Haven 1: How to Save a Life (32 page)

Luke examined him, a careful observation only a friend would make. “This is more than falling for him. You’re already there.”

Walter glanced down the hall, fighting every instinct to go after Kevin. “I haven’t known him that long.”

“Sometimes it doesn’t take long.”

“So now you’re the poster gay man for relationships?”

“Maybe I am. I think you need this.”

“I remember saying something similar to you when you first met Richard and Matthew. I believe you said you were just enjoying your life.”

“Well, I’m enjoying it even more now that I didn’t let them get away.”

“It was more that they didn’t let
you
get away.”

Luke held his arms out wide. “And look how it turned out.”

Walter sighed. He wasn’t going to win this argument. “Did you miss the part where I said I’m older than his father?”

“By a
year
.” Kevin stood at the end of the hall, now dressed in jeans and an
Avengers
superhero T-shirt. “Get over it already. Do you always sabotage the good stuff in your life?”

The smirk was back on Luke’s face. “I like him.” That smile was in direct contrast to the annoyed look Kevin sported, aimed more at Luke than Walter.

Jealousy?

“You must be Kevin.” Luke crossed the room and held out a hand. They shook, and Luke added, “I can’t tell you how nice it is to meet you.”

Kevin looked to Walter, then back to Luke. “Who are you?”

“Just a friend.”

Now that they’d gotten closer, Kevin examined Luke with a curious scrutiny more like his typical expression than the jealous one. “You’re Luke Moore. Your dad is that senator who was arrested.”

“Yeah, that’s the old man.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have blurted that out. It’s just…” Kevin’s gaze swung between Walter and Luke again. “I didn’t realize when Walter mentioned you that you were the same Luke. I didn’t cover the story for my paper, but I remember getting pissed about it.”

“Why?”

“The press kept focusing on you and your life, not the senator.”

“I appreciate that.”

The two seemed to have come to an understanding or a mutual respect. The smirk had faded from Luke’s face, and the leer had done the same from Kevin’s.

“I’m glad I got a chance to meet you.” Luke offered his hand again. Before letting go, he leaned in and whispered something to Kevin that Walter couldn’t hear.

Kevin’s eyes widened, and he watched Luke turn away and say good-bye to Walter, then walk out the door. Kevin went into the living room and stopped before the couch, staring at the picture of the couple kissing.

“You remind me of him,” Walter said.

“Me? He seems”—Kevin waved an arm through the air—“out.”

“He is. But when I first met Luke, he didn’t have a clue what he wanted. I had to walk a fine line to even get him to trust me.”

Without taking his gaze off the depiction of the embracing men, Kevin asked, “Is that how you saw me?”

“At first. You were afraid of letting go. Until I kissed you.”

“Yeah.” His lips turned up in a slight smile. “It was a talented kiss.”

“I didn’t turn you gay.”

Kevin snapped his head in Walter’s direction. “I know that. I’ve always been gay.”

Walter couldn’t hold back the smile any longer. “Yeah, you have.”

“Jerk.” Kevin laughed. Then all at once the humor was gone from his voice. “Do you trust
me
?”

“Yes.” Walter went to him and forced Kevin to face him. “I trust you.”

The look in Kevin’s wide eyes was both determined and unsure, like there were things he wanted to ask but couldn’t bring himself to say the words. Eventually he said, “I’m sorry about last night.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about.”

“I shouldn’t have…” Kevin raised a hand and touched Walter’s cheek below the eye where he’d punched him. Gently he held Walter’s head in his hands and drew him down as he leaned in. He pressed a kiss to Walter’s eyelid, a slight brush of his lips.

Then the kiss moved to Walter’s cheek, his mouth, Kevin kissing slower, softer than he’d ever done before. Nothing urgent. Nothing but their touch, their coming together, a slow building of passion in every lingering caress of their lips.

Kevin turned them and encouraged Walter onto the couch. He straddled Walter’s lap and gave another long, deep kiss. Then the kisses became more open, more passionate. Kevin pulled back in a rush. That look, like he had something to say, had returned. He held still, his gaze locked on Walter’s lips.

Walter held back on his usual instinct to encourage Kevin to talk and instead asked, “What did Luke say to you before he left?”

“Not to let you push me away.”

“He shouldn’t have—”

“He knows you.”

“Yeah, I guess he does.” Walter pulled Kevin in closer, needing more contact with him. “Kevin, I’m too old for—”

“Don’t.” Kevin held Walter’s face again. “Don’t say it. God, I’ve wanted this for so long.” He stroked Walter’s cheeks with his thumbs. “And now that I know it’s you I’ve been waiting for, I’m not letting you go.”

As much as Walter wanted to fight Kevin on it, that sounded right to him.

Like something to treasure—like something worth protecting.

Chapter Twenty-Five

The Protector opened the door, crossed the expanse of the dark room, and deposited the camera bag by the second door that led to his office.

The room was quiet. Too quiet. Time to get his boys feeling something again. He would hang the latest photographs he’d taken later.

He never wanted to keep his boys waiting for too long. He wanted them to know he was there. That they had no reason to fear he would never return.

First the newest one. Dylan. The Protector had put him in the cage closest to his office on purpose. That one always had an eye out for an escape route. He’d even managed to run from him once. He hadn’t made it far and he couldn’t get out of the building, but still, better to be safe. The Protector would never forgive himself if any of them got hurt—or worse, ended up back at that disgusting club.

He flipped on the light over his workbench and faced his boys. Dylan was sitting on the pillow inside the first cage, his legs pulled up and his head resting on his bare knees. That wouldn’t do. His boys were naked for a reason. He wanted to see their lovely bodies.

The Protector banged on the cage door.

Dylan lifted his head but didn’t speak.

“Say something, boy. You’re always talking.”

“We’re hungry.”

“Food will be up later. First we play.”

Dylan bit his bottom lip.

So quiet today.

“Please, can we just rest today? Please.”

The Protector liked that. Liked when they begged. “Be good while I get set up, and I’ll give you what you need.” He moved on to the next cage, then the next, checking each of his boys. Until he reached the last one. Empty.

No.

He gingerly ran the tips of his fingers over the metal bars, waiting for his boy to reappear there, like he’d merely imagined the nightmare of that empty pillow.

But he hadn’t.

He clutched the bars in both hands. “Where is he?” None of the boys answered. “Damn it.” He stalked back to Dylan’s cage. “Where is he?”

“He took him. We thought…we thought you sent him.”

“Who?” It couldn’t be the ex-cop Simon. If he’d been in there, he would’ve taken all his boys.

“I don’t know,” Dylan said. “A man. He didn’t say anything, wouldn’t tell me where he was taking Seth.”

The Protector didn’t need to ask any other questions. He knew who had been in his rooms. Only one man always thought he needed to take care of things for him, to keep the Protector out of trouble.

This time he’d gone too far.

His boy had to be scared. He’d had a taste of a better life, and he’d been ripped away from it. Who knew where he’d been taken? What was happening to him? Was he back at that disgusting club? Was some selfish bastard using and discarding him again?

The Protector headed for his office and flipped on the video monitors. He scanned the Haven. Nothing. No sign of any members or employees. No sign of anyone lurking about.

Then he spotted someone lying very still in the darkness.

Seth Fisher.

Lifeless, covered in blood.

No.

The Protector staggered backward.

He
was not getting away with this. No matter who he worked for. No matter what he’d done to help the Protector in the past. He would pay for this.

* * * *

Kevin didn’t want to move from where he sat straddling Walter’s lap.

Maybe it was all they’d learned in the past twenty-four hours. Or maybe it was Luke’s whispered words earlier. No matter the reason, Kevin couldn’t break the contact of their bodies or the kisses. The rasp of facial hair against the skin of his own chin and lips was an entirely new sensation. Kevin wanted to feel Walter nuzzle his jaw against every part of his bare body.

The kisses slowed. Grew sensual, more about where they were in that moment than where they were headed. Kevin liked that. Liked that Walter was right there with him.

Kevin had never known two people could be like this together. He’d never felt this comfortable or alive with someone, never wanted to touch and connect and be everything they needed.

Walter swept a hand down Kevin’s back slowly, the caress lingering on his lower back, pulling him even closer. The kiss deepened, Walter’s tongue seeking out contact with his again and again. Kevin melted into the touches, the sweet slide of Walter’s hands and lips.

He wanted this to go on all day. But he also had to know. Kevin forced himself to pull back. “Were you able to find out anything yet?”

“Yeah.” Walter settled his hands on Kevin’s thighs, waited, grinned. “I think we got him.”

“What?” Kevin slid off his lap and sat on the couch, hope rushing through him. “What?”

“This morning I kept on looking for a connection between Prescott and Eubank Industries, and whatever else I could find out about him. Prescott’s from a wealthy family, hence the fancy name. He went to boarding school and everything. When he was twenty-two, he signed up with the fire department. That’s when his father cut him off, no money, no family contact. I ran a check on his financial records. He’s got more cash than he could’ve earned as a firefighter. He’s done a good job hiding it—and spending it—but from the amounts I found, he’s either back to receiving money from his family or he’s been taking on extra work for a long while.”

“Like trying to force Vargas to sell the club.”

“Right. Took me some time to track the money, but I finally found something. Ten years ago he began receiving payments from Eubank Industries.”

Kevin sat taller. “No shit?”

“He’s obviously working for them. Has been for years. I called Gibson. He’s taking it to Henderson, and if he won’t follow through on it, Gibson’s going over his head to their commander.”

“Are you sure that’s the right move?”

“What other choice do we have? It’ll take police involvement to get anyone at Eubank Industries to talk if they know how to find Prescott.”

“I guess.”

“The most important thing,” Walter said, “is that there’s a way to track him down now. They’re going to find Dylan and the others.”

The relief rushed through Kevin. He hadn’t realized just how tense he’d been until that moment. Maybe Prescott did have Seth and Dylan and the others locked up where he was hiding. They’d be rescued when the police found him, and this would all be over soon. Kevin sank back against the couch and let that thought wash over him. He pointed to a device beside Walter. “What’s that?”

“A special computer with built-in software to hack into financial institutions. It can simulate almost any computer, any IP address in the world.”

“Look at you. You’re all James Bond again.”

Walter’s brow furrowed. “Again? When was I all James Bond before?”

“The same time you were a vampire.”

“A vampire? That’s going to require an explanation.”

“Um…no.”

“You’re such a tease.”

“Nope.” Kevin slid closer. “I believe we’ve established I put out.” He distracted Walter with more kisses. No way did he want to explain the vampire thing.

The phone rang. Walter reached for it on the end table beside the couch. Ten seconds into the call, he sat up like a shot, all business. “What?” He listened, a concentrated frown on his face. “We’ll be right there.” He hung up and flew off the couch. “We have to go.”

“What is it?”

“They found Seth Fisher.”

* * * *

The sliding doors to the hospital emergency room opened, and Walter entered without breaking stride, scanning the waiting area for Vargas as he went, Kevin on his heels.

Vargas stood near a row of seats along the back wall of the crowded waiting area. As soon as he spotted them, he strode their way. His white dress shirt was untucked, the sleeves rolled up. Streaks of dried blood covered his tattooed arms and the front of the shirt, with more splotches on his pants. He had some kind of gold jewelry dangling from his right hand.

“It’s bad.” His voice gave away the barely restrained frustration. And the fear.

“But he’s…” Walter couldn’t say more than that.

“He’s alive. Barely. They don’t know if he’ll wake up.”

“You were the one who found him?”

Vargas nodded. “He was lying across a table in the dining room. I thought he was…” Vargas gripped the metal object tighter. Drops of perspiration dotted his pale brow. His chest heaved with each breath.

Walter gestured to the chairs near where Vargas had been standing. “Why don’t you take a seat?”

The three of them crossed to the chairs. Walter and Kevin sat, but Vargas stood staring at the empty chair beside them for another minute.

A child cried out from somewhere down the hall, the siren of an ambulance wailed in the distance, and a loudspeaker announced an incoming trauma. Finally Vargas dropped into the chair, and he startled when the metal legs scraped along the floor.

“You okay?” Walter asked.

Vargas didn’t answer. Instead he said, “The police are at the club talking to the two in security who were on duty. Even though we weren’t open, I’ve had someone watching the place around the clock. The cops are coming here next. Guess they want to ask me questions.” He ran his thumbs over the gold object he’d been holding on to. A key chain in the shape of a dog’s paw print. He flipped it over. The other side contained a photo of Charlie. “He had this in his hand. It fell when the EMTs moved him. I probably shouldn’t have picked it up, huh?”