New Lease of Life (23 page)

Forgetting all his concerns about overprotectiveness, independence, and club-swinging, Colby was already out of his seat and striding across the bar. He didn’t run because he doubted Pip would appreciate the attention such an action would draw to his predicament.

“Oh, it’s the cripple.” Jerkface’s features twisted into a sneer as he loomed over Pip. “Haven’t seen you in here for a while. Not since you had your
little
problem.”

Colby’s stomach lurched sickeningly, and without having to be told, he had a feeling that he knew Jerkface’s identity and the reason for the sudden strike to Pip’s blooming confidence.

Reaching the bar, Colby stepped up behind Pip. “Hey,” he said in warning before he placed his hands carefully on Pip’s shoulders. No doubt the shaft of that cane would hurt like a bitch if Pip chose to use it, and Colby didn’t want to shock his boyfriend into thinking he was under attack.

He needn’t have worried. At his first touch, Pip leaned back against his chest.

“What happened to my drink?” Colby asked, maneuvering them until he stood between Jerkface and Pip. As he caught the attention of the barman, someone tapped him on the back. He twisted his head slowly, allowing time to school his features into a nonthreatening mask, and glanced over his shoulder.

“Let
me
buy you a drink, handsome.”

Even from this awkward angle, Colby could see Jerkface’s gaze travel down the length of his body and settle on his arse.

“You and me, we could make fireworks.”

Sucking in a breath and holding it before he said something he’d regret, Colby counted to five, focused on being polite, and then let it go. “Excuse me, but I’m here with my boyfriend.” The words had a touch more bite than he’d intended, but he was finding it hard not to reach over and rip the guy’s throat out. He was certain this was the wanker who had made Pip think he wasn’t good enough.

Jerkface snorted, an ugly, derisive sound. “Believe me, big boy, he won’t be able to satisfy you. Those posh clothes might look good, but it’s all packaging. Strip them off and underneath he’s nothing.”

“Pip.” Colby leaned in close, his palm flat on the small of Pip’s back. He could feel the fine tremors traveling over Pip’s skin through the shiny material of his waistcoat. “Do you want another drink, or should we go somewhere else?”

“There’s a bar down the road.” Pip’s voice sounded shaky. “It’s not a gay bar, though.”

“’S fine. I’ll kiss you as much as you like when we get back to yours.”

Another unattractive snort accompanied the heavy-handed slap that landed on his shoulder. Colby stood his ground.

“Won’t do you any good, mate. He can’t get it up.” Jerkface’s voice had risen enough to attract the attention of the group on the other side of him. “I’ve got a six-pack and an eight-inch dick, and he still couldn’t get with the program.”

“Can’t count, and he obviously doesn’t own a tape measure,” Pip muttered defiantly, although his face was pale with a crimson slash across each cheek.

For a brief moment, Colby saw a flash of mischief in the tentative glance Pip threw his way. If he could get Pip away from here quickly then he could easily repair the damage this encounter had done. He grinned as Pip held his thumb and index finger a couple of inches apart, at most.

“Oi, I’m talking to you.” Jerkface’s voice rose as he gripped Colby’s shoulder and tried to turn him around. “You and me can get it on. Leave the limp-dicked cripple to find his own way home.”

Fire burned in Colby’s veins, his blood pumping his anger around his body. “Get. Your. Hands. Off. Me.” Shaking off the unwanted attention, Colby pivoted slowly.

“Colby, let’s go.” Pip’s words barely registered as Colby struggled to hear anything beyond limp-dicked cripple.

“You’re a fine piece of arse.” Jerkface made a show of letting his gaze roam hungrily over Colby’s body, then he flapped a hand in Pip’s direction. “Don’t want to waste all that on damaged goods.”

“Maybe he is damaged goods—” Colby leaned in closer, his apparent agreement lulling Jerkface into a false sense of safety. The idiot even grinned as Colby placed his palm flat against the expensive polo shirt the arsehole was wearing. He could feel Jerkface’s heart beating beneath his touch. He counted one, two beats and then pushed. Hard. Jerkface stumbled back, the group of drinkers behind him scattering even before he’d taken his first flailing step. Somehow, though, he kept his balance. “—to a shallow jerkoff like you. But I can help him, if he’ll let me after the damage bastards like you have caused.”

Colby took a step closer to Jerkface, grim satisfaction surging through him when the wanker slammed back into the edge of the bar without even being touched. Glass shattered, and liquid pooled beneath the sleeve of Jerkface’s designer jacket before dripping off the bar.

The barman hovered on the periphery of Colby’s vision, mobile phone poised to call reinforcements if necessary. Or recording it all to put up on YouTube.

“And if the limp is permanent or he is always a bit grumpy and angry with the world, I will still want him in my life. Where you see damaged goods, I see a flawed hero.”

Wanting to save face, or not knowing when to give up, Jerkface leered. “He still can’t satisfy you.”

At his side, and without any input from the rational part of his brain, Colby’s right hand clenched into a fist. With his left, he grabbed for a handful of Jerkface’s shirt, high around the placket so that the buttons bit into his palm, and a simple twist would tighten the material around Jerkface’s throat.

As Colby tugged Jerkface away from the bar, fluid flowed freely, and for a brief moment, he thought the sniveling arsewipe had pissed himself until he remembered the spilled beer and broken glass.

What was he doing? Fighting in a bar. Hell, he hadn’t hit anyone else in anger for years, not since a beer-fueled uni prank had gone tits up and resulted in a bar brawl free-for-all. Fighting wasn’t how he got things done, not even when defending the ones he loved. And he had been, hadn’t he, defending Pip. He cared more than he should so early on in a relationship, but Pip needed his support far more than Colby needed the satisfaction of planting his fist on Jerkface’s nose.

He let go of the material and eased open the fingers of his right hand, curling them out of the tense fist they’d formed and flexing them.

“You’re not worth it,” Colby said, giving Jerkface the slightest push as he did so and turned back to… an empty space.

“Pip?” Colby glanced over to the booth where they’d been sitting. Behind him Colby heard the barman issue a warning, but certain it wasn’t directed at him, Colby swept his gaze over the rest of the bar.

“Well, honey, ain’t you a tiger?”

Colby turned toward the voice at his left shoulder.

“Would never have believed it to look at you earlier, all sunshine smiles and soft eyes. Here.” The barman pushed a tall glass across the bar, rapid bubbles rising and breaking the surface. “Lime and soda. On me. That guy’s a jerk.”

Maybe Pip was in the loo. They were back near the entrance, and Jerkface had moved deeper into the club to lick his wounds. He’d be no threat to Pip from there. Colby side-eyed the drink.

“No alcohol. Cross my heart.” The barman made a quick, flamboyant gesture over his chest. “I’d never fuel a fight, even one that looks like it’s over.”

Colby nodded, murmured his thanks, and downed the drink in two thirsty swallows.

“Can’t wait to show my boyfriend this video.” The barman gestured with his phone. “He thinks this place is nothing but a flesh market. Ha! Your little speech will prove to him chivalry and romance isn’t dead, not even in a place like this.”

“You actually taped it?” Colby asked, momentarily distracted from his search for Pip. He placed his glass back on the bar and nodded as the barman held up the lime cordial bottle and wiggled it questioningly.

“Uh-huh. Company policy. If it looks like either the bouncers or police will be involved, we’re asked to tape it if doing so won’t risk the well-being of the staff or other patrons.” The last words were intoned in the style of a manual. “But you didn’t punch him, so I didn’t have to call anyone. You don’t mind if I show my BF?”

“As long as I don’t end up splattered across the Internet.” Colby downed his second drink and glanced in the direction of the toilets. “Talking of boyfriends, did you see where mine went?”

“Oh honey, don’t worry. He grabbed his jacket the moment the trouble started and was gone.”

“What?”

“I figured you told him to make himself scarce. Get him away before the wanker could do any more damage with his hurtful comments. No?” The barman paused for breath, cocked his head to one side, and regarded Colby thoughtfully. “I couldn’t help but overhear. If he is having problems in that department, I know a man who knows a man. I could get you something that would help, if he’s too embarrassed to go to the doctors.”

“What?”

“Little blue pills.”

“Oh. No, it’s fine.
We’re
fine.” Colby’s cheeks flamed. Who was he to be making statements like that? He could hardly explain that things hadn’t progressed that far yet. “Where the hell would he have gone?”

Colby fumbled with his phone and hit the speed dial for Pip. “Come on, Pip, pick up the phone. Where are you?” The phone rang for ages and then cut off.

Pip, it’s Colby. Where are you? Ring me back.
Colby read back his message, realized how stupid it sounded. Pip would know it was him. Too late though; in his haste he’d already pressed Send.

“Another drink?”

“No, thanks. I should try and find him. Which way to the nearest pub or cab office from here?”

“Left and on the corner is the nearest pub. The cab office is opposite the pub. Why don’t you give me your number in case he comes back?”

“I don’t think he would, but…. Sure, why not?” Colby reeled off his number.

The barman entered the digits with a flourish. “I shall put you in under Tony. As in Tony the Tiger. Grrr.”

“Thanks, and sorry for the mess.” Colby tossed him a score. “Will twenty quid cover it?”

“More than.” The barman picked up the note and folded it into a small square. “Hope you find him.”

Colby crossed to the booth, retrieved his jacket, and headed for the exit. He was already dialing Pip’s number again before he stepped out into the cool evening air.

THE SHADOWY
gloom of the living room matched his mood. Unfortunately if Pip followed that metaphor to its conclusion, then Colby was the light in his darkness, since the only illumination came from the screen of his phone, which currently displayed the last four of Colby’s texts as clear as day.

I’m worried.

Where did you go?

Why aren’t you answering your phone

Are you okay

No, he bloody wasn’t okay. He was about as far from okay as he could possibly get.

Bumping into that bastard had been bad enough to bring all his insecurities rushing back up to the surface, and then, while he was light-headed and floundering like a diver with the bends, to hear Colby’s betrayal. To see Colby respond to the arsehole, not with anger as he’d anticipated, but by agreeing with him. Touching him. They were probably getting it on right now.

Now he was being ridiculous. Colby had started ringing him almost as soon as his arse had hit the backseat of the cab. No time for even a quickie in the toilets. And Colby wasn’t like that…. Not that he really knew Colby at all.
Damaged goods.
Hearing Colby echo that bastard’s words had hurt much worse than anything he’d been through these last few months. With those words Colby had tugged at the stitching of the freshly mended heart he’d so lovingly put back together and ripped all his hard work apart.

Pip hadn’t been able to stay and listen to any more. He’d been fooling himself to think Colby had seen beyond the broken packaging to the person he was inside. The person he had been.

“Are you planning on answering any of those messages or are you just using the phone as a night light? You always were afraid of the dark.”

Light flooded the room. Pip blinked back the sudden flare on his retinas and then glared in the general direction of the doorway, where he could just make out a Davy-shaped splodge. He blinked rapidly, bringing his best friend back into focus.

“What are you glaring at? I don’t plan to smash my shins on your coffee table or risk third-degree burns on your coffee.”

“Drama queen.”

“I’m not the one sitting here wallowing in the darkness of my soul having abandoned a perfectly hunky boyfriend in a club somewhere.” Davy placed a mug on the coaster closest to Pip. Steam rose from the surface of the drink. “Don’t look at me like that. I can’t take your side if you won’t tell me what he did. A tearful request to meet you here and then you clam up like a, like a—” Davy stopped, gestured with his hands in a “what the fuck” motion. “—like a clam.”

“Eloquent. I’m sure your
père
would be pleased to know your expensive education paid off.”

“How’s this for eloquent? Fuck you. I was onto a sure thing. You could at least tell me what Colby did to you.” Davy flopped into the chair behind him with a languid grace and artfully draped a leg over the armrest. “No? Should we call the police?”

“No. God, why? He would never touch—”

“I meant to see if he’d been arrested. I assume there’s been some sort of trouble. If you were at The Angel, they have zero tolerance on fighting.”

Arrested? Pip hadn’t even thought of that. But Colby hadn’t been fighting, had he?

“Hospitals?” Davy was still blathering on. “Although Colby looked like he could take care of himself. And you, if it came to it. So why didn’t he bring you home himself? Don’t get me wrong, I’m thrilled you trust me enough to bail you out when you needed someone, and if he has hurt you in any way I will kill him, but…. Well, I know I only met him the once, but he seemed like a lover, not a fighter.”

“He wasn’t fighting. Flirting, not fighting.”

Davy frowned. “In front of you? Doesn’t seem like his style. Yours, maybe.”