Chapter Eleven
ThewayMarcsleptnude, sheet barely covering his cock and his arm thrown across his eyes, was mesmerizing. His wide, long body was covered in hair and got Valon hot. Marc had been visibly exhausted for a while now. Valon was used to tour life. Marc was not. Valon had to let the man sleep. It was hard, though. Valon’s mouth filled with saliva at just the sight of him. They had forgotten to pull the blackout drapes closed last night. The morning sun highlighted the sexiness way too much.
With an inner sigh of regret, Valon crawled out of the bed. He found a pair of pajama pants and quietly pulled the blackout curtains closed. For a moment, he stood in the middle of the sitting room area in his bedroom. Valon couldn’t think of a single thing to do until Marc was up. If all else failed, he could head for the kitchen. He wasn’t hungry, but he probably should eat. On his way, his eyes automatically slid toward Marc’s bedroom. They had intended to move Marc’s things beforeleaving for his tour. In fact, they had grabbed a few empty boxes. But the idea of going on vacation had won, and nothing had gotten done. Valon smiled. Most of Marc’s things had migrated to Valon’s room already. There wasn’t much left to move. He could throw everything into boxes while Marc slept. One chore down, and his place in Valon’s bed solidified.
Valon stepped inside. The boxes sat on the bed. He knew he could get his staff to take care of this, but putting effort in made the move feel special. Valon felt a little like he was snooping as he packed what was left of Marc’s clothes. He scooped up a stack of t-shirts, and a book fell out, landing on his toes.
“Goddamn it. Motherfucker.” He tossed the clothes toward the bed and then checked out his poor, abused foot. Damn. That shit had hurt. Blood rose to the surface. The book was less than a foot away. It was open, and a few papers had slid across the floor. He gathered the items one by one, intent on shoving them back inside the book. One was Marc’s social security card. Valon didn’t even give it a glance before grabbing the next thing. It was his birth certificate. It made sense that he would keep everything on hand. Marc hadn’t lived in a permanent location before settling in with Valon.
Valon shoved the papers into the book. He started to close it, but something caught his eye. The name on the birth certificate was John Marcus Campbell. There was something familiar about that name. Surely Marc had told him his full name at some point. That was the only explanation that made sense. He grabbed the other scattered slips of paper. He might not have looked at them at all if he hadn’t caught sight of a familiar name: Backlash. Curiosity had Valon eyeing all the papers. They weredigital printouts of concert confirmation receipts. Every single one was for his group. He flipped through the book, looking for more loose papers. Every one he found was another of his concerts. Valon’s brow furrowed. Marc had obviously been to dozens of his concerts all around the world. Not just in the U.S., but in England and Canada too.
Valon moved to the bed and sat. He didn’t understand why he hadn’t known Marc was a fan. He knew Marc liked his music, but Marc had never acted like the typical fanatic, which was how these papers made him look. Valon was too far into the mystery of things now. He didn’t know what he was looking for, but he flipped through the pages again. It struck Valon. The book was a journal. Everything inside him screamed for him to put the private writings away. It was wrong to read someone’s thoughts without their permission. If the shoe were on the other foot, Valon would be upset if Marc read his journal. But something just didn’t feel right, and Valon didn’t know why. The concert tickets were so at odds with the Marc he knew. They went back for years, since not long after Valon’s first song broke the internet due to all the people trying to download his music at once. Maybe Marc hadn’t wanted to make Valon uncomfortable by admitting he loved Valon’s music this much. Another familiar name jumped out at him. Thacker Street. The entry was the last before the pages went blank.
9:00 a.m. to 9:30 jogs Thacker Street.
9:30 returns to his apartment inside the gym.
Thirty minutes later, the doors are unlocked to let customers in.
Valon read line after line, describing someone’s day. Unfortunately, he knew exactly whose schedule it was. Ry had stringently kept the same daily pattern as long as Valon could remember. Why would Marc have this? Unless… No. His mind refused to go there. Marc was always with him. Not to mention, Valon clearly remembered looking at the clock at nine on the day Ry had been killed. Marc had brought him so much pleasure, and all Valon thought about later was how he had been making love while Ry fought for his life. There was no way Marc had done anything. They had been together. Valon flipped back to nearly the beginning of the journal. He had to focus on anything else.
I saw him tonight. He looked right through me. Of course, he did. He doesn’t know I exist.
Nope. Valon couldn’t read about Marc wanting someone else. He flipped forward.
I’m getting closer. Maybe we’ll at least cross paths. That would likely take a miracle, though. I got the position as Ledger Stark’s part-time guard. I didn’t even have to ask. The odds of Valon visiting at the same time as one of my shifts are minuscule at best. But his dad seems great. He talks about Valon a lot. It’s like he’s there. Like I’m not a stranger.
Valon stopped reading. He stared into space. He couldn’t read another word, and he definitely didn’t know how he felt. This seemed like more than just being a rabid fan. Marc had obviously worked at getting close to him. Somehow, he had made his way all the way into Valon’s bed. A shiver ran through Valon.
The bed dipped beside him. Marc took the book and loose papers from him. He worked quietly to set the book to rights. “I wish you hadn’t read that.” His dead tone had Valon incapable of looking anywhere else. Marc looked sad. Valon’s chest hurt because he loved Marc, and the reason he had occasionally been a little scared of him showed itself. He never thought he would question his safety with Marc at his side. Valon definitely never expected him to need protection from Marc.
Marc flipped to a specific spot and tucked his birth certificate and social security card inside before dropping the book into the open box. His gaze never moved Valon’s way. Everything inside Valon screamed for Marc to fucking look at him and tell him it was all a bad joke.
“Did you kill Ry?”
The smile that immediately stretched Marc’s lips looked a bit unhinged. He chuckled. “You too, huh? Just like Kash, you think I have some predisposition to go on a murder spree just because of my dad. No, I didn’t kill Ry. His death was a happy accident. His dick got him killed.”
Marc moved around the room, packing his things while he spoke. “Steel sent me notes on Ry’s schedule. We had a plan to discredit Ry in every way. If we ruined his life enough, we could ensure nothing he ever said would be taken seriously. We were trying to free you. Then the jackass caught sight of some guy across a busy street. German says it was beyond obvious he was headed to shoot his shot. Of course, German couldn’t say for sure that’s what happened. He was too far away to see the guy too clearly. But Ry being Ry, he ran right out in the road for achance at a new fuck buddy.” Marc slapped his hands together, making Valon jump. “Dead.”
Valon was still too shocked to think clearly.
Marc obviously didn’t need him for this conversation. He angrily tossed the last of his clothes into the box. “So, no. My dad’s serial killer genes or whatever did not pass down to me. Thanks for showing me you’re just like everyone else. I tried going by my middle name. For fuck’s sake, I dropped out of college after the third accusation from police that whoever was the latest missing person had to be my fault somehow.”
So much information landed on Valon, he didn’t know what to do or say. His emotions swung wildly. “Your dad was a serial killer?”
Marc didn’t answer. He snatched up the box. “I’ll get out of your way. You can throw the rest of my shit away, I guess. I’m pretty sure you paid for it all anyhow despite me asking you not to do that.”
Valon watched in stunned silence as Marc left. In nothing but a t-shirt and pajama pants, Marc jogged down the stairs. Valon lost sight of him around the fourth step due to the way the room was shaped. On autopilot, Valon stood and moved to the top of the stairs. He heard the chirp of the back door opening. It chirped again when it closed. Valon sat on the top step and stared at nothing. Over the years, he had been so high, he had forgotten his own name, and still Valon had never been this wiped clean. His brain refused to churn out a single coherentthought. But beneath everything, one thing still stood clear. He loved a man he didn’t know, and that man had just walked out of his life.
Marc refused to think. He couldn’t. His truck basically drove itself without Marc’s input at all. It had been so long since Marc had driven his truck, he had to adjust to the stiff brakes again. Like every car in Valon’s garage, a company came every couple of weeks to start, drive, and mechanically inspect the vehicle. Thank God. He didn’t know what he would have done if his truck hadn’t started. Even though he had no place to go, he knew he couldn’t stay at Valon’s.
Marc pulled into the first parking lot and parking spot he came to. He covered his eyes. Valon’s expression stared back at himbehind his closed lids. The hurt, betrayal, and fear he had seen. Marc drew a breath that sounded like he was choking. Valon had looked at him like he was a monster. He swiped his eyes and stared into space. Time passed without him. His mind completely shut down. He had flown too close to the sun and lost everything in the fire.
Marc had been incapable of staying to face the wrath. Even now, without Valon having said a single harsh word, Marc couldn’t cope. What had he thought would happen? He supposed he just prayed Valon wouldn’t see him for the messed-up sociopath he was. Now that hope was dead. All hope for him at all dashed upon the rocks.
The passenger-side door opened. Ledger climbed in.
Marc stared at him, too numb to react.
