Lord Carter needed to replenish his energy before the next round of fuckery.
Well, it looked like it would have to wait. Apparently. Graham was sneaking out, and he didn’t like that at all.
Why?
His friend would be hurt.
And that wasn’t happening on his watch. Putting the sandwich down, he headed up.
He really hoped this wasn’t what it looked like. If it was, Michael would be heartbroken.
And Graham Lainey?
HE’D.
BE.
DEAD.
* * *The Ravensmire Castle* * *
Upstairs
The Master’s Suite
When he walked into his friend’s room, Gryphen had already untied Ian, and told him to stay put. He had to do a little nightwork, and after he told him why, Ian didn’t argue.
But his mind went there too.
Oh, and they hated that they all thought that Graham would be sneaking out to fuck some stranger on his wedding night.
But what else could it be?
When Michael heard the telltale whistle, one that the security that worked for the Blackhawks used all of the time when they were on patrol, it did what it needed to do.
Michael sat up in bed.
“What is going on?” he asked, snapping awake.
“I just watched your husband sneak out of the castle,” he stated.
Michael’s heart thumped in his chest.
“That can’t be. He wouldn’t…”
Gryphen stopped him.
“Why else is he leaving at one in the morning when the bars close soon?” he asked.
Michael shook his head, and only one thing popped into his mind.
And it scared him.
As Gryphen stared at him, he defended him. They had to be missing something.
“No way. My husband wouldn’t do that to me. There has to be a reason,” he said, looking around.
Picking up his phone, Michael began calling his husband.
