Authors: Tempeste O'Riley
She beamed at him, hugged them both, and wished them a good rest of their night. She waved to them as they left her outside their father’s hospital room door.
“S
IMON
,” C
HASE
grumbled.
“Don’t you dare ‘Simon’ me. We’ve barely seen you lately, and you’ve kept that sexy beast of yours practically hidden. I know I wasn’t up for dealing with him the last time I was over, when he came to get you, but you’re our friend.” Simon put his hands on his hips as he continued fussing. “And if he’s this damn important to you suddenly, then we need to get to know him better.”
Chase knew Si was right, he just hated that his friends knew only the bad stuff about Rhys, not how sweet or protective or loyal the man was. They didn’t need to know how delicious or ravenous, though, and he knew that was the kind of gossip Si most loved. “I already have to take him to meet Mom, I suppose I can arrange something for you and the guys too. I mean, you’ve already met him.”
“Yeah, when he hurt you.” Si rolled his eyes and sighed. “Now that things are working out so you two are a couple, it’s different.”
“All right. How about dinner and drinks? Eat, visit, get to know each other…. But no being mean to him, Si.” When Simon grinned, Chase added, “I mean it, Simon. I won’t have you picking on him, making him feel like an outsider. I—” He stumbled to a halt as what he’d almost said reverberated through his mind and heart.
“You what, babe?”
“I-I think I love him,” Chase whispered. His knees threatened to give out on him as he grabbed the kitchen counter in Simon’s apartment.
“Oh, dear,” Simon murmured, grabbing a stool and guiding Chase onto it. “Like love with the dick or love with the heart?”
“I don’t play at relationships, and you know it, Si,” Chase snapped, irritated that his friend was on one of his ‘love isn’t real’ kicks lately. He understood, really. Being dumped like he had had to hurt, but Rhys wasn’t like that.
“I know,” Si soothed. “I didn’t mean it that way, no matter what I sounded like. I’m just surprised is all. You haven’t told him yet, have you?”
Chase shook his head. “Not really. He knows I care about him and I trust him, but no, I haven’t said the words.”
“Do you think he feels the same?”
He thought about that for a minute, concluding that yes, Rhys had to love him. “I think so. You haven’t seen how he is around me or how he’s been with all the murder insanity. I mean, he picked me up, carried me to the car, and even buckled me in when I fell and made this thing worse,” Chase explained, brandishing his brightly colored cast. “He tried to kill that ass of a cop the other day. And how he is when we do nothing….”
“Yeah, even with everything bad lately, you’ve smiled more since you two finally started seeing each other than you have in years. So, what ya going ta do about it?” Simon asked, right brow arched so high Chase wanted to smack him.
“Keep working on us, I guess. I mean, we’re practically living together as it is. Well, until all this serial stuff is done.”
“Do you want to move back to your nice but empty apartment or stay in that big loft of his you told me about?”
“I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do. Don’t BS me. Where do you want to be?”
“It doesn’t matter. We aren’t to that point yet, and I’ve never lived with a boyfriend. Stayed over, sure, but not lived with.”
Simon draped his arm about Chase’s shoulder. “You tell me not to worry how fast the guys in the stories I write fall in love or move to the happily ever after stage, that love has its own timetable. Why would you think your heart had one? Or that his does, for that matter? If he is the one for you, then don’t let my moping influence you. Make him your partner instead of just your boyfriend.”
Chase thought for a minute and then smiled. He looked at his friend, wishing Si could feel the happiness Rhys gave him. “Thanks, hun.”
“I didn’t do anything. Now, go home and get your man.”
He hugged Simon tight, hoping Si could find the same happiness he had with Rhys. “I think I’ll stop and get lunch and then go back to Rhys’s. I think it’s time we had a talk.” Chase laughed when he thought about how Rhys would hate being told that.
On his way over, he decided to stop and eat at Jake’s Deli. He hadn’t been there in a while, and with all the weirdness lately, he wanted something familiar. He sent Rhys a text, letting him know he would be back in a bit and asking if he wanted to come over to his place. He’d barely been home in days, and he was tired of the limited supply of clothes and body products he had at Rhys’s.
He got through the line quickly and sat at one of the small tables, intending to dig into his tuna on wheat-berry when a shadow fell over his food. He was startled to see Jonathan again.
“Mind if I sit?” The tone didn’t match the scowl on Jonathan’s face, but he figured since they were in public, he was relatively safe. He nodded.
“Here,” Jonathan said, reaching for his empty cup. “I’ll get your drink, then we can talk.”
“All right,” he agreed, confused at the man’s actions, but then Jonathan had stopped making sense to him when they were still teens. He didn’t figure he had any chance of figuring him out now.
H
E
WAS
cold, and God, did his head hurt!
What the hell?
Chase tried to roll over but found he couldn’t move. Fighting down the terror threatening, he cracked open his eyes to find it was pitch-dark, wherever he was.
Chase took a moment to assess his body and his lack of mobility, realizing his hands and feet were bound, but with no lights, he wasn’t certain with what. He was gagged, and that, more than the dark or the binding, had him freaking out in seconds. He couldn’t seem to get enough air, no matter how hard he tried, nor could he calm down.
Moments later, the world faded until he heard only his own panicked breathing. Then he heard nothing.
C
HASE
CAME
to again, a sharp undulating pain blossoming through his side over and over. He struggled to get out of the way of whatever was attacking him, but he was still unable to move. He cried out, begging around the gag in his mouth for whoever was there to stop please.
“Sick, filth!” a voice screamed above him. “Have to exorcise you! Remove your stain from my life so I can be clean again,” the voice continued.
Unable to move away from the blows, Chase screamed as the pain increased in his side, ribs, and head, until the world went blank, and even the pain could no longer reach him.
W
HEN
C
HASE
fought his way back to consciousness, he regretted having done so immediately. He was still on his side, bound as before, but the gag was rancid. It was painfully obvious to him he’d lost at least part of his lunch during the attack earlier, and he was thankful he hadn’t had much before this insanity began. Sadly, he was still in complete darkness, so he had no clue how long he’d been there. Hours, days—time had no meaning right then.
He tried to shift so his casted wrist wasn’t pinned under him, but the only movement he managed caused the pain to spike sharply and the world to spin until inner darkness swallowed him again.
R
HYS
PACED
inside Chase’s apartment, cell clutched in his fist, and tried not to panic. When he’d arrived that evening, he had expected Chase to be there. Chase’s bike was there, but his car was missing, and he hadn’t answered the door. He also hadn’t answered his phone any of the dozen times Rhys had called. And while he’d been able to convince the super to let him into Chase’s apartment, there was no sign he had been there in days.
He froze at the loud ringing. He almost dropped the phone in his haste to answer the call. “Chase?”
“No, Rhys. I did find his car, though,” Mark said.
“What? Where?” Where the hell was he!
“At one of the little delis he likes to hit for lunch, but that’s the only thing that’s normal here. The manager said he argued with some big guy, and they left together before Chase finished his food.”
“Big guy? So he left with a friend?” Please be a friend. “Something wrong with his car?”
“The manager said the guy with Chase practically had to carry him out.”
“But Chase was….”
“Rhys,” Mark countered. “I’ve never known you to be blind to reality, man.”
He nodded as fear gripped him, sealing his breath. “We need to call his friends.”
Twenty minutes later, Mark, Grayson, and Dal stood in Chase’s living room.
“What do we know, Rhys?” Dal asked.
“Not much, unfortunately. They refused to let Mark see the security footage, and no one will let me go over there.”
“That’s because you getting arrested for attempted murder won’t help find Chase, Rhys,” Grayson countered.
“Whatever. We need to see if they got who this guy was on the tape or maybe even footage from the parking area. I want Chase back, now!”
“Focus, Rhys,” Mark interrupted Rhys’s fit. “Dal can try to find a way to get us those tapes. Right, Dal?”
Dal stopped pacing and looked at Mark. “He’s an adult, Mark. Until he’s been officially missing for twenty-four hours….”
“Fuck that,” Rhys roared. “You know something’s wrong! We can’t wait that long. He could be—” He broke off, unable to allow his thoughts to go there. “It has to be now!”
“I know he….” Dal faced Rhys and sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. “You’re right. Of course. I’ll see what I can do, but when I get fired for this, you’re going to have a new business partner,” he grumbled.
Rhys knew Dal hated going against protocol, but Chase’s life was worth more to him than his brother’s damn job. He knew Dal would expect the same from him. “Good. Now, did anyone get hold of his mom…?”
The three men discussed strategy while Dal took off to see what he could manage to get from the deli. Less than an hour later, they knew who had Chase and a rough idea of where Chase most likely was, thanks to Grayson’s computer skills. Rhys made a mental note never to tease the man for his geek tendencies again.
C
HASE
STARTLED
awake when he heard shouting. The noise was far away and no one was kicking or hitting him. It took a little while to clear his head enough to make out the sounds, but when he did, they made no sense to him. It seemed as if someone had the TV turned way up and a cop show was on. There was screaming about putting hands up and weapons down. There was also shouting about having to find someone, but he couldn’t focus enough to keep up with all the yelling.
He hurt so bad he shook, and his head felt as if it were two sizes too small for his skull. After a few more moments, he realized it wasn’t a show, it was people outside the area he was trapped in. In desperation, he started screaming around the gag still in his mouth. His voice was muffled, but he still gave it his all, hoping it would be enough to bring someone to him.
He froze midyell when he heard loud popping sounds nearby. He assumed it was a gun. The thought made him silent, though. What if it wasn’t someone come to rescue him? What if the crazy person he was being held by shot whoever had just broken in and then shot him?
Shaking so hard he could barely drag in air, Chase decided to stay quiet, hoping whoever was outside were the good guys or the cops and not worse than his current warden.
The silence after the second set of shots was deafening and only served to make him panic worse. When he heard someone screaming again, he was confused. It sounded like Rhys yelling at Dal. That couldn’t be right. Why would Rhys be mad at Dal, and how would either of them know where to find him? He didn’t even know where he was.
Chase guessed he must have passed out again, because when he came to, the lights were on and painfully bright after all the darkness. There were people all around him, talking and shouting. “Hold him still so I can get this crap off him,” a gruff voice ordered. It took a moment before he realized it was Mark speaking.
“I’m trying! He won’t hold still, and he’s a lot stronger than he looks.” That was Grayson.
“Chase, man, hold still,” Mark said. “I don’t want to hurt you worse than you already are. Okay?”
He calmed, hoping this was real and not that his mind had snapped. Someone moved him onto his back carefully. It hurt like hell, but at least no one hit him again.
“Here,” a different voice said, and the gag was removed. The sudden object over his face that followed had him flailing. He didn’t want anything binding him again.
“Chase,” Mark yelled. “It’s just oxygen. The paramedic is a nice guy and is trying to help you. Understand?”
Paramedic? Help? Those at least made sense. He stilled again, desperate to hold on long enough to find Rhys. They moved him onto a board and then onto something that rolled, one of those gurneys, he assumed.
“Rhys?” he finally managed to ask, sounding slurred enough he worried they might not understand him. He tried again anyway. “Where’s Rhys?”