Rocky Mountain Freedom (2 page)

Travis’s mind raced. What exactly did Cassidy know? What did he
want
Cassidy to know?

What do I want?

A sharp pain stabbed his ribs, and Cassidy had to switch positions.

He didn’t want to move. If he moved he might distract Travis, and the bastard finally looked as if he was about to admit something. At this point Cassidy didn’t much care what Travis confessed to as long as he made some forward motion.

He held out a hand, hating how his fingers shook. “Help me. I need to stand for a minute.”

Travis curled his fingers around Cassidy’s and eased him upright, his arm slipping around Cassidy’s waist for balance until he hit vertical.

The room spun again.

“Whoa, hang on.” Travis caught him tighter as Cassidy slumped forward, all control gone.

“God, so weak.”

“Yeah, you’re a right wimp, you are.” The words came out tight, Travis’s voice rigid. Cassidy blinked to clear his vision. Travis’s face was only inches away from his, both of them breathing hard.

Dammit, it was happening again. Cassidy straightened in the hopes a rib would pop out of line or something and send enough pain to stop blood from heading to his groin.

Too late and too little. His cock hardened, his body itching for more contact. Travis’s scent wove around Cassidy and caught him tight. He knew damn well what he wanted.

Too bad what he wanted was the last fucking thing on earth that either of them was going to get.

Thinking about it, though, made him slower than usual. Or maybe it was the ringing in his ears from the fight. For whatever reason Cassidy missed the moment when Travis touched his chest softly, fingertips hovering over bruised muscle.

Not the touch of a sympathetic friend. Softer. More intimate.

Cassidy should have jerked away, should have given every indication what Travis was doing was out of bounds and out of line. Couldn’t do it, though.

The lie stuck in his throat as the urge to consume Travis overwhelmed everything. “Oh
hell
.”

“I know,” Travis whispered. “I’m so goddamn lost here, Cassidy, I have no idea what I’m doing.”

Cassidy shook his head, regretting it immediately as his vision blurred. “You’re not doing anything. We’re not—”

Travis leaned in and pressed their lips together. Gentle, barely there, probably out of deference for the cuts and bruises. Still a kiss. No mistaking it for some macho tease or a friendly gesture of goodwill. Especially not when Travis eased an arm around Cassidy’s back to let their torsos make contact as well, warmth and support oh-so-welcome even as Cassidy’s brain screamed a million warnings into the silence of the cabin.

It was no use. His body and mind were at war, and until one found dominance, he had to accept this. Once. Only once.

His tongue found Travis’s, and a fiery jolt struck. He moaned and caught Travis by the back of the head, thrusting his fingers into the thick dark hair and tightening into fists to keep the man exactly where he wanted him.

Pains forgotten, secrets forgotten. Right now the world narrowed to desire, lust and aching need.

He tugged at Travis in an attempt to end the kiss. Travis groaned, fighting the pressure in his hair, leaning against Cassidy and using his body to manoeuvre him to the mattress.

Agony and ecstasy mixed into one. Travis stretched over him, a solid, heavy weight Cassidy had longed for months to feel. The pain of the beating he’d taken countered the pleasure enough to sharpen his resolve, and Cassidy tightened his grip and jerked Travis’s lips away.

Only inches above him, Travis gasped for air. His eyes had gone dark like midnight, pupils wide and blending into his dark grey irises.

“We can’t…” Cassidy hated the pleading in his voice. “This can’t happen, T.”

“You said you wanted to know my secrets,” Travis growled. “Make up your bloody mind.”

“It’s not a joke,” Cassidy complained.

Travis rocked his hips. There was no way to avoid the truth—they both had hard-ons like iron hammers. Another rub together followed, with friction creating the most amazing rush, and Cassidy cursed.

Enough.
He had to stop them now. He planted his hands on Travis’s chest in preparation to shove him away.

Somewhere outside the room a door squeaked, and a female voice rang out. “Travis? You in here?”

Travis damn near levitated off the bed. “Back here, Tamara.”

He dragged a hand through his hair as Cassidy rolled onto his side, biting back a moan of pain at moving so quickly. It was the only position where the state of his cock might stay hidden, though.

By the time a pretty dark-haired woman with cat-rimmed glasses appeared in the doorway, Travis was sprawled in the single chair by the bed. All signs of them having done anything out of the norm were gone, Cassidy hoped.

Hoped like hell.

Tamara let out a huge sigh. “So. The idiots have been at play, have they? There was no official fight club last night, so you had to be out trolling for trouble.”

“Shut up, and look him over.” Travis moved aside as she shoved a hand against his shoulder, exchanging positions so she could access the bed.

Cassidy gave her his best smile. “There’s something you don’t see often. House calls in this day and age?”

She smirked as she opened a small bag she’d brought with her. “I don’t change bedpans, though. How do you feel? You look like shit.”

“Still charming as ever,” Travis goaded.

“Not that you’d get to know it, cuz, but I have a lovely bedside manner. Especially for gorgeous blonds who are helpless, not to mention half-naked.” She shone a light into Cassidy’s eyes as she spoke. “Ignoring Travis. Hey, Cassidy, you remember me?”

“Vividly.” He blinked. “You still seeing that doctor who steps on your feet on the dance floor?”

“He’s got good hands. Makes up for the feet.” Tamara glanced over her shoulder. “Stop hovering, Travis, and get out. I’ll call you if I need you. Asshole.”

“Brat.” Travis hesitated in the doorway, his gaze meeting Cassidy’s briefly before flicking away. “Should I make something?”

“Yeah, coffee for you and me. I’ll let you know about Cassidy in a minute. I have a shift at the hospital right after this. Now get.”

Travis got.

Cassidy grinned. “You’re good at bossing him around.”

“Sugar, when you’ve got like a million male cousins all with control issues? You learn to stand up for yourself, or you get shoved in a corner and petted far too much.” She wrinkled her nose as she stared at her watch, maintaining a firm grasp on his wrist as she took his pulse. “Still beating. That’s a good start.”

The entire time she looked him over, Cassidy ignored the noises from the front of the cabin. Focused on whatever the hell he could do to stop the coming train wreck.

Tamara finally left with a warning he probably had a concussion, but otherwise she figured he’d survive. He was too tired to argue. Too tired to do anything but close his eyes and hope that when he opened them there would be a solution to his troubles.

Twice he remembered Travis shaking him, getting him to talk and offering a cold drink. Twice he refused to look his friend in the eye, taking the opportunity to turn his back as soon as possible to let exhaustion send him under again.

When he finally woke, driven by a desperate need to take a piss, Travis was stirring from where he’d stretched out on the couch.

Cassidy ignored him for another moment. Did his business, then got distracted by the bashed-up face that taunted him from the bathroom mirror.

Green eyes circled with the blooming shades of blue and black only strengthened his resolve, though.

Imagine that. I have something to thank the bastard for after all.

They met in the kitchen area. Cassidy deliberately put the entire table and a couple chairs between them.

Travis’s quick gaze took in the defensive stance, and he laughed. “You think I’m going to crawl over you or something?”

Cassidy lifted his chin. “You telling me you don’t remember kissing me, asshole?”

“Oh, I remember it plenty. And I remember you kissed me back. So why are you standing over there looking as if I’m a freak when we both know this has been hanging over us for far too long?”

“Nothing’s ever going to happen again.” The words shot out, sharp. “Shit, Travis, when I was poking you to tell me your secrets I was trying to get you to admit you get a kick from fighting in dark alleys.”

“When a person’s got all kinds of secrets, you don’t get to pick which ones they share.” Travis’s body language softened. “Cass, come on. I’m going crazy over here. I don’t want to fuck things up between us.”

Cassidy shook his head. “There is no
us
other than friends. And if you’re not going to admit you have an issue with violence, there’s not much to the friendship either.”

Travis frowned. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“You’ve got a great family, T. A solid place in the community. I’m not about to let you screw things up for yourself just because we’ve been hanging out together too long without tossing a woman into the mix. It’ll be better if I go.”

He didn’t expect the laughter. When Travis stopped shaking his head, he took a step to the right. Cassidy retreated, and this elaborate dance started with Cassidy desperate to maintain the space between them.

Travis growled in frustration. “Don’t be an idiot. I know Tamara said you might have a concussion, but how hard did you hit your head? You’re leaving?”

“I like women,” Cassidy blurted out.

Another snort of laughter escaped Travis. “I noticed. So do I. And they like us.”

Cassidy clutched that straw as if it was an unbreakable lifeline. “You don’t go around kissing your best friend when what you need is to find a good woman to meet your needs.”

“My
needs
?” Travis stared at the ceiling for a moment before shaking his head. “Too twisted and too fucked up and too…wrong to deal with.”

“Exactly.” Cassidy clutched the back of the chair in front of him, suddenly a lot less in control than he’d been a minute ago. He was positive about one issue. “Only if your needs are gonna get you killed by some stranger, you need to reconsider. If you have some twisted reason you like to get punched, then maybe you should consider asking a friend.”

Travis’s eyes widened. “Did you just offer to beat on me?”

Cassidy shrugged. “I’m your friend. At least I would stop when you’ve had enough. I don’t want to see you dead, which is why I tracked your ass down this morning.”

“Oh, and that was such a good idea, wasn’t it? Getting set on by an entire gang. Who got the beating on that one?”

“That’s not the point. We wouldn’t have been there if you had admitted you wanted my help.”

Travis nodded slowly. “And if I admitted I wanted…you?”

Shit,
no
. Cassidy pinched the bridge of his nose. “T, I’m the last thing you really want. Stop making this harder than it has to be.”

His friend snickered.

Jeez.
“Freak. What are you, twelve?”

“You said it, not me,” Travis complained. He sighed. “Look, I need to get to the ranch before Blake and Matt start piling up all the shit jobs as punishment for missing work. I’ll be back tonight, and we can talk.”

“Not changing my mind,” Cassidy warned. “Not about anything.”

“We’ll talk. Have to pick up your truck as well.” Travis pointed at the small counter in the kitchen. “I charged your phone—turn it on so I can call to make sure you’re okay while I’m gone. Tamara’s orders.”

Travis left, and the world seemed a lot colder. Not even a steaming-hot shower was enough to warm Cassidy thoroughly.

After a couple hours of worrying at his dilemma, there was no other solution he could come up with. He sat at the table, flipping through the pages of a book but not really seeing the words. A small bundle of black-and-white fur meowed piteously by his feet until he relented and picked up the kitten, depositing it into his lap.

Cassidy refused to be the one who tore Travis’s world apart—and Travis had no idea exactly how hellish the world could get. Cassidy also refused to stand by and watch while a good friend found a way to commit suicide by giving in to whatever grim addiction had him in its power.

If he couldn’t help, and could only harm, he’d sit through this talk Travis wanted, then he’d grab his truck and leave. There were other places he could make a living, all of them far enough away he wouldn’t have to see his friend dead, or wishing he were dead.

Even if leaving Rocky Mountain House was going to hurt like crazy—

Cut and run was Cassidy’s only choice.

Chapter One

Nine months later

April, Rocky Mountain House

Gravel crunched under her wheels as she turned down the long back-road approach to his trailer. Ashley Sims slowed her van to keep dust from floating through the windows she’d opened to enjoy the warm spring air.