Chapter Twenty-Six
Wes
My marriage was rolling downhill long before it finally ended.
I don’t even remember when Gina and I last slept in the same bed.
Which is why it surprises me how quickly I’ve gotten used to sleeping in a bed with not one but two someones.
How quickly I’ve come to enjoy waking up, overheated but secure, sandwiched between two muscular young men.
Which is probably why I jolt upright when I wake up alone. Or maybe it’s the whisper-yelling coming from the direction of the kitchen.
“…it’s a stupid fucking idea and…” That sounds like Troy, but I can’t tell for sure. I can barely hear them.
I stumble into the living room to find Troy and Adam facing off. Lots of animated gestures and hair pulling as they stare each other down. The way the two seem to be so in tune most of the time, it’s strange and worrying to see them argue.
“What’s going on, guys?”
They both stop short, looking a bit guilty.
“Kitten,” Troy murmurs with his gaze still trained on Adam. “You’re up.”
“Yes, I am.” They’re in the kitchen, near the refrigerator. I step up to the breakfast bar that separates the kitchen from the living room and lean over, sliding my gaze from Adam to Troy and back again.
They’re both tense. Troy seems angry. Adam mostly looks tired.
“Someone want to fill me in on what’s going on?”
Adam’s jaw firms. “It’s nothing.”
“It’s the polar opposite of nothing,” Troy snaps.
“Okay.” I brace my hands on the Formica in front of me.
“Here’s the thing. I’ve got a list longer than Troy’s dick of why this entire relationship is shakier than the rope bridge I tried to build in seventh grade.
I’ve got an appointment in—” I lift my gaze to the microwave clock display.
“—a little over six hours to sign divorce paperwork with a woman who spent the latter half of our relationship lying to me, so what I will not tolerate is the two of you keeping secrets. The minute that starts, I’m gone. Do you understand?”
A banging noise from the apartment above tells me at least someone was listening. Troy seems to flinch. Adam only stares, wide-eyed and silent.
Adam cracks first. “Tell him.”
“You tell him.”
“Fine.” Adam leans his back against the refrigerator door. “Rigby. The guy you met the other day at the hotel.”
“The one the two of you were supposed to be fucking the day we got kidnapped,” I say through clenched teeth. I’ve been trying to ignore how that encounter left me seething.
One thing’s for sure—I don’t like it. But is it a deal-breaker? Not yet. Which, after my relationship with Gina, makes me question my own sanity.
Truthfully, what Adam and Troy do for a living has spun my brain until I’m dizzy.
I want them. I care for them. The sex is good. Better than good. Amazing. Life-changing, literally.
No, I don’t want them fucking other people. But I knew who they were when this started. It wouldn’t be fair to change the terms. Even if I wish I could.
Still, I feel like I need to set some limits here. I cannot, will not, tolerate secrets. “Well?”
“That’s the guy,” Adam reluctantly agrees. “As you say, he had booked us for another overnight when we all got taken. He’s wanting us to reschedule soon. We don’t have a lot of wiggle room, since he already paid Brennan?—”
“Your pimp.” When I set up Fallon’s “blind date” with PJ, Brennan was the one I called. I want to hate the man on principle, except he did help rescue us and get Adam to a hospital after the kidnapping incident.
“Right. If he doesn’t kill us for not delivering on the job, Rigby might. He seems decent, but the rumor is he’s got friends in dangerous places. Guy doesn’t respond well to the word no. Troy is pissed?—”
“I’m not pissed. I’m saying you’re not going.”
“—that I think we should do it and get it over with when he thinks I should be taking it easy.”
“Also, because if the three of us are together, then this has to be something you’re on board with,” Troy adds.
“And you assumed I wouldn’t be.” It’s not a question. The answer is obvious.
“Are you?” Troy’s expectant, certain that he already knows my answer.
He doesn’t seem happy when I say, “I’m not sure.”
Both of them answer with a bewildered “What?”
I hold up a hand. “Don’t get me wrong. I hate the idea of you guys leaving to go fuck someone else. But as a guy who’s still paying his ex’s mortgage and drowning in debt, it’s not my place to make demands on how you pay rent. Especially not while I’m freeloading here.”
“You’re not freeloading. We invited you,” Adam insists.
“The outcome is the same.” I close my eyes against the emotion clogging my throat. It means something that they’re thinking of me in all of this. They could easily have told me to suck it up or get out, and what choice would I have had?
Troy scoffs. “We can afford to lose the job. Hell, we can even pay the guy back.”
“Are you sure we’re ready to make that call?” Adam asks as he worries his thumbnail against his lip.
I’ve got a bigger worry. “What about Brennan? You said he’d kill you. Are we talking literally?”
The man I spoke to, the man who came to retrieve us at that place, seemed okay enough for someone who had a raging bull tattooed on his neck and a semi-automatic in a belt holster, but what do I know?
Adam looks uncomfortable. “Maybe? The thing is, we’ve worked for him for a while. He’s taken good care of us. But my dad probably seemed like an okay guy too, until you crossed him. And…” He looks at Troy.
He turns to face Troy, who returns the glance. “Brennan’s only cool to a point. He has a hit man on his payroll. And owns property on Lake Jessup.”
Shit. “Isn’t that the one with, like, thirteen thousand alligators?”
“Closer to, like, twelve thousand, I think,” Troy says.
Adam shakes his head. “Nah, thirteen thousand sounds right.”
“For fuck’s sake.” I put my hands up. “Twelve thousand, thirteen thousand. Once you get over a number that amounts to many thousands of alligators, does it really fucking matter?” My own voice rings in my ears.
“Is there any chance Brennan just likes to fish? Maybe he’s going there for the largemouth bass? ”
Another bang on the ceiling.
“Sorry, Jalen.” The two call up.
“Oh, yeah, that’s the hit man,” Adam says, pointing upward.
What. The. Fuck? “You’re telling me the guy I’ve been pissing off upstairs kills people for fun and profit?”
Troy shrugs. “He’s never really mentioned whether he enjoys it.”
“Seems like kind of a serious guy, actually.” Adam nods.
I run my fingers through my hair. “Jesus Christ. This is a punishment, isn’t it? This is what I get for deciding to have my midlife crisis in the form of two much younger men who happen to consort with pimps and hit men. I’m either going to hell, or I’m already there.”
I pinch myself and it hurts, so I guess I’m awake. Or in hell.
TBD.
Troy reaches across the counter, grabbing my hand and forcing me to make eye contact.
“Here’s the thing, Kitten. We like it with a third.
We always have. But we never really considered the possibility of someone who didn’t come from our world.
Or didn’t at least understand it. If it’s too much, we get it. ”
“I call bullshit,” Adam murmurs. “He doesn’t want to scare you off, but he’s already in. And when Troy is in, he’s like a barnacle. Good luck getting him off your ass.”
“Seems to have worked out okay for you,” Troy fires back.
Adam’s eyes soften, and his lips curve into a slight smile. “Guess it did.”
Ignoring the way my heart does a little flip, I step back and put my hands on my hips, taking a moment to observe the two of them. Adam keeps insisting he’s fine. He’s been resting and watching his blood sugar. I’m inclined to believe him.
But… “Adam, I don’t know much about having diabetes, but I’ve had cancer.
Focusing on recovery is the most important thing.
Sometimes it takes longer to bounce back than you think.
If you believe you’re up for this, then I can’t say otherwise, but I’d rather you stayed home to rest.” Turning to Troy, I ask, “Would Rigby accept a substitute?”
“Maybe. It’s short notice, but we could see if one of the guys is free.”
It’s possible that I’m completely out of my mind or this is some sort of stress-induced psychosis, because the next words out of my mouth are “I could go.”
At least I’d know what was happening, right? Would that make it easier to take?
“No, you could not.” Troy puts his hands on his hips.
“Why couldn’t he?” Adam asks.
“Yeah, Troy, why couldn’t I?” I’m resisting the urge to cross my arms over my chest, but I’m definitely feeling oddly defensive.
“Because…” He glares at Adam, clearly willing him to agree. “You don’t have any experience. You’d hate being treated like a piece of meat. We don’t want you to have to touch a random old guy’s dick.”
“You could do the dick-touching, so he doesn’t have to,” Adam helpfully suggests.
Jesus.
Troy fires back with “Yeah? What if Rigby wants to fuck him or choke him with his dick? Put him in his place somehow. You’re cool with that? Because I’m not.”
Would now be an appropriate time to laugh or cry? This is officially the most ridiculous conversation I’ve ever had in my life.
I’m setting aside Troy’s possessive comment for now. I like it a little too much.
I drop my chin to my chest. “Okay, look. I’m not saying I’m thrilled about the idea, but I’d never been fucked or forced to swallow another man’s dick until we all got kidnapped, and I managed, didn’t I?” Realizing I’ve gotten a little too loud again, I try to soften my voice. “Right?”
The two of them exchange worried looks.
“Say you do this.” Troy’s clenches his fists. “Say you do it, and you hate it. It freaks you out, it makes how we earn our money a little too real, or whatever the hell else might go wrong. Are you going to leave us when that happens?”
Oh. I get it now. “Is that what it’s really about?”
Neither of them answer, which feels an awful lot like a yes.
Exhaustion weighs me down, and by the looks of it Adam’s having the same trouble. It’s too late for all of this.
For a moment I cradle the back of my head in my hands, staring up at the popcorn ceiling.
“Think this conversation is draining all the cells from my brain. It’s a lot, and in spite of my recent switch to working the night shift, I’d actually like to sleep some more.
Why don’t we all get back in bed and finish this later? ”
A reluctant smile spreads across Troy’s face. “Sure thing, Kitten. You going to let us fuck you again before we all go to sleep?”
I glance at Adam. “You up for that?”
Adam perks up. “How about you grab onto that countertop? You’ll find out exactly what I’m up for.”
My pulse jumps. They want to test how well I can handle both of them?
Good. Let them try.