“It’s the crawl out of my skin kind,” he whispered, snapping the band again, and the sting brought him out of his head and away from the bad memories. “They called me trash. My father said he always knew I was going to be worthless.”
“He was wrong.”
“Yeah?” Tears welled in his eyes.
“So incredibly wrong.”
Diesel’s eyes flashed with anger on his behalf.
“Who abused you?”
Diesel disappeared among a blur of tears. “My dad. He was trying to beat the sissy out of me.”
“Oh, baby,” Diesel murmured softly.
The word sent a shimmer of warmth that helped to dry the tears. “It was a long time ago.”
“Six years isn’t that long.”
“It is when you’re only twenty-two.” Triton poked his tongue at the inside of his cheek, fighting back a smile.
Diesel snorted. “Smart aleck.”
Triton giggled.
“So, any siblings?” Diesel thankfully guided the subject away from his parents.
“Nope. Just me.” He gave a sad smile.
Diesel nodded and studied him. “You have Maddox.”
“Yep, my only cousin. His mom and my mom were sisters. They aren’t anything alike. Except they both married bad men.”
“Sounds like it.”
The silence grew, but it was comfortable. Triton glanced around the room. His gaze landed on the bookcase that filled one wall of the living room. Every kind of book he could imagine, ranging from how-to books to westerns, mysteries, and romance, filled the shelves.
Diesel waved to the books. “Take your pick if you like to read.”
Triton smiled and stood. He wandered over, running his fingers along the book spines, and selected a murder mystery.
“Diesel, All my love, Shawn,” he read aloud from the dedication page and glanced up at Diesel.
The man stared at him for a long moment.
“Ex-boyfriend.”
“He lived here?”
“Mhmm. For a year.”
“What happened?”
“He took off.”
“Oh, Diesel, I’m so sorry,” he finally managed.
“Don’t be, it was for the best.”
“Did he leave with another Dom?” he blurted. He couldn’t picture anyone leaving Diesel.
“No, he ran off with my stepsister.”
Surprise held him mute for a moment. So, that was the step sibling Diesel didn’t talk about. Oh my god, what a horrible thing to have happen.
Diesel didn’t ask him why he’d asked about a Dom. In fact, the man turned his attention to a book from his side table and didn’t look back up.
His disappointment grew. He wanted to talk about Doms and subs with Diesel, and more importantly, the kind of Dom that Diesel was. What drew the older man to the scene? He had so many questions, but he was certain Diesel didn’t want to talk about it, or at least, not with him.
Diesel buried his face in his book. Triton’s heart hurt for the man. Such a loving man. He could see it in the way the gruff soldier cared for his friends, pets, and plants. He could see it in the tender way the man cared for him. Triton could feel it.
Times like this, he imagined he was worthy of a man like Diesel. He’d never cheat if Diesel were his, ever.
He wanted to belong to him, especially when Diesel looked at him with such intense focus. The look made his toes curl and his prick harden. He wanted nothing more than to climb in Diesel’s lap again and kiss him. He didn’t want the whole BDSM part, but he wanted to obey Diesel. He wanted to explore a relationship with Diesel to learn their likes and dislikes and discover what made him happy. If they wanted the same things, that would be a bonus. And if you don’t want the same things? He’d compromise. Wasn’t that what relationships were about? But did Diesel want that or even him?
Or was he to continue being just a military buddy’s young cousin who got thrust on him because he’d done something stupid like show up without an invitation to the guy’s house? He wanted to ask if Diesel found him attractive, but instead, he laid the book aside and wandered over to feed the goldfish in the tank. They gathered at the top, sucking down small bits of food.
Returning to the couch, he lifted the book, sank onto the cushions, and immersed himself in the story.
Several hours later, a knock sounded on the door, making him jump.
Diesel lifted the weapon that was sitting on the end table and put a finger to his lips.
Triton froze, his eyes going wide as he watched Diesel rise and head toward the door. Had they found him? Was it Clay or Auto on the other side of the door? He tried to stay still, but every muscle in his body tensed as he anticipated making a mad dash down the hallway and out the back door.
Diesel shifted the curtains, looking out the window before tucking the weapon away and opening the door.
“Memphis.”
“Diesel.”
“What’s up?” Diesel gestured for Memphis to come inside.
“We found Triton’s luggage.” The sheriff entered, pulling his rollaway behind him.
“Thank you so much!” He jumped up and hurried to the luggage and pulled it across the floor.
“You’re welcome. It had been knocked sideways near the bus station and nobody noticed it tucked into the bushes until this morning. We can’t find your backpack though,” Memphis said with regret.
“It’s okay. I appreciate this.” He smiled and his hands shook. With sweaty palms, he carefully opened it, keeping the flap toward the men, blocking what was inside. He shifted through his clothing and things until his fingers found the hard object with a sigh of relief.
He gave them both a big smile. “Everything is here!” He sighed happily and zipped the luggage closed. “I’ll go unpack it.”
Jumping to his feet, he drug the bag into his room with Molly trailing along.
Once inside, he shut the door and unpacked his things. They were damp and smelled, so he set them aside into a pile for washing and tucked the nine millimeter handgun beneath his mattress along with the bullets and smoothed down the bed skirt and then the comforter. Molly sniffed at the spot and he shooed her away.
“Come on, girl.”
He gathered up the laundry and stepped back out the door before heading to the washer. Sorting the clothes, he started things that would take the longest to dry first and left things he’d hang dry for later.
“Everything there?”
He whirled at the sound of Diesel’s deep voice, trying to stay as casual as he could. Diesel had an uncanny ability of reading him.
“Yep.” He smiled and did a little jig.
“Okay then.”
“Where’s Memphis?”
“He had to leave, he’s on duty.”
His heart pounded. Had Memphis searched his luggage? Did Diesel know? He swallowed hard.
“Want me to make dinner?” he asked.
Diesel studied him for so long, his palms grew sweaty.
“Please.”
Diesel
Come turn off the alarm.
Making his way to the door, Diesel flipped off the alarm and yanked the door open.
“Hey, big brother.”
Zane jogged up the steps, drawing him into a tight hug. The “big” comment was said to tease him for being older. His little brother was equally as big as him. He hugged Zane back for several moments.