––––––––

My phone was ringing. I heard it somewhere, but it was too difficult to open my eyes and search for the thing. Jesus, how much had I drunk? I dragged my eyes open and looked down at myself, naked as the day I was born. Fuck, how did I even get home? I struggled to put the pieces together, all I had was a great big nothing. I squinted down across my aching body, and nausea swirled fierce in my gut. There was a faint waft of something sweet and sickly invading my nostrils, a smell I was all too familiar with. Rubbing my hand down my face, something soft caught on my stubble. It’s where the smell was coming from. I shoved my hand away from my face and watched with horror the red scarf attached to my wrist, flutter before me.

I bolted up in bed.

Oh, fuck!

Taking a quick scan around my bedroom, it looked like a goddamned bomb had hit it. There were empty booze bottles and condom wrappers....no wait, used condoms littering the floor, my sheets strewn at the bottom of my bed. I caught sight of a red heel in the middle of the carpet. If I wasn’t awake before then I damned sure was now.

What the fuck?

Looking down my body again, panic crawled over me when I spied red smudges around the base of my cock. Oh, fuck no...that can’t be right. I sat there stupefied, willing my head to straighten out and remember what had happened at the bar. I grasped at my hair in frustration and roared into the silence of the apartment, dread settling into my bones.

What the fuck did I do?

My phone rang again but I ignored it, ripping the scarf off my wrist while jumping up and searching around for my jeans. Locating them, I pulled them up over my hips and made my way through the flat, taking a walk around the other rooms. Nothing was out of place or messed up the way my bedroom was though, so I stood there scratching my head, trying to make some fucking sense of it all. My phone rang once more but I needed to piss so made my way to the bathroom before deciding to answer whoever felt the need to keep calling.

Shoving the bathroom door open, I stopped dead with mortification. It took all of two seconds before I was reaching for the toilet basin and puking my guts up. Really puking. Collapsing on the floor several minutes later, I stayed there for a full fifteen before the sick feeling subsided. The cold floor was far better than having to confront the nightmare I’d fallen into, the ugly truth pinned to my bathroom walls. I couldn’t stomach the sight of me and Chrissie naked, never mind fucking, yet every single polaroid told the story clear as day.

I was in big fucking trouble – huge.

Ringing and ringing, the phone kept going, to the point my frustration made me scream out loud. There was nothing good on the other end of that call. It wouldn’t be who I wanted. No, it was someone else. Someone who knew the betrayal decorating my bathroom.

Flushing the toilet, I dragged myself up from the floor refusing to look around me as I left the bathroom. Stomping through to my bedroom in a half daze, I combed the room for my phone. Searching for the hours I couldn’t remember as I catalogued the mess. I found the bloody phone under the bed where a red heel poked out in accusation, and answered it without glancing at the screen, not caring who it was.

The growl on the other end as I picked up sent a shiver down my spine, and not a pleasant one. “Shaun?” Yeah, this wasn’t gonna be good, I may just have signed my death warrant.

“Lucca,” I answered, shutting my eyes and waiting for it.

“Fucking warned you.” Another low growl assaulted my ears; intimidating as fuck, making me cringe. “What the fuck am I looking at?” he shouted. And there it was; my demise in all its gory details.

“I dunno, Lucca,” I answered honestly. “I can’t remember.” What could I say to him?

“I fucking told you...” he paused, and I heard the menace in his voice loud and clear when he spoke again. “If you hurt my boy or brought your shit to his door then I would goddamned deal with you!” He was shouting, and I could honestly say I didn’t blame him, I’d be doing more if I was him.

Sinking to the floor in defeat, the fear was very real? Why would it not be? I knew who Lucca Rinaldi was now and he wasn’t a man to be fucked with, but it wasn’t that which I feared. No, it was losing the man I absolutely worshipped and right then it was a very distinct possibility.

“Let me fix this, please.” I pleaded. Shit, I’d beg to the ends of the earth if it meant I still had Ayden.

“You do that, Shaun, you fucking do that!” he bellowed, then hung up.

Fuck...