Promises 2 (2 page)

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Authors: A.E. Via

BOOK: Promises 2
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“Rome! You going to work today, or not? Out here sight-seeing at nothing.” Duke’s deep voice yelled from the open door.

Quick threw up his middle finger before pushing off the base of the massive tree and making his way up the bricked walkway. “Can’t a man have a few minutes of peace?”

“Not on my fucking dime, he can’t. Now get in here, we have two skips today and Dana is heading over to Fulton to do a bond.” Duke was rattling off the day’s business, already in full steam ahead mode. His energy level through the roof at five a.m.
Pfft. I wonder why.

Quick’s steps were heavy along the all-wooden floor. He made a beeline for the still-dripping pot of coffee and poured himself a large cup, not caring about interrupting the flow. He’d slept like shit last night. Although Vaughan hadn’t lived with him very long after he returned from law school, he’d still liked the idea of cooking for two again, of sitting on the patio and discussing his day with his son while they drank a few brews. That had actually been pretty cool. But Vaughan had moved in with Duke fairly fast, so Quick found himself arriving earlier for work than usual and was typically the last to leave.

Duke was going on about where they were headed, but Quick only had one ear tuned in, his other was on… well, anything besides Duke. He dropped down into his chair and spun until his back was to his friend and he could focus on the serenity of the morning outside the large window.

“…Should be a clean pick up. Brian and Ford will be here any minute and we’ll roll out.” Duke finished up, and Quick nodded, still facing the window. He liked going out with the two brothers. They were efficient, sharp, and most of all, strong as oxen. It didn’t even bother him that Brian had yet to speak a word to any of them, still using sign language as his means of communication. Quick’s head jerked up when he heard the door open, expecting it to be the towering brothers. It wasn’t.

“Vaughan, what are you doing here?” Quick stood and hugged his son. They’d just seen each other the night before for dinner, but a hug was their customary greeting. Quick looked his son up and down, frowning at his attire. Noting that he was again dressed like a model, not a lawyer. His blue suit matched the light gray dress shirt he wore under a white and gray vest. No tie and ridiculously expensive gray suede shoes.

“Hopefully he’s here to see me,” Duke said, leaning casually against his office door. Vaughan completely forgot about answering his father and made his way over to his lover. Quick turned away when he saw their lips connect almost violently, cringing at the sounds that emanated from them.

“Damn, Duke, don’t you have enough spit of your own?” Quick grumbled.

The sound of laughter was his okay to turn back around. His son was wiping his mouth, staring at him like he’d ruined the best kiss ever. “I was on my way downtown and thought I’d stop in and—”

Vaughan was cut off when the door burst open again, another gust of cool air rushing in along with the two brothers. Since they were going out in the field on recoveries, they wore all black, including thick leather pants and coats to protect them if they had to scuffle with anyone. When you were a bounty hunter, the bail skippers didn’t always come willingly. Underestimating how badly someone valued their freedom could result in you being critically injured or in death – something Duke had experienced when he was practically beaten to death by some strung out drug addicts who would rather kill than go back to prison. Duke and Quick had been bounty hunters for almost twenty-five years, they knew this business, and they were the best. Not only did Duke have his own bail bonds business, but he also did bail recovery for other companies, while their other business partner, Judge, ran the private investigations office. 

There was plenty of work to go around and to keep Quick’s mind off other things. Quick watched as Duke walked his son to the door, his large hand at his back, his mouth close to his ear. Spinning his chair again, he noticed that Brian was staring at him with an amused look on his arrogant, handsome face.

“What?” Quick barked. Knowing Brian wouldn’t respond – like always – he got a soft shrug, but no words. Working together for the last few months, they’d quickly become comfortable with each other

Ford came in from their small break room, which consisted of a couple tables, a forty-two inch television, a microwave, and refrigerator. Most of them still ate at their desks because they were constantly communicating and exchanging information. Duke was the only one with an office. The rest of them had large desks placed throughout the open space. Dropping down into his large, executive-style chair, the mechanisms groaned and squeaked at the sheer weight and bulk of Bradford King.

Out of the corner of his eye, Quick saw Brian’s hands move in a quick series of gestures and his brother snorted at whatever was communicated to him. “You sure you’re okay with your son dating Duke?” Bradford asked, his grin barely there.

“That’s a stupid question. Vaughan saved his life. They’re in love. Case closed,” Quick mumbled, still not making eye contact with his colleagues. He fired up his computer so he could have somewhere to direct his attention other than on the speculative glances he kept getting.

Brian’s hands moved again. If you blinked, you’d miss it. Ford responded, “You’re right Brian. He didn’t answer the question.”

Quick rolled his eyes, but decided to stay hidden behind his monitor instead of delving further into the topic. He wasn’t bothered that Duke and his son were together. He was upset because he’d thought he and Duke would eventually be grumpy old men together. It was stupid, but it was the truth. He could admit it to himself, if no one else. When Duke and Vaughan first sealed their commitment, Quick was actually happy. Duke was a damn good man; he knew his son’s heart was safe. That’s what every parent wanted, right? But some of their long-held traditions began to change pretty quickly. Instead of going out for beer and darts after a hard bust, Duke opted to go home and be with Vaughan, leaving Quick to unwind by himself or with the King brothers. Duke used to come over for dinner at least three or four times a week, now Quick was lucky if he came over once. Who could blame him? Vaughan was an even better cook than him. Duke and he used to laugh at couples who went to dinner parties and game nights with other couples, but now his friend bragged about being the king of Win, Loose, or Draw among Vaughan’s lawyer friends. Friends Quick wasn’t asked to meet. Even his internal quarrel made him feel like a jilted bitch.

Quick simply needed to find something to do with his free time. Or at least with the time he used to spend with Duke.

Cayson

“What is it that you’re so afraid of, huh? Did you have a bad experience? You can tell me. Then maybe we can work through this.” Cayson’s voice was shaky when he spoke up again. He wanted to pretend what Joe had just done wasn’t degrading and humiliating, but it was difficult to hide his feelings. He couldn’t ignore the simmering heat he felt on his cheeks and the sweat beading along his hairline as he picked up the tossed bottle of lube from the foot of the bed. When he’d tried to give it to Joe to get him prepped, the man had damn near thrown up on him before slapping the thin, clear bottle from his hands.

“No! No, I didn’t have a bad experience! I just don’t want to play with your asshole, Cayson! Why is that so hard to understand? Not all men are into anal.” Joe was already throwing his legs over the edge of the bed, stuffing his feet into Cayson’s leather slippers. “Now I’ve lost my dang erection.”

Cayson squeezed his eyes shut when Joe closed himself inside his bathroom, slamming the door hard enough to make him flinch.
Why do I even bother?
Cayson and Joe had been off and on since they’d first met in the OR at Piedmont Hospital, three years ago. Joe was – and still is – a deeply closeted anesthesiologist. At fucking forty-two years old, he was still afraid of his grandfather, a big name in the hospital’s administration. Joe had even gone as far as taking a job at a hospital on the other side of town when Cayson started wanting more and had begun winking at him in the halls or in the lab. Now they only saw each other periodically. It definitely was a friends with benefits type of thing, but Cayson always screwed up when he started to want more. Joe would never give him more than what they had. Cayson was his uncomfortable little secret.

They typically had a good time between the sheets, when Joe relaxed enough. There was a lot of stroking, kissing, and sucking when they got their hands on each other, but Joe still considered it fucking, even though he wouldn’t penetrate Cayson, or let him do him. He thought he couldn’t be labeled as gay if he didn’t actually fuck Cayson in the commonly accepted definition of the word. Frowning again at the absurdity, Cayson stood and began to pull some clothes out of his dresser. He heard the bathroom door open, but didn’t bother to turn around. His cock still ached, so did his ass. It clenched in anticipation, only to be rebuffed again. He was so done with this.
You said that the last three times.

~~~~~~~~

“Dr. Chauncey, your three o’clock is here,” his nurse called through his speakerphone.

“Thanks, Nania, send him in.”

Cayson smiled while he straightened a few papers on his desk and closed a couple of strewn files. Duke and Vaughan had become more than just his patients; they were considered friends now. Although he
was
still waiting on his invitation to football night or something, anything. He thought he knew why they were keeping him at bay for now. Cayson had an overwhelmingly sinking feeling it had a lot to do with Quick. Cayson was the attending surgeon and Nephrology case manager for Duke and Vaughan’s kidney transplant. He’d been so blown away by the love and dedication the men had for each other that he couldn’t resist doing everything in his power to give them a real chance. He didn’t think he’d ever worked so hard on a case.

It made Cayson believe that miracles were real. If a man as sensual and stunning as Vaughan could swoop in like a comic book hero and save a man like Duke – who was no spring chicken, but gorgeous all the same, then there had to be some kind of hope for a decent human being like himself. He pushed his hand through his dirty-blond hair. He’d been letting it grow a little more on the top since Joe had mentioned that he thought Cayson’s longer hair was sexy. Hating where his mind had gone again, he jerked his head up at the sharp knock and the twist of his doorknob, telling the two lovers to come in.

He stood and came from behind his desk. He hugged Duke first. The contact was strong and sincere. The man didn’t look a day over thirty. His fit body filled one of the two large client chairs as he eased down into it. Cayson noticed Duke’s careful movements and made a mental note to ask about it. But, first, he looked Vaughan up and down, giving him a friendly look of approval. Duke blushed a little when Vaughan sat close to him and ran his hand over his thick mop of black and silver hair, which lay waywardly all over Duke’s head. But damn if it didn’t work.

“So what have you two been up to?” Cayson smiled, loosening his green and silver necktie. Vaughan grinned and nodded at the gesture, and Cayson just realized that it was the tie Vaughan gave him for his birthday a couple months ago. It was his favorite. With a light chuckle, he smoothed down the silky fabric before continuing looking through Duke’s chart. “Work got you staying busy?”

“Me, or…?” Duke asked, letting the question trail off.

Vaughan gave Duke what looked like a reprimanding glare, but the look was returned with heat and passion. Cayson had to loosen his tie a little more as he waited for the two men to have their moment. Vaughan finally spoke up first. “He tumbled down a flight of stairs with a three hundred pound man. His ribs took a beating.”

“How come I wasn’t notified of this?” Cayson aggressively fingered through a couple previous pages to see if he missed an ER visit documented in Duke’s file, but he hadn’t. “You didn’t get any X-rays done? What the hell, Duke?”

“I told you he’d be mad.” Vaughan whistled low, giving Duke a look of pity.

“Oh, shut up, troublemaker,” Duke groused.

“On the table, Duke.” Cayson got up and went over to the far right side of his office where he had an exam table and sink. When Duke hesitated, Cayson threw in a forceful, “Now” for emphasis.

“It was just some bruising. No big deal. I’ve had cracked ribs before, they were way worse than this. Besides, Quick took the real beating. I was on top of the pile. He’s the one all fucked up.”

Cayson’s hands froze while lifting Duke’s shirt.
Quick. Is he hurt? Is he okay? Did he go to the ER?
Duke noticed Cayson’s pause, his dark brow raised slightly in amusement.
Great
. Cayson could feel his face heating.
Not now.
Anytime Duke mentioned Quick, all Cayson could think about was how he’d embarrassed himself by flirting with an obvious straight stud who was so far out of his league it was ridiculous. Quick had shot him down so fast it’d made his head spin, and Cayson hadn’t fully recovered before he was thrown out of the man’s home like the filthy slut his behavior resembled.

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