Nischal [leopard spots 9] (18 page)

“We’ve got a trace on the number, Mr Hardy. I can’t tell you any more than that. Please trust that we’ll take immediate action.”

Preston craned his neck and looked up at Nischal. “You can’t even tell me when you’ll be going after him?”

“Soon, very soon.” Agent De la Garza must have covered the mouthpiece of her phone then because all Preston heard were extremely muffled voices until she removed her hand. “I’ll be in touch with you by seven a.m.”

Preston glanced at the time on his phone. That was five hours away. He could handle that wait if he had to. “Yes, ma’am. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. You did the right thing, calling me.” She hung up and Preston pulled up the phone number Paul had called from again. “She told me I did the right thing. What’d she think my alternative was?” He frowned as he stared at the area code. “It’s a five-oh-five area code.” He sat up straight. “That’s New Mexico! Why didn’t I try calling back?” he asked, more to himself than to Nischal, but Nischal answered.

“Because if he is someone’s property, and he wasn’t allowed to use the phone, calling back might cause him a lot of trouble.”

“Right, you’re right again.” Preston leapt up and ran for his bag. “I can do a reverse number lookup, though. See if I can get an address for this phone number.”

“And then what?” Nischal inquired.

Preston shot him a puzzled look. “What do you mean, then what? Then we go to wherever the fucker is who has my brother.”

“We might be in the way, and drawing more attention from the FBI wouldn’t be wise, not on my part at least, but if you want to go, then we will.”

“We won’t get in the way, and anyhow, I think it’ll take us more than five hours to get to wherever the call came from. We’re in Colorado, and this area code is Santa Fe or somewhere like that, I think. I’ll tell you for sure in a sec. We won’t be in the way, but we can be nearby, so if they find him, I’ll be able to be right there for him.” Preston got his laptop out and set it on the table. He faced Nischal. “I won’t endanger you or Sabby. If I have to meet with the FBI, you two need to stay at whatever hotel we check into. There’s no need to risk exposing y’all in any way.”

“Okay.” And just that simply, Nischal was ready to support him without question. Preston dashed over and kissed Nischal, just a quick chaste peck on the lips.

“Thank you. I’m so excited and scared. I’m worried whoever was yelling at Paul is gonna hurt him. I just want my brother safe.” He couldn’t think about the possible things that had been done to Paul, or he’d go insane.

“As long as he has you to love him, he’ll be able to get past this,” Nischal told him.

Preston tried to smile, but his lips wouldn’t cooperate. “I hope so. God, I hope so.” He went back to his laptop and started plotting where to look online, and what he’d do if he ever did get his hands on the person who had bought Paul like a damned pet.

He wasn’t naïve enough to think that just loving his brother would be enough to heal Paul, but perhaps, as Nischal had said, it would help.

Preston looked up the phone number. “Yeah, Santa Fe. We can be there in seven or eight hours. Agent De la Garza will have called me by then. I won’t get in the way as long as they’re getting my brother, but I have to be nearby.”

“Do you have an address?”

“No, I don’t. I’m not surprised, just disappointed. I knew it wouldn’t be that easy to find Paul.” Preston glared at the laptop screen. “It would have been awesome if it had been.”

Nischal came over and linked his arms around Preston’s neck in a loose hold. He propped his chin on Preston’s head. “So we go to Santa Fe?”

“Yes.” Preston rubbed his cheek against Nisch’s arm. “We go to Santa Fe.”

Chapter Sixteen

Driving in the dark usually didn’t bother Preston, but he was tired and jittery, an odd combination he hadn’t really felt since the days when he’d crammed for finals in college. He’d drunk way too many energy drinks back then. They wouldn’t have helped him much right now, he figured, because his exhaustion was as much emotional as physical. More so, because he was tied up in knots about his brother.

“I want to learn to drive,” Nischal said.

Preston nodded slightly. “Yeah, that’d be good for you and Sabby both to learn.” He signalled for the next exit. “I think reading and writing will be easier for y’all to learn than you expect. Both of you are smart, and attentive. Those two things are very important and make learning less difficult. Plus, you really want to learn. That’s the capper, the crown, whatever—the thing that means it’ll happen no matter what.”

There was an awkward silence. Nischal was keeping his thoughts to himself. Preston couldn’t tell what he was mulling over. Nischal finally blurted out, “Would you ever consider moving to Nepal?”

Preston wished it was daylight outside so he could see Nischal’s face. He had to keep his eyes on the road, so he couldn’t make out much of Nischal’s expression. Being honest was best. “I don’t know. That would depend on a lot of things—Paul, you, Sabby, me—I don’t know what I’d be able to do for a living there, if I could become a resident or what. Why? Is going back a priority for you?”

“I want to return sometime,” Nischal answered. He rested his hand on Preston’s thigh. “Not necessarily to stay, but just to see home one more time.”

“I don’t have anywhere that feels like home except for you.” Preston dared to take a quick glance at his lover. “Which I suppose means wherever you go, I go. Nepal, or Saturn, I’ll follow.”

“Why would I ever go to Saturn?” Nischal moved his hand, rubbing small circles over Preston’s thigh. “I’d rather go to Jupiter. It just sounds cooler.”

Preston chortled at that. “If I got to pick, I would want to go to the moon, check it out and see if there’d really been someone there before me.”

Nischal gasped. “You are a conspiracy theorist? I wouldn’t have ever guessed it!”

“I like to keep you on your toes.” A check of the time on the dashboard clock showed it to be almost four in the morning. There were still too many hours to go before finding out if Paul was found. Agent De la Garza seemed to be the type who stuck to her word, and she wouldn’t call him any earlier than she’d said she would unless there was an emergency.

“What about your parents?”

Preston cringed inwardly. “What about them? I’m having serious trouble following your conversational logic here. Are you deliberately keeping your thoughts to yourself, or is that mental thing between us down for repairs?”

“No, it’s—I didn’t want to pelt you with my own worries. I’m not trying to hide anything, really. It’s just that my mind is all…” Nischal heaved a heavy breath. “It’s jumpy.”

“Seriously, no more processed sugar for you or Sabby,” Preston informed his mate. A glance in the rear-view assured him that Sabby was still asleep. “He’s crashed. His sugar high wore off and he’ll feel muzzy when he wakes up, like he drank half a bottle of tequila. You only snarfed down a pack of chocolate doughnuts so you are just a little hyper. Mentally, anyway. Now explain what you meant about my parents.”

“Shouldn’t you call them?” Nischal asked. “Surely they’d want to know anything about their son.”

Preston shook his head. “De la Garza contacted them. She told me when I called her yesterday that she’d spoken to them—I guess when I was in the hospital. I don’t know what they said. She didn’t tell me, and I didn’t ask. They have my number, just like—” Preston’s throat contracted around the intense emotion that swirled through him. He cleared his throat then took a drink of his water. “I never changed my number because I wanted Paul to be able to call me if he needed help. If he could call me. I’ve kept the same PO Box I used, too, even though I’ve had to give up my lease on the apartment I was renting.” He gave himself an internal shake. His eyes were burning with tears that he couldn’t let cloud his vision while he was driving. Blinking them back, he offered Nischal what felt like a watery smile. “Anyway, the point is, our parents could have called me, and they haven’t, even knowing I was injured.”

And
that
shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did. Preston had had years to become numbed to his parents’ lack of concern for him and Paul.

Waves of sympathy flowed from Nischal. Preston struggled to keep his emotions in check. Sobbing while driving was never a good combination.

“They send two cards a year, one for Christmas, one for my birthday.” Preston laughed dryly. “I know I should be grateful for even that much contact. There are too many people who’ve been completely disowned by their parents after coming out. At least I get a card with their signatures on it and a fifty-dollar gift card twice a year.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t think I like your parents.” Nischal rumbled wordlessly.

“They aren’t bad people, not entirely,” Preston added quickly when Nischal’s rumbling became something more like a snarl. “They do good things for their church, volunteer at the homeless shelter—at least they used to. I really don’t know what they do now, but I just—”
How to explain?
“It’s not so simple as them being all good or bad. They’re like most people, a mix of both. Unfortunately, their bad part seems to be homophobic.”

“You’re kinder than I am, but you love them. I don’t. I won’t speak ill of them, though. I have no intention of hurting you.”

“Damn it,” Preston muttered. “I am trying really hard not to cry. Thank you for understanding.”

“I only understand that the thought of making you feel bad makes
me
feel sick to my stomach.”

“Are you sure it’s not the doughnuts?” Preston teased.

Nischal squeezed Preston’s thigh. “Not entirely.”

“You were supposed to say, of course not!” Preston huffed as he tried to poke Nischal in the ribs. It was hard to do when he was only using his peripheral vision to see the man.

“Shouldn’t you concentrate on driving?” Nischal asked as he batted at Preston’s hand.

“Probably.” Preston stopped goofing around and clasped Nischal’s hand in his. “I’m so glad we found each other.”

“Even though I’m not strictly human?” Nischal asked.

Preston cocked a brow at him just quickly enough to make it clear that he didn’t want to hear such a question again. “You are everything I could have ever hoped for, had I known to set my standards so high.”

“That’s…that’s good, right?”

Nischal sounded so insecure, something Preston had only heard in Nischal’s voice when he’d admitted being unable to read or write. “It’s incredibly good.”

“It’s awesome,” Sabby chimed in with. “He means he’s falling in love with you, right, Preston?”

Preston’s cheeks flared hot. “I—” Waffling was not going to help Nischal feel secure. “Sabby’s right. It’s not going to take much more to have me head over heels for you, Nischal.”

“Awww,” Sabby whispered. Preston almost told him to shut up, but he knew Sabby was genuinely touched.

“Can you pull over? Just for a moment?” Nischal asked.

Preston’s heart did a nervous little flutter and he steered the vehicle over onto the shoulder of the road. He put the gear in park then reached for his seatbelt, knowing what was coming.

And God, it was perfect, good and hot when Nischal grabbed him by the biceps and pulled him close. The kiss started out tender, Nischal’s grip almost gentle. Then Preston bit at Nischal’s lips and need flared between them. They grappled for better holds, trying to get more of each other. Preston was trying to figure out if he could ride Nischal’s cock in the front passenger seat when Sabby’s moan penetrated his lusty thoughts.

Nischal growled when Preston started to pull back. Preston’s cock perked up at that. He loved the possessiveness of that sound.

But he wasn’t getting off with Sabby sitting in the back seat, and neither was Nischal. Preston gentled the kiss, gentled his touches, until his and Nischal’s lust was banked for the time being.

“I want that,” Sabby said minutes later once Preston was getting the car back on the road. “Do you think I’ll find my mate soon?”

“Maybe,” Nischal replied. “Do you see why you shouldn’t settle for someone like Cliff? A guy who’d just fuck you and leave?”

“You don’t know for sure if he’d be like that,” Sabby protested. “And anyway, I wasn’t going to do anything with him. I just thought he was sexy with all those muscles and his blatant masculinity. He was like testosterone personified. It turned me on. I hope my mate’s like that, and I hope I meet him soon.”

Preston liked Nischal’s masculine form way better than the burly, too-hairy one of Cliff. “To each his own and all of that. If a guy like Cliff turns your crank, I hope you find one who has a good heart under that thick chest.”

“Me too,” Sabby agreed.

“Kapuk said our mates would be our other halves, the perfect match for us,” Nischal said. “So it seems to me that if the rough-and-tumble look is what really does it for you, then that would be the type of build your mate would have.”

“Does that mean you always longed for a short redhead with freckles and a soft build?” Preston asked Nischal.

“Always.”

And while Preston knew Nischal was teasing him, he knew it was because Nischal hadn’t really ever had the opportunity to figure out what kind of man turned him on. That he was Nischal’s first—Nischal’s only—would always fill Preston with happiness.

They made small talk for the rest of the drive, and by the time Agent De la Garza called, they were still two hours from Santa Fe. Preston answered the phone while taking an exit. He didn’t pay attention to which one it was. He just wanted to park somewhere so he could concentrate on the coming conversation.

“Good morning, Agent De la Garza,” he said as he drove down the access road. “Do you have Paul?”

“Not yet,” she answered, and Preston’s heart plummeted.

“What do you mean, not yet?” he rasped.

“We sent agents to the residence immediately after you called—”

“How immediately?”

“Within half an hour, we had twelve men and women there,” she answered. “The home was vacant. We knew the owner and your brother couldn’t have gotten very far away. We also knew the owner has a private jet. We’ve been at a standoff with him at a private airstrip outside of Santa Fe for several hours now.”