Chapter 16
As soon as we walk into the club, I automatically look to the corner booth we usually take up.
Of course, it’s no surprise to see Saint and Noah.
I hesitate when I see Jackson is with them.
What will he make of the new development in mine and Roman’s relationship?
We’ve shared Roman many times; he’s a great Dom and a good friend.
I see the moment he notices our clasped hands and a bright, wide, and happy smile breaks across his handsome face.
His dark eyes shine as we get closer, then he stands up to close the gap.
“Look at you two. It’s about time you did this; it’s been on the cards for so long.
I never thought you’d get around to it, Knox.
” He looks at Roman, lazily looking him up and down, the bruises from my teeth on his chest and stomach.
“I will miss our playtime, boy. Make sure he’s good to you. If not, I’ll sort him out for you.”
Roman gives me a sideways glance before laughing. “I don’t think our games will stop, Master Jackson. I have too much fun to let you go that quickly.”
Jackson looks at me for confirmation, and I nod my head and let out a chuckle. “It’s always the sub who’s in charge, you know that.”
We sit down, Roman on my knee, facing Saint and Noah. Noah has his cock in a cage tonight, on display for everyone to see. I give Saint a smile, then turn to Noah. “It’s a good job you’ve got such a tiny dick, boy. I bet that hardly hurts.”
Saint laughs and tugs on the metal rings surrounding his perfectly normal sized cock, making his boy moan. “Say thank you to Master Knox for noticing your pencil dick.”
“Thank you, Sir.” Noah is glowing with what should be embarrassment, but we all know how much he loves humiliation.
“Are you playing tonight?” Saint asks, although he doesn’t stop playing with Noah’s cock and balls. Being ignored is another of Noah’s kinks. My brother couldn’t have found a more perfect sub for his level of domination.
“Yes. This naughty boy made me wait today, so he’s going on one of the platforms and being edged until he’s begging.
” I tug on Roman’s hair sharply. “I think…” I look over at Jackson, wanting to include him so he knows we meant what we said about sharing Roman.
“Master Jackson, could you help with this? Two Doms are better than one for this.”
We settle down and talk until it’s our turn, but before then, Drake and Finn join us. Drake is flushed and has the leftover glaze of a well-fucked sub in his eyes. But it doesn’t stop him from noticing me and Roe.
“Hey, look at you,” Drake says. “I’m happy for you both. Welcome to the family, Roe.”
“You’ll never guess who I inked today. You’ll love this,” Saint says.
“Maddox Levin. You know, the MMA champion. He had his name inked, and it came out great. Look.” He pulls up his phone and passes it around with the photo of his name in four-inch-high gothic letters.
It really was a work of art. “He was really interested in your wolf.”
I’m fully aware of Drake’s gaze on me. When I look at him, he’s frowning at me. I know my brother well enough to know where his head is going. It’s going to want to know where the connection is. And I don’t know the answer, only more questions.
“Hey, are you okay?” Roe’s fingers on my face bring me back to the present, and I’m not going to get any answers tonight.
I can try and work out why I feel I should know him.
As I hand the phone back, something else catches my eye.
A smaller tattoo in cursive writing on the edge of the left pec—Ellis.
“Hang on! Have you got a full-length photo, one that shows his face?”
Roman is watching my every reaction, his face a mask of confusion and concern. “Do you know him?”
“It can’t be… He’s dead.” I look at Drake; his lips are a tight, thin line. He remembers what happened, why I went off the rails. “I need to go.”
Roman scrambles off my knee before I tip him off. When I look at him, he’s hurt, and more, he’s confused. “I can make my way home, if you need me to.” He looks to the others in our corner. Noah holds out his hand for him to take.
This is all wrong. Why isn’t Roman coming with me? “You don’t want to come with me?” It’s my turn to be hurt.
“Of course, I do. But this is something I know nothing about; I don’t know how to be of any help.” He looks at my brothers; is he expecting them to step in?
“I want you with me, please?”
The smile he gives me lightens the feeling of bewilderment that’s racing around my head; he steps back up to me, and I take his hand.
Drake is saying something to Finn, who nods.
They both stand and come over. “I’m coming with you,” Drake says with a finality I am not going to argue with.
If anyone can find something out, it’s him.
When we get outside, the temperature has dropped, and I wrap my arms around Roman until we reach my car. I look over the roof to my brother. “See you in a few.”
I slide into my seat and turn to Roman. “I’m sorry to ruin our plans, and I’ll make it up to you. Can you wait until we get home before I start explaining?”
“I’m here for you, Knox. Focus on whatever is happening.” His smile is a sad one; I lean over the console and press a kiss to his mouth.
The rest of the drive home is silent, but it’s not uncomfortable. Roman’s hand rests on my thigh the whole way, his thumb sliding back and forth. I don’t even think he’s aware of the action, but it’s comforting. I pull onto my driveway, giving enough room for Drake to park behind me.
I walk into the house and straight to the kitchen and flick the light on. Drake knows his way around my place and makes a detour into the living room and the bottle of Jack Daniels I keep on a shelf. I pull out four glasses from the cabinet over the counter.
With the alcohol poured, I take mine and keep hold of it rather than drink any. The desire to down the whole damn bottle is bubbling very close to the surface. The men in front of me are waiting for me to speak.
“I don’t know what to say or where to start.” I’m still cradling my glass as I try to find the correct words.
Before I can say anything coherent, Drake speaks. “You know something about him, or you wouldn’t’ve asked me to look in into him.”
“Call it curiosity. He looks like someone I used to know. A grown-up version of him. But he died about ten years ago, maybe longer, I don’t remember. His name was Dean, not Maddox.”
Drake’s eyebrows shoot up to his hair line. “I couldn’t find anything about his life before he was an adult. Something happened, something suspicious. When did you last see him?”
“The day I came to the house, I went back to where we used to crash. He was there; I wanted him to come back with me. I knew Pops would have him. He told me he’d found a good way to make money, so he’d be all right, and he didn’t want me hanging around, to leave and go back to the fancy house.
Something like that anyway. It was a long time ago. ”
I don’t tell them he’d got involved with a gang, and he was shifting drugs.
Or how much I missed him and the temptation I’d faced to go, to find him.
I leave out the parts that had him saving me from the abuse I had in the foster system.
That he taught me how to survive on the streets after we’d run away together. Or how Pops found me.
I notice that Roman hasn’t touched his drink either; he’s watching me too intently to take a sip. “What triggered you tonight? Something about that photograph brought us to here.” It’s a gentle question, no accusatory tone—he’s worried about me.
Is this something I’m ready to share? The only other people that know my past name are Dad and Pops.
I had to disclose it when I was adopted.
I doubt they even think about it now. I’m not Ellis; I haven’t been that poor, broken wreck of a kid for so long that I doubt if I even have a clear memory of him now.
I don’t have to say the name, just explain my reaction to it.
“There’s a tattoo that I think may refer to me.
But I don’t know why he’d have it, and he’s now seen my tattoo, so I’m guessing Saint will have told him about it, and I expect he used my name. ”
It’s Finn who speaks next. “Isn’t it a good thing? He’s an old friend, right?”
“Didn’t you hear the part where he’s dead? He was stabbed by an opposing gang. He was dealing drugs.”
Drake is still deep in thought, his brow furrowed when he looks to me. “You know me, right? You know where I worked. There’s an alternative option. What if he was an informant, that he wasn’t really killed?”
I’m already shaking my head; the whole thing sounds like some movie that would have Tom Hardy in.
“Shit like that doesn’t really happen, Drake.
He was in some gang, and he met the wrong person at the wrong time.
Or what’s more likely is he was playing both gangs and got out of his depth.
He was always pushing his luck. It ran out. ”
“You’ve gotta trust me on this, brother. This shit happens.”