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  Elliott shook his head. “I’m not going to make a living if I sit back here. I need to work.” He sighed and straightened his clothes. Then he left the room, with Salvatore behind.

  Bull stopped him at the door. “I’ll watch the front. You keep an eye on him out there.” He went to leave after Salvatore nodded.

  “Bull,” Salvatore said, and Bull stopped. “Elliott keeps asking why everyone is doing this for him, and I don’t think my answers are sufficient.”

  Bull shrugged. “Because it’s the right thing to do. And that’s enough for me. I can’t speak for anyone else, but I’m doing this because I have done more jobs like Carson’s in my career and I have plenty to atone for. Being on the side of right is enough.” Bull turned and passed through the door to the club. Salvatore did the same, Bull’s words ringing in his ears as he tried to find Elliott in the crowd of people.

  SALVATORE WATCHED the crowd for the rest of the night. He scrutinized everyone who got close to Elliott, but there was no further excitement, at least as far as Elliott was concerned. Salvatore did break up a few altercations and escorted two men out of the club for dealing. They ultimately departed in police cars. Bull didn’t put up with that sort of activity at all.

  “It’s my lunchtime,” Elliott said when he approached him after midnight.

  “All right.”

  Elliott took him by the hand and tugged him out onto the floor. “Bull said it was your break time too.” Elliott shimmied his backside, his hips undulating in small fluid circles that left Salvatore’s mouth dry. “Come on, dance with me. Just for a few minutes.” He pulled Salvatore close and moved against him. Salvatore had no idea how to dance. It was one of the things he’d never learned to do. Still, Elliott made him want things he hadn’t before, so he did his best to mirror his movements. Salvatore thought he probably looked like an uncoordinated duck, but with the way Elliott looked at him, with heat and passion in his eyes, Salvatore didn’t care how he looked to anyone other than Elliott.

  “You’re beautiful,” Salvatore said.

  Elliott reached up and wound his arms around Salvatore’s neck, pressing to him. And damned if that wasn’t an amazing feeling. Salvatore enclosed Elliott’s waist in his arms, holding him tighter, letting Elliott guide him as the music and the heat from Elliott’s body threatened to overwhelm his senses.

  Time seemed to disconnect from him. Salvatore lost track of how long they were out there together until the song came to an end and the beat changed. He stepped back, and Elliott’s hands slipped away.

  “I have to get back to work. Ummm… thank you.” He smiled and Salvatore returned it.

  “You’re an amazing dancer.” He stroked Elliott’s cheek, wishing they had more time for just the two of them, but duty called. Salvatore took a step back and watched as Elliott turned and strode toward the bar, going back to work. Salvatore moved out of the crush of dancers to the edge of the dance floor, watching the others even as his gaze was drawn to Elliott.

  Salvatore needed to get his head where it belonged so he could help protect Elliott, but it was hard. Every time Elliott’s gaze found him across the dance floor, Salvatore’s heart beat a little faster and sweat broke out on the back of his neck.

  A tap on his shoulder pulled him back to the present, and he turned. Zach, Bull’s husband, looked up at him. “I swear we need to hire some short bouncers. I’m tired of having to look up at all of you. Sometimes my neck hurts.” He rubbed the back and then laughed. “You know it’s okay if you like Elliott. He’s a nice guy.”

  “I see,” Salvatore said. “Are you playing matchmaker? Spook warned me that you have that tendency.” He shook his head.

  “No, I’m not.” Zach pointed. “I was coming over to tell you that that guy over there bought Elliott a drink and I think he put something in it.” He glared for a split second. “And, okay, maybe I was trying to fix you up a little. But it seems you don’t need me. Go save Elliott.” He waved him off, and Salvatore hurried over to where the patron was about to offer Elliott a drink.

  Salvatore was pretty sure Elliott would turn it down, but it was superhot in here tonight, and his concern for Elliott made his heart beat faster. Even he might be tempted to down something cool, in some sort of momentary lapse of judgment. “Elliott.” He fixed a glare at the men at the table. “I think these gentlemen have had enough this evening and will be leaving.” He turned to the men. “I saw what you tried to do. Now, you can settle your tab and go now, or I’ll have the police come, they can test this drink, and then you can answer all their questions about what they will find in it.” All three of them paled, and the guy closest to him pulled out his wallet and laid some bills on the table. The others did the same, and then they left in a damn hurry.

  “What are you talking about? They offered me the Coke I brought.” Elliott huffed.

  “Zach saw them drug it,” Salvatore told him. “And I know it’s against the rules, but as hot as it is in here, I didn’t want you to drink it.” The thought of Elliott being at someone else’s mercy made his blood boil.

  “I wasn’t. I would have thanked them and taken the drink back to the bar. Hank would have given me a replacement.” Elliott touched his cheek. “But thank you for watching out for me.” A tear ran down his cheek, and Salvatore brushed it away. “I don’t know how much more of this I can take. All of it. The whole thing is almost too much.”

  “What’s going on?” Grant asked, his gaze alternating between them.

  “Someone tried to give Elliott a spiked drink,” Salvatore explained. “He’s okay.”

  Grant’s gaze softened immediately. “Are you sure? You didn’t drink any of it, did you?” He sighed and fanned himself as Elliott shook his head. “Go get yourself something to drink. I’m going to see if I can fix this.” Grant fanned himself once again. “I think I’m going to pass out, it’s so warm.” He hurried away, and a minute later, blessed cool air slowly descended from the ceiling.

  “I understand wanting it warm so people will drink, but this is a bit much.” Elliott sighed and stood still. “Dang, that feels good.”

  “Are you really okay?” Salvatore asked yet again. He wanted to take Elliott aside and check him over just to be sure. But he didn’t have any right to do that.

  “Yes. I didn’t drink any of it.”

  Salvatore gently gripped Elliott’s shoulders and leaned closer. “I know that. I mean, are you going to be okay? All this is hard enough on anyone. Hell, I’m trained to deal with stress and this is getting to me.” He rubbed gently.

  “I’m okay. I’ll probably fall to pieces after work, but right now I have things I have to do.” Elliott half smiled, and Salvatore released him. Elliott turned and went back to work, while Salvatore looked after him. Then he sighed and went to get his head back in the game himself.

  “ARE YOU sure that no one is out there?” Elliott asked at the back door of the club.

  “I checked. No one is around, and I have the guys in front watching the street entrance, so no one is going to be able to get in either.” There was little Salvatore could do about the other two buildings that had doors that opened onto the space. But they were for emergencies only, and he had never seen them used. Still, he kept his gaze peeled for any sort of threat until they got in the car. Then they were on the road to the house, with Salvatore taking a roundabout route in case they were followed.

  He pulled right into the garage once he got them home, leaving the engine running. Then he sighed and let go of some of the tension. “I’m going to check out the house. You slide over and get out of here if anything happens. Don’t worry or wait for me. Just go.” He handed Elliott his phone. “Call Bull if you have to and tell him what happened. He’ll know exactly what to do.” Salvatore got out and went inside.

  Everything seemed normal, and nothing had been touched. He checked his indicators, and none of the doors had been opened. Retracing his steps, Salvatore opened the back garage door and motioned for Elliott to come inside.


  Once Elliott closed the garage door and turned off the car engine, Salvatore locked the back door behind them and switched on more lights. “Are you hungry?”

  Elliott shook his head. “The last thing I want is food. My stomach feels like it’s going to punish me for the rest of my life.” His legs seemed wobbly, and he sat down. “To think that my stepfather hates me enough to want me killed.” He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. “I guess that just goes to show the kind of man he really is.” Elliott raised his gaze. “Part of me hoped that I was wrong and that I….” He swallowed and put his arms on the table, resting his head on them. “I don’t quite know how to deal with this.”

  Salvatore could easily understand that. He gently stroked Elliott’s shoulders until he sat back up. Then he tugged Elliott to his feet, lifted him into his arms, and carried him down the hall to the bedroom. “It’s okay. You just need some time to process what’s happening.” He toed open the door to Elliott’s bedroom and laid him on the bed.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m putting you in the bed so you can rest. It’s late and there’s been a lot going on. You need to try to sleep and let your mind get a handle on this, so I thought—” His words cut off when Elliott kissed him. It was gentle at first, but as soon as he responded, Elliott held him tighter, deepening the kiss until Elliott grew nearly frantic, like a live wire.

  “I….” Elliot gasped when they broke apart. “I need to feel alive and that everything is going to be all right.” He began to shake, and as much as Salvatore would have loved to have been able to take Elliott to his bed and act on these new feelings that kept growing inside him, he knew it was best if he pulled back. This wasn’t the way he wanted Elliott’s and his first time.

  “I know.” Salvatore held Elliott’s hands in his. “But is this out of fear?”

  Elliott lowered his gaze. “I get it.”

  “Get what?” Salvatore said.

  “You carried me in the bedroom…. I thought that was because you liked me, and….” He began breathing harder and faster. “I thought you wanted me.” He wiped his eyes and jumped off the bed.

  “I do. I think you’re—”

  Elliott shook his head as if to stop the words form reaching his ears.

  “Look.” Salvatore stood and hugged him, letting his fingers card through Elliott’s hair. “All night long I couldn’t take my eyes off you. No matter what. I should have been working, but I kept watching you.”

  “Then why?” Elliott was nearly crying, and Salvatore knew it was everything bubbling over all at once. He held Elliott tighter and let him release everything he’d been holding inside.

  “Because I want you when you can think straight, okay?” Salvatore made small circles on Elliott’s back. “Just take some deep breaths, relax, and let your head begin to clear. I’m not going anywhere, so just give yourself a chance to breathe and think about what’s going on. Your head is going in a million different directions.” He took a single step back. “I don’t want you to wake up tomorrow morning and wonder what you’ve done.” The truth was that if he did sleep with Elliott, it had to mean more than just a night of sex.

  “Really?” Elliott asked.

  “Yeah. You’re a young guy. Me, I’ve been around, and I’ve seen shit that you don’t want to even hear about, let alone witness.” Salvatore sat on the edge of the bed, and Elliott eventually took the place next to him. “I’ve slept with guys and women because I had to in order to get the job done.” He swallowed hard. This was the part of his past that he had worked hard to keep buried. Sometimes it came to him unbidden and at the worst possible times. “I don’t want you to think that’s why I’m interested. I like you. I really do.”

  “I think I see,” Elliott said.

  “Maybe and maybe not. It’s hard for someone who hasn’t seen the stuff I have or lived what I had to in order to survive. But I will tell you that when you and I do spend time together… like that, I want it to be special. Not because you’re scared or because your head is going a million miles an hour.” Salvatore sighed. “I know it may sound like the most unguy thing you’ve ever heard, but I want sex to mean something. It has to.” He turned to Elliott. “And I want it to with you.” Salvatore yawned. “I can’t believe I told you some of that shit. I must be more tired than I thought.” He lay back on the bed.

  “You really did stuff like that? I thought it was only in the movies. James Bond kind of things.” Elliott lay next to him.

  “Nope. It happens. When you have a job to do and someone gets in the way, you fuck them, kill them, or put them somewhere they can’t get to you until it’s over. That was the kind of stuff I did. Black ops. You’re sent by the government to clean up a mess, and if things go wrong, nobody knows nothing.” Salvatore put his hands on the side of his head. “Maybe someday I’ll tell you more, but so much of what I did is top secret.” He closed his eyes, because even if it wasn’t, he had learned a long time ago to treat it as if it were, just in case. “There has been so much deception, so much time spent fast and loose with the rules. I need something real, and I think that maybe you could be that something.”

  Elliott rolled onto his side, a hand sliding gently over his chest. “You really want to take your time?”

  “Yeah, I do.” Salvatore rolled over as well, sliding a leg between Elliott’s and drawing him closer. “Let’s give ourselves a chance. Anticipation is a wonderful thing, and I can wait for you.” He leaned forward and kissed Elliott gently, savoring the slightly sweet taste of his lips. He didn’t want to give Elliott the wrong idea or lead him on, so he pulled back with a sigh.

  “Is that snack still available?” Elliott asked, sitting up.

  “Sure.” Salvatore sat and cleared his head of the Elliott haze. “I can make some eggs and toast. That should be easy enough.” He checked the time, got off the bed, and went to the kitchen, where he got out the pan, put some bread in the toaster, and set about scrambling some eggs.

  It was quick snack and tasted good. Elliott must have enjoyed it as well, because he cleaned his plate and finished his juice, then yawned broadly. Salvatore had to stifle his own yawn as he took care of the dishes and then went right to the bathroom to clean up. He wasn’t sure if he should invite Elliott to sleep with him or not. The whole conversation earlier had him on shaky ground. He didn’t want to send the wrong message, after all.

  But as he checked on Elliott before going to his room, Elliott’s gaze followed him around and the jitteriness came back. Salvatore motioned, then took Elliott by the hand and led him to the bedroom. He slipped under the covers. Elliott went to the other side, and as soon as he lay down, Salvatore slid over to him.

  “I don’t think I can stand to be alone right now.” He sniffed and then lay still. “I used to think my life was really good. That I had things figured out. Well, at least some things figured anyway. Now I have no idea at all. It’s like my life has had the rug pulled out from under it and the things I thought I understood… well, none of them are true.” He sighed and Salvatore tugged him a little closer.

  “It’s like that for everyone now and then. Just hang in there, and we’ll all try to figure things out.” He really wished he had actual answers of some sort. Instead, he grew quiet rather than offer him useless platitudes that didn’t mean a damned thing.

  “Is that your version of ‘just take it one day at a time’?” Elliott asked, and Salvatore heard the amusement in his voice.

  “I guess so.” He closed his eyes, and Elliott grew still and quiet. He was like a heater, and yet the last thing Salvatore wanted was to back away from his lithe, trim body. “Just go to sleep. The problems will still be there in the morning, and hopefully when we’re fresh, we can look at them from a clearer perspective.” At least he hoped so, because right now, they didn’t have many answers to all the questions that raced through his mind.

  Chapter 5

  ELLIOTT WOKE and knew that something was different. Roderick had been c
hasing him on and off for hours, and all he could think of was his stepfather’s muscle coming after them. Elliott hated that he thought that way, but the dreams had been so damned real. He hadn’t slept very well to start with, but now he sat up and listened. To start with, he was alone, and then a bang from the other side of the house had him jumping out of bed, listening for more. “Salvatore…?” he said, trying not to be too loud. He had no idea what was going on. Elliott cracked the bedroom door open, listening, but the house was quiet, and that unnerved him.

  “Elliott,” Salvatore said. A door closed at the far side of the house, and Salvatore’s footsteps drew closer. “It’s okay. I heard something outside and went to take a look. Damned racoons.” He yawned and came into the bedroom, then checked out his foot. “Knocked over a shovel.” He rolled his eyes.

  “Did you break the skin?”

  “No. It was just noise. I feel stupid about it, though.” He lay back down, and Elliott got into bed as well.

  “When I woke up and you weren’t here, I didn’t know what was going on. I thought someone might have gotten you or something.” He shivered, and it wasn’t the air-conditioning. His dreams rushed back to him, but they weren’t real, and he told himself that over and over as Salvatore held him.

  “I’m sorry. You were finally sleeping peacefully, and I didn’t want to wake you up. I didn’t think it was anyone, but I had to be sure.”

  “How did you know?”

  Salvatore sighed. “Because if someone did actually want to get in the house, I never would have heard one of the trash cans hitting the concrete. They would be stealthy and sneaky as shit. Either that or they’d shoot the place up.”

  Elliott sighed. “Gee, thanks, that was just what I wanted to hear.” He rolled over. “Have you ever thought about a career as a motivational speaker? I think you’d… I don’t know… starve.” Teasing Salvatore was fun, mainly because he seemed to take it with good grace. Still, it didn’t help him feel any better.