Wesley (16 page)

Wes frowned, wondering if he was messing up by answering. He hoped not. “Yeah, it was. Haven’t really picked up anything else.”

“Me either.” Armando chuckled again and Wes almost felt offended until Armando dived in for a quick, awkward, chaste kiss that ended with their lips barely grazing. “Sorry, I just think it’s funny that first of all, I have a mate, and second, he’d be the brother of a guy I’ve hated unfairly for a couple of years. That part of it’s a mess, you know?”

“It doesn’t have to be.” Wes was trying really hard not to be hurt. Armando wasn’t being an ass, he was trusting Wes enough to share his thoughts and feelings with him. “Sully won’t be a jerk about it. Bobby is always a jerk, so I can’t promise anything there. But, Armando, it doesn’t have to be difficult. Me and my family, all of them, will welcome you. Even Sully, or especially him.”

This time, when Armando cried, Wes got to hold him.

Chapter Ten

Alisa texted him to tell him that she and Dr Young had calmed everyone but Sue down by the time Armando was able to leave his office. He’d sent Wes out, not entirely for prurient reasons. Crying always caused Armando’s face to bloat and there was the whole snot and tears mess going on. Plus, he knew the kids needed as many volunteers helping them as possible.

Instead of the appointment he’d meant to schedule with his psychiatrist, Armando had ended up having a teleconference session with her. He thought it had helped, even if he had ended up bawling like a baby again as he recounted the events of the night he was raped, as well as the promise of a new start with Wes. While he was nowhere near cured, if such a thing was even possible, he felt lighter inside, as if some of the darkness he’d carried around for years had turned to a lighter shade of black, which he supposed was grey. It’d take God only knew how many counselling sessions for the memories to fade even more, but at least now Armando did believe such a thing was possible.

It was time to quit dwelling on his own shit, though. He’d have come out of his office sooner if he’d been able to keep it together, but everything that had happened since he’d seen Wes in the morning had overwhelmed him.

Finding out he was mate to a shifter was…discombobulating. Armando couldn’t think of another word for it. On the one hand, he wasn’t sure he could handle the intensity that made up the mate-bond. On the other hand, Armando wanted it, very badly. To know someone would be yours, and only yours, forever? Or at least until one of you died, maybe even past then, depending on what really happened after death. Armando didn’t have an answer or even a belief on that subject.

But to have a partner who would never betray you, never leave you or deliberately hurt you, and who would put you first—wasn’t that everyone’s hidden dream, whether they’d admit it or not? Armando wasn’t any different, despite his protests. He wanted to be loved, wanted security and forever. If Wes wasn’t a shifter, Armando wouldn’t have believed he would stand by Armando through anything. Stand in front of him to protect him, too.

Wes was a shifter, however, and Armando had seen the mate-bonds between couples. There was no breaking them, and the love and caring the mates had for one another was beautiful. Though he’d never realised it before, Armando wanted that, and now he was going to have it. He could put faith in it, unlike a regular relationship between humans, a marriage that could be broken all too easily. The mate-bond was so much more than a piece of paper and a ceremony. Armando was already beginning to feel it melding into his bones, binding him in some weird and wonderful metaphysical way to Wes.

He hoped, to the depths of his soul, that it eradicated his fear of sex. Wes had made him forget, when they’d been macking like crazy on the floor, but as soon as Armando had felt the press of Wes’ dick beneath his ass, even with their clothes on, he’d had to move. Too many dark memories threatened to surface and he wanted the pleasure he was getting from Wes instead of that. As soon as he’d rolled so that his butt and Wes’ cock were no longer in contact, the bands of fear had disintegrated.

Armando wasn’t sure if that meant he was never going to be able to have anal sex again, or not. He supposed he and Wes would just have to figure it out, because they were, indeed, mates. Armando’s survival instincts had kept him alive when many kids would have become murder victims or died from an overdose. Even that night in Bobby’s club, Armando had survived. He needed to trust himself again, and trust in the bond he knew would grow stronger over time.

His shrink would have a field day with him suddenly settling down with a man, but Armando couldn’t explain it to her, not really. Maybe he wasn’t going to be a hundred per cent honest with her yet, he thought, snorting to himself.

The conference room was empty. Armando stopped short of the doorway and frowned. He noticed then that no one was manning—or womanning, what was the correct term there?—the front. Anyone could come in and cause problems.

Or not. The
Closed For Lunch
sign was up, and while he hated having the doors locked unless absolutely necessary, now was obviously one of those times. At least there was a buzzer that could be rung should anyone need help.
Where would they all go?

Wes wouldn’t have left the building without giving him a head’s up. Armando didn’t think he would, at least. After listening for a minute, he realised he could hear faint sounds coming from upstairs. The individual rooms were up there, along with a living area, kitchen and a big room they used as a dining room on special occasions.

Armando headed for the stairs and thought he smelt pizza, but that might have been wishful thinking. He loved greasy, hot pizza. The promise of some had him sprinting, and he almost collided with Wes when he rounded the corner for the hallway leading to the dining room.

“Thought that was you,” Wes murmured, catching him up in a loose embrace. He looked worried, and a little scared. Armando wondered what a guy like Wes had to fear.

“Yes, I figured I needed to get over myself and do my job. How are Sue and the others?”

Wes grimaced and glanced back in the direction he’d come from. “Sue finally let Alisa take her to the doctor. She’s back now, but she looks rough. Not that her injuries are slowing Sue down any. She’s planning a revolution, but they’ve stopped talking about actually killing people so that’s good, right?”

“You have to ask?” Armando scoffed, pushing a hank of hair out of his eyes. “They wouldn’t really do that, anyway. Not even Sue, no matter now angry she is.”

“She’s scared, too, and that can make a person do stupid shit,” Wes pointed out as he turned back to face Armando. “But yeah, they were venting. Maybe we can encourage a less violent means of doing that sometime.”

Armando pulled back, aware that, while he’d had Wes’ dick in his mouth less than twenty-four hours ago, he didn’t really know the man at all. Wes let him go but Armando could tell by his expression that he was hurt.

“Just because we’re mates doesn’t mean I’m going to suddenly become nice,” he explained, baring his teeth in a grin meant to tease.

Wes hummed and eyed him for a moment before Alisa hollered from the dining room for him. “Guess I can consider myself warned. No nice Armando.” Wes’ smile was all teeth in return. “I’m discovering that I like a challenge.”

“So I’m suitably warned as well.” And twisted, because hearing Wes say so made him hard. Armando tugged down his baggy sweatshirt just to ensure it covered his groin and he caught Wes smirking at him.

The saying about starting off as you meant to go on flitted through his head and Armando pinched Wes’ ass. Wes yelped and jolted, and Armando wiped his hands together. “I’m not big on being smirked at.” He was joking, mostly, but Wes would have to figure that out. They needed to learn to ‘get’ each other anyway.

“Sue is determined to get Dyan back,” Alisa said in a low tone as she approached them. “And did you just pinch Wes’ ass?”

Armando’s skin went hot with embarrassment. “So? He needed it.”

Alisa squealed—loudly—and clapped as she bounced on her toes. “Oh, fantastic! Y’all are going to make an adorable couple, and maybe you won’t be such a surly bitch—”

Armando loved Alisa, but she had a habit of crossing lines. “Overstep, Alisa.” That was his warning to her, the one they had agreed on when he’d told her she had issues with respecting other people’s boundaries.
Was Wes really growling behind him?
Armando could just barely hear a low, rumbling sound, but he could feel Wes’ irritation at Alisa.

Alisa sighed dramatically and fluttered her hands in the air. “Fine, fine, I did it again, but you know what I mean. Getting laid definitely helps de-grouch anyone.”

“So you’ve been striking out for a while,” Wes said drolly as he looped an arm over Armando’s shoulders.

Alisa blinked and Armando laughed and patted Wes’ hip. “Oh, I like you. You bite back.”

“He does.” Alisa scowled before chortling. “Ah, man, I might just lose my title as resident smartass too. Come on, you two, the pizza’s gonna get cold, and I need help coming up with something to keep Sue from storming the Change for Christ Retreat.”

“Retreat?” Armando almost choked on the word. “Retreat? What the—”

“I bet they’re scared of the hellfire and brimstone the public would heap on them if they called it what it really is, a place where they ruin lives and try to brainwash kids.” Wes’ scorn was evident in every word he spoke. “Forced imprisonment for homosexuals, that’s what they are. No one would be allowed to do shit like that to straight people and get away with it.”

Alisa cursed as she led the way down the hall. “No, but there’s an idea. Maybe we need a straight-to-homosexual therapy retreat.”

“That isn’t any better than what they’re doing to Dyan and others,” Armando scolded. “You know that isn’t the way to fight back.”

“Then what is? What do we tell Sue, who watched her girlfriend of how many years get forcibly taken from her?” Alisa stopped and planted her hands on her hips as she turned to them. “When she got beaten by grown men who were probably trained for combat of some sort? When those armed men,
armed men
, grabbed a petite girl and dragged her away despite her screams for help? Huh? You tell me how we can fight that!”

“We can’t,” Sue said, coming out of the doorway. Her right eye was swollen shut, the skin all around it a distressing shade of purple. Several stitches darkened her bottom lip, running down to her chin. Armando had to call upon all of his internal strength not to flinch or gasp or be ill. Despite the things he’d seen and had done to him as a kid, he still couldn’t comprehend people’s hatred and abuse of children.

Sue continued speaking, only slurring her words slightly. “Not legally. Even I know that.”

A chill of premonition went through Armando as he took in the determination and hatred burning in Sue’s eyes. “Violence isn’t the way,” he began, but Sue cut him off promptly.

“I didn’t say we had to use violence, but I will be damned if I sit back and do nothing while the love of my goddamned life is tortured by religious zealots.” She pointed at him. “And I don’t care if they don’t physically torture her, although I think there’s some of that going on there. Words, words can hurt every bit as much as fists or belts. I want her back, and I will get her back, with or without anyone else’s help.”

Sue took a deep breath and nodded seemingly to herself as she appeared to be looking inward. “I won’t try to get the other kids involved. That was wrong, I see that now. It isn’t fair to them. They’re young, impressionable and passionate for the LGBT cause. But…” She craned her neck and batted long lashes from her uninjured eye at them. “I will beg for any help or advice I can get from the adults in my life. Any
useful
advice, that is. Don’t waste your time telling me to wait, because it ain’t gonna happen.”

“So our options are to help you, or read about you getting arrested in the paper?” Armando snapped, hating to be put in a place where he had to make a choice.

Sue shrugged and turned back to the dining room. “No one said you have to read the stupid paper.”

“Well, that’s a mature comeback,” he groused.

“She’s probably in there whispering already about how Wes has an arm around you, too, so can y’all speed it up?” Alisa flounced off, something she did badly, looking more like a drunken giraffe than a huffy princess.

“You should move your arm,” Armando said as he glanced at Wes. “It’s kind of unprofessional.”

“It isn’t any such thing. I’m not mauling you, and even friends can put an arm on each other like this.” Wes gave him a little squeeze. “We’re going to be friends, and more than that, and I will move my arm if you insist, but I really like touching you.”

Oh hell, it was just an arm on his shoulders. And it felt so good to let go, to just not be driven by his past for a little while. Armando didn’t want to come across as too easy, though, so he huffed a little as he said, “Fine, leave it, but the kids will gossip regardless.”