CHAPTER TWO #2
He wasn’t a heavy drinker, so it was unlikely he drank himself into this condition, but something happened, and then he tried to move, and his body resisted.
Pain shot up his back, and his head felt like it was going to explode.
He took several deep breaths, trying to settle the pain.
He then remembered; it came back to him in a sudden rush.
He went out for a smoke in the alley behind the club, and he was attacked.
He didn't see them, only the fists and feet as they pummeled him.
But how did he get here, and where was here?
Slowly and with considerable effort, he sat up and moved to sit on the edge of this large, soft bed.
He looked down at himself and wondered where he got the lovely baby blue pajamas. Damn, they were comfortable.
There was movement in the outer room. Sitting there, wondering what he should do, he noticed his wallet on the side table.
Thumbing through it, he realized quickly that all cash was gone, but his ID and cards were still there, so that's something at least. Then it dawned on him, damn it, his watch was gone along with the gold band ring he wore on his index finger.
Those bastards beat the snot out of him and then took his stuff.
It shouldn't surprise him, but still, it pissed him off.
Money was one thing, but personal items had meaning.
Then there came another sound from the other room he wanted to go and check, but he also wasn't sure if he was ready for whatever was waiting for him.
Stop being an idiot he told himself and slowly stood up.
The remnants of his beating coursed through his body, pain and stiffness struck, and then gradually eased off.
Another deep breath, and he took a step and then another.
He wasn't moving well, but he was moving.
He stopped at the door for a few seconds and then opened it and peered out into the living room.
Across the room, standing by the window, was a man who turned to regard him with a half smile.
He looked unbothered, which was good. "Hello," Alex said, and his voice was strained and hoarse.
He coughed and said it again. "Hello." The man started walking toward him.
Alex didn't get a sense of danger, but rather he seemed pleasant and welcoming. Alex had no idea what it all meant or who this guy was, but he was sure he’d find out soon enough.
"Hello, Alex." The man said, and his voice was deep and sexy.
He was a handsome man, tall and solid and gorgeous, with black hair and dark eyes that seemed to cut right through Alex.
That was a strange reaction, but it was enjoyable.
He could feel his body responding, so he attempted to shift his thoughts to something less erotic, but as the man drew closer, his reaction seemed to heighten.
Alex glanced away, cutting the connection, and his body calmed.
"Where am I?" A reasonable question, and it took his focus off this guy's amazing body.
He wasn't usually so crass or reactive; maybe it was the beating, maybe his thought processes were affected.
He hoped he wouldn't react like this to every guy who came along.
The guy stopped about a foot in front of him, and Alex had to struggle with the desire to step back, but he held his ground. To move back would be rude, and he didn't want any wrong impressions until he understood what was happening.
“You’re in the penthouse suite at the Lakeside Hotel.
My name is Roman Sidorov. I work in security for the Rose Corporation.
I work for Conall Rose. I found you last night in the alley behind the Blood Rose.
" Roman gripped him gently by the upper arm when Alex started to sway on his feet and steered him over to the couch and had him sit. Alex did as he was directed.
He put a light blanket over Alex’s legs and then took a seat beside him. “Can I get you anything?" Alex hated to ask, but he was desperate for a cup of coffee.
"A cup of coffee would be great." Immediately, Roman was on his feet, and within a few minutes, Alex had a lovely cup of black coffee in his hands.
“Do you need sugar or milk?” He asked.
“No, this is good, thank you." Alex held the cup and soaked in the warmth and scent before taking his first sip. Roman returned to sit beside him and let him enjoy his coffee for a while before breaking the comfortable silence.
“Do you remember what happened to you last night?” His tone was soft yet intense and touched a part of him deep in his core.
This man had power. Alex didn't understand it, but it was affecting him in a carnal way.
Again, he pushed down the frisson that ghosted over his flesh at the sound of that voice and the power of his gaze, such intense emotional stimuli.
Roman took his hand, holding it loosely, and Alex just stared at it and did not move.
"I came with friends. What happened to my friends?" He remembered they were there together, so why was he now alone with Roman Sidorov, a stranger?
“Your friends went home.” Roman was clipped and direct without further explanation.
“They just left me?” Alex gripped Roman's hand without realizing what he was doing. He thought about the people he came with and apart from Jackson, the other three acted like friends, not close, but people he would have assumed would look out for him . . . maybe.
"Do you remember what happened to you, Alex?" Roman broke through his thoughts.
“I excused myself from the table to go have a smoke in the alley.
I exited through the door by the restrooms." He began thoughtfully, although still feeling a little disappointed in his companions.
He told them he was going out for a smoke, and not one of them extended the effort to check on him when he obviously didn't return.
"I stood out there for about ten minutes, and when I headed back inside, I was jumped from behind. That's all I recall until I woke up here a little bit ago." He drank his coffee, enjoying the flavor and the warmth.
“Do you recall anything about the men who jumped you?” Roman asked.
"No, not really. I think there were three, but I'm not sure. I didn't get a look at them; I was too busy trying to guard my face from the blows from their fists and feet." Alex stopped, took a sip of his coffee, and tried to think of anything identifying that he might have noticed.
“One of them wore black western boots.” He stopped abruptly and set his mug down on the table in front of them. The boots were familiar.
“What is it, what do you remember?” Roman had noticed, but Alex wasn't sure he wanted to share his suspicions. It was a little embarrassing, but finally, after several compelling glances, Alex told him.
“I think the boots belonged to Jackson, he was in our group, I work with him.”
"The black boots belong to him," Roman asked more calmly than Alex was feeling.
"Yes, I'm almost certain, but that doesn't make any sense. I was robbed, and Jackson wouldn't rob me. They took my watch, my ring, and the money from my wallet. He wouldn't do that." Alex frantically tried to find a reason for it not to be true.
“If he was willing to beat you unconscious in a dark alley, he certainly wouldn't be against robbing you as well?” Roman pointed out.
"I don't want to report this." He said while shaking his head.
"I don't want to cause trouble at work. He turned away, not wanting to discuss it any longer, so brought up the décor and view of the city afforded by the penthouse. The subject change was awkward and clumsy, but Roman didn’t fight him on it.