Texas #4_Texas Christmas (15 page)

“Okay.”

“Okay? You’re fine with that?”

“Needs to be done.” He had every reason to believe he knew exactly what Marcus was implying. Yes, he hadn’t been treated right when he’d finally reported the previous incidents, but this was different. Marcus witnessed the attack, there was a knife, and the man had near as spilled his guts when it happened anyway. Now was the time he took a stand.

“You really need to eat with the meds, you hungry?”

Liam opened his mouth to say no but his stomach chose that moment to vocally make him out to be a liar.

“Yeah. I could eat.”

Marcus rolled off the bed. He was in soft running pants and a washed-out UT sweatshirt, and Liam could feel he was similarly dressed. He wished he could recall what had happened last night, but getting out of hospital and over to Marcus’s place was a blur of pain. He did remember changing, no, Marcus changing him, then nothing. Likely he fell straight asleep.

“Stay here,” Marcus instructed, then padded out of the room with a sketched wave. Liam didn’t know why Marcus bothered to say that, he definitely wasn’t moving from this spot—until his bladder decided he really needed to get up and out of bed.

He tried sitting up, then decided moving on his side and rolling up was a better option. Finally he had his feet flat on the thick carpet, and with a grunt he pushed himself to stand. The small half-bath attached to the room was close enough that he only needed to take maybe six steps, and by the time he made it to the bathroom he felt his muscles loosen a little. Either that was freaking fast meds or walking was going to help him get better.

He emptied his bladder and turned to the sink to wash his hands. He finished that before he even dared to look in the mirror. Wincing, he tilted his head. Shit. That was some marked skin. Peering closer he swore he could make out finger marks on his chin and neck. Experimentally he pushed his tongue against the splits inside his lips. Yuri had pressed so hard that Liam’s teeth had made an impressive range of cuts. Lifting his top, he got his first look at the bruising extending from stomach to groin, but he couldn’t get into the right position to get an eyeful of his chest, not without taking his top off, and there was no way his arms were going to let him do that.

“Okay?” Marcus asked from the door.

“Needed the bathroom,” Liam explained unnecessarily. Marcus moved into the small space and reached into the cabinet.

“New toothbrush if you want it after breakfast.”

Liam realized his breath would probably strip paint from metal. “Thank you.”

“You want to go back to bed?”

“I might not be able to get up again. Walking helps.”

“Bacon, eggs, pancakes in the kitchen, but my sister is out there. You okay with that?”

“Marcie,” Liam said in summary. “She knows…”
About the attack… That her brother is gay… That I’m an idiot who lets himself get hurt all the time.

“We have a psychic link,” Marcus said in a conspiratorial fashion. “It’s a twin thing. She sees everything I do.” He waggled his eyebrows, and Liam almost fell for the teasing.

“Ha freaking ha,” he said. “I’ll come out as long as I don’t scare her and she doesn’t mind me eating all the bacon.”

Marcus smiled and backed out of the small bathroom. “You warm enough?”

“Yeah.”

“This way, then.”

Liam followed Marcus through the door of his bedroom that led to a hallway off which were four more doors. “Marcie is opposite. Main bathroom here, down the stairs behind that door takes you to the center, and this one is the kitchen.” Marcus pushed open the door and the scent of bacon wafted toward Liam. His stomach rumbled again, and he was so focused on the bacon that he didn’t see Marcie at first. When he did, he had a real double take moment. She looked an awful lot like her brother but feminine and with long hair. The same white-blonde hair and brown eyes and matching smiles had Liam returning the smile immediately.

“Hi,” she said. “Saved you a seat,” she added and indicated the seat opposite her.

Liam remembered his manners and offered a
thank you
as he slid successfully onto the stool while attempting not to wince as his knees knocked the counter support.

Marcus busied himself placing a plate of bacon and eggs in front of Liam, along with pancakes separately and syrup.

Enthusiastically Liam forked some eggs in his mouth, and that went okay. It was only when he attempted to swallow crisp bacon that he felt the first pain. His throat constricted and he coughed. Marcus was instantly at his side offering orange juice. He looked up to see a look of concern on Marcie’s face as well and he gestured to his throat.

“Hurts,” he explained between splutters. When he settled down, he eyed what remained of the bacon on his plate with trepidation. Pancakes would probably be a better option. He hesitated as he considered what next and was startled when Marcus drew one of his hands into a careful hold. Liam looked up at Marcus and the mix of emotions in his brown eyes. There was stubble on his face, evidencing the fact Marcus hadn’t managed to shave, which immediately reminded Liam of the night they’d spent under the tent. He looked tired, worried, and Liam instantly experienced guilt.

“Sorry,” he apologized, although what for he wasn’t entirely sure.

Marcus traced Liam’s cheek with his other finger and finally cradled his face before sliding the fingers down to trace the marks on his throat. Liam had never seen an expression like it before. Utter and total intense concentration. His eyes never left Liam’s.

“Water,” Marcie interrupted. The moment snapped, and Marcus appeared to come back to himself before stepping back to the coffee machine. “And I’m out of here, guys. Really nice to meet you, Liam.”

“You too,” Liam said immediately.

“Marcus, can I borrow you for a moment to talk about the results on the
Greuers
.”

“Back in a minute.” Marcus excused himself and followed Marcie around the corner to the main door down to the center. Something in the way Marcie had spoken had Liam thinking they were talking about him. Call it self-preservation or an inquisitive nature, but he followed them and stopped just inside the kitchen door. He could hear the exchange.

“…hurt him so bad?” Marcie was asking a question.

“He will. He was scared before, but maybe now with me in his corner, he can tell someone about what happened.”

“You really think that?”

“I believe he will.”

“I’ve never seen you look at anyone like you looked at him, Marcus. Your heart is right out there.”

“I’m falling in love with him.”

Liam froze at the words. Love. That was serious shit. He wasn’t ready for that.

“Oh, Marcus, that’s wonderful. Have you told him?”

“He’s so young.”

Liam knocked his head against the wall. There it was again. He was a kid, young, inexperienced. Marcus may well be falling in love with him, but he obviously didn’t feel he should be. That didn’t surprise Liam.

“Eight years is nothing,” Marcie said with laughter in her voice. “You’re not that old. Anyway, I’m away, I canceled your two o’clock, other than that, your day was pretty free anyway.”

“Thank you, we’ll catch up later.”

Liam moved away from where he stood and leaned against the breakfast bar. When Marcus came around the corner, he was grinning, and Liam had nowhere to go when Marcus stalked over and gave him a noisy smacking kiss on the lips.

“Yum,” he said as he stood back. “Bacon.”

The rest of breakfast passed slowly for Liam. He struggled with everything except eggs—even the pancake was choking him. When he’d finished he sat and watched Marcus tidy up the kitchen. He wanted to help, but he was under strict orders from Marcus not to move a muscle, and the strong meds were making everything ever so slightly blurry. Watching Marcus gave Liam plenty of time to think, albeit in a random, unconnected drugged haze.

Eight years was nothing in a real relationship. Problem was, he was only twenty and that made the almost nine years Marcus had on him appear to be huge. He had this sudden need to be in his place, on his own, with the doors shut against the world, so that he could get some sleep. His worries didn’t follow him in his sleep.

He was falling for Marcus, just a day at a time, a minute here and there filled with promise, and abruptly he was ready to take a chance.

But eight years?

“I’m twenty-one in the middle of December.”

“You can buy the beers, then,” Marcus replied offhandedly. He had his head in the fridge rearranging eggs and whatever people did in their fridges for five minutes at a time. Liam suspected Marcus was hiding, although he couldn’t be certain.

“When is your birthday?”

Marcus shut the fridge door. “September 14th.”

Liam did some quick calculations. “So you’re only just twenty-nine. So for like nine months we’d be only eight years apart in age.”

Liam hesitated when Marcus frowned. Was he not making sense? Why the hell did these damn pills make him feel like he was drunk? He stumbled a little and held out a hand until it made contact with a hard surface.

“You probably should go lie down.” Marcus was being sensible.

“Don’t wanna lay—lie down. Hurts to lie down,” Liam said very deliberately. “I heard you. Didn’t mean to, or yeah, I did mean to. I hid there.” He waved a hand at the wall where he’d been standing. “Heard you say I was too young.” He extended the word too until it slid effortlessly into the word young.

Marcus spoke and Liam was startled when it was right in front of his face. His hand slipped on the surface, and Marcus steadied him. He was smiling and the smile reached his eyes.

“You
are
young,” he started. At least he didn’t call Liam on the hiding thing, perhaps that would come later when Liam was less…inebriated. “You’re twenty, I’m nearly thirty,” he added.

“You’re rounding up,” Liam accused Marcus. He leaned into Marcus’s hold, which despite Marcus being short was very firm and steady. “And I am way taller, which has to count for something.”

“Look at me,” Marcus ordered. Liam tried but he couldn’t focus in all this fuzziness. He wasn’t taking those pills again; he hated how they made him feel. “Are you okay?”

“Jus’, I
am
taller.”

Marcus chuckled.
The fucker
. Liam allowed himself to be led to the bedroom and even went pliant enough to be moved into position for sleep. At the last minute he grabbed Marcus and pulled him onto the bed as well. Somehow he managed not to have the man land directly on him but he still hurt. Gripping tight of anything he could in the way of shirt and pants, he held firm.

“Stay with me,” he demanded.

Marcus wriggled a little, then rolled onto his side so he was facing Liam.

“I’m staying. But there’s one thing you should know.”

“What?”

“When we lie down, height isn’t an issue.”

* * * * *

Marcus waited until Liam fell asleep, which took about two minutes. Poor guy had been hit hard by whatever pills he’d been given. It was kind of cute really. Age wasn’t really an issue for Marcus, well, not from his point of view anyway. He was more than happy to have Liam in his life; he just didn’t think it was fair at the end of the day. He was looking for something a little more settled than hand jobs in a dark corner or affairs that lasted two days of the weekend, then ended on a Monday. Liam didn’t need some wanting-to-settle-down guy lusting all over him when he had the whole world ahead of him.

Twenty was nothing in years. When he was healed, and maybe after he’d confronted what happened to him at the Bar Five, then they could catch up again and Marcus would tell Liam how he really felt. Because somehow, since the night he’d climbed out of the car and followed Liam down the road to the D, he’d fallen further into something bigger than lust. Love was the only answer. He’d never had that before.

It scared him.

He climbed out of the bed and sat at the small desk in the corner of his room. Firing up his laptop, he dealt with emails and updated pages on the Walker Clinic website, including posting the reference that Riley had written. Every person who went through the agency left feedback and it was all anonymous, but Riley had actually handed him this a few weeks back.

His stomach told him it was lunchtime long before he realized he’d been working—and therefore Liam had been sleeping—for four hours. Marcus made sandwiches, ate them, had coffee, stared some more at Liam, and was halfway through setting up an agency Facebook when Liam woke up.

Marcus heard him curse. “What the fuck was in those pills,” he added. Then Marcus heard Liam groan and assumed that he had recalled some of what he’d said before. “Fuck,” he cursed again.

“You want something to eat?” Marcus asked carefully.

Liam turned his head to face Marcus. “I think I need to go home.” He rolled onto his side and hissed before pushing himself upright. Marcus moved to assist, and between them Liam finally stood upright. Marcus handed him his boots and the slipper-type things he’d taken from the hospital. Silently Liam poked his feet in the slippers and said nothing all the way to Marcus’s car. Nor did he say much on the road to the D, and Marcus let him keep his silence. He imagined Liam was half embarrassed and half coming to the realization of what he’d overheard Marcus say. Finally they pulled up outside the D, and Marcus cut the engine.

“You want a hand inside?”

“No,” Liam said firmly. He made to open the door then stopped. “I owe you a thank you. There was no way I could have made it back to the D last night. Thank you for the bed and the eggs.”

“You don’t have to thank me. I enjoyed seeing you in my bed.”

Liam nodded imperceptibly. Then he reached out and cupped Marcus’s cheek. “Thank you. Are you staying?”

“You want me to stay?” Marcus was pathetically hopeful that Liam would say yes. Then he saw the regret painted on Liam’s expression, and he instinctively knew Liam needed space.

“I just need to get my head straight,” Liam admitted.

“If you need to talk…” Marcus left the sentence unfinished.

“Not now,” Liam said. His tone wasn’t hard; if anything he sounded sad. Marcus had so much he wanted to say. That Liam shouldn’t be alone right now. What would Liam say if he insisted on staying here?