With a final glance to the mall, hoping to see Gabriel waiting for him at the drop-off point, Adrian backed out of the parking space and headed home. Why was he worrying so much? At sixteen years old, Adrian had done tons of stupid shit. He’d broken out of his room late at night without anyone knowing. Sometimes he’d disappeared for days when the atmosphere at home grew too toxic. He’d alwayscomeback.
Gabriel was his brother. They were cut from the same cloth, even if Gabriel was quiet and introverted, and Adrian wasanythingbut.
There wasn’t anything to worryabout.
Come tomorrow, Gabriel would be back in his room and the world would keep turning like it always had. They’d spend their summer goofing off and hating each other as usual. They’d weather life in the Lowe family home, and when the school year started, Adrian would drive Gabriel to high school before starting his classes oncampus.
It would be fine. There wasnothingto worryabout.
But in the morning, Gabriel’s bed was still empty, and his text messages remained unread. And the next morning, as the police grilled Adrian for hours about what he’d seen, and where, and when, Gabriel’s bed was stillempty.
And it was empty the morning afterthat,too.
The last two texts Adrian sent his little brother remainedunread.
Gabriel nevercamehome.
1
Sterling
Dimmedoverhead lights cast stretching shadows across The Shepherd’s second-floor hallways, interrupted by the mass of individuals craning their necks to look through the door of room nine. Throbbing bass rattled the floorboards, but the melody was lost, stolen by distance. The bodies clustered by the door made music of their own—different notes of quiet conversation blending with gasps and moans and crisp laughter to create a cacophony of chaos. Friday nights at The Shepherd were always crowded, but tonight’s crowd wasn’t typical. The men and women who frequented Aurora’s premiere kink club didn’t come to gawk outside the rooms—they came to playwithinthem.
Something wasgoingon.
Sterling took up a spot against the wall across from the door, surveying the crowd. Fitted leather harnesses and skin-tight latex neighbored lace low-rise panties and garters. One submissive Sterling recognized stood, nude, by his Master du jour, a tail dangling between his legs. Its other end was plugged firmly in his ass, holding it in place. There was no clear link between those that stood outside the door. At least, none that Sterling could decipher—and if anyone was in a position to figure out the correlation, itwashim.
The Shepherd was his kingdom, and its members hisflock.
The only explanation he could come up with was that someone had to be putting room nine’s chains togooduse.
Amused and intrigued, Sterling pushed off the wall to find a better vantage point, but as it turned out, none was necessary. The crowd in front of the door shifted, and Sterling was able to watch the happenings in room nine over the shoulder of a Dom he knew by face, but whose nameeludedhim.
In the center of the room, suspended from a metal frame, was an omega who had no place being wherehewas.
Lucian Bracknell, The Shepherd’s newestbartender.
His head was hung, and although his white-blond hair fell in front of his eyes, there was no hiding the release he’d found. Sterling studied him for a moment, taking in the way his body stretched as it rebelled against the chains that bound his wrists and forced his arms high over his head. If he wasn’t already in subspace, he’d betheresoon.
There was no mistaking a looklikethat.
And there behind him, ready to drive him further, was none other than a man Sterling was well acquainted with—MarcusHayes.
Sterling’s lips tightened. His back met the wall once more, and he watched as Marcus fitted Lucian with a black, eyeless hood. The material, whatever it was, stretched to fit the shape of Lucian’s head. Blond hair vanished, covered up byblack.
The crowd madesensenow.
The men and women who visited The Shepherd were contractually obligated to obey a certain set of rules. Rules were essential. They kept employees and club members safe, and laid out consequences for any breaches ofcontract.
There was no doubt that, in the eyes of those clustered by the door, the contract was being breached tonight, and in the grandest way possible. Fraternization between employees and club members was strictly prohibited. Work and play were to be kept separate at alltimes.
Sterling knew because the rules were second nature to him—he was the one who’d written them,afterall.
The scene before him changed. Lucian’s body trembled. Marcus leaned over his shoulder, his eyes lidded in a way that spoke not only of obscene arousal, but of tremendous love. There was delicate affection between them, and it struck Sterling in a way that made him understand Lucian’s recent resignation. What brought them together was more than kink—what Sterling saw in that moment was an act ofcommitment.
Oflove.
Sterling knew the men and women who frequented his club. The small, tightly knit community he’d united on The Shepherd’s dance floor was intimate. From all backgrounds and walks of life, they came to him. Some found what they were looking for and moved on, but men like Marcus? Men like Marcuswerelost.
