Chapter Three

Blaze

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“Son of a bitch,” I groaned as my eyes fluttered open.

The alarm on my phone was going off and I’d reached up to silence it while half asleep. That move had sent a wave of pain through my body that was so sharp it felt like a cinder block had been dropped on me.

It took me almost thirty seconds to get myself close enough to the phone to silence the alarm, and then a full minute to sit up.

My entire body hurt from my ankles to the tips of my fingers. I felt like death warmed over, but I had to get up.

Last night had been buckets of fucked up, and not just because I’d almost had my head stomped.

Getting jumped sucked, almost getting killed was sobering, but it was meeting Galen that had my head spinning.

Who would have thought my Good Samaritan would be the hottest man I’d ever seen, and he’d been nice.

I had no idea why he’d wanted to help me, why he’d insisted on taking care of me. Other than my makeshift family at the bar no one had ever shown me that kind of concern, and it was a little unnerving.

The weirdest part was how he hadn’t wanted anything in return, and he’d actually given me his card and offered his legal services for free. What the actual fuck? Nothing was free, but he was straight so I was guessing he didn’t want the type of repayment that was normally demanded from me.

Between the adrenaline from the attack wearing off just before we’d reached my apartment and the pain from getting my ass kicked, I was sure I’d read the situation wrong. I’d flirted and teased Galen because that’s what I always did, but there seemed to have been something there. Not flirtation, per se, but maybe some heat in some of the looks he’d given me. Or so I thought.

I shook my head and glanced down at my side. Just because I’d felt currents of electricity that had sent my pulse racing and my adrenaline pumping didn’t mean Galen had felt a damn thing. He was straight, for fuck’s sake. I was dreaming if I thought he saw me as anything other than a charity case he’d rescued.

“Motherfucker,” I gasped as I managed to stand up.

I didn’t think my ribs were broken, but by the size of the bruise I couldn’t rule out internal bleeding. Fucking perfect. This was exactly what I needed.

It took me way too long to hobble into my bathroom and down a couple more pills. I managed to brush my hair and teeth, and get my other business done, before I went to the tubs next to my bed to get some clothes. Getting dressed was a bit of a chore and I ended up putting a button-up shirt on so I didn’t have to navigate a t-shirt. By the time I was done getting ready for work I was cutting it close. I hoped there was no traffic on the way to the bar.

Somehow I managed to get down the stairs without falling on my face and into my rusted-out hatchback. It wasn’t much to look at but it worked, and that was all I could really ask for.

* * * * *

“What the fuck happened to you?” Layla, the day manager at the bar, asked as soon as she saw me hobble in. “Blaze?”

“I’m fine, Layla.” I stood up straighter and winced as pain shot through my side.

“Honey, you are not fine. Get your ass over here and tell me what happened.”

Layla might have only been about ten years older than me, but she mothered me like I was her child. At first I’d been put off with the concern and care she showed me, now I craved it. She was the closest thing I had to a mother, and she treated me better than my own ever had.

I made my way over to the bar and sat down on one of the stools. Layla pushed a glass of ice water toward me and then came around to sit on the stool next to me.

With her tall and rounded frame, flaming red hair and easy smile, Layla gave off the vibe of being jovial and easy going, but she could be a momma bear when it came to me and the other bartenders at The Den.

“I got my ass kicked last night.” I took a sip of the water and sighed. There was no point beating around the bush with Layla, she didn’t put up with my shit.

“What the hell? Who did this?”

I smirked as her eyes flashed and her hands balled into fists. It looked like she was about to jump up and hunt the fuckers down.

“I don’t know.” I sighed and turned to face her. “I was walking and three guys jumped me. They kicked the shit out of me and one was about to curb stomp me when some guy rushed over and scared them away.”

“Holy shit, Blaze.” Layla put her hand on my shoulder and looked into my eyes. “Honey, tell me the truth. Are you okay?”

“I’m...” the word fine died on my lips as I looked into Layla’s concerned eyes. I never could lie to her. I couldn’t admit that I wasn’t okay, so instead I shook my head.

“I know, honey.” Layla slid off the stool and stood beside me. All she had to do was give my shoulder a squeeze and I was melting into her hug and clinging to her with one arm.

“They almost fucking killed me,” I whispered against her ample chest as she held me close.

It was at that moment the reality of what had almost happened hit me and I couldn’t stop a few errant tears from sliding down my cheeks. If Galen hadn’t come by when he did. If he’d been delayed by even thirty seconds, I would be dead.

“Shhhhh,” Layla soothed as she rocked me gently. “It’s okay, hon.”

I didn’t cry for long, but I let her hold me until my side started to ache. She must have felt me shift because she pulled away and looked at me.

“I’m going to call Zander to cover your shift. I’ll take you to the hospital.”

“I’m fine—”

“You can keep saying that until you’re blue in the face and the cows come home, but it won’t change the fact that I’m taking you to the hospital to get you checked out. Now sit, drink and wait.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Good.” She dropped a quick kiss on my temple and went around the bar to get her phone.

I was just reaching for my water when a glass of soda was put in front of me, and a few seconds later a bag of chips and a sandwich appeared next to the soda.

I looked up just as Layla started to talk to Zander on the phone and mouthed a quick thank you. She just smiled and patted my arm as she explained what was going on to Zander.

It was weird to think how two years ago I’d been offered a job and my entire life had changed.

The Den was a bar that catered to the LBGTQ crowd. It wasn’t in the gay village, or at least the single street that claimed to be the heart of the gay community, but it was known as a relaxed and safe place for everyone to enjoy. The bar itself had been around for about ten years, but I’d only heard of it when the owner, Evan Michaels, had come to Open Arms and offered me a job.

I’d ended up at the shelter three months before, strung out and coming down from what would turn out to be my last hit of heroin. They’d gotten me into a treatment program, which included counselling and methadone, and given me a safe place to stay while I worked through the withdrawal and subsequent cravings.

After staying clean for ninety days I was enrolled in their work placement program, and two days later Evan had come to the shelter to interview me for a job as a bartender.

I’d been honest with him and disclosed my struggles with alcohol and heroin, but he hadn’t seemed concerned. I was a walking train wreck, and I still have no idea what he’d seen in me. I’d been living on the streets for almost six years, had dropped out of school in the tenth grade and I was a junkie with a record. I wouldn’t have hired me, but Evan offered me the job that day.

It hadn’t been easy, getting into the routine of getting up, going to work and living a clean life, but after an adjustment period I’d realized it was exactly what I’d needed. Two years later I was still sober, I had a new family, had gotten my GED and I felt like I was doing something with my life. It wasn’t much, but it was a hell of a lot better than the fate that would have found me if I’d kept living the way I had been.

Layla might be the bar mom, but Evan was definitely the resident dad. He was in his early forties, although he refused to tell anyone exactly how old he was, and he took care of all of us.

All of the staff was gay, including Layla, and we’d all had a rough road getting to where we were. Out of everyone I was closest to Layla, but I’d take a bullet for every other guy on the staff, no hesitation.

We were family, we just weren’t blood.

I had just finished the sandwich when Zander came through the doors to the bar.

“Blaze?” He hurried over to me, a worried look on his face.

Zander was kind of like the big brother I’d never had. At six-foot-one with dark brown hair, steel gray eyes and the body of a swimmer, he was incredibly handsome and I’d lusted after him when I first started at the bar. After working with him for a few months my crush had faded, although I still thought he was hot as fuck.

“I’m okay, mostly,” I corrected.

“Were you mugged? Layla said some assholes jumped you.”

“I was half a block from Envy and they didn’t want money.”

A look of understanding flashed in Zander’s eyes, followed closely by rage. Zander had his own experiences with gay bashing, and I knew what happened to me would bring back memories he’d been trying to forget.

“I’m okay, really.” I touched his arm, hoping to bring him back to the conversation before he got lost in the past. “Layla’s going to take me to get checked out, but I’m fine.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

“Don’t do that shit.”

“What?”

“Take this on yourself. You didn’t even know that’s where I was going, how could you possibly know what would happen? They picked me because I was an easy target, but I’m okay.”

“Do you know who saved you?”

I felt my face flush and hoped he wouldn’t notice in the dim light. “Yeah, some lawyer guy. Galen Wells.”

“Wells...that name is familiar,” Zander said thoughtfully before looking back at me. “He stepped in?”

“Yeah. Stopped them before it could get really serious. He even drove me home.”

“At least someone was there, someone helped.”

“Zander.” He had that faraway look in his eyes again.

“Sorry.” He clapped me on the shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “I’m glad you’re okay, relatively speaking of course.”

I chuckled and felt a bloom of warmth pass through my chest.

My birth family might have abandoned me at fifteen, but I had a new family now, and it was more than I’d ever had before.