Shattered
Copyright © 2014
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. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.
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Cover Art: Book Cover by Design
Published By: Rascal Hearts
“Hearts In Hiding”
Anger and bitterness sizzled acidly just below the surface. “I don't fucking trust him.” Cole's fists clenched and he forced himself not to punch a hole in the fucking wall – or someone's head. “How could Max just send him away like that? With him?”
“He's trying to keep him safe.” Gabe spoke with a level of caution, clearly understanding how close Cole was to snapping – and not wishing to be the recipient of his rage. “If he's overseas, then he won't be in danger of being arrested if...if Devlin turns him in.”
Cole shook his head, unappeased. “I can't believe Abel...is taking that bastard's money and letting him...” Emotion squeezed the corners of his jaw, burning his eyes. “Fuck! He's too good for that shit. And this fucking mess with Devlin...how is he even still sane?”
“Easy.” Gabe coaxed him onto a barstool and massaged his shoulders as Cole dropped his head in his hands. “Abel's gonna be fine. I know this is a...shitty situation, and the boy deserves so much better. But it may not be safe for him to be here right now.”
“Why didn't he tell us?” Cole asked thickly. “We could've helped him find some other way to get the money.” An ache squeezed his jaw. He closed his eyes against the images that conjured up when thinking of Abel with that...parasite. “I swear to God,” Cole choked, raising his head. “If the fucker hurts him, or...damages his mind even worse...all the money in the world won't keep him safe. I'll fucking kill him.”
Gabe slid his hands over Cole's shoulders and down his chest, rubbing his lips against his ear. “You won't have to do it alone.” he murmured then kissed him. “I'll be right there to help you hide the body.”
“I'm serious.” Cole said tightly.
“So am I.” Gabe kissed his neck. “I would protect Abel at all costs.” He moved around in front of Cole and sat on the stool opposite him, hands on the guy's knees. “But I can't believe Max would send Abel off like that with someone who might harm him.”
“Yeah, well,” Cole said bitterly, “I'm not so fucking sure anymore where Max's loyalties lay. How could he even introduce Abel into such a situation? The man is quickly advancing to the top of my shit list.”
Sliding off the stool, Gabe stood between Cole's knees, squeezing his shoulders. He leaned close and kissed his lips. “Listen...there's nothing we can do about it right now.” he murmured. “So why don't we grab the VIP room...and I'll give you a nice relaxing dance to soothe your mind?” he kissed him again, his mouth lingering, tongue exploring. Cole's hands gripped his hips.
“I could go for that.” he groaned and stood up, crotch already beginning to thump with a low pulse as Gabe took his hand and led the way.
***
Somehow he kept up a calm exterior as his mind spun in chaotic frenzy. He smiled, spoke politely, voice controlled, went about business as if all was well in the world – when in reality, his world was coming apart at the seams, systematically shutting down, breaking away in pieces that fell into a black abyss.
He raped me! For two fucking years...he raped me!
Abel's accusations bashed at the inside of his skull with the force of a wrecking ball. No, he's lying, Devlin repeatedly insisted, again and again, feeling sick, wanting to puke every waking second. Why would he lie? Why! But there was never an answer to accompany the question. There was no plausible reason for Abel to conjure up such a story – and yet, he couldn't accept it. Wouldn't accept it. Craig was a good man. He was! It wasn't possible that he could be...
“Fuck!” Devlin choked and shoved into one of the restrooms, locking the door behind him, falling against it as he gripped his head in his hands. “You're lying, Abel...you're fucking lying! You're just trying to...justify what you did.” He squeezed his eyes shut and clawed his hair, sobs erupting up his throat. “You had no cause...no cause!”
He was going to rape Savannah! She was only ten fucking years old! He wasn't a good man! He was a fucking monster!
Devlin shook his head, as if the action alone could refute the accusations. No, he would never. Never! It wasn't even fathomable.
Ask Savannah. Show her a picture of Craig. Prove to yourself it wasn't Craig. It seemed like a simple solution...yet he couldn't do it. He didn't need to prove it. He knew his brother. He'd grown up with him. People didn't become...that...overnight. If he'd been that way...Devlin would have known, would have seen the signs. There would have been some indication. But there were none. None!
No. Abel was lying...or mistaken. But either way – he had killed an innocent man. A good man. He deserved to go to prison.
So why aren't you turning him in? What's stopping you?
Again, another question for which Devlin had no plausible answer.
***
Darkness pressed at the small window like a living, evil entity trying to get at him. Abel stared back at it, eyes blank, emotionless.
Just bust through and kill me already
. It seemed an enigma how his mind and body could be completely numb – and yet still hurt so fucking bad at the same time. A couple hours after Devlin had run out...the numbness had set in, drying his tears and emptying his soul. From that moment on, he had been functioning on autopilot. He vaguely recalled both Cole and Gabe hugging him goodbye, telling him they loved him, and that everything would be okay. But nothing would ever be okay again; he'd ripped out Devlin's heart...and the man had ripped out Abel's.
There was no coming back from this.
“Here. Take these.” Kaplan came over and sat in the soft, cushioned seat across from him and held out his hand, offering Abel a couple pills. “You need to rest. They'll help you sleep.”
“I don't want to sleep.” Abel whispered, though he barely felt conscious as it was. But he feared sleep...the dreams that would surely come and torture him.
“You're exhausted.” Kaplan said. “You need to sleep.”
“Why do you care?” Abel murmured dully. His head tipped and rested against the window of the plane. “You're not obligated to give a fuck.” Come on, dumb shit, he wants you well rested so he can fuck you – why else would he care?
Kaplan nodded slowly. “Not everything is motivated by obligation, Abel.” He stood and took hold of Abel's arm, lifting the boy to his feet. Abel didn't resist. He had twenty thousand dollars sitting in a bank account that did obligate him to Kaplan.
A single dim light burned in the bedroom. Kaplan set the sleeping pills on the stand by the bed then began to slowly undress Abel until he was down to his briefs. Kaplan stood before him, his arms loosely around his waist, fingertips caressing the small of his back. His face moved close, lips grazing his cheek. He seemed on the verge of speaking but rather ran his lips across Abel's mouth and kissed him lightly. Abel closed his eyes and kissed him back, his hands rubbing up the man's chest then gliding back down to the clasp of his pants. When he plucked loose the button, Kaplan reached between them and covered his hands, halting him.
“Later.” he murmured, his voice already thick and ragged with sexual need. “First...you rest.”
There was no denying that the silk sheets, warm blankets and soft bed were akin to heaven for his tired, aching body. The sleeping pills weren't necessary as, just moments after his head sank into the thick, silk encased pillow, Abel was asleep.
With credit to the sandman, there were no dreams, just deep and, strangely peaceful, sleep. When he awoke, they were still in the air. He didn't know where Kaplan was taking them, he hadn't said and Abel hadn't asked. He didn't care. The further away from his life in the city he took him – the better. If not for Savannah, he wouldn't ever want to go back. Just cut all ties. Because now, even the Phoenix brought with it memories of Devlin. How could it not? Both times they had made love, had been in the club. It held the most painful memories of all...the place where Devlin had sworn his love to him, promised nothing could make him stop loving Abel, or cause him to turn on him. But it had all just been empty words...as Abel had known they were when the man had spoken them. Yes, he'd meant them – but he just hadn't known that the truth would annihilate all his good intentions, every ounce of love he'd felt for Abel.
It was still dark out, silence prevailing. How could a machine like a private jet be so quiet, hardly make a sound? Kaplan shifted in the bed beside him, his breath even and smooth in his sleep. Abel turned onto his side and gazed at the man. In slumber, his face was relaxed, expression soft. His eyes twitched behind his closed lids, and Abel wondered what a multi-millionaire dreamed about at night.
This is your life now. Embrace your fate. You have nothing to go back to. It could be worse, couldn't it? The man could be a monster. He wasn't a good man! He was a fucking monster! Abel closed his eyes, brow pinching, squeezing, as he battled the memory. Count yourself lucky that he isn't another Craig.
He scooted closer and touched Kaplan's face, lightly dragging his fingertips down his cheek, detecting a faint dusting of stubble. Not unpleasant. Abel tucked his own arm under his cheek and slowly rubbed his thumb over the man's lower lip. Kaplan shifted again and his eyes crept open. Abel didn't pull away, just continued to caress his lip. Kaplan covered Abel's hand and then kissed the center of his palm before turning onto his side and gazing at him.
“Did you sleep well?” he murmured. He still held Abel's hand, and kissed it again before pressing it to his chest.
“Yes.” Abel didn't know what, exactly, reflected in his own eyes. He felt empty inside. Was his stare as empty? He rubbed his hand gently against Kaplan's pec muscle then raked his thumb over the stiff nipple.
Kaplan drew in a quick breath, then smiled, “Good.” Sliding his hand down Abel's side and pausing at his hip, Kaplan slowly pulled him closer until he was touching the man's body beneath the blankets. His very naked body...which was growing more aroused by the moment.
Drawing back, Abel noticed a flicker of uncertainty in Kaplan's eyes, wondering if Abel was resisting his advances. But it vanished when Abel slipped off his briefs and scooted close to the man once more. Breath quickening, Kaplan shifted, drawing Abel underneath him as the boy opened his legs and let the man move in even closer with ease, his hardened member raking firmly against Abel's.
Kaplan kissed him then rubbed his lips down his neck as Abel closed his eyes, fingers sliding through the man's dark hair. Soft groans simmered in Kaplan's throat, his hands caressing Abel's body as he slowly, rhythmically rolled his hips against Abel's crotch, the erotic sensation as Kaplan's erection massaged Abel's cock getting the boy hard.
Warm lips kissed Abel's throat and he tilted his head back as the man worked up over his chin and took his mouth again, his body growing more tense, cock hardening to steel as he rocked more firmly. “Are you here?” the trembled whisper fell onto Abel's lips in a hungry kiss. “Are you with me?”
“Yes.” Abel opened his eyes and met the man's stare. “I am.”
He wouldn't try to pretend anymore. He couldn't. The fantasy only worked when he believed Devlin loved him. But there was nothing there to believe in anymore.