SE Jakes Bound By Honor (11 page)

plans to shut the club down anyway. If this continued, it would happen sooner rather than later—there was no way Damon

would let this continue to occur on his watch.

“We know, LC. We’ve got a plan in place. That’s what we’ve been working on.” Renn showed him the new schedule

they would put in place for checking the private rooms, bathrooms and al eys on a rotating schedule.

“Good. I’l cal in some extra help for the next few weeks. But I hope to hel it doesn’t take that long to catch the bastard.”

And then he sent Renn and the other men home and locked up behind them.

The fact that this was happening around the club and living area of two former Army men was real y pissing him off.

Now, he would do something about it.

At the same time, the past was coming back to haunt them…and the third man, who should goddamned be here, was

no doubt too far away to help.

LC went behind the bar to the smal safe, pul ed out the worn SIG he hadn’t used since his military days and tucked it

into the back of his jeans. Then he grabbed a ful bottle of whiskey and a shot glass.

Tomorrow night, he’d use himself as bait. Tonight, he was al about remembering.

Knowing he’d be unable to sleep, he sat and made a list of men he could cal in to patrol the al eys.

And then he crumpled the paper and slumped i n the booth a nd looked around a t what h e a nd Damon ha d created

together.

Crave had been built at a time when both he and Damon needed something productive to do. They’d joined the

military to escape years earlier, and once out, they’d come up with the concept for Crave as both a tribute to Greg and to

their pasts. And even though BDSM wasn’t LC’s thing, it had most certainly become Damon’s. His friend had been a

great draw.

Styx had already been long gone by that point. Stil was.

An hour before the attack, LC had been having a drink with a guy he’d thought about fucking but at the last minute

backed away because he looked a little too much like that man from his past he’d been trying for years to forget.

So many things to forget…

It reminded LC that sometimes, there was danger inherent in forgetting.

A banging on the heavy steel door jolted them both. Tanner was stil cuffed and Damon moved quickly, wouldn’t leave

Tanner bound for long when he wasn’t there because he knew the boy would lose it.

He was stil close to doing so now.

“Be right back,” he told Tanner, who nodded.

It could only be LC, Damon knew, and that’s what worried him most—his friend’s timing might suck but there would be

good reason for it. And when he pul ed back the door and LC said, “We need to talk.

There have been attacks outside the club,” and then turned back away, Damon knew there wasn’t time to argue.

He shut the door partway and went back to the bedroom, where Tanner was stil hooked to the headboard, looking

very wel fucked. The boy’s cheeks glowed, his mouth was swol en, and Damon ached not to be done with this yet even

as he felt half-frozen from the look in LC’s eyes.

LC was remembering that night and for the first time in a long time, Damon felt the chil go through him, had to hang

onto the doorjamb until the feeling of panic stopped.

You’re a goddamned fraud. Not strong at all.

His past shrouded him like a thick fog, the memories dense and painful, and he wondered why the hel it was hitting

him like a ton of bricks, erasing al the good that had happened tonight.

An hour ago—hel , ten minutes ago—he’d felt like he was getting a second chance. He should’ve known better. The

past was always with him…even when he was with Jesse.

Especial y when he was with Jesse.

Getting close to someone…letting him in…that was a mistake. Because he could never tel anyone about that night—

would never—and that would effectively destroy any chance of a relationship.

In fact, it had already done so and promised to do it a second time. He would stop it before it got to that—cut his

losses.

“LC needs to talk to me,” he said without further preface, ignored the unasked questions on Tanner’s face as he undid

the boy’s cuffs.

Tanner shifted. “Right now?”

“Yeah.” He paused. “I’l be a while.”

“What am I supposed to do?” he asked.

“Whatever you want,” was Damon’s answer, the absolutely wrong fucking one too, but there was no taking it back.

“What the hel ?”

“It’s not like I cuddle.” He paused, forced the words out of him. “It’s what Jesse wanted—for one night only. You

wanted that too. It’s better neither of us get confused.”

“You’re giving m e fucking whiplash” Tanner ground out the words, his teeth bared a s i f fo r a fight, b ut Damon didn’t

answer him. “If you want me to leave, tel me.”

“You’re a free man, Tanner—not my sub. The military would get in the way of us, no matter what.”

He threw on clothing as Tanner watched and walked out of the loft, down the stairs, leaving the boy confused and a

little too vulnerable.

He cal ed himself a bastard several times over for the man he’d left behind and the one in front of him who was

obviously in trouble. Probably had been for a while and Damon had been too wrapped up in himself to notice.

LC was drinking whiskey, something he usual y stayed far away from—and from al alcohol for the most part. And now,

he was sitting alone in a booth, staring into space with a half-empty bottle in front of him.

He would have a hel of a hangover in the morning.

Damon slid in across from LC. “Tel me everything.”

LC did. Told him what had been happening over the past two weeks, about the attacks. About going to the hospital

with the third victim. “Tonight was number three. Same pattern. The police are involved since Kevin wanted to do a rape

kit.”

Damon felt the horror of the truth wash over him. LC fil ed and pushed a shot glass in his direction and Damon

downed it, and then another.

It didn’t help. “Why didn’t you tel me?”

“You know why.” LC didn’t bother to say anything else—what was there? “This is the third one. I thought maybe they

were isolated incidents.”

“Obviously not.” Damon’s voice was hoarse with pain-fil ed memories he refused to let back in ful y.

Judging by the look in LC’s eyes, he had.

“The police don’t even have a description. He hits them from the back,” LC explained.

“One guy?” Damon asked, the shot glass squeezed in his palm.

LC eyed him steadily as the past flashed before both their eyes. “Yes. One.”

“You don’t think…” Damon trailed off and LC abandoned the shot glass for ful -on slugging from the damned bottle.

“I think, Damon. I can’t stop fucking thinking,” he admitted when he final y came up for air and then took another swig.

“I get that it’s your pain…”

“No, it’s not just mine.” Damon ran a hand through his hair and let LC drink the pain away for the moment.

“It can’t b e the same guy, Damon—I think we both know that. Sixteen years would b e a he l o f a long time t o hold a

grudge.”

Damon had. But he let L C keep talking, because the ma n ha d been dealing with this silently fo r weeks a nd i t was

Damon’s fault he’d done so.

“Supposed to be a safe club. That was the point of this place—safety first. No one gets taken against their wil .”

Damon closed his eyes and stil heard the clink of the chains…the screams…the begging. “It is, LC.

We can’t control everything.”

“Says the great Dom—Damon Control-is-my-life Price.”

“What did the police say?” he asked, ignoring LC’s comment.

“The detective was hitting on me,” LC slurred.

That made Damon grin a little. “Yeah, and?”

“And what? Nothing ever happens. You know that.”

“It could.”

LC just gave a short laugh and put the bottle down. “I’m going to hate myself in the morning.”

Damon didn’t bother to point out that LC seemed to hate himself every morning, even when he woke up sober. And

he hated that he was powerless to do anything about that.

The only one who might be able to put LC back together was Styx, and Damon sure as hel wouldn’t cal that bastard

and ask him for a damned thing.

It was hours before Damon got L C t o bed and another one with him lying next t o his friend, listening t o hi m breathe,

thinking about the way things were. The way they used to be.

On a night like this one, years earlier, with an icy rain pelting the ground, Damon lay sleeping with LC awake next to

him.

Back then, Damon had slept for three days straight, as if his mind refused to let him wake until his body had begun to

heal.

He wasn’t sure his mind ever did. He didn’t dream of the attack that often anymore and wondered if that would

change now. But being here, close to dawn, he didn’t feel like anything had changed at al .

“What’s happening is different, LC,” he said into the darkness, and was surprised when LC mumbled,

“You stil get that same look, D. Brings you right back.”

“I’m okay.”

“Don’t let it fuck with Tanner…with you.”

Damon didn’t answer him, because hel , it already had. He waited until LC began his deep, even breathing again and

headed back to his loft. He wasn’t surprised to find the door halfway open and the alarm at the bottom of the stairs turned

off.

He’d practical y pushed Tanner out the door. Couldn’t have been more effective if he’d physical y escorted the man

out the door himself.

Tanner had no car here. The fear settled in Damon’s throat then lodged itself in his heart until he felt his insides

shredding from worry.

He doubted a cab would come to get Tanner in the middle of the ice storm—and unless he stole Damon’s truck, the

only way home for Tanner was on foot. Damon didn’t doubt Tanner was stubborn enough to make it home like that.

He shoved a coat on and got into his Range Rover, heard the tires crunch on the ice that coated the driveway and

final y found Tanner much farther along than he’d expected.

He must’ve left right after Damon went downstairs. He wore the sweatshirt and jeans and boots he’d had on when he

got to Damon’s, no doubt stil damp from earlier and doing him no good in the storm.

He pul ed up alongside of Tanner, opened the window. “Tanner, get in the damned truck.”

Tanner had heard him coming—Damon could tel . But the boy was stubborn enough not to turn around, instead cal

ing,

“Fuck you,” above the roar of the wind.

His lips were already tinged blue, but he was moving at a light jog.

“After you get into the car,” Damon told him and Tanner gave him the finger and kept going. Final y, Damon pul ed the

truck across his path and got out.

Tanner’s cheeks flushed and he cocked his head in a way that made Damon expect a right hook, at the least. But

none came. “Why the hel are you doing this to me? I didn’t fucking ask for this. I didn’t want to lose Jesse any more than

you did.”

Damon didn’t know what else to say except, “Get into the fucking car, now!”

“I don’t owe you anything. I kept my part of the promise. I’m staying in the goddamned military and I’m not your fucking

sub,” Tanner shouted.

“Is that what you want?”

Tanner’s mouth opened and closed, because he hadn’t been expecting that. Damon hadn’t either.

“I don’t want to be your sub,” Tanner said slowly. “But I didn’t expect to want you the way I do, al right? I never wanted

that.”

When he’d thought that Tanner wasn’t ready for him, he’d been damned wrong. He was the one who wasn’t ready for

Tanner…and he might never be.

When will you stop punishing yourself?
LC would ask.

When hell freezes over
, Damon had told him. And it looked like that might’ve just happened.

Tanner walked past Damon then and got into the passenger’s seat of the truck. Damon fol owed, and they sat in

silence for a long moment until Damon said, “It was my fault.” Again. It would probably always be his fault.

“Just take me home.”

“No.”

Tanner muttered something through his shivering, punched the inside of the truck door lightly but didn’t protest further.

Damon wisely didn’t say anything else as he let the truck’s four-wheel drive grind them back to the club and the

private garage.

“LC was in trouble—he needed me. And he’s my family.”

“What’s wrong with him?”

“This has nothing to do with you…and everything. I should never have left that quickly. Should’ve told you to stay in my

bed and sleep and wait for me.”

“But you didn’t,” Tanner said quietly.

“There have been some attacks at the club,” Damon started. “LC’s pretty upset about them. I’ve known him since I

was fourteen. He was in pain.” Damon got out of the truck and Tanner hesitated before fol owing him. “Please, Tanner—I

want you to come upstairs. I know you could’ve made it home. I didn’t come after you only because of the storm.”

No, it had been LC—the pain in his friend’s voice reminding him not to let his past fuck with his future for the

umpteenth time.

Tanner swal owed hard and yes, even this smal bit of surrender was tough on him. It was tough on Damon as wel ,

having to admit to al his wrongs, and dammit, he wasn’t used to fucking up this much in the course of a week.

He put his hand on the smal of Tanner’s back and Tanner al owed himself to be led through the garage and to the

stairs.

When they got t o the top and stood i n front o f the loft’s door, Damon yanked Tanner’s we t sweatshirt o ff first before