Saint's Shelter: An MM Gentle Dom Bodyguard Romance

1. Saint

“Knock, knock,” Casimir Hallie called, knocking on my open office door. I tossed the pencil I was chewing aside, not wanting anyone to see that I still had the habit. I was working on some expense reports, a necessary but heartily hated part of my job, and I was glad for the distraction my friend provided.

“Saint,” Cas said. “I brought someone to meet you.” He came through the door with a tall and very gangly boy of probably fourteen on his heels.

“Who’s this, then?” I made my voice gruff, my southern accent deeper.

Casimir chuckled, hooking his thumbs into the front of his bulletproof vest. He knew I was teasing. “This is Clay. Ended up on my watch after he was caught shoplifting a sandwich.”

I hummed, looking him over. “That so? Where’d he come from?” The boy looked ready to either square up or run for his life.

“Washington State, heading for Arizona, at least as far as I can get out of him,” Casimir replied. “Is that right?” He looked at Clay.

Clay nodded. “Yeah,” he replied, not looking at either of us.

I knew what awaited him in Arizona, and why he was now standing in my office. “Take an alternate exit outta the can?” I asked him. He looked at me with surprise and then smirked.

“Maybe,” he answered. “Sure didn’t want to get to the Copper State.”

“No, I bet not,” I agreed. Arizona was one of the closest states that still allowed conversation therapy for LGBTQA+ kids and teens, though some were working tirelessly to get it banned there as it had been in many other states. “Well, if Officer Hallie brought you here, he must have had a reason. Come on, let’s get you settled in. Are you coming?” I asked Cas, who nodded.

“Yeah, for a minute. I can say hi to a couple of people.”

Cas stepped back and I came around the desk and shook Clay’s hand. “I’m Saint, by the way. Welcome to True Colors.” I let my voice return to its normal tone, a tenor with a light Tennessee accent.

Clay looked into my eyes for just a moment, taking my measure, and nodded. “Thank you, Sir,” he said. “I’m Clay Greene.”

Cas trailed us out the door, through the common area, and to a wall of glossy black lockers. I chose one, the small red plaque on the front reading ‘206,’ and pulled out my phone to find the combination. “I keep all the combinations in a document,” I told Clay. “Lockers are subject to random spot inspections for the safety of everyone. Weapons and drugs are banned. If you’re caught with weed, you get one second chance. Anything harder is an immediate eviction. Technically adult materials are banned as well, but we won’t throw anyone out for them as long as you keep them to yourself and they aren’t of anyone else here at the shelter or anyone underage.”

I saw Cas roll his eyes behind Clay’s back. He had heard this all before, but I could tell that Clay was surprised by more than one thing I said. “Here’s your combination,” I said, giving him the number. “I’m the only one with the document, so try to remember it since I’m not here all the time, although one of the staff can call me if needed.”

Clay nodded, opened the locker, and stuffed his backpack into it. I looked at Cas, who nodded, letting me know that he had been through the pack and there was nothing there that shouldn’t be.

“Hungry?” I asked, and Clay nodded again.

“Officer Hallie got me a sandwich,” Clay said.

I smiled at him. “Yeah, he’s a good guy.” I mock-punched Cas’s shoulder and he nudged back. “But you still look like you might have missed a few meals, how long have you been on your own?”

“A week,” Clay admitted. “I had some money on me at first, but I ran out and…” he shrugged.

“Yeah. It’s rough.” My tone was sincere. I was well aware of how it felt to be on your own with nothing in your pocket or in your belly. “Well, there’s always food here, although once you settle in there’s also kitchen duty.”

Clay brightened. “I like to cook.”

I turned my smile into a pretty fair approximation of the animated Grinch grin. “Perfect…”

Cas laughed out loud. “You’ve done it now, kid.”

I showed Clay to the boys’ dorm next and gave him one of the bunks. We were nearly full, but there were a few top bunks open still. Then I gestured back towards the common area. “Snacks out here, and supper is at five.”

Casimir and Clay trailed me and the kids who were engaged in various activities around the room looked up, or at least the ones who didn’t have headphones on did.

Some of the kids were reading, some were working on schoolwork, and some were playing games. We took in kids ages thirteen through seventeen, and I had fifteen of them in-house right now. There were boys, girls, and some non-binary kids too. Several waved at Cas. “Officer Hallie,” Elena Fernandez said, smiling at him.

“Elena,” Cas said, smiling back. She was working on schoolwork and he went to her and glanced at the book she was reading. “Good job.”

“Thanks.” She looked past him to Clay. “Did you find another one?”

“Yup,” I answered. “This is Clay. Be nice.” The kids usually were, this was a pretty empathetic group, but they needed a reminder now and again, they were teenagers after all.

“Yes, Saint,” everyone intoned, and I left Clay to settle in with them. I would explain the classes we offered and the rest of the benefits and expectations later.

I gave Cas a cup of coffee the Keurig in my office and sighed. “Greene?”

“Mmhmm,” Cas said. “Douglas Greene’s son. I’m sure you saw posters. I ‘didn’t.’”

I chuckled. “You need glasses, you’re getting old,” I said, but I was proud of him for his choices.

“Yup. Just can’t afford them on my salary though.” Cas shook his head with mock regret.

He snapped a plastic lid on his cup and saluted me with it on his way out the door. When he was out of sight I slumped back against my desk and sighed. I wouldn’t turn anyone out who needed help, but I had a feeling that having Clay Greene here at the shelter would make life very interesting.

***

When I finally got home that night, I spent a little time texting Shiloah, my brother who lived near Nashville. He filled me in on the threats against him because he had finally come out of the closet and was dating his very handsome bodyguard, Jackson. Shiloah told me that our sister, Ginny, was threatening him with ‘being cut off’ because of his sin, and I sighed. Our parents had been ultra-conservative religious and she had always been a daddy’s girl. Combine that with what I assumed was undiagnosed severe mental illness, and wherever this was going wasn’t good.

I warned Shiloah to be careful and said goodnight, then took a shower, sighing as the hot water pounded on my shoulders. I had made sure the water pressure was good when I rented this place, one of my few requirements. I spent so little time at home it almost didn’t matter what my apartment was like. Afterward, I sat on my bed and scrolled through my small collection of ‘adult media,’ as I had the folder labeled. I was stressed after talking to Shiloah and I knew I needed something to relax me and change my thought spiral if I was going to get to sleep before one AM.

Nothing looked very interesting until I spotted a clip with a very buff, tattooed dark haired man using an older, silver-haired man’s mouth quite enthusiastically. I hadn’t had anything like that in years and it looked very good tonight. I took care of business and fell asleep fairly easily after, dreaming about that sexy dark-eyed beauty choking me on his cock.

A week later, Shiloah called me at eight-thirty in the evening and started the conversation with “Now don’t be mad…”

“What did you do?” I asked immediately.

“I didn’t do much of anything. Ginny, on the other hand…” I heard a deep sigh and a rumble in the background that I took to be Jackson speaking to Shiloah. “Thank you, Jackson. Michael, there was a confrontation. Ginny is in custody. She– She was going to kill me.” He blew out a breath. “I went to talk to her, try to clear the air, and she threatened me with a knife. Jackson and I stopped her but I suffered a cut. No permanent damage.”

“Shiloah! My god, are you sure? Where were you hurt?” The thought of my baby brother bleeding sent a rush of horror through me.

“A single cut on the forearm,” Shiloah said. “Six stitches. Jackson is taking care of me. He was a medic, you know, I’m in good hands.”

“That’s good,” I said. That did help a little. A cut that only needed six stitches was better than it could have been, but it wasn’t great. “Now what?”

“Well, she’s under arrest. She’ll have a bond hearing soon. I don’t plan on bonding her out, so she should be there until she pleads guilty or goes to trial.”

I hummed in agreement. “I’m so sorry, Shiloah. I know that kind of shit is why you’ve stayed closeted all this time.” I knew he had been gay back when our parents had tried to ‘fix’ me and then kicked me out when it didn’t work. I didn’t know if it was the only reason, but Shiloah had stayed mum on his sexuality, both after he left home to work in Nashville and after our parents were killed. He had confessed to me when he moved out, but I wasn’t sure who else had known besides Alma, his best friend, and PA.

“It was easier. It was cowardly. I’m so sorry I wasn’t more vocal in my support of you, Michael, truly. I’m going to be working on making that up for a long time.” Shiloah sounded contrite, and it broke my heart. He was two years younger than me, and he had been there for some of the things my parents had tried in an attempt to teach me the error of my ways. He was even forced to participate in some of them, but I didn’t hold it against him. He was gay himself, he was a child then, and he had refused to do everything they wanted. I remembered he had been in trouble for some of that but he hadn’t backed down.

“I understand, Shiloah. It’s okay. There’s nothing to make up for. I love you.” My voice was gentle as I spoke to him. I loved him so much and I was very glad that he was happy now with someone who sounded like a genuinely good man. “Once you find out more about Ginny, let me know. I’m glad you told me what happened today. You should take some painkillers and let that man take you to bed and take care of you.”

Shiloah giggled a bit. “I did take a pill, and Jackson and I will turn in soon. I just wanted to make sure you were up to date. Detective Cross said he’d keep us in the loop about court and all.”

“Good. Let me know if you need anything.”

Shiloah promised he would, we hung up the phone, and then I put my head in my hands. “Christ,” I said softly.

***

Three days later, as I was sitting with Clay Greene, my phone rang. It was Shiloah, I could tell by the ringtone, but I merely silenced it and kept talking to Clay.

Clay had been having a little trouble with one of the other boys, and I was getting his side of it. Just as I gestured for him to continue the phone went off again.

I sighed and looked at Clay, who nodded. “It might be important,” he said.

“Clay, I’m sorry. You stay here, I’ll take care of this and be right back, okay?”

He nodded and picked up the water he had brought into the office with him, taking a long drink.

I answered the phone and there was no preamble before I found out what was wrong. “She was bonded out yesterday and didn’t show up for her check-in today, Michael. She skipped bail and I’m scared. She–”

“Hey, hey, Shiloah. Calm down. When did you find out?”

“Just now. Detective Cross told me. He said he didn’t get the chance to let me know she was out yesterday, but then she didn’t meet with the therapist which was part of the condition of her bond and he said that usually means they’re fleeing.” Shiloah sounded ready to hyperventilate.

Several parts of this concerned me. First, who had bonded her out? She was in on attempted murder and assault charges I had looked it up on the Tennessee judicial system website and read the charges, as much as they listed. Her bond amount had not been set yet so I don’t know how much it had been, but it had to have been a fairly substantial amount at least for her. Who had paid it, and why?

Secondly, if someone had paid it, surely they would want her to stay and go back to court, because otherwise, they would lose that money completely. Unless…

I had a very bad feeling.

“Shiloah, you have Jackson, he’ll protect you,”I soothed.

“But what about you? I’m worried about you. She said once she was done with me, her ‘reward’ was in California. She didn’t finish me, but maybe…”

My jaw worked for a moment. “If Ginny comes looking for me, she’d better bring the big guns. I’ve lasted a long, long time against people who would have cheerfully broken me, and I’m still here.”

“I know, Michael, but–”

My phone buzzed against my ear and I frowned. Usually only Shiloah texted me on this line. Only a few people had the number, just the way I liked it. I read the display and cursed softly.

“Michael?” Shiloah asked urgently.

“‘You should have been first. See you soon.’” I read to Shiloah.

“That has to be Ginny,”Shiloah said. “Who else could it be?”

“I’m afraid you’re right, but where is she getting the money? To get out, and then to get here?”

“Sir?” I heard a voice from the doorway behind me. “I might know.”

I looked back at Clay, who was ashen. He had the burner phone he had bought before he came to the shelter, and he was holding it out. An e-ticket for Phoenix, Arizona filled the screen. “My dad…” he took a deep breath and tried again. “My dad sent a text. He said that someone named Ginny will be here to get me soon.”