“Eventually,” Roz said, “we became friends, and he started confiding in me too. Stuff he’d never told anyone else.”
Scar got tight.
“That’s why I’m in your face, Scar. Because I know who Gage is, down to his core, and I know who you are.”
Scar didn’t flinch. “And who am I?”
“You’re the kind of man who takes,” Roz said. “So, I’m saying, if you really like Gage… show him the respect he deserves.”
“I do respect him,” he gritted.
“Then prove it,” Roz bit out. “If you really respect him, then you have to honor his beliefs, and not let him compromise them, no matter what.”
Roz walked away, and Scar watched his back until he got to the door. He turned around and said one last time with a slight smirk tilting his full lips.
“If you hurt him, I’ll kill you.”
Scar dipped his chin. “Heard.”
He stood there, letting Roz’s story, confession, and threats settle into the deep places where he kept his instincts.
A few moments later, lighter footsteps stole his attention, his heart kicking into a faster gear before he even saw him.
Gage came into view, looking good in a simple way that still hit hard as hell.
His hair was styled like the models wore it, and he was dressed in casual but still expensive designer clothes—an ivory cashmere sweater, dark denim, and cream suede loafers.
But what really did it for him were the gold-rimmed glasses and the matte-black cane resting easily in his right palm.
He pulled Gage toward him, locked his arms around his waist, and buried his nose in that powdery-clean, warm scent he’d grown addicted to.
Gage brushed his mouth over his, sliding his hands up and down Scar’s back before he whispered in his ear, “I like your shirt.”
“Thank you.” Scar kissed him. “Ready to go?”
“Sure, if I knew where we were going.” Gage smiled, all sexy and fun.
“You do know the meaning of the word surprise, right?” Scar held the door open and let Gage take his arm. “Don’t worry. You’ll like it.”
Scar was beyond excited to give this to Gage, to even be out with him. But Roz’s story kept pulling him back to the rules.
Don’t take.
A man as special as Gage had to be earned.
White Ravens
Gage
Their driver, Callahan, slowed, then came to a smooth stop.
“We’re here,” Scar said, leaning towards him, humor lacing his voice. “Cover your eyes. No peeking.”
Gage laughed, loud and full, before he punched Scar’s shoulder. “Very funny.”
He slammed the car door closed and paused to listen to his environment.
Generator motors whirred and metal rattled in a weird rhythm. Kids and people were shrieking, with fun, and maybe a little terror. Laughter and countless footsteps scurried in different directions.
