Aftermath

Aftermath

Copyright © 2013 by Cara Dee

Edited by Lisa A. Hollett

Disclaimer: This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with others, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and you did not purchase it or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Warning:
This story contains violence and scenes of an explicit, erotic nature between two men and is intended for adults, 18+. Characters portrayed are 18 or older.

*

Special thanks to L1, L2, Emma, and Meurinne. I couldn’t have done it without your support and help.

Unable to sleep, Austin left the bed, slid on his new black-framed glasses, and trudged downstairs. It was August, and that meant the A/C was working around the clock, but Austin still preferred the fresh air outside.

That could be considered ironic because Bakersfield topped many lists of cities where it was too polluted and dirty. But after having spent five months in a basement against his will, nothing was going to stop him from being outside.

Wearing only his sleep pants, he pushed open the patio door and slumped down in one of the chairs. Immediately he regretted not grabbing a glass of bourbon first, but he was too lazy to bother now. Instead he sat silently, absently massaging his bandaged wrists, and stared out at the backyard, only illuminated by the lights in the large swimming pool.

His wife's words were still wreaking havoc inside of him, and he suspected that was one of the reasons he couldn’t sleep.

"We have to leave this behind us now, Austin. It's in the past. I miss you, and I want you back."

Jade, Austin's wife of fifteen years, wasn’t a cruel woman; he wouldn’t have stayed married to her if that were the case. But to say something like that… How did you simply leave a five-month long kidnapping behind you? How did you move on? How did you ignore a time in your life where you didn’t know if you'd even live to see tomorrow?

He often tried to talk to her about it, but she wouldn’t hear him out. She kept repeating her words about leaving the past in the past.

Scrubbing a hand over his jaw, he groaned and then rubbed his shoulder—the one that was still bothering him. It had been about a month now since he and another six men had returned to freedom, and he'd been poked and prodded by too many doctors to count.

His eyes were still sensitive to direct sunlight. His body was slowly healing after being beaten and broken in captivity. He had constant headaches, which only got worse with the new glasses he had to get used to. The dull ache in his ribs annoyed him. Scars now decorated his body, and he'd lost too much weight too quickly, so every meal now came with protein shake supplements along with the pain medication he'd been prescribed. There was also a physical therapist involved, as well as a psychologist specializing in trauma.

Yeah, let's just move on.

Austin snorted quietly to himself and leaned his head back, struggling with his anger.

Anger was new. He'd always been a quiet man, content to be content, and had never been demanding. But now? Christ, he was constantly on the verge of lashing out, especially when one of his headaches began to pound. During a few questionings by the police, and one particularly gruesome interview by a news reporter, Austin had stormed out before he could either do serious damage to furniture or rearrange a few faces.

Questions bothered him, because he didn’t have concrete answers, so maybe his wife's request was good. Perhaps he could just let this die; he'd move on and pretend everything was all right.

I hear Santa's real, too.

"Daddy?"

Austin's head snapped around; he'd clearly been too deep into his thoughts to hear the patio door opening. "What're you doing up, baby girl?" he asked, clearing his throat. He waved her forward, his heart giving an extra thump at the sight of his ten-year-old. In captivity, he had missed her so much. Her hazel eyes, light brown hair, and heart-shaped face reminded him of what was worth fighting for.

"Can't sleep." Riley shrugged and padded over to him, hopping up to sit on her father's lap.

He was usually "Dad," but after coming back home, Riley had reverted to the little girl she once was in need of comfort. But you wouldn’t find Austin complaining. He held his girl close and kissed the top of her head.

"Do I
have
to go to Nana and Pops' tomorrow?" she asked sullenly.

Austin cracked a small smile, although there really wasn’t any humor in the situation. Riley adored Austin's parents—secretly a lot more than Gramma and Gramps on Jade's side—but nowadays, Riley was reluctant to leave his side.

It was a good thing it was summer break. Austin had a feeling it wouldn’t have been easy to ship off Riley to school every morning.

"You know I won't be home, anyway," he murmured. "You'll have fun with Nana and Pops. I heard they're taking you to the zoo." He stifled a yawn, too tired for words, but knew his mind wouldn’t let him fall asleep.

Another reason Austin couldn’t sleep was his odd need to check in with Cam—the man he'd been thrown into a cage-like cell with all those months ago. After spending most of that time together, they'd formed a bond he didn’t understand, but it was there nonetheless. In fact, it felt wrong not to see him every day now. Since they'd been returned to freedom, they'd only seen each other in passing, and Cam had called him yesterday and told him, "Get your ass to my house."

To an outsider, Cameron Nash was standoffish and almost appeared threatening. He looked like a bad boy, talked like he didn’t give a rat's ass, and walked like someone you didn’t want to meet in a dark alley. Not like he owned the world, but…more like,
"I fucking dare you to take one step closer."
But Austin knew better. He knew it was a shield Cam put up to defend himself.

"But you'll be home by dinner, right?" Riley's soft voice brought Austin back once more.

"I promise." He gave her a squeeze.

Later, when he'd convinced Riley to go back to bed, Austin found himself dozing off in the chair on the patio, and the flashbacks and bad dreams followed quickly.

*

After paying for the gas, Austin returned to his wife's Rover, eager to continue his day off. It had only been interrupted because Jade was going shopping later, and she hated having to stop for gas. Because Riley wanted ice cream, Austin had offered to step out for a bit to fill up the car and buy strawberry popsicles.

It was Saturday, and with the thermometer showing 89 degrees, it was a record-breaking day for early February. It meant a pool day for the Huntleys. Well, at least for Austin and Riley. Jade didn’t go near the pool until the weather had heated up the water a bit more.

Before Austin could close the car door behind himself, there was suddenly a hand shooting up. The stranger acted while Austin was in shock, and soon a cloth covered his nose and mouth. During a brief struggle, he inhaled sickeningly sweet vapors of something chemical through a gasp, which caused numbness to set in and his vision to blur. Only a few seconds later, he was unconscious.

When he woke up, not for the first time, he was dazed, nauseated, cuffed, confused, and he was enveloped in darkness.
That
was a first. The few times he'd woken up before, that meaty hand had reappeared and covered his mouth and nose again with the same cloth, and Austin hadn't been strong enough to fight. And it hadn't been dark. But now…

He looked around himself, panic creeping up his spine, but he saw nothing. Not even his hands that he could feel cuffed together in front of him. It was pitch-black, and as his senses slowly returned to him, he gagged at the smell of sweat, urine, and vomit.

"He-hello?" he croaked as a furious headache settled in. Judging by how his voice carried, he guessed he was in a small space.

Then there was a response. "Not your lucky day, man."

Fear shot through Austin, and he automatically pulled his legs closer to his body and raised his arms in case a fight was coming. He was definitely not alone in this small…wherever he was.

"Where am I?" Austin demanded in a rasp.

This time, the man spoke softer. "No idea."

After his shower, Cam paced in his living room, still only wearing the towel around his narrow hips. He hadn't shaved yet, which he'd told himself to do today, but he had more important things on his mind. Austin was late, and it made Cam annoyed as
fuck
.

Sitting down on the edge of his bed, his knee started to bounce, and he tapped the pad of his thumb along the fingertips on his right hand. Then he did the left twice. His silvery gray eyes slid to the clock above the flat screen, and he scowled.

I'm gonna punch him in the fucking face
.

Cam quickly grew impatient, although he'd probably passed impatient the minute it was noon. Reaching over to the low coffee table, he snatched up his pack of smokes and a lighter, then lit one up and took a deep, calming drag. Meanwhile, he looked down and touched his thumb to the remaining four fingers on his right hand. Just the tips. Over and over. While he breathed deeply through his nose.

It helped him to handle stress—something to focus on.

As had become common now, every window in the entire house—not that it was big; just a two-bedroom, one-story home—was open, and the lamps were timed to switch on at sunset. Landon, his older brother, had bought him a bunch of those timers.

Another thing that had changed was that he now slept in the living room. His bed had replaced the couch. It was more open and spacious than his bedroom down the hall.

He was lucky his family had pitched in to pay the bills—mortgage and utilities—while Cam was…elsewhere. They said renting it out would be like not believing Cam was still alive.

Tomorrow was his thirty-fourth birthday, and he dreaded having the house filled with family and coworkers. He wouldn’t call them friends, 'cause he shied away from those. But there were four other guys working in his brother's garage, Cam not included, and they'd be here, too.

He'd thought about inviting Austin, but then he'd changed his mind. Austin would probably bring his wife and kid, and that meant more people crowding him. Plus, he'd already met Jade once and that was enough.

So not going down that path.

He was adamant about seeing Austin today, though, 'cause it had been too long. Austin had shut down around the same time they started giving their statements to the police, and now Cam was gonna intervene.

Checking the time again, he pushed back his dark hair that was in serious need of a cut, and he nodded to himself.
Fifteen minutes
. Austin was fifteen minutes late. That mother
fucker
.

Thankfully, as Cam stubbed out his smoke in an ashtray, the doorbell rang, and he was off the bed in a flash. He secured the towel around his hips and went to the door, nearly ripping it open.

"Don’t you own a fucking watch?" he asked irritably.

Austin raised a brow over his glasses. Those were new, by the way. Cam hadn't seen them before, and he…he liked them. They kinda made Austin look all authoritative—

"Want me to leave again?" There was a dare in Austin's dry tone.

Cam glared and left the small hallway, counting on Austin to follow. Crossing the living room, he walked out the door that led to the small backyard. There was no grass; Cam hated mowing the lawn. When he'd bought this house a few years ago, he and his brother had taken a couple weekends to pave the area around the kidney-shaped pool with flat stones and build a wooden patio. The pool took up most of the space, and it brought back memories of some of the things he and Austin had talked about missing when…

Cam shook his head, not wanting to think about it. Instead he sat down in a chair and waited for Austin to join him. There was a cooler with beers between two chairs, and depending on how long Austin stayed, there were two steaks in the fridge, soaking in marinade.

There was also an umbrella to shield them from the worst of the sun.

The steaks and the beer made it worth popping an endless amount of Pepto. Yeah, his fucking nutritionist had told him to stick to "stomach-friendly" foods for now, but if he wanted a fucking steak, he'd eat one.

Austin eventually walked out and sat down, too, and he was dressed appropriately for this weather—cargo shorts and a T-shirt. It was fucking insane how much clothes had come to matter to Cam and possibly the others who had been taken, as well. 'Cause you took a lot of shit for granted. Like wearing what you wanted.

During…
that time
…Cam had been stuck in the coveralls he wore at the garage. Which he'd never wear again. Landon had already assured him he could work in other clothes—when he eventually returned to work, of course.