Authors: SE Jakes
He rubbed his arms, grateful that Styx had shoved some Advil at him first thing that morning. A sign that the man remembered everything.
Paulo had done the same for him when he’d stayed at his apartment two nights before.
Paulo…dammit.
If Paulo had read his records, he really did know everything, and Law could no longer pretend that it didn’t happen.
Fuck, if Paulo looked at him with pity…
But he hadn’t, ever. And Law had radar for that, was pretty bullshit-proof.
He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and then rubbed them together, the cold not helping the deep ache.
He really had nearly every major bone in his body broken by the time he was ten—some more than once, and hell, he could predict rain and snow with an accuracy no meteorologist seemed to have.
It was gonna storm tonight.
Who was he kidding? It had already started, a long time ago when his father started drinking and his mother stopped giving a shit. Or maybe she never really had, but time had a way of fuzzing things over.
He remembered rarely having new clothes or books or anything—he and his brother had been taken from his parents twice only to find themselves in far worse situations where they didn’t know the groundwork, the triggers.
It was in childhood when he’d learned the importance of stealth and recon, knew that when the bottles came out and the voices got louder, it was time to become invisible.
He’d been an easy target for a long time.
The physical abuse had been well documented for both Law and his brother, teachers noticing it from first grade on. The boys had been pulled from the house twice before the family moved from Connecticut to New York, and then they were in a much larger school system. They’d also learned to lie, because it was easier on them if no one suspected the truth.
But hospital records always noted the abuse—the social workers were always called down, spoke to Law in a sympathetic you-can-tell-me-everything tone and Law never did.
Over the years, that had become so ingrained in him that the thought of talking about any of it made him freeze up. He’d been pissed as hell that Greg had even mentioned it to Styx—and Damon, too—but then he’d been grateful he didn’t have to do so himself.
Paulo wouldn’t know everything, though. Because the most horrific part wasn’t in the files. It was still an open crime and Paulo hadn’t looked hard enough—or hadn’t thought to look into the police files.
Law’s brother had been missing for years. Although Law’s father and mother had been questioned in his disappearance, since Law had also run away, they’d put the case down as unsolved.
Unsolved. Law’s stomach clenched when he thought about it, because he could easily walk into the police station and solve it, but what good would it do any of them?
His parents were both dead—murdered, actually, and his brother had been murdered as well, the day Law left home for good.
He’d been fifteen and had just witnessed his father kill his older brother. Jason had only been ten months older, smaller than Law—and although he hadn’t liked the fact that Law was gay he was still fiercely protective, always stepping in the way and trying to take the brunt of the beatings.
It usually resulted in both Jason and Law with bones broken. But that night, it had been so much more—a broken neck from a hard push down a small flight of stairs leading to the basement.
When his father left to hide the body and his mother had ordered him to shut his mouth and get into his room, Law did. He’d already been packed so he grabbed his bag and went out the window and headed to the club where he’d been working, washing glasses and cleaning up after school for the past three months.
Greg had taken one look at him and pointed to the cot in the back room. “Not very comfortable, but it’ll be okay for a couple of nights.”
“Gonna be longer than that. Can’t go back.”
“Why?”
All it took was that simple word and he told Greg everything. Greg’s eyes got wet but he didn’t cry and instead, he let Law do so.
To this day, Greg was the only person Law had ever told the full story to. Greg hadn’t said a word about going to the police, had simply asked, “Will he come looking for you?”
“Not here. Can’t go back to school either, or he’ll have to answer for what happened to my brother. And they’ll ask me.” He’d loved his brother, although they’d never been close. Most of the time, they’d been pitted against one another for survival.
But to watch his father make good on his threat…
“Don’t go there, Law. Nothing you could’ve done,” Greg told him and from there, Law stayed and worked with Greg. At first, it was in the back room and then he’d go to Greg’s for dinner and schooling, and then he’d moved into the second floor of Greg’s brownstone, with Greg living on the third floor.
It had never been weird or wrong—Greg hadn’t ever made an inappropriate move.
Greg had saved his life, later told him he did so because someone had once saved his in the same manner.
And then Damon and Styx moved in and Greg made them all get their GEDs and taught them club management. Taught them to be responsible gay men.
God, Law still had so much to learn. He looked up at the sky and let the snow skim his face. When he was in Delta, he would sometimes sit for hours, stock still, waiting for a target. Now, because of Styx, he was one again.
Styx would be the one to come get him soon. Law could feel him in his bones, the way he could sense the storm, and he wondered what went on between the two men inside the house.
He wanted to punch Styx, for no other reason than he and Paulo were bonding. Styx had Paulo sticking up for him now—what the hell was that?
But he knew…Styx was a force as powerful as anything he’d ever known. A raging ocean, a fierce thunderstorm…and still, there was a gentleness inside the man that called to Law like a siren song.
He could still remember the first time he’d met Styx. It was like two lost souls recognizing one another—the feeling more intense even than meeting Damon.
It still hadn’t stopped him from being wary.
Although he trusted Greg’s instincts, after the addition of this boy—man, he had to admit, because Styx had never been a boy—Law kept his distance.
He’d named himself Styx because he’d been going through Greg’s collection of albums and Styx’s Paradise Theater album caught his eye.
“You realize you’re naming yourself after a river in hell,” Greg had said, and Styx nodded with that gleam in his eye, and for the first time in the week he’d been in Greg’s house, he’d smiled.
From where he’d been in the hallway watching, Law had smiled too.
Paulo stared at Styx, surprised as shit that the man wasn’t pissed at him, and his heart definitely opened more for the man he’d been sure he would continue to hate for what he’d done to Law. Maybe they had more in common than Paulo could’ve imagined. “You broke into Law’s records?”
“Not exactly. Not at first. I asked Greg about it and he finally told me a little bit about how Law came to him. From there, I did some research. When I confronted him, Law didn’t speak to me for a week, but we were a lot younger then.”
“Why did you do it?”
Styx shrugged. “Same reason you did. I was in love with him and I knew whatever happened was holding him back. I’ve known him since we were sixteen. He knew I couldn’t remember. When I first asked him why he was there, he just said something about having a rough time at home.” Styx gave a short bark of a laugh. “Can you imagine? A rough time at home. And then, when he started speaking to me again, he told me everything. He’s had years to pretend none of it happened.”
But it had, in such sick and sadistic ways that Paulo had thrown up halfway through reading the file and again when he’d finished. “How can you be so calm about it?”
“Calm?” Styx’s eyes were an icy glitter in the now darkening room. “You don’t even know half the story—it’s not in the CPS files. But I know
everything
. I found his father ten years ago and I killed the bastard. His mother was already dead or I would’ve strangled her with my bare hands, woman or not. People like that don’t deserve children.” Styx took a step toward the couch. “Are you going to tell me I was wrong to do it? That I should’ve let the police handle it? Want to turn me in?”
“No.” Paulo felt his hands shake. “I looked them up because I was ready to…” He paused. “I was ready to kill them…but they were already dead.”
Styx nodded, a sudden, unbreakable bond occurring between the two men.
“Does he know what you did?” Paulo asked.
Styx shrugged. “He’s never asked and I’ve never said.”
“What else is there? What don’t I know?” He’d suspected that Law’s run to Greg’s house hadn’t been smooth.
“It would’ve been in the police records—you didn’t push hard enough, but I suspect you couldn’t bring yourself to read any more,” Styx said with a quiet understanding. “But that’s his story to tell now. We’ve done enough damage with this.”
Paulo agreed. “I need to talk to him.”
He didn’t want Law to run, but Paulo understood that better than anyone. He’d been it for years. Now, sometimes he thought it was the only way he knew how to live… And what did that mean that he’d hung around for three months longer than he’d intended because the thought of leaving Law made him physically ill?
“There’s something about Law,” Paulo said. “It makes me want to protect him.”
“And fuck him at the same time,” Styx finished.
“I was going to say, get fucked by him, but yeah, that’s the general idea. Dammit, I’m all fucked up. Things were fine until I met him and now I’m all turned around.”
“Law tends to do that to people. He did it to me the first time I saw him.”
“And then what?”
“And then he pushed me away as hard as he could for months.”
“What’d you do?”
“Pushed back, just like you. So let me go get him. He’s already more pissed at me than you, anyway.” Styx didn’t move, though. “I know you love him. I saw you—in the hospital with him.”
Paulo stared at him. “You were there?”
“He didn’t know because I didn’t go to him.”
“Because I did?”
“Because it looked like you cared…and he looked at you like…fuck, he used to look at me like that.”
“He still does.”
As much as Styx wanted to believe Paulo, he couldn’t let himself. “Too much time has passed…”
“No, it hasn’t.”
Styx shook his head. This wasn’t going to work. “I’m going to make sure you and Law are safe—and then I’ll take off.”
“He won’t let you.”
“He won’t have a choice.”
“Sounds like you’ve never given him one.”
“You know nothing about it, cop.”
Paulo smiled as if he knew he’d twisted the knife deep. Paulo wasn’t afraid of him on any level, wasn’t intimidated, looked him straight in the eye. He could handle anything, including and especially Law, which made him more special than anything.
“We’re just as screwed as you are—maybe even more so,” Paulo said finally.
It was the truth.
“I’ll bring him out of hiding,” Styx said. “I’m the best bait there is.”
It would be putting his life on the line but it was possibly the only way to keep Law and Paulo safe. Or maybe not…but he didn’t know what else to do, short of going rogue, hunting down and killing the man himself, which was the other option he’d already considered. But once Tomcat got involved, the CIA was watching him too closely.
“I should’ve had him killed when he was in prison,” Styx muttered.
“But you didn’t. And you and I both know that he’ll go after me and Law before he touches you. He wants you back, and it sounds like he’ll go to any length to make that happen. So use me as bait instead.”
“No.”
“Why not? You’ve got nothing invested in me.”
“Law does.” With that, he left Paulo and went out in the snow, the wind buffeting around him, the night beginning to settle in.
Law was sitting on the stone wall that spanned the entire back of the property, facing the woods across the street. Was staring daggers at Styx as he walked toward him.
When Styx got close, he leaned against the wall next to Law. “You’re taking your anger for me out on Paulo.”
“I’ve got plenty to go around,” Law told him through gritted teeth.
“Law, come on.” Styx put a hand on his shoulder, which promptly got shoved off. Law jumped down from the wall, and the physical fight from last night was nowhere near done. It had simply been put on hold, and now Styx braced himself for Law’s wrath.
“You need to back the hell off, go back inside and stay away from me,” Law told him, with fists clenched at his side.
“Or else?”
“I’m going to kick your ass, Styx.”
“You and what army?” The words were a flashback to Greg’s, when Styx, who’d been trying to get Law to talk to him, had pushed too far. They’d fought it out, a blend of testosterone and fear making it that much more potent.
Styx wasn’t sure which of them won the battle that day, but he was pretty confident in the fact that he’d won the war, because he’d gotten Law into bed. Somewhere between the punches there were kisses that tasted like mint and strokes, and then he’d had Law’s clothes off, was pressing him to the bed…
“I know what you’re thinking about.” Law’s voice brought him back to the present. “You can forget that happening.”
“I don’t want to fight with you.”
“But I do. I need to finish what we started last night—but only the fight part.” Law came at him as the snow fell harder, fat flakes clinging to their clothes and the ground, and Styx tried to subdue him, get him to the point where the fight would leave him.
Because Law wasn’t fighting him—he was fighting his past—and the helplessness and the fear that it had churned up inside of him. The regret that he’d stayed too long at his parents’ house instead of escaping with his brother was a pain that never went away for him. And so Styx took the place of all those ghosts, let Law wear himself out until the man sagged against him, face buried in Styx’s chest as silent tears fell.
They stood there, Styx holding Law up for he didn’t know how long until Law all too characteristically pushed him away.