Chapter 1
SHELDON
Present Day
Hands gripped my shoulders from behind. “Did you see the full moon?” Raiden asked. “Shit always gets wild on nights like this.”
“I’d rather not think about people being more unhinged than they already are,” I replied.
“Are you including yourself in that?” He grinned as he came up alongside me.
I didn’t bother answering him. The moon hadn't done me any favors in the past. Why would tonight be different? When I was younger, I wished my mom and I could escape from my father. We both did, but in very different ways. It took her leaving this world for her to go. I left and regretted not taking her with me. Logically, I knew I couldn’t force her.
She was an adult who made her own decisions, but I was still her son.
She should have left. She knew as well as I did what he did was wrong. And yet she stayed.
“Hey,” Raiden said, jolting me from the past. His shoulder bumped mine. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, just thinking.” It was all I did. So much fucking thinking I couldn’t escape it if I tried.
“You can talk to me. We joke around and hang out sometimes, but you never go deeper than the shit that doesn’t exist between you and Forest. There’s more to you, Sheldon, more we can talk about. I won’t push you, but I'm here.” He shrugged, as if what he offered was no big deal.
I’d never been great about talking about my emotions in all of my thirty-eight years.
Sure, I could talk about Forest and the way he tortured me daily without realizing it.
My parents were different. There were numerous people in Jordan’s building where I worked who I could confide in.
Yet, I didn’t. The only one I’d ever poured my heart out to was Oleander.
He was a damn vault if there ever was one.
If only I didn’t feel like it was all me talking and never him.
Relationships, regardless of whether they were intimate or friendship, should be a give and take.
I felt like I took all the time and never gave. Oleander would disagree.
Then there was Forest. I wanted to protect him and felt a need to watch over him.
It was almost as if when I wasn’t in front of him, he’d forget I existed.
The thing was, Forest never gave any inclination, at least to me, that he had an interest in men.
And here I was with eyes only for him. Oh, I’d tried to fuck him out of my system.
No go. Forest was buried so deep I had no clue how to remove him, or if I even wanted to.
“Why won’t you talk to him?” Raiden asked.
“I’ve answered that before.”
“Always the same way. He’s not into men, and you want someone who sees and desires you for who you are. I get it, but how does he know you’re an option when you haven’t told him?”
Forest Weathers was Hartley’s brother. Hartley was one of Jordan Altair Sr.’s partners, the loves of his life.
And I worked for Jordan. Running into Forest was inevitable, especially when I was assigned to guard Hartley for the day, or if there was a pressing matter where he needed extra protection.
There was never too much of that for the people Jordan loved.
My and Forest’s lives were entwined in a roundabout way.
Forest’s cheeks would turn pink when I spoke to him sometimes.
It could mean he got shy around me or he embarrassed easy and it had nothing to do with me.
Some of the guards had told me they’d seen him watching me from a distance.
Great. Fantastic. None of this got me anywhere.
I sighed. “It’s my own fault.”
“It is, but it’s nothing you can’t rectify.”
“Currently, I can’t.”
Four months ago, I was stabbed while on duty.
I didn't mean a little poke, and I was good to go. I was knifed repeatedly to the point when I came out of surgery, Oleander was in tears as he hollered at me never to scare him like that again. I was near death, apparently. I didn’t feel much in the hospital, thanks to the medications they had me on.
When I was home recovering, I started weaning off the prescriptions, and holy fuck did it hurt.
Forest wasn’t there. He didn’t stop to see me once. Everyone else did. People I hardly talked to visited me when I was home and offered to help. I had more than I needed, except in one area. All I wanted was to see Forest.
From the time the knife got me to when I woke up from surgery to when I came home, I silently begged for him to show.
He didn’t. His brother visited often, telling me Forest was busy with work, had a new job, and traveled more.
I didn’t bother mentioning how he still came home occasionally, yet didn’t feel the need to check on me.
For someone who everyone said was always aware of where I was, where the fuck was he when I needed him?
Again, my fault. He didn’t know how badly I wanted him there. I at least thought we were friends. Didn’t friends visit each other when they nearly died?
Tonight, I was back under the full moon as Raiden and I stepped into the garage beneath Jordan’s building, the building where we lived as well. Raiden was a guard too. Apparently, today was the day for feeling sorry for myself. I wasn’t usually like this. I blamed the fucking moon.
I saw the sliver of light dance across the ground from the angle the moon was at in the sky. I was done making wishes. They hadn’t worked out in the past.
"Can’t you move any faster?" Jordan growled as we approached the SUV. We were closing in on a target that had been slipping through Jordan’s fingers. "If I lose him again, I’m going to blame you two for taking too fucking long to get your asses moving."
I met his eyes and said, “My apologies, sir. I’ll be sure to call the elevator company tomorrow to see about them putting more power into it.”
“Get in the fucking car, Sheldon,” he seethed. That was about as far as I’d push him at the moment. Every one of us had a limit with him. I’d reached mine.
There was no room in Jordan’s car. He traveled in his Maserati with Albert, his driver, in the front, and one of his main guards in the passenger seat.
Today, that was Vincent. Raiden used to be one of them, but since Lane became Jordan’s second-in-command, Raiden was reassigned as Lane’s guard.
It made sense since Raiden, Lane, and Alton, Jordan’s doctor extraordinaire, were in a serious relationship.
Tonight, Lane wasn’t scheduled to work. He’d been helping Jordan, following leads, busting his ass with very few breaks.
If Lane was in the building, Raiden took the opportunity to rest. None of us wanted a guard who was so tired he couldn't aim true if he had to shoot.
So here Raiden was, wide awake, talking to me about the moon and Forest, while Lane got much-needed sleep.
Jordan should probably rest too, but the man didn't know when to stop unless a bullet entered him.
Raiden slid into the front passenger seat of the Lincoln Navigator while I sat behind him. Oleander was in the driver’s seat.
My best friend gave me a smile when I shut my door. “Ready to draw some blood?”
“I’d prefer to inject him with this and smile as I watch his life end.” I held up a full syringe that I pulled from my sleeve. So what if I had special cuffs made to store syringes and vials in? We all had our skills. Poisoning was mine.
Oleander gave me a quick glance that read far too much into what I didn’t say, before pulling away from the curb and out onto the street behind Jordan’s Maserati.
The inky sky did nothing for us as we sped through the city streets of East Dremest. With the lights that lined every block and more that spilled out from storefronts and buildings, there was no way we could hide unless we traveled down the side roads.
Jordan was about speed tonight, not getting there undetected.
He’d tried the other way and lost the person in question.
He wouldn’t make that mistake again. Now Jordan wanted the man to know he was coming.
That his death was imminent, and the mafia boss himself would deliver it.
My poisons were a backup. A just in case Jordan didn't feel like getting his hands and clothes bloody.
A part of me wondered if that was why Forest didn’t let himself get too close to me. If it had something to do with Jordan and the job I did. It wasn’t like the mafia life didn’t surround Forest. Any time he visited Hartley at home, there was Jordan and at least one guard watching.
It always came back to Forest with me. That wasn’t healthy at all. My thoughts shouldn’t continuously stray to a man who couldn’t bother visiting me as I healed.
My arm shot out and I punched the seat in front of me.
“What the fuck?” Raiden yelled.
“Sorry, we hit a bump.” I wasn’t at all. I needed an outlet for my aggression, and there was no one for me to kill.
"Shel..." Oleander pleaded. He didn’t have to say more than that. He’d been begging me to open up.
Hell, so had Arden, our resident therapist. I’d been seeing him somewhat regularly.
We’d mostly unpacked my horrible childhood and worked on ways to help heal the past trauma.
Although, I didn’t believe there was any way to possibly mend it.
My mom was dead thanks to my father. He rotted in jail, slowly dying due to drinking himself into oblivion for years.
I longed for the phone call from the prison to say he’d finally died.
That fucker hung on out of spite though.
“Not now,” I muttered.
“Yes, now,” Raiden barked. He had a right to, since I punched him in the back. “You’re lucky you have your poisons on lockdown, or you could have stabbed me with one of them.”
“That’s a bit excessive, considering they don’t move when I land a punch. Plus, the thickness of the seat is more than the length of my needles.”
“He’s coming back tonight,” Oleander interjected. It wouldn’t do any good to fight with Raiden. I didn’t want to feel both his ire and Lane’s. Alton was a healer, not a fighter. I could hold my ground, but two on one wasn’t the kind of fun I wanted to have right now.
“It doesn’t matter,” I grumbled. “Nothing will change. It hasn’t in months. This will be no different.” I really needed to get out of this mood. Once the moon changed, I should be fine. Normally, I didn’t notice it. Tonight, it was right fucking there.
“You don’t know that for certain.”
Turning, I looked out the window, not bothering to respond. I’d have to bring something sweet to Raiden’s apartment later as an apology. I shouldn’t have lashed out. It wasn't like me. I was the calm one—the one who was always steady. An effort wasn’t made to be that way. I just was.
Fortunately, neither Raiden nor Oleander would repeat what happened in here.
They wouldn’t tell anyone I slipped. We all had our parts to play, and mine was the mediator, the person who could soothe Jordan and any situation.
If I lost that, I could be out of a job.
As much as the guards kept a bit of distance between us, we were still some sort of fucked-up family.
The kind who weren’t related by blood but would die for each other.
God, it was a wonder I didn't need multiple sessions a week with Arden. There was so much to unpack.
The SUV finally came to a hard stop, and the doors opened as we saw a person run into the shadows. It was another day in our lives. Another piece of shit human to get off the streets. Another floor for the cleaners to scrub after blood had run over it in one of Jordan’s warehouses.
It wasn’t conventional. It wasn’t legal. It was downright brutal, and we loved every second of it. Plus, it had the added benefit of keeping my mind and body busy. I’d worry about my thoughts spiraling as I washed up later.