fingers together, the expression on his face unreadable. “And what happened when you found out?”

“I kicked his ass and I got arrested.”

Mark nodded, sucking in a deep breath. “And that night, when I came down to bail you out, what did you tell me?”

“That we’d gotten into it over something stupid and I handled it.”

“Which means you lied.”

“It wasn’t...”

“You lied to me that night, Lucky, didn’t you?”

“I...”

“It wasn’t stupid. You had every right to be pissed. So you lied.”

“Yeah,” Lucky finally admitted. “I didn’t want to cause any more trouble.”

“If you ever say that to me again, I’m gonna pop you in the mouth, Lucky Strike, do you understand me?”

“Yes, Sir,” Lucky stammered, a bit confused.

“When I take away the fights you got into after you, deliberately, and don’t try and tell me it wasn’t, went after someone who was already taken, I’m left with a handful of incidents and every last one of them came back to you not wanting to cause trouble for the club in situations that you shouldn’t have been trying to handle alone.”

“I—”

“Why were you fighting so much?”

“To feel.”

“Yeah. Now that’s a truth I would have understood. The thing is, Lucky, all the shit you were going through, I’ve been there, I’ve lived it, and I saw where it was leading you. You weren’t pulling anything over on me. And that asshole who used you, Donny Duchamp, we found him, and the tapes, that’s an issue you’ll never have to deal with again, but I could have gotten to him sooner if you’d just told me what happened.”

“I was ashamed. I didn’t just get suckered into getting filmed, I got suckered into falling for him.”

“And if you think you are the only one in life to ever get taken by someone they care about or has had their emotions used against them, you’d be wrong.”

Lucky hung his head then, jaw clenched, he was shocked as hell when Mark lay a gentle hand on his head.

“It hurt,” Lucky blurted. “I trusted him, I did everything he wanted, I was the perfect sub…”

“But he wasn’t the perfect Dom, and that does make a difference,” Mark said gently. “It’s why the rule was in place, to keep you all safe.”

“I know that now,” Lucky muttered, shivering a little when Mark raised his eyes up so he could look in them.

“I only ever wanted you safe and happy, Lucky,” Mark explained. “Your old man was one of my best friends, if I could help you find what he had with your Pops, well then, I figured I was paying him back for all those years of friendship and always having my back.”

Lucky tried to smile, but couldn’t manage a real one. “And I had to go and be a shit head about it.”

Mark laughed and moved his hand away from Lucky’s face. “Yup, but you’re young, and you learned.”

“But…wait, how did you know his name? I never told anyone his name! How were you able to go after him? Why would you even bother after what I did?”

Mark just chuckled at that before looking Lucky dead in the eyes. “Did you think I would let it stand once I found out about it? You’re ours, always will be. Didn’t matter how pissed I was at you; no one gets away with hurting my family. Once I was able to get my hands on one of the tapes, it was pretty easy to track it back to him.”

Lucky’s eyes widened and he began to shake. “You…watched?”

“Only enough to see that you were all in, and that you were being genuine. Your eyes were focused on him, your motions and mannerisms were all about the act, not a play for the camera. I could tell that you had no idea that it was anything other than being with him.”

“Yeah.”

“You’ve made your mistakes and you’ve paid for them,” Mark told him. “As for how I found out his name, it really wasn’t very hard. You told Thorn that you went after the guy when you found out that he’d been taping you. It was pretty easy to speak to a contact over at the Police Department and see who you’d assaulted to pick up those charges. Funny, but after I did some digging, it turned out that you weren’t the only one he’d scammed that way.”

Lucky ducked his head again, shyly hiding his eyes. “Oh.”

“Stop that. What’s done is done and you learned a valuable lesson, though if you’d told me the night I bailed you out what had happened, I probably could have stopped more of the tapes from getting out there. As it is, we have no way of knowing how many he sold.”

“Fuck.”

“Nothing can be done about it now, though I’m pretty sure he’ll think twice before he starts up his little enterprise again, or at the very least, he’ll have to wait until his hands heal, hard to truss up a sub with all your fingers broken.”

A smile crossed Lucky’s face then as he raised his head to look into Mark’s eyes. “All of them?”

“Every one and some multiple times. I took great pleasure in stomping the fuck outta them.”

“Couldn’t have happened to a bigger asshole,” Lucky replied gleefully.

“Nope, I’m guessing not. I hope you’ve learned from this too.”

“I have, and Thorn and Cain, they –”

Whatever Lucky was going to say next was cut off in a screech of tires. He caught sight of the car out of the corner of his eyes, saw the flash of sunlight on the muzzle of the gun and didn’t think, he just dove across the table at Mark as bullets shattered the window behind him. Mark’s chair overturned, spilling them both onto the floor, glass raining down around them. Time and sound seemed to slow down, Lucky though he heard someone yelling, but it seemed like it was from really far away. It hurt to breathe, he tried to roll off Mark and found that he just didn’t have the energy, so he lay there limply, trying to get air into his lungs.

“Lucky!”

He couldn’t tell if Mark sounded worried or pissed, even right there by his ear, his voice was distant.

“Lucky Strike, you answer me right now!”

“Sorry, Sir,” Lucky slurred, “I didn’t hear the question.”

“Are you hit?”

“Hit?”

“Teddy,” Mark called out.

Lucky had almost forgotten Teddy was here. Why was Mark calling Teddy? Had he done something really wrong again?

“Help get him off of me.”

“I don’t think we should move him,” Teddy replied. “Unless you’re hit too.”

Lucky wondered why even as he felt a second set of hands on his shoulders, holding him in place.

“I’m fine. How bad is he?”

“Three to the back.”

Lucky realized, with sudden clarity that they meant bullets. Funny but he’d always imagined that being shot would hurt.

“Shit. Lucky can you hear me.”

“Yes,” Lucky managed to choke out, coughing hard, god, now that hurt.

“Don’t move, take slow steady breaths, an ambulance is on the way.”

“Mmmmkay,” Lucky managed. All he could see was his hair in his eyes and the glass on the floor and even that was starting to blend together.

“Oh holy shit, Lucky!”

Thorn’s voice was loud, booming, or maybe it was just that sound was starting to come back and all of the numbness was wearing off. Pain, like someone was holding flames to his back, burned through him and Lucky had to swallow back a scream. Boots crunched glass, more than just one set, the dark shapes suddenly coming into view.

“Do not touch him,” Mark’s voice cut through the scramble of feet like a whip cracking, and even Lucky froze for a moment, holding his breath, until it gushed out in a shuddering exhale.

“Oh fuck. Oh holy shit, Lucky.”

Lucky wished he could turn his head and look at Cain, reassure him somehow, but it was so hard to breathe through the pain right now.

“Breathe Lucky,” Mark instructed, right there in his ear, like that time he’d fallen off his dirt bike, busted his arm and lay curled in the dust, clutching it and holding his breath to keep the tears at bay. “In and out. That’s the only thing you need to focus on.”

Lucky wanted to respond. He could hear sirens in the distance, getting louder by the moment, then the entire world just faded away.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

“This can’t be happening,” Cain moaned as he paced the waiting room. “He’s gotta be all right.”

“He will be,” Thorn said, his knee bouncing up and down, the chain attached to his wallet bouncing uncontrollably.

Like Cain, Mark was pacing, hands shoved in his pockets, blood on his kutte from where it had dripped down Lucky’s side.

“Santiago is a dead man!” Cain snarled.

Mark stalked right up to him, invading his space, the look in his eyes blazing with intensity. “You leave that son of a bitch to me. He’s mine. No buts, I don’t even wanna hear it right now, Cain, you just keep the hell away from him and let me deal with it.”

As distraught as he was, Cain knew when to back down. He gave the Prez a nod and backed away, running his hand through his hair before he resumed his pacing again.

“Lucky’s strong, he’s healthy and he’s a fighter, he knows we love him and he’ll fight for that.”

“Three shots though, three, Thorn, we don’t know where they hit him, we don’t know what they hit, he could end up on a respirator, he could be paralyzed, he…”

“No matter what condition he comes through this in, he’s ours and we’ll take care of him,” Thorn replied firmly. “Come here.”

Cain sat down beside him and Thorn gripped his shoulder hard enough that Cain flinched.

“You’re not helping anything by freaking out. Get it together so when they tell us we can go in and see Lucky, you’re calm. Right now that’s what he’s gonna need from us, calm. Later we can fall apart.”

“I…”

“No, no doubts, no second guessing, no what ifs right now. Right now the only thing we should be picturing is Lucky coming out of that ER with a hundred percent chance of recovery, got it?”

“Yeah.”

“Good, now just sit here with me for a bit.”

Cain leaned against him, allowing Thorn to support him and lend him his strength.

“You need to call Liam,” Mark said suddenly and Cain’s head jerked up. “Let him know what’s going on so he can take care of Roscoe.”

“Shit,” Thorn muttered and dug around in his jacket, pulling out his phone to make the call. Footsteps thudded in the corridor, as Cody, wild and out of control came rocketing around the corner.

“Where is he? Is he okay?”

“Sit down, son,” Mark said calmly as Wreck strode into the room behind Cody.

“I don’t want to sit down, Dad, I wanna know about Lucky! Where is he? Why is everyone sitting out here? Who the fuck shot him? What the hell happened? I thought you were meeting to talk about him being back in the club again?”

“Cody, sit, now.”

Though he never raised his voice, his tone brokered no room for discussion. Cody sat, fidgeting from the moment his ass hit the seat.

“He’s got three bullets in his back, and he was unconscious when he was brought in. As for what happened, he threw himself between me and the gun, that’s what happened.”

“Who did it?”

“You let me worry about that.”

“Fuck!” Cody snarled. “How long before we know anything?”

“I don’t know. You know how hospitals are, everything is about the waiting. Someone will come out and tell us when they know something.”

“What if he dies, Pop,” Cody asked, his voice having lost some of the bite to it. Now he just sounded young and scared for his friend. “What if I never have the chance to tell him I’m sorry?”

“He’s not dying, not today,” Mark replied, all of his focus on being positive. “You’ll get your chance to talk to him.”

***

With nothing more to be said, they all sat, waiting to hear from a doctor on Lucky’s condition. More members of the club began to arrive. Someone went for coffee, and later sandwiches in the cafeteria, though few had any real interest in eating them. When the doctor finally did appear, head covering held in his hands, they crowded around to hear the outcome.

“We were able to remove all three bullets,” the doctor began.

“Thank fuck!” Thorn declared loudly.

There were more murmurs along the same lines, each of them grateful to hear it.

“He was extremely lucky. One bullet was lodged in his left shoulder, breaking the shoulder blade, the second hit a rib and ricochet, cracking two ribs in the process, while the third pierced a lung, but we were able to repair the damage and he is breathing with the aid of a respirator at the moment. Right now the main concern is infection, any type of cold or allergy is going to cause complications, so anyone who even suspects they are coming down with something, stay out of his room.

“Understood, doc,” Mark replied. “When can we see him?”

“He’s in post-op right now, as soon as he’s taken up to ICU you’ll be able to see him, but only two at a time. Try not to stay for longer than ten minutes tonight, he needs to rest and heal. You can stay as long as you’d like during visiting hours tomorrow, as long as no one riles him up.”

“What about family,” Thorn asked. “We don’t want him to be alone, can one of us sit with him at night?”

“I don’t think that will be a problem, but only one of you can stay. The rest will have to come back during visiting hours tomorrow.”

“Understood, doc,” Mark said, and reached out and shook the doctor’s hand. “Thank you for making sure he pulled through.”

“He’s got a bit of recovery time ahead, but he’s strong, he’ll come through it okay. A nurse will be out to inform you when he’s been moved. And gentlemen, if you are carrying weapons, please do not take them upstairs.”

He turned to go, leaving them to resume pacing, huddling, and cursing their way through another frustrating wait. When the nurse finally did approach them, Cody lurched out of his seat, and rushed to meet her.

“You can see him now, but—” she began to say, but Cody bolted past her. He only made it three steps before Wreck caught his arm and hauled him back to his seat. As he passed Cain and Thorn he gave them an apologetic look.

“Ignore him, seems to have forgotten his manners,” Wreck said as he dragged Cody back down to sit beside him.

Thorn and Cain went together, Cain’s hand tucked firmly into Thorn’s as they headed to the room number they’d been given.

Nothing prepared them for seeing Lucky face down in the bed, back covered in bandages, hooked to machines and a respirator that was helping him breathe.

“Oh fuck, Cain,” Thorn groaned, freezing in the doorway.

“Remember what you said to me,” Cain said softly. “Deep breaths, we only have a few minutes.”

Thorn nodded and sucked in a deep breath, letting it out slow before they approached the bed. Lucky’s eyes were closed and his breathing shallow. Both men hesitated to touch him, hands reaching out, then stopping to fall back to their sides.

“Lucky?” Thorn said softly, kneeling beside Lucky’s head.

No extra blips, not a twitch from the still form. Thorn stroked a fingertip down the side of Lucky’s face. Caressing gently.

“You’re not alone,” Thorn told him. “One of us is gonna be right here until you wake.”

Scooting back, Thorn allowed room for Cain to touch Lucky gently on the shoulder. “Was a crazy god damned brave thing you did, but now you gotta be okay. We can’t lose you.”

Both men waited, side by side, their gazes fixated on Lucky’s pale face, hoping to see him open his eyes at least, but he never stirred.

“I’ll stay the night,” Thorn told Cain. “You get back to the compound and try to get some rest. Make sure you eat something too. You can switch places with me in the morning.”

“Fuck, I don’t wanna leave him.”

“I know, but one of us has to. Let me be the one to stay tonight. If anything…just, I’d feel better if it was me here.”

Cain nodded, hating it, but knowing they had little choice as only one was allowed to stay. Leaning forward, he brushed the hair back from Lucky’s cheek and kissed him, then stood.

“Call me if there’s any change. I don’t care what time it is.”

“I will,” Thorn assured him.

Reluctantly, Cain left, allowing Mark in to see him next. One by one, the club members filtered through, talking softly to the unconscious figure in the bed. Offering words of praise and encouragement to Lucky and support to Thorn, pulling for their fallen brother to recover. When the last one had gone, Thorn pulled a chair up beside the bed, took Lucky’s hand and just started talking. Spilling his thoughts with no order or reason, just however they popped into his head.

Every time a nurse or doctor popped in, he peppered them for a progress report, anxious to know why Lucky wasn’t waking up, but all they ever did was assure him that Lucky was doing as well as could be expected and that it might take a day or two before he began to respond to them.

Thorn hated waiting. He hated it even more when they took Lucky off the respirator and they stood by anxiously watching to see if he’d do fine breathing on his own. He did, but Thorn’s nerves were a frazzled mess by the time Cain arrived in the morning, looking like he’d flown through showering and getting dressed and hadn’t even bothered to comb out his hair. Still, Thorn hugged him tight and silently held on to him for a minute before going to get some sleep.

***

Like Thorn, Cain spent his time talking, certain that Lucky could hear him even when he didn’t respond. It was late in the evening, over an hour after dinner time when Lucky groaned in the middle of Cain’s story about wreck diving a Portuguese ship off the coast of Florida.

“Lucky?”

“Hmmm.”

“Shit, Lucky, can you hear me?”

“Don’t wanna get up yet.”

Cain couldn’t help but chuckle at that and gently stroked his hand over the back of Lucky’s hair.

“I don’t think you’re going to be getting up anytime soon. You’re in a hospital. You got shot at the diner protecting Mark.”

Lucky’s voice was slurred and difficult to understand even leaning in close the way Cain was. “Mark’s mad at me.”

“No, Lucky, he’s not. Shit, he’s so fuckin’ proud of you right now, we all are.”

“Mmmmm,” Lucky murmured.

“Do you need anything? Does anything hurt?”

“Sleep.”

“Okay,” Cain replied, continuing to stroke his hair. “You sleep, I’ll be right here.”

***

“Hey kid, how you doin’?”

“Shitty,” Lucky growled, eyes squeezed shut. “Kinda dizzy, everything hurts.”

“You need a nurse?”

“She just left, waiting for the drugs to kick in,” Lucky managed through grit teeth.

“Damn kid, well if they don’t hurry up and hit, I’m gonna grab her ass and drag her back in here,” Mark growled as he ran his fingers through Lucky’s hair.

Lucky sighed. That at least felt good.

“Don’t think Miranda and Teddy ‘ill like ya playin’ grab ass with the nurses,” Lucky slurred.

Mark had to chuckle at that. “You can say that again.”

Mark fell silent, but his fingers kept stroking over the back of Lucky’s head and neck, helping him relax as the meds started chasing some of the pain away.

“Can you open your eyes for a minute? I’ve got something for you.”

At Mark’s gentle request, Lucky opened his eyes to see a kutte dangling from Mark’s hand.

“Is that…”

“Yeah kid, it’s yours, you’ve more than earned it back.”

“Fuck,” Lucky breathed out as he tried to reach out and touch it and found he couldn’t quite make it. “Thank you.”

“No, Lucky, thank you. I’m only here right now ‘cause of you, kid. I love you. You get well. I’m anxious to see you up and around again. Soon as you’re healthy enough, I’ll fix the tat, make it all right again.”

“Thanks, Mark. Hate this bed,” Lucky muttered, struggling to stay awake and failing.

“I bet you do. Get some rest, Cain and Thorn will be back shortly.”

“M’kay.”

The last sound Lucky heard was that of Mark’s boot chains jingling as he headed out the door.

***

Lucky groaned and tried to roll over, but there were too many cords and wires that just tangled whenever he tried to do anything. Even reaching for a cup of water was difficult and it was far easier to just close his eyes and forget about being thirsty. The remote was even further away, so much for background noise, though he would have killed for something to drown out all the blurbs and beeps of the monitors.

The sound of the door opening made him raise his head a little, hoping to see Cain or Thorn there. Instead, he watched as Cody slunk into the room with his hands shoved in his pockets and his head down.

“It’s not a funeral you know,” Lucky croaked.

Cody’s head jerked up and his stormy gray eyes locked onto Lucky’s. “You’re awake.”

“Yeah. Barely.”

He tried again to reach the water, it hurt his throat to try and speak, and he was grateful when Cody grabbed the cup and knelt beside the bed, holding it so he could drink.

“Thanks.”

Cody didn’t reply, just put the cup on the floor and hugged Lucky as best he could, his head pressed to Lucky’s on the bed. Lucky could feel him shaking, then moisture wetting his shoulder and he struggled to find the words to comfort him.

“So fuckin’ sorry,” Cody muttered.

Lucky wished he could touch him, but he couldn’t move the way Cody had him pinned.

“Hey,” Lucky said, trying to get his attention. When that didn’t work he tried again, a little louder.

Cody’s response was muffled between them. “You saved my Pops.”

“Had to.”

“I was a bastard. Shouldn’t have said all that shit to you. Serves me right if you hate me.”

“Could never hate you,” Lucky muttered as Cody hugged him tighter. “Uggg.”

Cody let go as if touching Lucky burned him, his face stricken. “Oh shit, shit, Lucky, I’m sorry, are you okay? Do you need a nurse?”

Lucky let out a slow, steady breath, now that he didn’t feel like he was being squashed. “It’s all good. Just couldn’t breathe that way.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“Man, relax. You need to smoke a bowl or something. Wish I could too, but I’m not allowed to smoke anything anytime soon.”

“That sucks.”

“Yeah, small price to pay though, could have been so much worse.”

“I don’t even wanna think about that. When I heard that you’d been shot—”

Cody began to pace, making Lucky a little dizzy since it was such a small space he was trying to pace in. Kind of looked like he was just going around in circles yanking at his hair.

“I wanted to hunt them down. I wanted to find whoever did it and make them pay. I wanted to tear the entire town apart until I figured out who had the gun. I was so fuckin’ scared you weren’t gonna make it, and that I’d never get to tell you that I was sorry for being a douche.”

“Not the first time, won’t be the last,” Lucky pointed out with a bit of a smile. “You’re still my brother, though.”

“You’re damn right I am.”

“I missed you,” Lucky told him. It was already getting harder to talk. He hated how tired he got so quickly.

“I missed you too. Sorry I was such an ass.”

“I’ll forgive you on one condition.”

“Anything.”

“Stop apologizing. It’s over. Everyone lived. We’re good.”

“Thanks, my brutha.”

“Anytime,” Lucky murmured, letting his eyes slide closed again. “Think I’m gonna sleep awhile.”

“M’kay, see you soon,” Cody replied, before slipping out the door again.

***

“Hey.”

Lucky glanced toward the door to see Teddy hovering anxiously, half in and half out of the room.

“Hey,” Lucky rasped hoarsely.

“Is it okay if I…” Teddy let the rest of the words trail off as he gestured between the chairs and himself.

“Yeah, come on in.”

“Thanks,” Teddy replied, coming in and closing the door silently behind him.

If he could have laughed, Lucky would have, watching the almost comical way that Teddy lowered himself into the seat, as if he was afraid to make a sound.

“How are you feeling?” Teddy whispered after he’d gotten himself settled.

Lucky responded with a faint smile. “Seriously? You don’t have to whisper, you’re not gonna set off any alarms if you walk normal or talk normal either.”

That brought a real smile from Teddy, who visibly relaxed. “Sorry, I hate hospitals.”

“Yeah, they’re no picnic.”

“I just, I needed to come see you. I had to thank you for what you did.”

“No need for thanks.”

“Yeah, actually, there is. I had nothing before Mark and Miranda took me in. With four teenagers to raise, you know they didn’t have to do that shit. They could have left me where they found me, but they didn’t.”

“That’s ‘cause they’re awesome, always let Cody and his brothers keep every stray they found.”

“And that’s pretty much what I was, too, a stray that had just gotten fired from his stripping job, living in my damn car because rent was too expensive.”

“You were a stripper?”

Teddy wrinkled his nose. “Yeah, and not a very good one which is pretty much why I got fired. They hired me to tend bar in the dungeon, let me live with them, and eventually, well, you know how it all worked out in the end. Losing him would have destroyed Miranda and me. What you did, I just, I can never thank you enough.”

“He’d have done the same for me.”

“I know. That’s what family’s about.”

Lucky smiled then, and closed his eyes. “Yeah.”

“So if you ever need someone to talk to, advice or just wanna shoot the shit, anything at all, you know where to find me.”

“Thanks, Teddy.”

Lucky felt a gentle hand on his head, then Teddy’s lips pressed to his forehead. “So glad you’re back with us, Lucky.”

Before Lucky could manage to drag his eyes open again, he heard the soft sounds of Teddy leaving the room, but even afterwards, his words lingered. Family. It was amazing to have his family back again.

***

“Check this out,” Cody said, a big grin on his face as he dropped into the chair beside Lucky’s hospital bed.

With a groan, Lucky reached out and tried to grab the newspaper that Cody was waving around like a mad man.

“Maybe I’d be able to read it if you’d actually give the damn thing to me instead of flapping it around like you’re trying to kill something.”

“Damn, someone’s grumpy today.”

Lucky wished that he could reach out and punch the smirk off his best friend’s face, but he didn’t have the energy for it. All he really wanted was to take a nap, but with all the paper flapping it wasn’t likely to happen anytime soon.

“I’ve been here a fuckin’ week,” Lucky growled, trying to push himself into a sitting position. “It’s boring and everything hurts. Being shot sucks.”

“No shit, I don’t imagine it would tickle.”

“Then stop waving the damned newspaper at me and let me see what the hell you’re going on about.”

Cody spread the paper out on the edge of the bed before lifting it up so Lucky could see the article.

“Front page man, and half a page inside too, we nailed ‘em good.”

Lucky glanced from the look of triumph on Cody’s face to the newspaper, expecting to see an article detailing a shootout and bodies in the street, instead, what he saw was a headline about a smuggling ring busted, and a museum official under investigation for taking part in forging artifacts.

The more Lucky read, the more confused he got. The article talked about the museum in Kill Devil Hills, the same museum he’d been trying to convince Thorn and Cain to take him to so they could see the artifacts from the shipwreck. And there were details of the wreck in the article too, talking about when it sank and how long people had been searching for it, its cargo and who had at last discovered it. The article went on to talk about an investigation into the black market dealing of artifacts from the wreck and claims from some old British insurers who believed that they, not the museum, had the true salvage rights to the wreck.

According to the article, the main curator of the museum, a Mr. Wilson Perez, had been indicted in the scandal too. It turned out that not only had he known that he was using museum funds to procure illegally salvaged artifacts, but he’d had some very clever forgeries made of other museum pieces, and had sold or secreted the originals away in his own personal connection.

When Lucky read Santiago’s name, and saw that he was Perez’ nephew and that Perez was Christian’s old man, the whole thing suddenly made sense.

“Holy shit,” he muttered as he finished reading the list of charges the trio faced.

“Exactly,” Cody said, still grinning like a lunatic.

Lucky glance from his face to the paper again. “Says they got busted after an antiques dealer named Tony Blaine went to the museum board with proof that the pieces they had on display were forgeries. Once the board had ascertained that he was right, they called in the police who discovered that it had spread far wider than they originally though.”

“Yup, my old man was the one who sent Blaine in. He and the guys have been digging into Santiago ever since he smashed up Thorn and Cain’s shop. After what happened to you, he’s been determined to bring them down. Much as he wanted to go old school eye for an eye shit, he knew the police were watching. Anything that even looked like retaliation was gonna blow back on the club, so they dropped some information into the right ear, and bam, the police started crawling all over the museum. As you can see, even their salvage rights might be bogus. They’ve had to shut down while investigators and antiques experts sort the fakes from the real pieces.”

Lucky chuckled, then groaned because movement and laughter hurt.

“Glad no one else ended up getting hurt, or worse over it.”

“Me too, though it still doesn’t sit well with some of the older guys.”

“Yeah, it wouldn’t have sat well with my Old Man,” Lucky admitted softly. “Kinda glad he’s not here to see this, nothin’ your Pops would have been able to say or do to keep him from taking a gun and going after him.”

“I know, and Ray would have been right there beside him, they’d have ended up on the run or in jail, if not dead shooting it out with them.”

“Yeah.”

Lucky closed his eyes, trying to let the dull ache fade.

“Hey,” Cody said gently.

The hand on Lucky’s arm made him open his eyes to see Cody’s face inches away from his.

“I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay,” Lucky rushed to assure him. “It still hurts like a bitch to think about them most times, but I don’t ever wanna forget them. Talking about them is hard, but it keeps them alive, make me remember all the good times and how much they loved me.”

“Yeah they did.”

Lucky yawned and fumbled around for the remote to lower the head of the bed.

“Fuckin’ sucks being tired all the time. So not how I’d wanna spend my days in bed.”

Cody laughed knowingly. “Oh I can just bet how you’d rather spend your days, and between who.”

Lucky just smirked. “Yup.”

“Can’t say I blame you, holy shit.”

“Keep your eyes to yourself, or I’ll tell Wreck,” Lucky threatened, then yawned again. Damnit but he hated feeling so weak.

Cody groaned and gave an involuntary shudder that Lucky couldn’t miss.

Lucky grinned. “Or maybe you’re hoping I will.”

“When you get outta here, we’ll have to compare notes,” Cody said as he stood and crossed the room toward the light.

“What are we, teenage girls now?”

Cody just laughed and shook his head. “You want this off, asshole?”

“Yeah, thanks, bitch,” Lucky shot back before closing his eyes. He heard the light snap off, then the echo of Cody’ laughter as he walked away.

EPILOGUE

The bonfire burned bright against the night sky, the hiss and crackle of burning wood melding with the rolling waves. Someone was playing an old Stevie Ray Vaughn song on an acoustic guitar while a couple other folks sang alone.

Lucky was sprawled in Cain’s arms, his legs stretched across Thorn’s lap. It was January Twenty-second and the first night they’d deemed Lucky strong enough for a night at the beach. The rest of the club was there as well. Cody and Wreck, Teddy, Miranda, Mark and all of the others Lucky had grown up with. They’d put off the big New Year’s bonfire celebration until he’d been healthy enough to join them.

Tonight, there was a blanket pulled securely over Lucky, hiding the kutte he’d put back on his jacket. He was watching the fire crackle, enjoying the music and laughter, wishing for a beer, but happily drinking the juice Cain had brought for him.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” Thorn asked as he slid his hand up Lucky’s leg and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“Just how lucky I really am.”

“We all are,” Cain interjected. “Nothing in life’s a promise. You never know when it’s gonna end.”

“Yeah,” Lucky agreed, “but I didn’t just mean that, I meant all of it. I was sitting here thinking back to last year’s bonfire, and how much I cussed the new year ‘cause everyone was celebrating and making promises, wishes, that kinda bullshit and my old man was gone, was barely in the ground and the last thing I wanted was to think about good shit. I was just so angry, I couldn’t see what I did have right in front of me.”

“All that matters is that you see it now,” Thorn pointed out.

Lucky turned his head to smile at him as the first firework, burst in the sky overhead, illuminating them all in silver.

“We love you, Lucky Strike,” Cain remarked, drawing Lucky’s attention back to him. “And we’re both grateful as hell that you’re still here with us.”

Lucky touched the collar that was back around his throat, grateful that Thorn had been rational enough to remove it before the EMTs and hospital staff cut it off. It was nothing like he’d imagined, having the attention of not one, but two amazing Doms, but it was everything he’d never been willing to admit that he needed.

“I love you too,” Lucky replied, sitting up enough that he could kiss Cain, then turn and kiss Thorn too as more fireworks brightened up the sky. Green, blue, purple red, Lucky leaned against them, watching the show in awe. Simply amazing the way they looked exploding among the stars, but nothing could ever be as amazing as the two men beside him.

Lucky snuggled in close to Thorn.

He got it now, he truly did. This was what Mark had been hoping he’d find. This was what he’d been trying to explain to Lucky the night he’d come to him and offered to blindfold him for these two men. When he’d tried to explain the importance of allowing them to unwrap him and take their time and Lucky hadn’t gotten it, but he got it now.

Sighing contently, feeling them hold him safe in their arms, he vowed to show them just how much he understood it, as soon as he was healthy again. There was so much he wanted to do for them, and have them do to him. The future, was indeed as bright as the fireworks ahead, and this year, Lucky vowed to set aside the bitterness of the losses he’d suffered and the regrets he felt and focus all of his energy on living in the moment, and enjoying every single second he had with his two men.

Throwing his arms around them, Lucky held them both close as several more fireworks sent steaks of color bursting across the sky.

“I love you both, more than I can ever tell you,” he said, barely loud enough for them to hear. “But every single day, I promise to do my best to show you.”

They hugged him tighter, Thorn sliding his fingers through Lucky’s hair, crushing some in his fist as he pulled Lucky to him for a rough, possessive kiss.

“Now that’s one promise we’ll be more than happy to hold you to,” Cain told him, kissing the side of his neck as the final boom and burst of rapid fireworks erupted overhead.

Home, Lucky realized, in that final moment of noise and chaos. He was finally in the place he was always meant to be.

CHAPTER 1

Voice To Make You Quiver

“Damnit,” Cody growled as the dealer hit him with the last card he’d wanted to see. Fuckin’ nine. Another bust. He should have walked out the door five hands ago, instead, he gestured to Carla to deal, her hesitation a sure sign that she thought he should quit too. Fuck that. The voice in the back of his head had been snarling all night, pissed off and frustrated, his focus shot to hell. Eight hours on security, walking the casino floor bathed in bright lights, the echo of bells and blips reverberating around him, had left him edgy and itching to try his hand at the tables.

Rough chips.

Soft velvet.

Smooth cards.

It was touch he was aching for and since he couldn’t have it the way he wanted it, this would have to do.

Rhythm. Flow. The sound of the cards shucking on and off the table. The tap of his fingertip on the crimson-coated table indicated a hit. A short sweep of the hand meant to stand. He loved the soft click of chips being added to his stack, hated the sharper clack-rattle of their return to the dealer’s tray. The worst sight of all was busting on a double down and the sweep of all the cards wiped from the playing surface. If shit didn’t turn around soon, he was going to lose the remains of last week’s paycheck back to the house and be looking at double-time if he was to have any hope of paying his bills.

And yet he couldn’t bring himself to stop, despite the lonely presence of six pathetic chips languishing beside the casino logo in front of him. Carla met his gaze, lips pursed like she wanted to say something, but his narrow-eyed glare cut her off and she dealt instead. He’d hear about it later, when neither one of them were on the clock, he just hoped she’d keep it out of earshot of his old man, or he’d have more than just annoyed debt collectors to answer to.

Might be the best bet to just pull a double, then head up the coast and spend his day off hanging around the surf shop with Lucky, see if time on the waves with his best friend would help him sort out the chaos in his head.

Another bust. Four chips left. Sighing heavily, Cody shook his head, stepped back, and took them with him: sad, pathetic, lonely, aching, lost, torn…as good as seeing Lucky right now would be, he wasn’t in the mood for the hawk-eyed scrutiny Thorn would subject him too. The man hit like a Mack-truck too, something Cody was in no mood to experience a third time.

The first….okay, he could admit he’d deserved it, yanking Lucky into his arms and kissing the hell out of him like they were seventeen again and Lucky wasn’t collared by the two men who loved him. It had been pure exuberance, spur of the moment, fireworks overhead and Lucky laughing, wild and heady, healed, and whole from the heroics that had nearly killed him. One part relief, one part I missed you, Lucky’s hair crushed between Cody’s fingers, Cody’s tongue plundering Lucky’s mouth, one brief moment to realize Lucky wasn’t urging him closer, but shoving at his chest, trying to push him away. Then his back was hitting the ground and Thorn’s rugged body was looming over him, the sun shimmering over his shoulder, blinding Cody to the incoming fist that blackened his eye.

Wreck had infuriatingly made apologies for him, dragging Cody back to their bikes with his hand over Cody’s mouth, keeping his unchecked fury muffled behind his meaty flesh. Indignant, he’d struggled, growling, and hissing, wanting the chance to remind them all that Lucky had been his long before Thorn and Cain had entered the picture. In the end, all he’d been able to do was squawk and endure twin looks of disapproval from his old man and the confusing guy his pops had put in charge of straightening him out. Most days, Wreck just glared at him and grunted, frustrating Cody to no end, especially when Wreck’s upper lip curled up, nose scrunched like Cody was dog shit on his boots. It had been like that right from the beginning, no explanation of why, just constant judgment and an overwhelming sense of failure heaped on a steaming dumpster fire of disappointment and regret.

Stepping outside the casino, Cody sucked in a lungful of fresh air. Six months ago, he’d have been smoking at the tables like everyone else, but the constant acrid stench of it clinging to his hair and clothing from the dozens of other smokers in the room had put him off the things. Might be for the best too, considering how expensive they were and how little cash he had left in his pockets. Not enough to pay off Donnelly and get that fucker off his back for a while, barely enough to pay the interest on his pawnshop loan so he wouldn’t lose his Stratocaster, though, maybe it was time to let it go and be done with it. Wasn’t like he was any good, was just something he liked to fuck around with, and if he managed to learn a song, then cool, and if he struggled, was no one around to listen anyway.

Tonight, the rumble of the bike beneath his thighs didn’t bring joy or even peace. The wind in his hair did nothing to settle his troubled thoughts or the growing unrest that left him tenser and more despondent with every passing day. In a year he’d had his life turned upside-down, lost his best friend in addition to a part of himself he’d never realized was some fake plastic façade, brittle and too easily torn down.

Without it, everything was too raw, too prickly, and muddled up. It fuckin’ sucked, feeling like he was on edge all the time, wanting, yearning but never daring to put a voice to what it was he was in desperate need of.

Snarling, he rolled harder on the throttle, hurtling through the darkness at breakneck speed, knowing he’d never be able to react in time to save himself if something were to dart out in front of him, but since fate had never given a shit about his feelings before he doubted it would be kind enough to send a deer his way so fuck it. Every bend and twist in the road was branded on his soul anyway, his body leaned before his mind caught a clue. Blurred stars glittered in the distance, wind-stung eyes straining to track the movement of one plunging into obscurity.

Oh my god, so many wishes!

Happy Lucky was a squirmy Lucky, molded to his side, head pillowed on his shoulder, staring up at the sky where overhead, a meteor shower sent streaks racing through the heavens.

Wishes only work on stars, Cody grumbled good-naturedly, hating to dull Lucky’s enthusiasm, especially when an excited Lucky meant kisses peppering his neck and throat, all that wiggling leaving him with a warm, achy feeling low in his belly and a hard, throbbing cock Lucky would suck once they were alone again.

But that’s what meteors are silly! They’re falling stars. Lucky exclaimed, the laughter in his tone taking the sting out of being teased for once again not paying attention to something their teachers had undoubtedly gone over while Cody had been daydreaming or writing songs.

The salty tang of seawater and kelp lingered on the breeze, cool winds blowing in off the ocean, meaning Cody cuddled Lucky closer while his best friend went on and on about how meteoroids had started as parts of asteroids and comets before they’d broken apart and went tumbling around in space. It was when they got caught in earth’s atmosphere and were drawn towards the ground that they became meteors, burning up and producing the streaks of lights people called falling stars.

So then what happens to actual stars? Cody asked, impulsively kissing the side of Lucky’s head. His hair smelled like honey and the clovers they were currently laying in.

They burn out. Right now, there are stars up there that are already dead, but it takes so long for their light to reach us, that we’re still seeing the ghosts of them, sparkling in the heavens.

A whole series of air brushings, sketches, and tattoos had been born of that night, translucent forms emerging from cracked open, burned-out stardust fragments, some weathered, crooked, and stooped, others exuberant, translucent balls of energy overjoyed to finally be free.

Only, there was something else about that memory that was stuck on repeat in Cody’s mind, something that left him tense with shame and regret. Like how he’d started pulling away from Lucky not long after that night, at least, in the warm and cuddly physical sense. Instead, he’d accepted the affection Lucky lavished on him while acting like he was above returning the sentiment, using his prospects kutte and his father’s position in the club like armor against his desires.

The shadow shape in the bend of the S curve couldn’t be a deer, the proportions were wrong. Wasn’t bulky enough to be a black bear reared up on its hind legs. Downshifting, he slowed enough to determine that it was either human, llama, or someone’s Ostridge was wandering around looking to scare the shit outta someone.

Curiosity got the better of him and as soon as he could safely whip around, he went back to see what it was, half-expecting to spot nothing but a scuffed-up guardrail, only to find a vision in holey jean shorts, flip-flops, and a purple tank top with sparkly letters, the glitter spelling out wreck everything and leave. Judging from the backpack at the guy’s feet, at least one part of the slogan rang true.

“Where you headed?” Cody asked, gaze flitting to the man’s face, shimmering eyeshadow accenting brilliant blue eyes more interested in the machine Cody was sitting on than Cody himself.

“There,” the man replied, pointing towards the lights in the distance.

“That all you got?”

“Yup.”

“Ever been on one of these?”

“Practically grew up on the back of one.”

“In that case, hop on. Someplace, in particular, you’re trying to get to, or will anyplace in town do?”

“What’s my chances of finding a motel down there for under forty bucks?”

“Depends on what you’re willing to risk to stay at one,” Cody replied. “Though I wouldn’t suggest The Rest Stop unless you’re up to date on all your shots, especially tetanus. Long as your hair is, you might wanna consider investing in some lice treatment too, just in case.”

“Are we talking worst-case scenario or best?”

There was amusement in the man’s voice, resolve too, the combination making it painfully obvious he expected and had experienced, everything Cody mentioned, and more.

“Best,” Cody replied honestly. “You hungry?”

“I could eat.”

“Waffle House?”

“Hell yeah. I’m Bellamy, by the way,” the guy remarked as he swung his leg over the back of the bike and settled on the seat behind Cody. The hand he placed on Cody’s abs made them clench and for a moment, Cody feared he’d embarrass himself, biting back the groan that threatened to burst from his throat. Fuck it had been too long since he’d been touched. Closing his eyes, he took a few deep breaths to steady himself, hoping his voice didn’t betray him when he gave his name.

“I’m Cody.”

“Nice to meet you, Cody, thanks for stopping. When I took this road, I didn’t consider how little use it got. Yours was the first headlight I’d seen in an hour.”

“How many did you see before that?”

“Three, none going as fast as you were, but none of them gave me a second glance, either,” Bellamy remarked over the roar of the engine. Having someone on the back meant he slowed it down considerably, for about a mile, until Bellamy learned in, lips brushing against his ear.

“Do not slow down on my account.”

Cody did shiver then, the growl in Bellamy’s voice slithering down his spine, urging him to roll on the throttle harder than before. The night whipped past, Bellamy’s body solid at his back, making him wish he wasn’t wearing his jacket or his cut, so he could feel the warmth seep through.

The way to the bottom was a twisting series of S curves, the speed a breathtaking rush, or maybe it was the way Bellamy’s knees tightened against his hips, and the thoughts that sped through his mind whenever the man chuckled in his ear. The best part was when they reached the bottom and Bellamy threw his head back and howled at the stars.

They coasted into that Waffle House parking lot with the kind of euphoria that typically came from chemical substances Cody couldn’t afford at the moment. Wasn’t until they’d stepped inside that he realized what a true treat this would be. The clubs were closing. The clock read two-thirteen, and they were no sooner seated than the gong on the door ushering in the first shambling group of glitter high, mascara streaked, club kids with their colorful manes and sparkling fingernails.

In the light, it dawned on him that Bellamy fit right in, except for the flip-flops. Made him wonder if there were different shoes in the bag. In hindsight, he should have asked before ever allowing Bellamy on the back of his bike.

His headlight hadn’t done the man justice. As bright a blue as they’d seemed, they were brighter now, as the brilliant globe light dangling over the booth illuminated the smudged streaks of layered blue eyeshadow over his lid. Sky, ocean, twilight just highlighted the depths of his stare. The fact that it was firmly fixed on Cody made him squirm and avert his gaze, studying the chrome and red cushioned stools while they waited for menus.

“Betcha every one of them asks for hashbrowns and a stack of waffles to soak up all the Whiskey Sours and Eternal Nights they tossed back tonight,” Bellamy remarked. “Fuckin’ wanna be goths. Bunch of lightweights, every god damned one of them.”

Cody risked a glance at his face only to catch sight of the knowing smirk of someone who knew what their presence was doing to their companion.

“Sounds like a man who’s either drank them under the table or made a fuckton off wagering how fast they could get there.”

“Close.”

There was a teasing glint in Bellamy’s eyes, a sinful smirk on his face punctuated by the pink tongue he flicked out to lick lips shimmering with purple.

“Close huh, how close?” Cody asked, leaning towards him even as a buxom brunette with a brilliant smile slid their menus between them.

“Close enough to be the one sliding the drinks their way and pocketing all the tips they wished to bestow on me.”

Chuckling, Cody nodded and gave the menu a cursory glance before deciding to just order the same god damned stack of pancakes he always did. “Guessing they didn’t bestow enough for a bike or even an old shitbox of a cage.”

Snickering, Bellamy shook his head, pleasing Cody with the fact that he was amused, rather than insulted. Went a long way towards showing that Bellamy didn’t take himself too seriously. In his experience, people who did weren’t much fun to be around.

“Might have, if I didn’t have this pesky little tendency to blurt shit out without thinking about it,” Bellamy said. “In all fairness though, I didn’t know it was the owner’s son I was calling a lying cunt when the bastard tried to claim I was short pouring his drinks.”

Laughing, Cody could almost picture how that went, especially when glancing over at the latest set that stumbled in, revealed a flamingo hairpin, a heart-shaped purse with a broken arrow stabbed through it, and not the kind that would have come as an accessory either. Then there was the rooster, the cocky yardbird that had one foot on the table and one on the bench, red platform heels all scuffed up, an unlit cigarette dangling from his bottom lip, drawing all kinds of looks from the waitresses, from disdain to disapproval.

Animated, talking with his hands, stage whispering, and casting these eye-rollingly unsubtle glances at the tables closest by to see if they were listening in and if not, turning up the volume a little until he had their undivided attention.

“Bet you a side of sausage biscuits and gravy that this story spirals as out of control as a college frat boy tryin’ to describe the size of his dick,” Bellamy hissed, giggling and laughing in a way that was totally for the speaker’s benefit. In the back of his head, Cody got the distinct feeling he was missing something, but he wasn’t alone with his dismal thoughts anymore, and Bellamy was a beautiful distraction.

Not as beautiful as Lucky.

Okay, so maybe the voice in the back of his head had a point about that. Even in leathers with his cheek bruised and blood running down his chin from a split lip, Lucky always looked soft, pretty, but there was a hard edge to Bellamy impossible to miss. Was in the way he carried himself, and the vibes he exuded. The kind of confidence Cody wished he could fake.

“Look so I’m serious, this dude was not playing. Two days on the job, twenty-seven tickets, you’d think he was going for some sorta record or promotion at least. He raced this dude half a block to his car, all so he could slap a boot and a tow ticket on it at five minutes past four,” rooster crowed.

“Come on man, that’s bullshit, everyone knows you got fifteen minutes of leeway,” a gray hoodie scoffed.

“Yeah and no way in hell is someone gonna lose a footrace to a guy dragging one of those heavy ass things.” That was from kitty cat hoodie, the ears on the top a bit droopy. Must be a tired kitty.

“He didn’t have to drag it, this fucker was so woke he’d come with a pull cart so he could just drag a couple of ‘em long with him.” Rooster said. “I am dead fuckin’ serious when I say he was lookin’ to score the fastest promotion in the history of parking enforcement. This guy is no joke. Show up late to move your shit and see don’t it be gone so the yuppies can have a place for their overpriced convertibles.”

“Fuck them gentrified pricks, they don’t even belong in this neighborhood,” Kitty grumbled.

“Their money says they do,” the quietest of them remarked, never lifting his face from the blue sparkly notebook he’d begun writing in as soon as they’d dropped into their seats.

“Yeah, well fuck their money and fuck you,” the last of them, an almost mini carbon copy of rooster, snarled in the writer’s direction. That one still didn’t look up. Just flipped him off with his non-dominant hand, pen never once ceasing its path along the paper.

“It’s all the little dick energy man,” Rooster rambled. “The tow truck chain is like a penis pump, inflates the ego and casts enough of a shadow to hide what they ain’t got. Once they get that car hoisted up on the end of that hook, you could come running down the block, flapping your arms like a demented chicken, screaming about the thirty seconds you had left, and he still would only put it down if you were willing to slip him fifty-bucks. Funny how that’s the same fifty it’d cost you to get it outta the impound yard.”

“That might be funny if there was any truth behind it, but there’s not, seeing as how there are only five tow trucks left in the whole city, and fifty-seven cars waiting to be towed. Nice storytelling though,” Bellamy remarked, grinning up at the waitress like she was the only one in the room. “Think I could have a chicken and waffles plate and a coffee carafe ‘cause as much as I’d love to see you come back to refill my mug every thirty seconds, I’m sure the loudmouth and his crew over there are gonna keep you busy with ridiculous requests and even more asinine posturing.”

Giggling, she almost forgot to take Cody’s order before she left. Judging from the uproarious laughter that erupted from the back a short time later, she’d shared his comments with the rest of the staff.

“Hey what’s your problem man, whether it’s true or not it’s funny and we’re just tryin’ to have a good time,” rooster grumbled, but he took his foot off the table and the cigarette out of his mouth, pinching it between two fingers as he glared their way.

“Now see, that’s debatable,” Bellamy remarked. “Cause when I look around at the faces of everyone else at your table, no one quite seems to be having as much fun as you and Raggedy Ann over there hanging off your dick.”

Blank stares. Clearly, this wasn’t a retro bunch, though green eyes in the kitty hoodie might have been, with the way he was holding back a laugh behind his hand. The writer was. Cody watched his shoulders shake, pen held a few inches off the paper.

“Why don’t you do everyone in the room a favor and stop trying to be the center of the world and focus on being a better person. Maybe lies wouldn’t roll off your tongue so fast when it matters.

“Do I fuckin’ know you!” the guy snapped, stalking towards the table.

Cody was on his feet in a heartbeat, ready to attack or defend, but Bellamy just remained seated, looking bored and gesturing with his head for Cody to sit back down again. There was this urge to resist, but only for a second, before he obeyed, earning a curt nod from Bellamy. Funny how that minuscule bit of non-verbal praise turned his insides to goo This shouldn’t be the time for entertaining thoughts of fucking on the table.

“Oh . . . you.” Was like the storyteller deflated on the final word, all the arrogance, and disdain melting away. Even the sneer curling up the left side of his face evened out as he shuffled his feet, backstepping and half glancing over his shoulder like he was waiting for someone to get the hint and come rescue him.

“Listening to the lies you’re telling your cronies makes the lies you told earlier tonight feel less like a personal attack and more like breathing really, something that comes so natural to you that you never pause to think of the effect it might have on somebody else.”

“Didn’t think he’d fire you.”

“You didn’t think, period. You just spat out the first thing that wouldn’t get you in trouble, like a kid caught with a crackling toaster and scorch marks on the wall. Somehow the poor cat did it and you were just about to clean up the mess, right? Never mind that the next day you come home from school and the cat’s been consigned to the pound and labeled a menace.”

“I…I…” rooster stammered, frowning, skittering left and backing away more.

“Just save it,” Bellamy said. “I’m not all that sad about it, to be honest. See, if your old man hadn’t shit-canned me, Cody couldn’t have come along and given me a ride, and I wouldn’t be sitting here about to get my grub on, head filled with visions of a different kind of feast I fully intend to indulge in before the night is through.”

Rooster gulped, eyes darting between Cody and Bellamy, lips starting to purse like he had something to say.

“You wanna make it up to me, how about you pay for our supper, and help keep the atmosphere cordial by letting your friends talk for a little while? They might appreciate the chance to say something that doesn’t revolve around kissing your ass so, let’s say you give them that and spare the rest of our ears your banter, we’ve all heard enough for the night.”

As if to punctuate his statement, three ladies several tables down started clapping, and the guy in the next row growled out an ‘ain’t that the truth,’ that got the spandex and leather-clad pair at the counter doubling over so far one of them jerked back with grits clinging to a long midnight strand. Some of the staff were laughing too, like the waitress who carried out their food, and one of the cooks, in a red gingham apron, his hair tied back in a ponytail and encased in a hairnet, who carried a platter with food for two of the other tables.

“Just another reason to love Waffle House,” Bellamy remarked, rubbing his hands together in anticipation of that first bite.

***

Cody was trying to be subtle, but Bellamy didn’t miss the way his eyes lit up, even as he popped the collar on his jacket and tilted his head to the side like he was checking something out. Finally, he leaned in, inhaling, eyes closing as he let out this contented little sigh, there and gone again in an instant, cheeks heating up with a brush of color when he realized Bellamy was watching him.

“So good,” Cody slurred around his first bite. Eyes still at half-mast, he let out a shameless moan and punctuated the whole obscene image by licking the syrup off his little finger.

Two minutes later he went to do it again and Bellamy captured his wrist in a firm grip and stared up into narrowed emerald eyes, and the firm set of a jaw Bellamy was certain had weathered a punch or two. From the way his shoulders had stiffened and the tension he felt beneath his hand, it seemed to Bellamy that Cody might be contemplating throwing one of his own unless Bellamy turned that fire in the direction, he wanted it to go.

“Sorry,” Bellamy said, easing his grip off that butter-soft leather in slow increments after sucking away the syrup himself, “but your tongue was starting to give me thoughts entirely inappropriate for this venue.”

“Really?” Cody’s eyes narrowed, a challenging glint in them that got Bellamy’s blood pumping. “And what if I don’t give two shits about what’s appropriate?”

“Then you’d be under the table already,” Bellamy shot back, savoring the shift in Cody’s expression, the slight widening of his eyes, the little way he cocked his head, the sharp intake of breath he hadn’t been able to muffle.

Chuckling Bellamy moved his hand back to his side of the table. “Let’s file that away for another time, shall we.”

Deep scowl lines formed between Cody’s eyes, and if Bellamy read the situation correctly, Cody was dealing with some deep internal turmoil he didn’t have a handle on yet. Okay. He could wait. Turning his attention back to his meal, he deliberately began cutting smaller than mouth-sized bites and laying his silverware on his plate while he enjoyed them. Across from him, Cody was attacking that stack of hotcakes like they’d personally offended him, occasionally pausing to dump more syrup on the dwindling stack.

Bellamy was on his sixth cup of coffee when he realized Cody hadn’t touched the cup the waitress had poured for him. His water glass was empty, however, and occasionally, he swirled the ice in the bottom of it, staring at the slide of it swishing around like all of life’s mysteries were hidden in their depths.

“How long have you been bartending?” Cody asked, never taking his eyes off the glass. Something had shifted in their conversation that was making it difficult for Cody to look at him. Bellamy couldn’t decide if he should apologize for it, or leave it be.

“Here, sixteen days,” Bellamy admitted. “I had a day-to-day rental worked out with the management of the little motel less than a mile from where I was working. Thirty-five a night and all the cereal, juice, and teeny muffins I could eat in the morning, long as I managed to wake up during breakfast time. The best part was making more than enough tips each night to pay for the following day, or at least, I was until Raggedy Andy over there fucked it all up.”

“And before that?” Cody asked, rubbing his chin, the glass momentarily forgotten. “How much experience do you have?”

“Why, you turning dinner into a job interview?”

“Maybe. Call it a pre-interview and answer the damned question.”

Eyes narrowed into the cutest menacing glare Bellamy had seen in a long while, he wondered if Cody really believed he looked intimidating. The false bravado was as telling as the way Cody kept stroking his fingertips over the second-gen patch along the edge of his vest. Wonder what he’d think if he saw the 3rd gen patch on the vest in Bellamy’s bag.

“Pass,” Bellamy remarked calmly, turning his attention back to his food.

Sputtering, Cody tripped over his words, finally blurting out, “why?”

“’cause I ain’t no one’s stray.”

Another stammer, then a phone was slid his way, a help wanted ad on the screen. “They’ve been lookin’ for the right fit, just got this feeling it might be you.”

“Does your daddy own the place?” Bellamy asked, tone deliberately mocking. A private BDSM club would be right up his alley, but not if it would come with another Raggedy Andy.

“Nope, my mom and her and my dad’s partner Teddy, own it and they’ve been struggling to find someone who doesn’t flinch and drop a glass at the first crack of a whip.”

The phone in front of him buzzed, vibrating on the table, so Bellamy shoved it back at him and got back to the business of enjoying his food. Was impossible to miss the hardness of the voice barking questions through the phone faster than Cody could answer them.

Where the fuck are you!

You know what, I don’t care, because I know where you should be and you’re not there!

Have you checked your texts? If you haven’t, let me save you the trouble, get your ass to Joker’s Wild, your old man’s pissed. He got a call from Carla tonight, which means I got my ass chewed! You are done working at that casino. That’s not even from me, that’s from your old man! Tell you what is from me, fifteen fuckin’ minutes, that’s how long you’ve got to get my bike back here!

“The fuck do you mean, your bike!”

“You owe people all over town, and some of them came calling. Your old man wasn’t impressed, and neither was I, so seeing as how his name is on the title, he sold it to me and paid what you owed. And now you have fourteen minutes, I’d get moving if I was you. Unless you want me to send Moody and his boys out to retrieve you.”

“Go to hell,” Cody snarled, ending the call with a jab of his finger, eyes roving everywhere but in Bellamy’s direction. Standing, he reached for his wallet, pulling a twenty from his billfold.

“No need,” Bellamy said, making sure his voice would carry across the room. “Raggedy Andy’s got us, don’t you Andy.”

Rooster nodded and ducked his head.

“It…I um…” Cody stammered, looking embarrassed and uncertain. “Was nice meeting you. Good luck, sorry the night got cut short.”

“I’m not,” Bellamy replied, turning his gaze back to the final bites of his meal. “You’re not ready to be honest with yourself, and as you notice, I’ve got a problem with liars.”

Waving the back of his hand towards the door, he hoped Cody got the hint before he took the brat over his knee right there in the restaurant and showed him how far posturing and false bravado would get him.

Table of Contents

Burning Luck

Copyright

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-one

Chapter Twenty-two

Epilogue

Chapter 1