Ever had tried—again—to get Arsen to let him cook—he knew how—but Arsen refused, saying he wanted Ever to focus on getting comfortable in his new space before taking on any domestic chores.
Ever smiled. That was just how Arsen was. He only cared about Ever and Ever’s feelings. Still, he felt bad. Arsen wasn’t made of money, and what he did get, he spent sparingly. When Ever had called him out on spending money on take-out, he said it was him cutting into his gaming fund, not bill money, and if he wanted to spoil Ever, he could.
It seemed like a dream. Ever had dreamed of escaping Jennika a million times over the years, had even thought about finding a way to end it all himself. But he just couldn’t do it. The promise of something more, someday, had always been too alluring. And now, he had it. Sometimes, he worried he had died and this was heaven. Did heaven smell like diesel fuel and motor oil? Maybe so.
Ever sucked in a breath. The garage.
That was where he had left his book. He’d sat on the counter after lunch and pretended to read while he covertly watched Arsen bending over the engine of the vintage car he wouldn’t stop gushing about. Ever hadn’t cared about the car, but staring at Arsen’s butt while he talked with passion about something that excited him was addicting. Especially, with his low, sexy voice and that sometimes heavy accent.
He was so…manly.
“Good boy.”
The way he’d purred that right in Ever’s ear… It was like he’d figured out the cheat code to Ever’s secret desires, and whenever he said it, it melted something low in his belly. They still hadn’t had sex. Arsen had been called to Jericho’s condo to take care of something and Ever had fallen asleep waiting.
He’d woken just enough to feel the bed dip as Arsen curled around him, and he’d fallen back to sleep almost immediately. When he’d woken up, Arsen was already in the garage. Ever had gotten dressed and joined him.
That was how he’d forgotten his book. Ever had pouted about not getting what Arsen had promised, and Arsen had given him the dirtiest kiss and told him to be a good boy, and Ever had immediately melted into a puddle.
It was okay, though. Arsen would never use his powers for evil. Ever wasn’t so generous. Now that he’d figured out how easily Arsen gave in when Ever pouted, it was hard not to employ the device any time he wanted to get his way. Not that Arsen really ever refused him. But, sometimes, real life got in the way of Ever’s playtime.
Ever slid his feet into the oversized sandals he used just for tromping around in the garage and headed down the stairs. It was loud. Jericho had left this enormous industrial-size fan blowing, facing the open back door. He’d said it was to help get rid of some of the excess fumes from a piece of equipment he’d fixed for a friend. Ever thought Jericho only fixed cars, but Arsen said he’d fix anything that needed fixing if he knew how. Apparently, that included street sweepers. Ever knew the fumes were bad for them. Even the boys next door complained, but Ever was starting to associate some of these smells with home.
Relief spread through Ever as his gaze fell to the counter. His book was exactly where he hoped it would be, on the counter, face down, and open to the page he’d left off on. He picked it up and checked, letting his eyes scan the first paragraph, then marked it with one of the business cards sitting on the counter. If he started reading right then and there, he’d probably still be reading in the same spot when Arsen returned.
Before he could turn to go back upstairs, the hairs on his arms stood on end like there was a ghost in the room. He froze. Something was wrong. He had lived in a constant state of fight or flight his whole life. He was so hyper-aware of every microscopic shift in his environment—not because it could save him but because he could at least mentally prepare himself for whatever came next.
He didn’t want to turn around. His heart was pounding hard enough to make his mouth go dry and his head swim a little. He swallowed down the heavy sense of dread choking him, turning at a near glacial pace, already knowing things were about to get worse.
A man stood behind him, head tilted to the side, eyes cold. Ever took in a black t-shirt, black jeans, and black boots, his gaze stuttering when they fell to the badge hanging from his neck and the gun on his belt.
A police officer.
Ever let out a shuddery breath, relieved. Until he really, really looked at his face. The dark hair, the brown eyes, the slightly overlapping front teeth. Ever started to shake. He couldn’t help it. The man was close enough for Ever to smell the sour sweat and the stench of drugstore cologne.
That was what did it. The smell. That was what threw him right back into the memory.“It’s okay if you scream. I like when you fight back.”
That was what he’d said when he’d held Ever down the first time. He wasn’t the only one, but he’d been the first. Bile clawed its way up his throat. Would the man still hurt him if he threw up again? That hadn’t stopped him last time.
Where was Arsen? He must be almost home by now. He just had to wait him out. Then Arsen would be there. Arsen would save him. He just had to—
The man moved so fast, Ever didn’t have time to react. There was nowhere to go, trapped behind the counter. Maybe if he could have willed his feet to move, he could have locked himself in Jericho’s office, but his legs were cement. And he didn’t even know if the office had a lock.
When Ever’s feet did finally decide to move, he did the only thing he could think of, running at the man full speed, driving his shoulder into his chest. He just needed to stun him. To get past him. He could hide upstairs. There were locks upstairs.
When they collided, the hit jolted through him like he’d hit a wall. The man wasn’t big but he was stocky. Ever tried to get past, but he easily snatched him from behind, slapping a hand over his mouth and dragging him farther into the shop.
Ever tried to scream but there was no hearing it over the fan. The man laughed, lifting him off his feet. Ever tried kicking, biting, scratching, but it was useless. Everything went fuzzy, pain exploding in the side of his face. The man had hit him. It had to have been his fist, but it felt like a brick, making him see stars like in a cartoon.
The man slammed him into the wall, his hand around his throat, and Ever was too disoriented to even try to fight back.
The man shoved against him like he was still fighting, even though he was simply hanging there, his knees ready to give out. “Ever. Ever. Ever. You need to relax,” he hissed. “Or I’ll wait until your little gamer boyfriend comes back and let you watch while I paint his brains all over these bricks.”
Panic knifed through Ever at his words. He tried to speak but the man’s hand still covered his mouth. He blinked back tears.
“There’s no need for the hysterics,” the man said. “I just want to talk to you. If I move my hand, will you behave?” Ever’s stomach churned, but he nodded. “Good.”
The man removed his hand but still leaned against him. His breath smelled like nicotine and coffee as he panted in Ever’s face, sounding winded. “Now, I don’t know what that bitch told you about our arrangement, but I encourage you to keep your fucking mouth shut. You see how easily we found you, even without your little chip?”
