Chapter 4
Nik
The brush glides up and down against the wood, smooth and rhythmic, as I apply the final coat of stain to a baby’s crib.
My stereo blasts classic rock from a corner of the workshop, a gritty guitar solo echoing off the industrial walls.
The familiar scent of sawdust, oil, and pine settles into my lungs.
My shop sits just on the outskirts of Nashville.
The space is old, with exposed beams and brick, but it has character.
Axel and I live in the small apartment above, and since I opened my doors two years ago, business has been steady.
Turns out, people love custom furniture.
Cribs, tables, hope chests… anything they can slap the word “handmade” on.
I stay busy, and for the most part, I like it that way.
The bell chimes over the front door. I glance up and catch Axel’s silhouette.
He gives me a small wave, and I grin in return before refocusing on my project.
A moment later, I feel his arms slide around my waist from behind.
He presses a kiss to the side of my neck, sending goosebumps rippling across my skin, and then rests his cheek between my shoulder blades.
Eight years have taken their toll on our relationship, but we fought for each other and stayed together. That counts for something.
“I missed you,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough.
I don’t stop working, but the words raise a red flag. Axel’s always been physically affectionate, but emotionally? He’s not one to name his feelings unless they’re clawing their way out.
“I missed you too,” I say, casual but careful. “What’ve you been up to today?”
If I press too hard, he’ll shut down. Better to let him unravel on his own terms.
“I hit another dead end.”
My hand stills on the brush.
Lina. It’s always Lina.
A familiar ache pulses in my chest. I think about the girl who disappeared without warning.
About the text she sent me containing three big words and then nothing.
By the time I read it, her phone had already been disconnected.
She told me she loved me, then vanished into thin air.
Even now, knowing what I know, it still wrecks me.
“How so?” I ask.
“Our inquiry through the Underground hasn’t had any traction.”
The Underground is a communication front for criminals. A few weeks ago, we inquired about a woman possibly going by Carolina or Lina along with her description. We know the name Carolina Harrington doesn’t exist anymore, so we’ve had to get creative.
“It’s still early,” I say. “If she’s using a different name or has changed her look, it’ll take time. People are cautious.”
Axel doesn’t reply. His silence stretches long and tense. I know what’s eating him. Each day without news carves a little more hope out of him. And the worst part? He won’t talk about it unless I drag it out of him.
I set the brush aside, reach for a cloth and wipe the stain off my hands. When I turn, he’s still standing close, brown eyes stormy and tired.
“I just need her, Nik.”
The words slice like a blade. Even knowing where I stand with him, even after everything we’ve built, those four words hurt. But I get it, I do. He’s not saying I’m not enough. He’s saying there’s a part of him still bleeding, still incomplete, and she’s the only one who can make it better.
“I know you do,” I say, keeping my voice steady. “We’ll find her. It’s not a matter of if, just when.”
His eyes search mine for something. Faith, maybe? Reassurance? He must find whatever it is, because I do mean it. We’re going to find her. There’s no other option.
I cup Axel’s face in my hands, thumbs tracing over his smooth, sun-kissed skin. His copper eyes, wide and dark with need, search mine. Then he surges forward, crashing our mouths together in a demanding kiss.
He initiates, but I take over instantly.
My fingers thread into the longer side of his hair, angling his mouth where I want it.
Our bodies collide with a muted thud, heat crackling between us.
The hard ridges of his frame press against mine, feeding the coil of arousal tightening low in my belly.
I groan into his mouth as my jeans grow unbearably tight.
With a firm tug, I yank his head back. His flushed cheeks and blown pupils are a sight I’ll never get tired of. The brat grinds his hips into me, shameless, letting me feel the thick bulge straining behind his zipper.
I grip him there and squeeze. He grunts, the sound sharp and wrecked.
“Nik,” he breathes, voice raw and hungry. God, he’s beautiful when he’s needy.
“On your knees,” I command.
Like the good boy he is, Axel drops instantly. His obedience is smooth and practiced, his need palpable. I keep my grip in his hair as I pop the button on my jeans, then slowly pull the zipper down.
“Take me out,” I tell him.
He obeys, working my jeans and boxers down inch by inch in a slow, torturous tease. My cock springs free, flushed and thick, precum already weeping from the silver barbell piercing near the head.
I don’t hesitate. I thrust into his waiting mouth with one hard push, and he gags, then swallows around me. His throat clenches, and I let my head fall back, groaning at the perfect, filthy heat of him.
We’ve danced this dance a hundred times, and I know exactly what he’s asking for. He wants to feel punished. Needs it. Needs to bleed out the guilt for every dead end, every failure in our search.
I pull back, only to drive in again harder. Setting a brutal rhythm, I fuck his mouth with ruthless precision, thrusting deep until his nose presses against my pelvis with every stroke. Tears stream from the corners of his eyes, but he doesn’t look away.
He watches me. Reads every twitch of muscle, every change in my breath. Like he’s memorizing me from the inside out.
When my balls tighten and that electric burn climbs up my spine, he reaches up and massages them just the way I like. The world blurs as I roar through my orgasm, spilling deep into his throat. Rope after rope coats it, claiming. He swallows it all, never flinching, never faltering.
When I finally pull back, spent and throbbing, he stays still. Always obedient. Mostly.
I tuck myself back into my jeans with shaky hands, then tug him to his feet and crash our mouths together again. He tastes like salt and devotion, and I kiss him like he’s mine. Because he is. Because I love him in ways that scare the hell out of me.
I palm the thick line of his erection through his pants, making him shudder.
“You’ll come when you earn it,” I growl.
To anyone else, he might look disappointed, but I see the glint in his eyes. The small flicker of satisfaction that only I know how to read.
He’s not upset.
He’s exactly where he wants to be.
∞∞∞
Back upstairs in the apartment, we run through the same routine.
We go over everything we’ve already tried and failed at. Then, we assess the operations still in motion. The few slim threads of hope we’re chasing. Finally, we brainstorm anything we haven’t tried yet. No idea is too wild at this point.
One thing’s certain: we’re going to find Lina or die trying.
Somewhere in the last eight years, Axel and I built a life. We carved out space in the world for ourselves, but something’s always been missing. Or more accurately, someone.
Axel joined me at the University of Tennessee, a semester late, after his mom’s death.
Nothing changed between us, though. We picked up where we left off, except this time, we came out of the closet and made our relationship public.
Our families weren’t surprised. Hell, Johnny always knew.
We didn’t exactly keep it subtle. Apart from the occasional asshole stranger, most people are supportive.
We even tried, more than once, to find someone else to share that love with.
It never worked. With one woman, she always preferred one of us over the other.
With two, they’d compete, manipulate, or wedge themselves between us.
No matter what we attempted, it ended in disappointment.
Ever since Lina, it’s been impossible to make anyone else fit.
I miss the feel of a woman’s curves. The way she softens in your hands and the way she grips you when she comes. I know Axel misses it too. He’s just as hungry, just as unsatisfied. We’re happy, but not whole. We both know it.
“Maybe we can flush her out of hiding,” Axel says, fingers idly tracing the muscles along my stomach.
I glance down at him, one hand brushing the soft buzz of hair at his temple. “How do you mean?”
His eyes flick up, thoughtful. “Maybe we’ve been doing this wrong. We’ve been searching, trying to find her, but what if she thinks we’re just some threat from her past trying to track her down? What if we gave her a reason to come to us instead?”
I pause, letting that sit. That sounds like Lina, the girl who always cared more about others than herself. If she thought someone she loved was in danger, she wouldn’t hesitate.
“It’s not a bad angle,” I admit. “But do you think she’d care enough about Johnny to come back?”
I know what happened between them now. I know how deep their connection ran, and how often it crashed and burned. I’m not sure if guilt or anger would win out.
“Maybe not Johnny,” he says slowly, “but there’s someone she would come back for.”
“Who?” I ask, though I already have a sinking feeling I know.
“Ben.”
He’s right. If she thought Ben—her father, her protector, the man she only got to know for a handful of months—was in danger? She’d come running. No question.
Still… I waver.
“Ax,” I say carefully. “If we use him, if we manipulate her like that… she might come, yeah. But would she ever forgive us for it?”
His jaw ticks. He doesn’t answer immediately. I know he’s thinking the same thing I am. If we push too hard and she runs again, it’ll break something in him that might not come back.
“We have to be smart,” I add. “If she even gets a whiff of betrayal, we could lose her for good.”
Axel huffs, annoyed. “Who cares. We’ll chain her to the bed and make her hear us out.”
I raise a brow.
Okay, well… now that he’s said it, I don’t entirely hate that idea.
A small smirk tugs at my lips. “Kinky.”
He shrugs, unbothered. “Desperate times.”
I lean back against the headboard, dragging a hand through my hair. The room is quiet, tension humming in the air. He turns, resting his head on my stomach, his fingers still absently tracing my skin.
“We’ll figure it out,” he murmurs. “Let’s at least keep that idea on the back burner.”
I nod, staring up at the ceiling, thinking of Lina’s smile. Her laugh. The way she looked at us like we were the safest place on Earth.
We have to find her.
Not just because we need her, but because I know some part of her needs us, too.