Let It Go (20 page)

The last time he’d met up with Owen, he swore to end things. He didn’t trick anymore and didn’t want anything to do with Owen. Owen didn’t want to hear his refusal. He paid him well for the hours spent in his hotel room. Enough to cover the medical expenses that always came after with money left over for other things. No. Just no.

Creed looked around the parking lot for any sign of the blond giant of a man. Just because he didn’t see him didn’t mean he wasn’t there. He’d learned that the hard way. He tried to stop the panic racing through his mind. He was smarter than this. He judged the distance from the back of the lot to the building. The good news was his room was on the bottom floor; the bad news was this was a hotel, not a motel where the rooms opened up to the outside. He would have to get to the nearest entrance first and that was around front. He could get inside from there and hide in the bathroom. His dad would be fucked up by now. He wouldn’t remember how much money Creed had just won and how much he wouldn’t be getting for drugs. There would be no worry about that party tonight. He’d moved on to meth recently. He could hide the smack but he wasn’t hiding this shit well. People could tell. People talked. People wondered if he used. Creed never used. No needles. Never. Blood tests were one thing. Cheek swabs and blood tests kept him sane when he couldn’t control his tricks.

He moved through the cars keeping out of sight as best he could. The entrance was just across the lot now; he palmed his key card. He’d planned to go hang out with a few of the riders. He wouldn’t see them for a while. The crazy part of him hoped that maybe Eli would hang around, but the buckle bunnies at the casino would keep him busy. Too much time passed while he contemplated his options. Maybe going to his room wasn’t the best idea. He knew how to disappear. It was why he always wore black at night now. He could find a shadowy alley and get away. Once he hit the ground running there wasn’t a soul on two feet who could catch him. Too many devils to hide from. Too many options.

The lesser devil won out. He started across the lot, his gaze on the entrance. He didn’t notice the figure between a minivan and a PT Cruiser until fingers twined in his hair, pulling the leather strip out.

“My pretty cunt.” His mouth tasted of whiskey and evil but Creed knew better than to fight him. “Come on. Before someone sees. We have too much time to make up for, for a quickie in the parking lot.” Owen twisted his hand in Creed’s hair and pushed him toward the back of the lot. He’d never been inside the RV; Owen usually took a room on the nights he wanted more of Creed’s company. He’d always figured that was so Eli wouldn’t walk in on them. But Eli hadn’t been a factor in where Owen took him in years. Five years to be exact. Still, he’d never been in Owen’s complete control before. Most often he cornered him in a bathroom or between the trailers and fucked him once, maybe twice, before letting him go. Owen made sure he came. His kisses were infrequent but brutal, possessive, each encounter becoming more and more violent. Owen shoved him ahead, reminding him of the first time in Texas.

“Uncle Owen…” he said sweetly, using the voice he’d mastered years ago to keep the men who would hurt him in line. But Owen didn’t like the voice. He growled in his ear and shoved him harder. His scalp screamed at the grip in his hair. He kept control of his feet. The one time Owen had dragged him across the sidewalk to his room had left him raw for several days.

“Shut up, cunt.” Owen looked around the deserted parking lot. Creed could feel the outline of the man’s cock pressed into his back. Shit, this wasn’t going to be a short visit. “Get inside and get naked. On the bed in the back.”

He climbed the steps into the RV past the kitchenette to the rear, stripping as he went. When he was undressed he climbed onto the bed on his knees and waited. The handcuffs secured to a bolt on the wall scared the hell out of him.

“That’s right, you’re mine, and this time there is no sneaking off when I’m done with you.”

Hours passed. Creed retreated to that place in his head where there was no pain or fear. He remembered to call for Uncle Owen when he came. Begging prettily for more. Harder. Please, Uncle Owen. He pretended not to hear Eli’s name when cum shot down his throat or inside his ass. He pretended that the first slap to his face didn’t hurt. Or the fist to his belly. The bites that drew blood were just mild distractions. “Tell me, you cunt. Tell me.”

“Love you, Uncle Owen. Please, fuck me again. Love you so much.” And Owen would hold him almost as if he were a cherished lover. His kisses dispelled that notion. All night. He drifted off while Owen rested up for the next round. Then he’d wake up and hold still while rough hands held him down. His wrists hurt from jerking at the cuffs. His shoulders had gone numb hours ago. He was too exhausted to notice when Owen climbed from the bed.

“Sun will be up soon. I want to get on the road before one of your people notices you didn’t come home last night. I need to pick up a few supplies first. Stay put.” Owen dressed quickly; leaning over him, he kissed him, letting his hands roam Creed’s body. “Taking you to my place, I’m done with rodeo, going to get my money’s worth out of you. Keep you. You’re mine, don’t you ever forget that.”

Silence filled his ears followed by sheer panic. Rape and torture was the total of his future. He was so damned close to being free. So damned close. If Owen took him, he would never be free. He couldn’t think. Panic squeezed every thought out of his head. Get away get away get away. The key to the cuffs sat on the nightstand. Not far, but out of his reach. He tried to hook the small metal ring with his toes but just ended up knocking them to the floor. “Please. Please. Please. Oh, God, help me. Please.” He couldn’t stop the tears from flowing now.

He screamed when he shattered his thumb pulling the now useless joint back until the digit hung limp. He screamed again when he slid his hand from the one cuff. He found the key and, using his teeth, freed himself from the shackle that was his future with Owen. His jeans weren’t far away. Using one hand he struggled into them, and his shirt. He left his boots and wallet behind.

He didn’t look when he darted out into the dark. He just ran, his hair reeking of sweat and sex and Owen. He wanted to pull it all from his head. He ran. Holding his hand to his chest. Into the hotel through a side door that was open now. Orange and pink light filled the desert sky. They were supposed to be on the road at dawn. Someone from his crew would be up and would help him. He ran; he couldn’t remember his room number. There was one lone figure in the corridor. A navy blue ball cap on his long red hair. The figure staggered a bit. Creed didn’t stop to think; he ran toward the figure. He knew that hair; he’d lusted after that body. He just wanted to be safe. He wanted to be free and safe and Eli would protect him. He didn’t know why he thought that. “Eli, help me. Eli.” He couldn’t speak loud enough for Eli to hear. Pain churned in his brain, his vision wavering as he moved toward him. “Eli, help me, please.”

Eli’s arms came around him, holding him, or at least he tried to hold him. Creed lost control of the pain now; he lost control of his legs and sank to the floor taking Eli with him. Eli looked down at him; there was no recognition in his eyes and then he sobered up. “Creed! Somebody help me. Shit, Creed what happened to you?”

There was another voice close by. This one familiar. “Creed. Fuck, where the hell have you been?” Not his father. His father would be passed out cold now. Sly, who was always there when he needed him. Sly and Eli. The only two constants in his fucked-up life. He took him from Eli. Lifted him off his feet. “Shit, what’s wrong with your hand, son?”

The last thing Creed remembered seeing was Eli sitting on the floor, his navy blue ball cap on the floor, his face so white his freckles stood out. And then there was only dark, blessed relief.

* * * *

He didn’t sleep much that night. Nurses came to check on him every half hour. Creed slept like the dead; his hands twitched against Eli’s bruised ribs. Eli didn’t mind. The nurses, a couple he knew from around town, didn’t say anything. He could tell they were thinking, overthinking. He knew his secret would be out after this stay, but he didn’t care. Creed snuggled against his side, his eyes moving behind golden lids. He whimpered in his sleep a couple of times. Eli loved him. Or something close to love. Content. He never knew what that word meant before now, he realized.

Creed made him want to set down roots and build something. The last thing he remembered from that afternoon was Creed confessing that he wanted to stay. Eli didn’t care if it was for his horses or the money or whatever. Creed wanted to stay and he at least enjoyed kissing Eli enough to play with him. And goddamn they were playing. Like a couple of kids. Laughing and flirting. That cold, detached look had left Creed’s eyes, replaced by something warm and happy. That’s what he wanted. To play with Creed, to see him smile, to see him happy. To make him happy. Eli’s chest ached and it had nothing to do with his bruised ribs.

He took Creed’s left hand in his and stroked the scar. Creed sighed in his sleep and closed his hand around Eli’s. “I didn’t lie when I said I loved you, you know,” he whispered, if only to hear the words out loud.

“I know,” Creed responded though his eyes stayed closed, his breath even. Eli waited for him to say more. He held his hand and waited for a return of his words, but Creed slept on.

“You make me happy; I can’t remember a time when I could say that, maybe when I was a kid.” Eli squeezed Creed’s hand, holding on tight. “I don’t want to lose that now that I found it. I don’t want to lose you, Creed.”

“Me either.” Creed sighed, his chest expanding for a moment. “Scared.”

“Of me?”

“Of falling in love.”

“Oh.” Disappointment twisted in Eli’s gut.

“Too late to stop it.” Creed smiled, placing a kiss on Eli’s chest.

“Creed, are you awake?”

“No.”

“Just talking in your sleep then?”

“Yeah, must be.”

“I thought so.” He lay against the pillow listening to Creed breathe, his mind whirling in more directions than he could keep up with. He’d gut the house, donate his parents’ things—it wasn’t as if he’d looked at their belongings in the fifteen years since their deaths. Build a suite for him and Creed. Something large enough that they could share without killing each other. Buy more horses. Restore the barn, maybe build another stable and put in a setup like Sawyer had. More cattle. He wanted to put down roots. He was tired of the vagabond lifestyle. Sick to death of it.

“You’re thinking too hard, Eli.” Creed shifted against him, making him grunt. His hot mouth grazed Eli’s neck.

“Sorry. Do you know what I want?”

“My mouth on your dick?” Another kiss made Eli groan. Oh, yeah, that would be just about the greatest thing ever.

“Are you sleep sexing me?” he asked, because Eli couldn’t think of anything that didn’t involve Creed’s mouth on him in some way or another.

“Is it working?” Creed slipped into that higher-pitched voice he used sometimes. The sweet, flirtatious timbre made Eli shiver.

“Yeah, baby, it’s working. I want to make love to you so badly it hurts.” He pulled Creed closer, forgetting his ribs hurt.

“When we get home. I’ll stay naked with you for a week.” The words were sleep slurred, Creed’s body so warm against his Eli wanted to curl into him and never let him go. Sleeping with him, just like this, damn, he’d never experienced anything so erotic before. Just lying together talking, touching, sleeping. Eli yawned.

“Promises, promises. Going to hold you to that.” He felt Creed’s breathing shift, growing deeper, more even as he went back under. “Creed?”

“Hmmm?” Creed hummed against his neck, a sleepy sound that made Eli tingle.

“Do you love me? Maybe just a little?” He had no idea why he asked. Crazy came to mind. But it seemed Creed was in a truthful mood and Eli needed to know.

“Yeah … I do.” The words were so soft Eli almost didn’t hear them. His heart fluttered and flitted around his chest only to plunge to his stomach.

“Really? I mean, you’re not just saying that so I’ll shut up,” he said, trying not to breathe wrong lest he wake Creed up and all of this would be him sleep talking.

“There’s only one way to shut you up,” Creed said, his mouth stretched into a grin that Eli felt against his shoulder. “My dick in your mouth. Mmmmm. Eli? I love you. Now shut up and go to sleep.”

“Will you remember this in the morning?” Eli felt the world spinning around him, thrilled, terrified, ecstatic, extremely terrified, cold and hot running emotions that he had no idea how to control.

“Yeah. I’m a light sleeper.” Creed yawned, the warmth of his breath caressing Eli’s skin, making him want from just a damned yawn. “But if you don’t shut up I’ll happily suffocate you with your pillow.”

“That’s the Creed I know.” Eli let the words
and love
remain unspoken for fear of making Creed go back on his declaration.

“Mmm, tell me you love me again,” Creed whispered through another yawn.

“I love you, want to say it over and over and shout it from rooftops.”

“The cows might just think you’re crazy, but hey, whatever gets you off, go for it.” He laughed, softly sleepy green eyes opening just a little, his gaze warm, his lips soft on Eli’s chin. “Love you too.”

Eli could see the truth in his eyes. Love and fear swirling in one giant maelstrom in those incredible eyes. “Go back to sleep.” Creed smiled shyly; his eyes drifted closed, face still upturned, his breath even. His eyes moved behind the lids, dreaming again already, and Eli hoped like hell that he was awake enough to remember this conversation in the morning. Because Eli sure as hell would never forget one word of it.

* * * *

Randy stopped out at Eli’s ranch on his way in to work that morning. Sawyer had called last night and said he’d check on the horses and secure the property, but Randy wanted to walk through the stable. He didn’t know what he expected to find. A small patch of dried blood on the floor near the front gave credence to Creed’s and Eli’s story. The floor was smooth, hard-packed dirt; besides the little puddle of blood and the coiled discarded whip, there was nothing else to tell the tale of what happened yesterday.