Aftermath (6 page)

When there was a gun aimed at his head, Cam gritted his teeth and walked over to the table and slumped down in one of the chairs. The room was hot, even hotter than the basement, and he cursed the fucking coveralls he was in. The top had been pushed down when he'd gotten here initially, and the arms of the durable fabric were now tied around his waist, leaving only a smudgy white T-shirt on his upper body, but his legs? Fucking hell, it was like no air reached him under the uniform.

"Okay, let's talk about how you've contributed to ruining my life," Psycho said, coming up behind Cam. And without another word, he pistol-whipped Cam in the back of his head.

Austin knew better than to turn off the lights in the living room; Cam had made it perfectly clear that the lights were important. But he did get up to quickly adjust the spotlights overhead, dimming the brightness so it was less likely he would get a headache from them. Then he returned to the bed and listened as Cam told him how the kidnapper had beaten him senseless.

In the meantime, Austin did whatever he could to make Cam comfortable. By now, they were both on the bed, completely sprawled out along the length of the queen-sized mattress, and Cam was using Austin's arm as a pillow.

"He k-kept shouting how I had ruined his l-life," Cam muttered with his eyes closed. "I tried to resist, but I couldn’t f-fucking move."

Austin squeezed his eyes shut, remembering how he'd waited for Cam to be returned to their cell.

*

"Come on." Austin's knee bounced; his eyes were fixed on the door, and he was unconsciously brushing his thumb over his wedding band. "Come on, Cam."

It had to have been hours later Austin heard the door to the basement open again. What followed was the sound of someone falling down the stairs, which alarmed him. Clenching his fists behind his back, he flinched when the metal of the cuffs dug into his wrists, but he was too furious to give a rat's ass. All he wanted was one round with that madman, and then they'd see who was boss.

The door to their cage soon opened, and Austin found himself staring at Cam's lifeless body on the floor just outside the cell. If it wasn’t for the shallow, rapid breaths he heard, he'd think Cam was dead.

Austin's spine turned to ice.

"Take him," Mr. Whoever-the-hell spat out, pointing his gun at Austin. In his free hand, there was what looked like a medical kit. "Take him and clean him up. I have no further use for him. Yet."

"A bit hard to help him if I can't use my hands," Austin bit out, sneering.

"Beat him!" someone down the hall screamed. Victor. "Beat him and take his keys!"

Austin barely refrained from rolling his eyes. As desperate as he was for an escape, he wasn’t stupid. There was no way he could defeat a man while cuffed behind his back, not to mention the madman had a gun.

Their kidnapper only chuckled. "I suggest you get creative, then."

There was no finesse or gentleness about it. Austin was forced to drag Cam back into the cell by his feet, and he nearly dislocated his shoulder in the process. It took time, and he couldn’t imagine the pain Cam was in.

The lamp in the ceiling above their cell didn’t provide much light, but Austin could still make out darkening bruises, bloody cuts, and swelling on Cam's battered body.

The door was closed behind them, and the hatch slid open next. "Uncuff yourself then him." The madman tossed the two keys on the floor, and Austin squatted down to pick them up. "Put the cuffs on again in front of you. Evan can be free of his while he sleeps the day off."

Austin dropped his cuffs on the cot next to him, then stood up and glared at the man on the outside. "Why should I put them on again?"

"I'd think Evan would want sustenance soon. Wouldn’t you?"

"Fuck," Cam rasped in a whisper from the floor, "f-fuck you."

"Very well." The psychotic creep nodded. "No food or water for either of you until you're both cuffed." That said, he threw in the medical kit, shut the hatch, and left the basement.

*

Austin released a breath and let his eyes travel down Cam's body. The scars and the tattoos made him unique. The muscles that were slowly rebuilding made him look strong. Good food made him look healthier. But he was still vulnerable, no matter how Cam hated to admit that.

Austin was unable to deny that he actually found Cam beautiful.

Perfect with all his imperfections.

As Cam sleepily mumbled about "Psycho" throwing him around in that torture room, he turned onto his side, his front facing Austin, and Austin brushed his fingers over Cam's right wrist that was now wedged between them.

He hoped the scars from the handcuffs wouldn’t be too deep, but he had a feeling that was a pipe dream. Austin was getting rid of his bandages the day after tomorrow, but Cam had another few days to go.

In captivity, they had patched each other up as best they could. They'd been each other's nurse, doctor, shoulder to cry on, and punching bag. Because it'd be a lie to say Austin and Cam got along from the beginning. They still butted heads, especially with Austin's newfound anger and Cam's short fuse, but they made it work somehow.

Austin hoped they'd be able to patch up each other's emotional wounds, too, even if it was going to take years.

*

Austin sat down next to him on the cot, worried as hell that Cam would have a full-blown panic attack. Slowly, he pulled off Cam's shirt to inspect the damage.
Jesus Christ
. Oh, there was damage, all right. There were also countless tattoos.

"Lie down," he murmured, gently pushing Cam back. The younger man obeyed silently, his breathing still irregular, and his eyes wide open. "Can you tell me where it hurts the most?"

He rummaged through the medical kit, locating some antiseptic cream and a couple sterile pads.

When Cam failed to answer and began hyperventilating, Austin scooted closer and automatically cupped the other man's cheek, but the gesture felt too intimate. It was something he'd do to comfort his wife or baby girl, not a grown man.

As he moved his hand to Cam's shoulder instead, he started to speak quietly, words of no importance, but hopefully they'd be enough to distract Cam from whatever hell he was suffering internally.

At the same time, he cautiously ran the washcloth over Cam's wounds. Luckily, the water in their bucket was still relatively clean, and Austin wanted to get rid of as much blood as possible before starting with the pads and the cream.

He'd already scooped out two tin cups of water for later use; he figured Cam would need to drink soon. They both would, trapped in this humid hell, but Austin could probably go without for longer than Cam could.

He continued to speak about trivial things as he cleaned Cam's upper body. He absently spoke about his daughter when he noticed the violent wince Cam gave away the second Austin came in contact with his ribs, and he murmured a low curse. Was anything broken? Because they were shit out of luck in that case. There was nothing Austin could do if there was a fracture. Antiseptic cream, pads, bandages, and a small suture kit would only help with superficial wounds.

Truth be told, Austin didn’t know for whose benefit he kept talking. Maybe it was for himself—to keep memories and his own identity alive and real—and perhaps it was to give Cam something else to focus on. Regardless, when he registered a slight change in Cam's posture and his breathing, the reason didn’t matter. Cam was starting to relax;
that
was important.

By the time Austin had done his best to wipe away blood and sweat, the water in the bucket was tinted dark pink in the florescent light from above them.

"Who the fuck," Cam coughed, "names their d-daughter Riley?"

So, that’s what he'd found to focus on
, Austin thought wryly. "Glad to hear you're still the polite ol' you," he drawled with a shake of his head. "And
I
named my baby girl."

After his little brother who had died of leukemia as a child.

"I didn’t say it was ugly, did I?" Cam got defensive. "Just, you know…" He shrugged, which hurt. "It's a boy's name."

"I like you better when you're hyperventilating and can't talk," Austin snapped. "What the hell is wrong with you, anyway?" He swiped a sterile pad with antiseptic cream over Cam's jaw, and it ticked with tension. "Do you have a breathing problem or something? Oh, and
what
is
up
with the damn finger tapping?" He shook his head again, annoyed, and tried to refocus on cleaning the cuts. He also made a mental note to apply some antiseptic to their wrists. Might as well enjoy their uncuffed freedom while it lasted.

"None of your fuckin' business," Cam gritted out.

*

It had become Austin's business soon enough. Cam had told him, and because Austin hated being helpless, he now researched Cam's disorders in his spare time, which he had plenty of.

"It's too late for you to drive home now," Cam said tiredly, not opening his eyes. "You got plans tomorrow?"

Austin stifled a yawn and fished out his phone to set the alarm. If he was home before Jade left for work, there shouldn’t be any problems. "Not really. I have Riley, and when Jade gets home from work, I have an appointment with Angelo." He was their physical therapist and had his own practice near the hospital.

"What does your wife do?"

Austin reached behind him to put his phone and glasses on the coffee table. "She's a medical social worker. She assesses whether or not a patient needs help after leaving the hospital." He rolled over to face Cam again and automatically draped an arm around his middle. "God, I'm exhausted." While he snatched a pillow for them to use, Cam blindly searched for something behind him and found a soft blanket to pull over them. "This is a whole lot better than the floor."

"What do you mean—oh. Right."

Yeah, the last time they'd slept this close together, it hadn't been nearly as comfortable.

"Don’t fucking remind me," Cam muttered and scooted closer so their foreheads touched on the pillow. "Good night."

Cam fell asleep first, and Austin found himself gazing at the man he was beginning to see in a new light. Or maybe it wasn’t very new at all. The way they often hovered near each other couldn’t possibly be because of simple friendship. You
wanted
to be with a friend, but that didn’t explain Austin's
need
for always taking that extra step to be within reach. One of them always made that little move that brought them closer.

*

When Austin roused a couple hours later, his alarm hadn't gone off yet. He was drowsy, only half-awake, and he wondered idly why he'd woken.

It wasn’t Bourbon, because that little thing was sleeping in a corner on what looked like a couch cushion. But Austin got his answer as soon as he felt Cam in front of him. Having shifted during the night, he was now spooning Cam, and Austin bit back a groan when he felt his morning wood pressing against Cam's ass.

Cam was deeply asleep, but he wasn’t still. Austin guessed he'd been woken up by Cam pushing his body more firmly to his, and now Austin was beyond conflicted. At the same time, he was half-asleep. Not a good mix…depending on how you looked at it.

Asleep enough to remain where he was. Asleep enough to take physical pleasure from the position they were in.

Awake enough to wonder if it was just comfort, or if he really was attracted. Awake enough to know he shouldn’t be here.

Asleep enough to not give a shit.

He let sleep get him again, but an ounce of consciousness lingered. Wading through blurry dreams and the knowledge of having Cam's body against him, he shifted forward just an inch or so as he slid his hand up Cam's chest. There was a slight dusting of dark chest hair, lighter than Austin's. What drew him in the most was the faint scent of detergent and Cam's aftershave. It was warm, but comfortably so, and the last thing he wanted to do was leave.

*

Cam began to wake up when he sensed Austin. He froze for a split second, ready to pounce, but since he'd already acknowledged it was Austin, someone he trusted with his life, it was easy to relax again.

He wasn’t completely relaxed, though. His cock had noticed how Austin's hard body was pressing against Cam's back, and he cursed under his breath, wishing he could blame this on the man behind him. But considering how Cam was pressing back just as much, he couldn’t.

Fucking hell. This wasn’t the time for this shit. He was thirty-four years old; did he really need to remind himself not to react like a teenager? Austin was not only married, but he was straight. These days, he was also Cam's closest friend.

"Christ, Austin," Cam bitched in a voice thick with sleep. "If you don’t wake up and join the living, I'm gonna break one of my rules." He never brought a conquest home. His house was a sanctuary, not a place for hookups and reminders of drunken mistakes. "And you won't like it. Back off." He didn’t bottom for just anybody.

"What…" Austin mumbled, not yet awake.

Irritated and turned on, Cam pushed back against Austin's impressive morning wood and grumbled, "
That
. Get it away from me."

He would've moved away himself if it wasn’t for the fact that he was already crammed up against the waist-high wall that was used as a partition between the seating area and the patio door. Austin Huntley was evidently a bed-hog.

Austin hummed sleepily and gave a slow thrust of his hips, the thin layers of cotton between them betraying just how hard he was against Cam's ass.

"Jesus Christ," Cam murmured, a bit out of breath. Arousal flared up, but he needed to get over that quickly. Which wasn’t easy when he felt warm lips pressing a kiss to his neck. "Wake the fuck up, man."