Chapter Fourteen #2
A hand found his hair, even warmer than usual thanks to the exercise. “That’s a lot of brooding, even for you. What brought this on?”
He’d been trying to keep away from Eli’s touch. He may have had Nathaniel’s permission, but that didn’t stop the guilt. Still, this time he didn’t pull away. He needed it too much.
“I don’t know. Just him talking about—about after we get out. I’ve been trying to figure out what I have to offer, but I can’t think of anything. My entire skillset is prison related.”
The hand slid down to tug at his ear. “I can think of a couple of things.”
He pushed the hand away when the fingers brushed his neck. He couldn’t think when Eli did things like that. He stepped away and hefted himself up onto the bar. His body was improving lately. Even with all the distractions he’d noticed, or rather, it had been pointed out to him.
“You’re getting to be bigger than I was pre-prison,” Eli had said about a week back.
The initial reaction to that had been denial.
He well remembered Eli’s size that first fateful day.
The man had lost about fifteen pounds since then, maybe a little more, but he remembered, and no way did he look like that.
But then Eli had steered him in front of the nearest reflective surface, and he’d been forced to admit that yes, he was about that size now.
The growth had snuck up on him, a combination of better food and Eli’s workout regimen.
He was still doing pull-ups when he felt the eyes on his back.
He finished his set and eased himself down.
He wanted to jerk his head around, but he forced himself to play it casual and took the water Eli held out to him.
It was the sound of the man’s feet that gave him away.
By the time the shadow showed up in his peripherals, he had long since identified him.
“Tom,” he said, smooth and expressionless.
Big Tom came so close Samuel was sure he was about to be touched and couldn’t help the way his body stiffened in preparation. But the man stopped just short, looming over him. “You done with the equipment?”
They weren’t done, but he wasn’t about to say so. The last thing he wanted was to give Big Tom the opportunity to hang around and make comments. “Yeah, we’re just going to wipe it down. ”
A hand touched his back, but he relaxed into it. Eli, not Big Tom. He thought he would be led away, but instead the hand curled around his waist. “Actually, we have one more set. Would you mind waiting a couple of minutes?”
Surprise made him twist his head to look at Eli, so he missed whatever expression crossed Big Tom’s face.
“Of course. Take your time.”
That could have been the end of it, but of course it wasn't. After all, Big Tom had a reason for approaching them in the first place. He always did. “How’s that new food treating you, doc? Looks like you’ve stopped losing weight.”
Eli didn’t pull himself up onto the bar. He stayed with his hand resting on Samuel’s waist. Usually the weight of that hand was warm and welcome, but he couldn’t help but feel queasy now. He wanted to ask Eli why he was being difficult but couldn’t until they were alone.
“It’s treating me just fine.”
“What about that husband of yours? Not Fuller, of course. I mean your real husband. The one waiting for you on the outside.”
The hand on his waist tightened, almost painful, but that wasn’t the reason he couldn’t breathe. A threat? Was that a threat?
“I don’t see how my husband is any of your business.”
No , he wanted to say, wrong . You didn’t antagonize a predator. Not unless you had a much bigger plan to trap them with it. “Eli,” he said, unable to stop himself.
Big Tom laughed, the sound like the slap of a drum. “Careful, doctor, or you’ll stress your boyfriend, or I should say, stress him more. You don’t make his job easy, do you?”
Eli wasn't intimidated. “Speaking of jobs, where’s your bouncer? Don’t you usually have a couple of those hanging around?”
It was too much. Far too much. And he didn’t have to see the flash in Big Tom’s eyes to know it.
“You’re either a slow student, or Fuller is a bad mentor. Didn’t he teach you any manners?”
“He’s taught me plenty. Now if you’ll excuse me, you’re in the way.”
Big Tom stood there, looming for a few seconds longer.
Fresh growth or not, Samuel knew he couldn’t compete with a man who stood three inches taller and outweighed him by a good thirty pounds.
Big Tom leaned a little closer and smiled just enough to show a glint of the gold tooth in the left corner of his mouth.
“Poor Fuller. You sleep so little already.”
The man said nothing else and left, lifting his hand in a casual wave as he did.
But nothing about the man was casual. Samuel didn’t wait long.
As soon as Big Tom was a safe-ish distance away, he took a handful of Eli’s jumpsuit and dragged him back into the prison—straight to the bank of phone booths.
“Who are you calling?”
He didn’t answer. The line connected and then his sister’s voice was there. “Sammy?”
“You need to take Nathaniel to the estate. Now.”
She didn’t ask why. “Darren and Hailey too?”
It was a good question. Who else was in danger? Was anyone in danger? “Yes, until it’s safe. I don’t know if there’s any real threat, but—”
“I’ll call father now. They’ll be okay. I’ll make sure.”
The fear was still a tight ball in his stomach, but contained now. “Thank you.”
“Of course,” she said, and hung up. She didn’t waste words. Not when she knew action was needed. Eli, though, had plenty of words for him.
“What on earth was that?”
Finally, with some of the panic cleared, he could face him. He shoved at Eli’s chest. “Are you crazy? The biggest man in the prison!”
“Finn’s bigger.”
He almost shoved him again. Instead, he took hold of that jumpsuit and pulled him close.
He had to think. He had to plan. He pushed his face into Eli’s shoulder and breathed him deep into his lungs.
The worst part was knowing the man was only doing what he’d told him to do.
Establishing himself. Taking his stand. But now that it was happening, he found himself terrified.
His chest was so tight and stiff he didn’t know how he managed his next breath.
Eli’s arms came up around him. “I’ll be careful, puppy. So careful.”
He hated that. But what could he say? That Eli needed to roll over and do whatever Tom said?
No. The man was testing them. De-escalation was a good tactic sometimes, but mostly one of delay.
If they wanted real peace Eli needed to establish himself as an Alpha.
Being well-liked and a doctor was nice and all, but people needed to know he wasn’t to be trifled with.
Eli clicked his tongue and tightened his hold. “And now you finally have a taste for how I felt when you were pulling all your stunts. I hope you feel proper sympathy for me now.”
But he didn’t feel sympathy, only fear. Every day he became more afraid. Was that what love was? Being always afraid? “If you get hurt, I’ll do much stupider things. Really crazy shit. You won’t even know what’s coming.”
Eli kissed the side of his face. He did that often now. Sometimes at random, like this, and then always at the end of the day after lights out. “Come on. You can beat me at chess again. ”
Eli hadn’t lied about being careful. He chose his words well, stayed on the right side of all the prison rules, and pretty much gave no one any reason to abuse him.
There were a few tense moments with Big Tom, mostly when they passed him in the hall or saw him in the cafeteria, but otherwise things were good.
They continued to write letters, experiment with food, work out, and generally fill their days with so many pleasant activities they had Samuel wishing there were more hours on the clock.
And it wasn’t just his relationship with Eli that was blossoming.
Actually, things were becoming so comfortable with Nathaniel he was thinking of resurrecting a few boundaries.
“Stop,” he told him for the fifth, or maybe it was the seventh, time that week.
“What?” Nathaniel asked, genuinely confused despite being three feet deep into a story about restroom sex in a Scottish airport.
“You can’t tell me this stuff.”
“You’ll have to get used to it some time or another. Or are you going to leave the room every time I suck Eli’s dick?”
“Of course I will!”
“Oh please. You’ll be sharing your own Eli stories with me before long.”
“No, I won’t.” But it came out sounding petulant, and he wasn’t surprised when Nathaniel laughed.
The man laughed at him a lot, but somehow it never came out patronizing.
Some kind of magic was involved, or maybe he just liked Nathaniel's laugh. He looked over his shoulder and caught Eli as he was setting the phone back into its cradle. As their eyes met, Eli flashed his smile—the one that went right through his chest and out through his back—and made the usual gesture toward him. Samuel had long ago given up trying to get him to stop that. As if he needed permission to talk to his own husband. He just nodded and spoke into the receiver. “Eli’s ready for you now.”
“Finally done with work, is he? I swear, his patient list gets longer by the day. All right, give him to me.”
But he didn’t hand over the phone. Not yet. “Is everything okay? You’re not having any trouble over there, are you?”
Jenny had been more than thorough after Big Tom’s declaration of war, and Nathaniel was still holed up at the Fuller estate, but it had been more than two weeks and none of Jethro’s informants had found any sign of a threat.