Chapter 32
ELIJAH
“Teya, what have you got?” I shout, unable to keep the panic from my voice. I wince as I nearly rip the door handle off, flinging the car door open and jumping inside. I’m more on edge than ever—Alex’s apartment was empty, and even his doorman hadn’t seen him.
“He’s at Gravity, Elijah. I’m about ten minutes away. Maybe longer with traffic.”
I freeze, gripping the steering wheel so hard my knuckles go white.
“Gravity? Are you sure?”
“Yep. He’s definitely there.”
What the hell would he be doing at Gravity? He hasn’t even come out yet. Not to mention, he wouldn’t set foot in that club with me just weeks ago. And now he’s walking in without any hesitation? No. It doesn’t add up.
“Elijah?”
I pull myself together and start the engine. “Yes, doll. I’m still here. Listen, I’m on my way. I’ll meet you at the club.” I toss the phone aside and hit the gas.
Minutes later, I skid up to Gravity, slipping the SUV into an open spot near the valet drop-off.
I hop out at the same time I throw the gear into park.
A long line snakes from the entrance, but I don’t slow down.
The owner’s a friend, so I walk right past the crowd, ignoring their irritated grumbles.
At the door, I nod to Fernando, the owner’s son. I fold a hundred-dollar bill into our handshake and quickly brief him on Teya’s arrival, making sure he knows to let her in as soon as she arrives. Then I shoot a quick text off to her.
With a firm pat on the shoulder, Fernando opens the door.
The club is packed. I pause just inside, giving my eyes a second to adjust to the dim lighting as I scan the long bar snaking toward the dance floor.
This place holds so many memories. Gabriel and I used to come here all the time—basically regulars. The owner is a close friend, and we’d often join him and his husband for dinner.
No sign of Alex at the bar. My gaze shifts to the crowded dance floor. Damn. How am I supposed to find him in this?
My eyes throb from straining, and I blink hard, trying to fight off a headache building behind them. Great. Just what I fucking need.
I rake my fingers through my hair, frustration rising. And right as I’m about to lose my ever-loving mind, my phone buzzes.
Teya.
I snatch it up and answer quickly. “You here?” I snap, instantly regretting the sharpness in my voice.
If she notices, she doesn’t mention it.
“I’m here, Elijah. Your friend let me in. I’m at the smaller bar, just inside the entrance. Any luck?”
She sounds just as edgy as I feel. “Not yet, doll. But don’t worry, we’ll find him. I promise.”
“Okay. Okay. Where are you?”
“By the dance floor—but don’t move. I’m coming to you.”
I round the corner, having bulldozed my way through the swarming dance floor, when a thought hits me; I’ve never actually met Teya.
No matter. I spot her instantly.
Awkward stance, wide eyes, and phone pressed to her ear. She scans the room with the anxious curiosity of someone clearly new to this scene. Definitely her first time in a gay bar.
I slip in beside her and hold out a hand.
“Teya.”
She turns, craning her neck to look up at me. She’s way shorter than Alex, but the resemblance is unmistakable—she’s his spitting image.
“Oh my god, Elijah!” she gasps, ignoring my hand and throwing her arms around my waist in a tight hug.
I pluck a napkin from the bar and gently blot her tears. “It’s okay, doll. It’s okay.” I crouch down to meet her eyes and hand her the napkin. She presses it to her trembling lips.
“Let’s go find our guy, sí?”
She nods quickly, then reaches for my hand. “Thank you, Elijah. Gracias.”
My heart stirs at the sound of my native language on her American tongue. There’s something about the way she says it—shy and careful—that reminds me of her brother.
“De nada,” I murmur, pulling her into another hug. Then I step back. We don’t have time to waste.
“Teya, I want you to check over there,” I say, pointing toward the packed dance floor. “He could be anywhere in that crowd.” I motion in the opposite direction. “I’m heading to the VIP lounge.”
A hesitant frown tugs at her lips. She shakes her head. “He wouldn’t go to the VIP section. He’s too modest.”
She’s right. Alex has never been flashy. I don’t believe I’ll find him there either. But I need to rule it out.
A reservation is typically required to get into the private lounge.
But if you’re someone with influence—or you drop the right name—exceptions are always made.
If Alex got in tonight, all he would’ve had to do was mention my name.
That alone would’ve granted him access, no questions asked.
Sure, there’s a chance he used his own celebrity status to gain entry, but I doubt it.
In the short time I’ve known him, I’ve never seen him play that card.
Like his sister said—he’s too modest for that.
As I approach the door to the exclusive lounge, I spot the woman guarding it, wine glass in hand, crimson lips curved in amusement.
“Sandy.” I greet her with an air kiss to each cheek. She flashes a bright, polished smile and, without a word, swings the door open for me.
Inside, the VIP section is dimly lit and elegantly adorned with leather chairs, crystal lighting, and the low hum of money and power. I immediately begin scanning the room for Alex. A quick sweep of the space yields nothing, so I slow down, inspecting each face more carefully.
“Elijah!”
I turn toward the voice and see my longtime friend, Mauricio, rising from a table tucked in the far corner.
“Mauricio, my man.” I cross the room and pull him in for a half hug. “Long time, no see, amigo.” I recognize the other three men seated with him and shake their hands as well. Mauricio pulls out a chair, inviting me to join them, but I politely decline.
“Not today, my friend. I’m actually looking for my boyfr—um, friend,” I correct quickly, hoping he didn’t catch the slip. But I’m pretty sure he did. Still, he doesn’t pry.
For a second, I consider showing him a picture of Alex, but then think better of it. Everyone at this table would recognize that face. Hell, Alex’s latest Valente ad is plastered across a billboard right on Gravity’s rooftop—his wet, tanned, tattooed body in swimwear, impossible to miss.
I turn in a slow semicircle, sweeping the room one last time. “Looks like he’s not here, gentlemen.”
Mauricio clearly senses something is up, but he doesn’t push, just nods and eases back into his chair.
My phone buzzes as I head toward the door. I toss a peace sign over my shoulder.
“HELP ME! HELP ME! OH GOD… Alexxxx—”
Teya’s voice shreds through the phone before I even get it to my ear.
“Teya, talk to me! Where are you?”
I’m already moving, sprinting through the club, legs moving at the speed of lightning. I don’t know where I’m going. I’m running on pure instinct, chasing the sound of her panic.
Then—a flash of sandy-blond hair. A door across the dance floor bursts open.
I’m there in under eleven seconds. I slam my shoulder into the door and nearly trip over the two bodies sprawled out on the floor.
In the blink of an eye, I’m on my knees.
Teya is gasping for air, clinging to Alex’s limp body, shaking him, sobbing.
I reach for both of them, careful not to be too rough, and gently tug Teya away from her brother. Her small body folds into mine, and I cradle her against my chest. With my free hand, I lean over Alex and press two fingers to his neck.
Thank God. He has a pulse.
I ease him onto his back, my hand trembling as it brushes over his striking features. A long gash runs across the side of his cheek, temple to chin. Blood streaks his face, warm and sticky under my touch. A pool of red spreads across the ground.
“Alex… Alex,” I whisper-shout, fingers shaking as they thread through his ruffled hair. His eyelids flutter open, unfocused at first, then slowly, he finds me. He lifts a hand and places it over mine, his grip weak, but deliberate. Then, his gaze shifts, finding Teya still tucked against my side.
“Oh, Alex.” She breathes a sigh, voice thick with relief as tears spill freely down her cheeks.
He looks past us, eyes unfocussed, drifting over our shoulders… searching… searching…
“NOOO…” he howls into the night, wind snatching his cry, dragging it down the narrow alleyway.
“What is he saying?” she asks, voice barely above a whisper. She sits up straighter.
“He’s drunk.” I ease my hold on Teya, shifting my focus to Alex. Rage coils in my gut. I’m going to fucking kill Gabriel for sending him down this road.
With that violent thought burning through my chest, I scoot closer and slip an arm behind Alex’s neck, carefully lifting his head.
“I’ve got you, mi amor. You’re safe now.”
I press my lips to his forehead as his panicked eyes flutter shut once more.
“Don’t leave me,” he slurs. “Please, don’t leave me.”
“Teya!” I shout, even though she’s barely a foot away. “There’s a gate behind the dumpster—unlatch it and push it open. I’ll get Alex.”
Carefully, I slide one arm under his legs and lift him, cradling his lean frame against my body.
The quickest way out would be through the club, but I dismiss that idea immediately—too many eyes, too much risk.
One photo, and it’d be all over the headlines by morning.
The back gate is the better choice; it’s hidden and leads straight to the valet lot.
I shift Alex’s weight slightly and reach into his pocket, fishing out the valet ticket. I toss it over to Teya.
“Give it to the gentleman at the front entrance,” I huff out, once again shifting Alex around in my arms.
Trying not to drop him, I dig into my pocket for my phone and hit speaker. “Fernando, soy yo Elijah. My friend is heading back your way. Please get her keys from the valet. And, amigo… be discreet.”
“No problema,” he replies, wisely asking no questions. In our tight-knit Spanish community, it’s an unspoken rule: the less you know, the better.
I pocket my phone and exhale, waiting for Teya to return.
“You’re so pretty,” Alex mumbles against my chest, his eyes still closed.
I hold him tighter, nuzzling his ear. “Am I?” I chuckle. His drunken words make me smile. I kiss the corner of his silly mouth, licking away the gold glitter that clings to his lips.
God, I love this man.
Teya whips her SUV across the parking lot and speeds over to where I’m standing, Alex still cradled in my arms. She throws it into park, jumps out, and rushes around to open the back door, motioning urgently for me to get in.
I shake my head. “I think you should ride in the back with him,” I say, preferring to take the wheel. She nods, and climbs into the backseat without argument.
“NOOO…” Alex yells again, just as I ease him in headfirst through the door and into her arms.
“Elijah,” Teya says, watching her brother thrash around in my tiring arms. “Maybe it’s better if you’re back here with him instead.” Her voice softens. “He’s calmer with you.”
She reaches out for him, fingers twisting through his unruly hair. “It’s okay, Alex. Elijah is staying with you. There’s nothing to worry about.” She presses a kiss to his temple, then jogs around to the driver’s side.
With no other choice, I reluctantly slide across the leather seats after Alex. His head settles in my lap as he curls onto his side, drawing him into a loose fetal position and nestling his bruised face into my groin. His lips press against my soft dick.
“Should I take him to your house, Elijah?” Teya asks from the front, forgetting for a moment that Emilee is there. She shifts the SUV into drive.
“How about we take him back to your place?” I suggest. “I can stay with him, if you don’t mind.”
“Absolutely, Elijah. That’s fine. More than fine. He’ll be glad you’re with him.”
“Am I going swimming?” Alex blurts out, slurring his words, a line of drool sliding onto my crotch.
“Jeeesus,” Teya laughs. “I’ve never seen my brother drunk before.”
I haven’t either, but I just smile, running my fingers gently along the side of his face. A soft moan escapes his lips and then, to my utter surprise, he opens his mouth and wraps his lips around my jean-clad dick. My cock instantly thickens against his soft lips.
“Elijah?” he mumbles around a mouthful of my cock.
“Mm-hmm…”
I hold my breath and wait for his question.
From the front seat, Teya adjusts the rearview mirror. “What happened? Is he okay?”
“Mm-hmm,” I manage, voice rough. “Yeah, he’s fine. I think he just fell asleep.”
And with his lips still hugging my dick, he begins to snore softly.