“Cade Connolly.”
He heard a long exhale of breath, then Leo said, “Stay away from both of them.”
“Why?”
“Because Strada still thinks the boy is his, and he won’t give him up.”
“You knew Strada was a psycho and you said nothing?” Quinn said sharply. “What the fuck, Leo? You let a boy get hurt?”
Quinn couldn’t believe what he was hearing. The community was small enough he’d been shocked that he’d not heard any rumors about Strada. Now to discover someone he knew and respected had known there was an issue and did nothing, said nothing…
“I didn’t know he was hurting Connolly,” Leo protested weakly. “I’ve only met the boy once. Total brat. I thought Strada had his hands full.”
Quinn clenched his jaw. He couldn’t say what he really thought without betraying Cade’s trust and he wasn’t going to do that.
“Have I fucked up?” Leo said.
“You have no idea,” Quinn snapped and disconnected the call.
He stared into the murky depths of his coffee cup for long moments before his phone buzzed again. “Yeah?”
“I hear you’ve got an additional complication,” Dominic said.
“Doug’s a narc.”
“Can you handle it?”
“Not sure,” Quinn admitted honestly. “Depends on Cade.”
“Let me know if you need to be reassigned.”
One thing Quinn appreciated about Dominic was he was all business. “I will. Dominic, I need you to look into something for me before I make waves.”
“Go on.”
“Leo North. Owns a club in San Fran. I’ve known him for years. He’s discreet. I called him to see if he knew about Strada.”
“And?”
“He knew but he did nothing. Leo’s not like that.”
“You want me to find if there’s any chatter?”
“Yeah. If I start asking questions it’s only gonna cause problems.”
“Will do,” Dominic said. “And let me know if Connolly needs to be placed elsewhere.”
Even the thought of Cade going to another bodyguard made Quinn feel sick, but he said curtly, “I’ll let you know.”
“Keep it together,” Dominic snapped and disconnected the call.
Quinn growled. The bastard always had to have the last word.
Cade
The anger that flooded through Cade when he saw Quinn cuddling Ian was something he never expected. He felt like ripping Ian’s throat out. How dare he cuddle Cade’s Daddy.
Quinn is mine!
Except he wasn’t, which made Cade angrier. And then he had to insinuate Quinn was into kids. His stupid mouth. He hated the look on Quinn’s face. Like he’d disappointed him somehow. Quinn was angry and disappointed with him, and then he walked away. Cade felt like he was three years old.
He stomped back into the rehearsal. Ian shot him a worried look. So he fucking should. One word from Cade, and he’d be out.
“About fucking time,” Keith bellowed, as oblivious as ever to the tension in the room.
Dave wasn’t, though. He stared at both Ian and Cade like he was waiting for one of them—Cade—to explode.
“Cade—” Ian said.
“Later.” Cade stalked over to his guitar and took a slow, deep breath. He had a job to do. He was a professional. Right?
“Get a fucking grip,” Dave said bluntly at the end of three hours.
“What the fuck’s wrong with you assholes?” Keith said.
The band was having a tense lunch in the kitchen.
Nothing had gone right from the start. Cade spent more time bitching at Ian than singing. After another failed start, Dave called it quits and they left the studio in search of coffee. Keith wanted beer, but Cade knew if he started drinking now they’d never get through the rehearsal.
Quinn wasn’t in the kitchen, but there was a note saying to help themselves to the sandwiches and chips. Cade felt the anger burn through him again. This was his home, not Quinn’s. He was the fucking host.
Keith descended on the food like a vulture. “You’ve gotta keep this boyfriend, Cade. He feeds us.”
That was like a shock to Cade’s system. Quinn was just playing a role. He was meant to be Cade’s boyfriend, his Daddy. Of course he would feed his boy. Where the fuck was he?
“Cade,” Ian said. “Can we talk?”
“For fuck’s sake, whatever it is, kiss and make up,” Keith mumbled, his mouth half full.
Maybe he wasn’t so oblivious after all.
Cade stared coldly at Ian, but he nodded. “Come with me.”
He led Ian into the den and turned to face him, his arms crossed.
Ian looked down at the floor and shuffled his feet. “I didn’t know Quinn was your boyfriend. If I had, I’d never have hugged him. I swear.”
“You have history.”
“We played once or twice, that’s all. Quinn has boys over for sessions sometimes.”
Cade gritted his teeth. That piece of information wasn’t helping. Ian caught Cade’s eye and realized he must have said the wrong thing. Again. He held out his hands.
“What can I say to make this better, man? Quinn is a good guy, a good Daddy. He won’t hurt you, unlike that other fucker.”
“You really think he’s a good Daddy?” Cade asked curiously.
“He’s one of the best. He takes care of you whether it’s for an hour or a year.”
“Why hasn’t he got a boy?”
Ian shrugged. “He’s away a lot. Boys don’t like that. I wanted someone who’d be around the whole time and he couldn’t promise that.”
“Have you got a Daddy?”
Ian hadn’t mentioned it, but he was new to the band and Cade had been dealing with his own shit.
Ian’s smile was tender. “I do. He’s the best. He’s there all the time.”
“Do I know him?” The community was small enough, there was a good chance Cade would have met him.
“Graham Knight.”
Cade blinked. “Wow.”
“I know!”
Ian had the grandDaddy of the Daddies. Cade had been too nervous to talk to him the few times they’d met.
“You’re very lucky,” Cade said honestly.
Ian nodded. “I am. And I know it. But I’d never do anything to hurt you and Quinn. I want you to know that.”
Cade let out a long sigh and knuckled his eyes. “I’m sorry for being a dick. I’m not as…certain as you are, and I let it get the better of me.”
“He won’t hurt you.”
“That’s what I thought about Strada,” Cade said.
There was a long pause and then Ian said, “Have I still got a job?”
Cade felt like a total heel for upsetting Ian. “Yeah. You’ve still got a job. Come on. Let’s get it right before Dave has an aneurysm.”
Ian giggled. An outright giggle. “He’s like an old mother hen, isn’t he?”
“Ladies, have you kissed and made up?”
Cade rolled his eyes at Keith’s bellow from the doorway. Their drummer had two volumes: outdoor and stadium. He turned to see Keith shoveling chips into his mouth. “Jeez, are you still eating?”