Chapter Eight

Vargas flipped through the cooking magazine and found nothing he’d ever want to attempt making. Irritated, he ditched the magazine onto the table beside him. He was the only one left in the waiting room, and the empty space didn’t afford him the necessary distractions he needed whenever Seth was in his PT.

He hated waiting there, hated this part of his week.

When Seth had first started his physical therapy at the hospital’s inpatient rehab center, Vargas had made the mistake of watching the workout. The pain etched on Seth’s face as the therapist pushed him to strengthen his injured and unused muscles was excruciating to witness. Vargas almost lost his lunch five minutes in.

Plus Seth had seemed embarrassed that first day. Better to let him have those moments of torture and triumph alone with the therapist.

Seth insisted the PT was better now, difficult but nothing compared to those first few months. Still, Vargas hated to think of the pain he might be going through in there three times a week.

He sighed and tipped his head back. The pale beige ceiling was even less distracting than the magazine.

One thing he did miss about the previous rehab facility at the hospital was the waiting area. From there he couldn’t hear anything going on in the workout room nearby. At this specialized rehab center where Seth now did his PT, he and his therapist typically used the space directly around the corner from the waiting room. Vargas was forever trying to tune out the sounds of Seth’s straining grunts. It didn’t always work.

Although today, Seth had barely made a sound or said a word to the therapist. Why? Was he upset? Was it what they’d discussed in the van about him staying at the Haven? Or something else?

Early on Dr. Arteaga had encouraged Vargas to let Seth talk about whatever he chose to, whenever he wanted. She said he might only share details of what happened to him in spurts, whenever he felt comfortable enough or had something particular on his mind. She told Vargas not to pressure Seth into saying more than he was ready for, that it might take years before he could open up to the people in his life about the days he’d been held captive.

Vargas did his best not to push, but it nearly killed him to see Seth wanting to talk and not being able to.

“You’re doing great. Just one more.” That was his therapist.

There was a pause, then Seth grunted out, “Five more.”

Vargas grinned at those words. Seth pushed himself harder than anyone he’d ever met.

The smile quickly faded, though, as he considered that more carefully. Was now the right time for Seth to visit the Haven? Or was it going to do more damage than good? Vargas hated the idea of questioning Dr. Arteaga and her approach to Seth’s treatment, but he couldn’t stand the thought that going to the club would in any way hurt Seth or impede his progress.

Only, Vargas had already made the promise, and he wouldn’t back out. He had to trust that, after months of therapy to combat his PTSD, Seth knew what he could handle and what he couldn’t.

The image of the last time Vargas had seen Seth traverse the club’s first floor, looking so carefree and happy only minutes before Prescott had overpowered him, was burned into his memory. He’d do almost anything to see him like that again.

Yet he also couldn’t deny that he wanted Seth in his apartment for other reasons. Reasons he shouldn’t have even been considering.

What had happened in the kitchen that morning and again in the hospital’s meditation room had definitely come too close to what he’d been telling himself wasn’t an option when it came to Seth.

Easier said than done. Especially with the way Seth had offered that wide-eyed, unblinking stare that spoke volumes about what he was hoping would happen between them.

Vargas closed his eyes, and for the briefest unbridled moment, he let his mind wander to exactly what he did want: Seth in his bed. Naked. Groaning, not from pain but pleasure. His eyes alight with lust and affection and…

Gratitude.

That one word summed up why it might not be such a bad idea to consider stepping over that line with Seth. To help him be intimate with someone again, help him move beyond that barrier. As a friend.

But then what?

He’d have to give Seth up, that’s what. Let him move on, move past what happened to him. Meet someone. Fall in love.

Vargas shot out of the chair and paced the length of the empty waiting room, needing to move, to cut off the thoughts spinning around in his head.

He heard the familiar squeak of Seth’s wheelchair. A second later, Seth rounded the corner and came to a standstill before him. He lifted his chin and peered up at him, and Vargas found himself staring into those lust-filled brown eyes.

He took the cane Seth had draped across his lap. “You ready?”

“Yep.” Seth held the stare for another beat, then headed for the door.

Vargas forced himself to be more clinical about how he helped Seth into the van that time, and the drive home passed by without conversation. When they reached Seth’s apartment, Vargas took the keys from him and opened the door, then flipped on the overhead light and moved aside for Seth to enter.

Once a few feet inside, Seth stopped short. It was like he was unsure what to do next, which was odd. He usually couldn’t wait to ditch the chair and get settled on the couch.

Charlie came barreling out of the living room, running right for them. As Vargas had done countless times before, he lunged for the dog and held him back with an arm around him and a hand on his sparkly pink collar before Charlie could attack Seth in his excitement. He was still afraid the dog would get a paw run over or knock Seth down as he tried to stand. Even after all this time, Charlie was a spastic mess whenever Seth got home, like the relief of seeing his owner was as real for the dog as it had been that day Seth had first entered the apartment after being released from the hospital.

That moment was another memory that would never fade for Vargas. The minute Seth had wheeled inside, Charlie pounced. Vargas did his best to keep the dog from climbing all over Seth, who was still seriously hurting at the time. But that was tough when Charlie sounded like he was literally crying, yelping and whimpering as he tried to get closer.

Seth had cried too. The first time for that.

For ten minutes Seth had simply loved on Charlie, and in return the dog crawled his front half onto Seth’s lap. Eventually Charlie had settled down, and Seth leaned his forehead against the dog’s. The two stayed locked in that pose for several breaths, Seth stroking Charlie along his sides as he said, “I won’t go away again. I promise.”

Witnessing the pair reunite had gotten Vargas choked up too. The closest he’d come to serious tears since he’d been a kid and stood before his father’s casket.

Even now, it was pretty damn hard to watch them together after Seth first came in the door.

“It’s okay,” Seth said. “Come here, boy.”

Vargas let go of Charlie, and the dog ran for Seth, his tail wagging a mile a minute. He got his front paws on Seth’s lap and set to nuzzling his face all over.

Seth petted him, then gave Charlie a kiss on the top of the head and encouraged him to get down. Without moving farther into the apartment, or even attempting to get out of the chair, Seth asked Vargas, “You have to take off right away?”

“I’m not in a hurry.”

Only then did Seth set the lock on his chair so he could stand. He braced his hands on the armrests and pushed his weight up. When he was steady on his feet, he took the cane Vargas handed over. “Thanks.”

Was that for the cane or because he told him he’d stay?

It wasn’t that Seth couldn’t be there alone at all, but he definitely preferred it when someone was with him when it was going to be more than a couple of hours.

When he and Dylan had first moved in together, Dylan had made a point of spending as much time at home as he could. They would just hang out together, watch movies, play video games, or simply read in the same space. Dylan had also made an effort to include Aaron, one of Prescott’s other victims, in their movie nights more often than not. If Blake, Foster, and Ollie, the other three men who’d also been abducted, had stayed in the city, Vargas was certain Dylan would’ve invited them to join in with the group activities.

It said a lot about a man when he didn’t run from the people who’d seen him in the worst experience of his life.

With the help of his cane, Seth made his way toward the living room, favoring his left side the way he always did. He stopped halfway to the couch, held still for several seconds, then changed directions and went into the kitchen instead. He returned with Charlie’s leash. Moving with agitation, he passed Vargas and hurried for the door, Charlie tagging along once he spotted the leash.

“Come on, Charlie. Time to go out.”

“Seth…”

“Don’t. I’m taking my dog for a walk. Alone.” Despite his words, he halted at the door. His back to Vargas, he made no attempt to open the door or turn around.

“Seth, you don’t have to do this.” Vargas carefully approached, stopping a few steps short of him. “I’ll go with you.”

“No! I’m doing this on my own.” But he still didn’t move.

“You don’t have to prove anything to anyone.”

“Yeah, I do. I have to prove it to myself.”

“Seth…”

“I can do this.”

Cautiously Vargas closed the distance. “But it doesn’t have to be today.”

“You don’t think I can do it?”

“I know you will. When you’re ready.”

Charlie pressed his snout to the back of Seth’s hand that was clutching the leash. As if the dog sensed what was going on and wanted to offer his own brand of support, he licked Seth’s hand and then took off for the living room, giving up on the idea of a walk. On his way, he scooped up one of his toys, a short length of knotted rope. He hopped up onto the couch, spun around in a tight circle, then sat. He had the rope dangling from both sides of his mouth, his eyes locked on Seth’s back where he still stood in the entranceway.

Seth remained motionless for another minute, his breaths shallow and rapid, his fist clasped around the leash so hard his knuckles had lost all color. It took everything Vargas had to wait him out, to give him the space and power to make his own decision on this.

Eventually Seth turned to him. “I will do it.”

“You will.”

“When I’m ready.”

“Exactly.”

Seth must’ve spotted Charlie waiting for him. He laughed with his next breath. “I’m coming.” He eased by Vargas and headed for the sofa, ditching the dog leash on the coffee table on his way by. By the time he was seated, sweat had broken out across his forehead, and he was out of breath. That wasn’t typical.

Vargas advanced on instinct but then stopped at the edge of the room. “Was the PT tough today?”

“It wasn’t bad.” Seth reached for the rope in Charlie’s mouth and tugged on one end. The dog scrambled to a standing position on the couch, and the two played tug of war, Charlie obviously taking it easy. When Seth let go of the rope, Charlie tossed it in the air, caught it, then hurled the toy up again, content to play with himself for a stretch. On the next toss, the rope flew sideways and landed on the floor beside the couch. Charlie made no move to retrieve it. He looked to Seth.

Seth pitched forward over the arm of the couch and reached for the rope, but it was out of his range. Vargas was itching to step up and help, but right then wasn’t the time to offer assistance unless Seth asked for it.

Seth lifted his ass off the cushion. Bracing his other hand against the couch, he extended the stretch. That time his fingers came into contact with the rope, but he still couldn’t get a hold of it.

Vargas sighed. “Seth…”

“I can do it myself.” He stretched his arm out more. All at once he winced and jerked back, his ass landing on the couch cushion. “Shit.”

That did it. Vargas got moving.

Seth held up a hand. “Don’t. Please.”

Vargas forced himself to stop. “You okay?”

“Yeah. It wasn’t bad. I just need a minute.”

“All right.” As much as Vargas longed to keep Seth from getting hurt, he also wanted to respect his need to do things for himself. He waited, but he couldn’t stand still a second longer. He went for Seth’s wheelchair and wheeled it down the hall toward the bedroom closet where Seth stored the chair between uses.

As he opened the accordion doors, he braced himself for what he saw every time he did this: the colorful pillows stacked on the floor, the sparkly beads hanging from the ceiling at the back of the closet, the lamp with a pink and orange glass shade positioned on top of a small plastic table, and the open area beside that for the wheelchair. Seth had asked Dylan to help him create the space not long after he’d gotten home from the hospital. Dylan said Seth often sat in his chair in the closet, a pillow behind his head, a book in his hands, and the closet doors shut.

Vargas figured being in such tight quarters would’ve been an impossible move for him after the way Prescott had kept him captive in what amounted to an oversize dog crate. But Seth seemed to like the enclosed space of the closet, liked being surrounded by the remnants of his old life. Maybe he felt too exposed, too vulnerable in open areas.

All because of what that asshole did to him.

Vargas closed his eyes until the frustration passed. He gave one last look at the pillows on the floor and then shut the closet doors. He returned to the living room to find Charlie lying on the couch, half of him on Seth’s lap, the other half sprawled on the couch cushion as Seth rubbed him behind the ears. The abandoned toy rope now lay on the couch beside them.

Vargas moved the toy and sat. He petted Charlie along his back. “Why don’t I take him out?”

“You have time?”

“You bet.” He offered the dog a few more rubs along his side. Charlie sat up and shifted around to lie across his lap.

“He sure likes you.”

“The feeling’s mutual.” He gave Charlie some more love, then let up on the scratching. “You ready to take a walk?”

Charlie immediately shot up and scrambled off the couch.

Seth laughed. “I guess so.”

Vargas hesitated. He’d taken Charlie out loads of times after Seth’s therapy when Dylan was gone or had plans to stay out late, and each time it took incredible resolve for Vargas to walk out the door with Charlie, knowing Seth would be there alone after he’d just had a session with Dr. Arteaga. How the hell was he going to leave him there for the entire night?

“I won’t be long.” He rose, picking up Charlie’s leash from the coffee table. He waited until Seth offered a smile before he got Charlie ready and headed out with him.

He made quick work of their walk, anxious to get back. Once inside the apartment again, he let Charlie off the leash. The dog went for a drink in the kitchen, and Vargas returned to the living room.

Seth was standing before the bookshelf opposite the couch, the cane at his side. One shelf served as an entertainment center with a TV and Xbox. Most of the other shelves were filled with random items like cords for cell phones and other electronic devices, pairs of sunglasses, and several framed photos.

Vargas approached, ensuring he made enough noise he wouldn’t startle Seth like he had earlier in the kitchen.

Seth’s focus was on the shelf that was eye level with him. It contained a collection of unicorn figurines, all in varying sizes and colors. He seemed to be focused on the largest and most elaborate one, which had stripes of purple running through its thick, flared mane and matching swirls of color circling its horn. Its front legs were in the air as if in the middle of some epic battle. Was he thinking back to when he’d acquired the statuette? Or about something else entirely? Maybe about the framed picture of the little girl that sat amid the unicorns. They’d never talked about her. Vargas had never brought her up, not knowing if the topic was a good idea or not.

He still didn’t.

So instead he asked, “You hungry?”

“Nah. Dylan made us a big lunch earlier. I think he felt bad about not coming back tonight.” Seth gestured over his shoulder toward the kitchen. “You can make something for yourself if you want.”

“I’m good.”

Seth moved back to the couch, proceeding much more rapidly than before. Lately he’d been coming home from therapy more and more despondent, yet also agitated.

Or maybe today it was about something other than the therapy.

Either way, Vargas did what he’d done each time before when Seth had been in a similar mood. He sat beside him and waited.

Charlie returned to the couch, and Seth set to petting him again. A minute passed. Then another.

His hand stilled on the dog. “Who did you fight with this morning?”

“It wasn’t a fight. Someone just pissed me off, and I took out my frustration on a brick wall.”

“Who pissed you off?”

“A lawyer.”

“Prescott’s?”

“Yeah.”

“They’re going ahead with the appeal, aren’t they?”

“Yes.”

“And you still don’t know who hired him, who pushed Prescott to plead not guilty?”

“No. But I’m going to figure it out.”

“Does it matter anymore?”

“It might.”

The dog jumped off the couch and went to curl up on his bed in the corner of the room. Seth turned to Vargas. “I have an idea. You said Tucker located some of the attorney’s financial records. I could take a look at them. Maybe there’s a way to track the payments he’s receiving. Or maybe he’s hiding the money somewhere. I might be able to figure it out.”

Vargas shook his head. “You don’t need to. Tucker has his best people working the money angle.”

“But I want to help. I need to do something.” The look of desperation about broke Vargas’s resolve.

“What if you helped me with the club’s finances?”

“Find out what your accountant is keeping from you?”

“Yeah. The whole thing’s driving me nuts.”

Seth seemed to be considering that. “I know what you’re doing.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re distracting me so I won’t go near Prescott’s case.”

“Is it working?”

He said nothing at first, then, “Maybe.” But his expression remained impassive.

Vargas folded his arms across his chest and sat back. He would not relent on this. Despite all his efforts to help Seth in feeling empowered, keeping him safe was goal one. Seth could help review the club’s finances, but no way was he getting anywhere near Prescott’s attorney.

Just then a smile spread across Seth’s lips.

“What?”

“I was thinking about that drinking game.” He gestured to Vargas’s folded arms.

“I’m glad I can amuse you.”

“The game was just something I could think about that made me feel good.” He paused, his focus locked on his hands as he flicked the end of one thumbnail with the other. “You always make me feel good.”

Despite everything Vargas had been admonishing himself for earlier, he cupped Seth’s chin in his hand and lifted his head until they were eye to eye. Then he swept his palm over Seth’s cheek. “I’m glad.”

Seth’s eyes fell shut, and he leaned into the touch. With that reaction, Vargas couldn’t stop the contact, even if he’d wanted to. He ran the pad of his thumb across Seth’s lower lip.

Instantly Seth parted his lips and sucked in a sharp breath like he relished that touch, like he wanted more of it. A hell of a lot more. So Vargas kept it going, tracing that gorgeous mouth with his thumb again and again. He took in the sight of Seth’s face. He’d looked at him hundreds of times while he slept in the hospital. He’d memorized every curve, every line, the shape of his mouth, the fullness of his lower lip, the long eyelashes that seem darker when his eyes were closed.

“No one will touch me.” Seth opened his eyes. “It’s like everyone’s so afraid that I’ll break. Or I’ll lose it or something.”

“I’m not afraid.” Although that wasn’t the entire truth. He wanted to touch Seth, more than anything, but he was also scared as hell he’d hurt him.

Seth bit his bottom lip. Without taking his eyes off Vargas, he reached up. The tips of his fingers brushed Vargas’s lower lip as if he were in awe of its existence. Then with his index finger, Seth traced his mouth like Vargas had done to him. Their breathing fell in sync.

Seth leaned in and only removed his fingers from Vargas’s lips a second before he pressed their mouths together.

That was all it took. Vargas had no desire—no will—to stop him.

Seth’s lips were warm, his touch tentative. But at the same time, it felt like every molecule of his being was focused on that one point connecting them, like experiencing that simple kiss was surging something back to life for him and he might explode if he didn’t keep it going. It was heady, having all that bottled-up desire directed at him in a single, chaste kiss.

What the hell would more than that kiss be like?

Everything in Vargas screamed at him to grab hold of Seth and haul him forward until they were plastered together, until Seth was in his arms where he longed to feel him.

But then abruptly, Seth jerked back. “I’m sorry.” He shook his head and scrambled backward on the couch. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Vargas held out a hand, signaling that everything was all right. “Don’t be sorry. I’m sure as hell not.”

“You’re not?”

“Not at all.” He slid closer. He wanted to wrap his arms around Seth and hold him until that look of uncertainty vanished. Then do far more than hold him. He reached out and gave Seth’s cheek a caress with the backs of his fingers. “It was lovely.”

Seth nodded, those brown eyes staring back at Vargas with complete trust. “It was.” Seth turned to sit with his back against the couch. A smile emerged. “It was.”

Afraid the silence that had descended would make Seth uncomfortable with what he’d just done, Vargas asked, “You want to watch a movie together?”

“You don’t have to go to work?”

“Not tonight. I thought I’d stay until Dylan gets back tomorrow, if that’s okay with you.”

“Spend the night here?” The relief in Seth’s expression said it all. He wasn’t ready to go it alone. “Will you think less of me?”

“Absolutely not. I brought a bag, just in case. It’s over by the door, but it’s your call. Whatever you want.”

“You sure you don’t have to get back to the club?”

“I’m sure.”

“Then… could you stay?”

Vargas nodded. “It’s a done deal. So how about a movie first, then dinner later?” Something they’d done dozens of times before, but it didn’t matter. This time was different. No pretending otherwise.

They picked out an action flick to rent online, one of the Fast & Furious movies. It seemed a safe bet. Nothing too dramatic or serious. Just crazy stunts with cars.

Vargas got the movie cued up. “You ready?”

Seth nodded.

Ten minutes into it, Seth scooted closer and laid his head against Vargas’s shoulder. “Is this okay?”

Vargas didn’t hesitate. He pressed his lips to the top of Seth’s head. “It’s more than okay.”