“I trust Cy and Cy trusts them. You can FaceTime with him any time you want. They’ll make sure you’re getting daily updates. Twice daily, if that will make you feel better. These people who are going to watch over him have a farm and counselors, and one used to be a Texas Ranger. They take care of other people who’ve been hurt and are at risk. It’s a safe place, and there’s no way your father will ever think to look for him there. I swear they’ll keep him safe.” Preacher looked away and then back again. “They offered to keep you safe, too. Full security detail, safe house. The works. If you don’t trust me to watch over you. Whatever you decide, I’ll understand.”
This was fucking crazy. Memphis didn’t think anybody could keep him safe, not from his family and certainly not from the demons that lived in his head, but they both knew Memphis would choose Preacher over strangers. He’d choose Preacher over anybody, but he didn’t know if that was just his hormones talking or the fatalism that came from feeling like he was always one misstep away from dying. “You know I choose you.”
Preacher looked startled. “Do you?” Memphis leaned forward and brushed their lips together. “What was that for?”
Memphis flailed his hands in a who knows gesture. “For pretending you don’t already know the answer. For pretending I have a choice. For wanting to kiss me and touch me even though I have a panic attack every five minutes and I’m always either crying or yelling at you. For looking at me and thinking there’s something worth saving.”
This time, it was Preacher who surged forward, sealing his mouth over Memphis’s, his tongue plunging inside in a dirty kiss that caught Memphis completely off-guard and made his body ache with need. When Preacher pushed him down onto his back on the hardwood floor, it didn’t even occur to Memphis to protest. It all felt so fucking good. Preacher’s hands were in his hair, and his pelvis pressed against Memphis’s in a way that put the most delicious fucking pressure right where he needed it most.
His legs went around Preacher’s hips without thought as he broke the kiss and growled against his ear. “Fuck, you feel so good.”
The sound that left Memphis was more animal than human. He wanted more of Preacher’s kisses, wanted his mouth everywhere.
There was a loud knock on the door. “You guys good in there? Jackson has a meeting in an hour.”
Preacher sat up like he was waking from sleep walking. Memphis struggled to do the same, embarrassed. The man had just gotten out of prison. Memphis supposed that didn’t make him super picky.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” Preacher said, voice full of gravel. “I can’t fucking control myself around you.”
“I guess prison will do that to you,” Memphis said, forcing a smile onto his face.
Preacher didn’t smile back, just gripped his chin and forced Memphis to look at him. “Don’t do that. This isn’t about me being desperate. You think I couldn’t get in my truck, hit a bar, and go home with somebody if I was just looking to get off? I want you. You. Three days together and you’ve got me twisted inside out. Just admit you want me back. Admit that you’re not as undesirable as you think you are.” Memphis stared at him, mouth gaping. Preacher got to his feet and offered a hand. Memphis took it, numb. “Do you want to tell Knox or should I?”
“No. I’ll do it.” Memphis began to walk towards the door when he realized Preacher wasn’t following. “Are you coming?”
Preacher glanced down to where his cock was straining behind his zipper. “Unfortunately not,” he said ruefully. “Just give me a minute to calm down and I’ll be right behind you.”
Memphis blushed, warmth spreading through his core until he was burning up. He did that to Preacher. He wanted Memphis. The thought made him feel dizzy. They would be alone in a safe house somewhere. All alone. Together. And Preacher wanted him.
If he didn’t stop thinking that way, Preacher wouldn’t be the only one sporting an awkward boner, and that was not how he wanted to go and talk to his brother, much less greet Preacher’s friends. Knox was on the floor in the living room with Wyatt and Day, dragging a rope toy across the floor for the puppy. The others were holed up in the kitchen feeding snacks to Bo and Luke, who panted happily, more than willing to do tricks for their treats.
Memphis went and sat on the floor with his brother and his two new friends. “Hey, buddy. Can we talk for a minute?” Knox nodded. “I know I said I wasn’t going anywhere without you, but Tennessee wants to hurt me, and I’m afraid that if you’re with me, he’s going to come after you, too. So, just for a little while, until they make it so we’re safe, would it be okay if you went to stay with some friends of Nicky and Cy?”
Knox’s face was a mask of indifference, but his eyes told a whole other story. Memphis just wished he knew what it was. Maybe he was sad. Maybe he was resigned. Who the fuck knew?
“They have a ranch. With animals. And they said you can bring Donatello with you. You’ll be safe with them. They take care of people like us all the time. Okay?”
Once more, Knox nodded and Memphis felt helpless. He hated that he was just another person who was disappointing Knox. Another fucking liar.
Wyatt spoke up. “The people you’re going to stay with…they’re really good friends of mine and Day. We go and stay with them all the time. They have horses and goats and so much land where you can run and play with Donatello. They also have three cats and two dogs and kids for you to play with. And Day and I were talking and, if you don’t mind, we thought we’d stay at the ranch with you for a couple of days, just until you get comfortable. Show you around and stuff. Okay?”
Knox’s facial expression didn’t change, but his shoulders sagged with relief. Memphis looked at the two men and mouthed ‘thank you.’ They both just smiled.
These people didn’t seem real. None of it seemed real. It was like he was living in some surreal dream…or maybe he’d died and this was purgatory. On the one hand, coming back home had triggered every deep, dark fear Memphis had ever had. But on the other, there was this whole group of strangers who just seemed to envelope him into their strange makeshift family like it was nothing, like they rescued and adopted strays every day. Maybe they did.
Wyatt wasn’t lying about the things he and Day had been through. Somehow, Jackson had seen past all of Day’s insecurities and a crippling disability. Lincoln had loved Wyatt even when he thought he was unlovable. That was what he’d said anyway. Memphis couldn’t imagine anybody looking at either of them and not thinking they were perfect, but Wyatt assured him that was not the case way back when. They’d listened as he’d talked about his scars and his family, and they hadn’t tried to explain away his feelings or tell him he’d get over it. They’d just listened and then they’d asked if he was fucking Preacher and, if so, they wanted details, and that had been that. No judgment. No pity. Just invasive questions about his sex life or lack thereof.
Like friends.
When everybody left, Wyatt programmed his and Day’s numbers into Memphis’s cell phone so they could keep him posted about his brother and he could keep them posted about…whatever. Day had winked at him when he’d said it, and Memphis could feel himself growing hot all over. Whatever was right.
There wasn’t anything for Memphis to pack, so Preacher packed a bag for himself and grabbed food for the dogs. “We’ll stop once we’re out of the area and get you your own clothes. The safe house they’re sending us to is in Oregon, so we might have to stop overnight. They said there are staples in the house, but if we want to eat something other than soup and beans we’ll have to hit a grocery store in town once we’re there.”
Memphis just nodded. He wanted to tell Preacher he’d be fine just wearing his clothes, but that wasn’t true. Preacher’s pants gaped on Memphis unless he rolled them over and his shirt was two sizes too big. But he liked smelling like Preacher.
Getting the dogs into the truck and set up with their harnesses took the longest time, but once they were settled, they got on the road. Preacher turned on the radio, and Memphis’s lids grew heavy. He was mentally exhausted. It felt like a week had passed in just the last couple of hours. Memphis looked at the space between him and Preacher. He caught the look and smiled. “You don’t have to sit way over there, you know.”
Memphis unhooked his seatbelt, but instead of sliding closer, he curled up on the bench seat, resting his head on Preacher’s meaty thigh. The warmth of Preacher’s skin bleeding through the denim onto his cheek was soothing, and when Preacher’s hand dropped to card his fingers through Memphis’s hair, he closed his eyes and let sleep take him.
