“Brian, you… you called out my name.”

Brian just stared at Sway for a long time. He wouldn’t fuck with him like that, this wasn’t some twisted, ass-backwards joke. Sway had tears in his eyes. He seemed confused and surprised but most of all he looked ‘in-love’, and that’s what had Brian torn up inside. He hadn’t heard anything, he didn’t feel anything.

That’s a lie. He’d felt a lot. Too much. He’d been overloaded with sensations and feelings. Brian shook his head, trying to really process what Sway was saying, but Brian knew he was mistaken. He wouldn’t be the first one to confuse Brian’s harsh breaths as whispered words.

Brian was scared to open his mouth in that moment so when he signed his lips were sealed tight. “You might’ve thought you heard it.”

Sway slowly shook his head, “I heard it, baby. Right before I came.”

Well there you go. A man’s not in his right mind when his orgasm hits. When a man ejaculates, he can think he saw heaven’s pearly gates open wide for him. All that’s felt is nirvana. “I was breathing hard. Really hard.” Brian fought to convince him.

Sway looked devastated.

Brian closed his eyes in disappointment. Was Sway just waiting on Brian to speak? Was Sway not as accepting of his mutism as he’d thought? Please, not again.

Sway shook his head then his hands were on Brian’s cheeks. “Hey. It’s okay. Maybe you’re right. I did come harder than I ever have before. I probably heard my own voice.” Sway’s bottom lip trembled. He was a terrible liar.

“You good, B? You seem a bit distracted this morning.” Dana was turned around facing Brian in the backseat. His eyes traveled down to his boots. “Is it the ankle?”

Brian gave him a ‘don’t insult me’ look and turned back towards the window. He felt his brother’s eyes on him in his rearview mirror, but he didn’t engage. Was something wrong? Hell yes. Brian’s mind went right to where it had been five seconds ago.

He and Sway had held each other most of the evening and into the night. No more conversations were had. When Sway had left about five in the morning, neither of them had slept a wink. Sway seemed exhausted and dejected. Brian didn’t like sending him home that way but he needed some time to process what Sway had tried so adamantly to get him to believe. He remembered mouthing Sway’s name, like he did the other night too. This was no different.

Sway was just emotional. He was dealing with shit at work, so he must’ve been overwhelmed and hallucinating. Brian clenched his teeth. Or, maybe, he just didn’t want to accept it as truth. Because if he did, everyone would be pressuring him about doing it again. Trying to force the speech out of him… again.

If Sway was waiting for Brian to speak, he hated to think that over time he’d disappoint him when he didn’t. And, Sway would leave. Brian coughed and cleared his throat. It was a devastating thought… a crippling one. His brother’s dark gaze darted up to him again. Brian ignored it, trying to regulate his breathing. He couldn’t panic. Sway wasn’t going anywhere. Last night was just a misunderstanding.

Or not.

Brian gulped and tried to breathe in… he couldn’t. Fuck! Brian gripped his throat, his eyes widening. Calm down. Calm down. Breathe, one, two… Brian tried to take in more air, but his tongue felt thick, like a blockade. Brian closed his eyes and opened his mouth, working his throat but nothing happened. No sound.

He knew Sway had been wrong. I can’t fuckin talk!

Brian’s body jerked roughly in the back seat, then he registered the sound of rubber skidding on asphalt. His door was yanked open and his brother was in his face.

“Brian. Brian, listen to me.” Ford’s grip on the sides of his head was painful and grounding at the same time. “Breathe through this. You know what to do.”

Brian shook as his mind fought to comprehend how to accept oxygen. He clenched his fist and his pupils jumped wildly behind his lids. He pictured Sway’s face, pictured his gentle touch. His brother held him steady, continuously counting his breaths.

“Shit. He’s turning blue.” Dana’s voice was controlled but Brian heard the fear and concern. “I’m calling an ambulance.”

“No!” Ford barked at his lover. “He can do this.” Ford gripped Brian by his coat and dragged him forward. “Come on, Brian. Focus, dammit.”

Brian felt the edges of his world dimming. Sway’s voice filtered through his fear. ‘Everything about you calls to me. Your strength.’

“Breathe. One, two, three.”

Sway.

“That’s it. Again.” Ford sounded like a drill sergeant. “Breathe. One, two—”

Sway.

Brian’s next breath was a little clearer than the last and his world began to tilt upright.

“Good. Again.”

Brian slowly opened his wet eyes, his brother’s face not as hazy as it was. His heart rate slowed as he clutched his big brother’s shoulders. They’d always held him steady in the past, he trusted they would now. Brian climbed out of the truck, with his brother’s help, and gulped more fresh air. After a few minutes, Ford stopped Brian’s clipped pacing and watched him expectantly. Brian just noticed the other cars blaring past them while they stood on the side of the road. When he turned, Ford shook his head sadly at him. His brother wanted an explanation but Brian couldn’t give him one.

“Why won’t you tell me what’s going on? What do you keep panicking about?” Ford asked gruffly. “Maybe I can help you. You used to ask for my advice.”

Brian squeezed Ford’s shoulder, trying to reassure him. But, he wouldn’t tell him that he was terrified of losing his boyfriend. Terrified of losing the first real connection he’d made with a man since he’d returned home. Brian was petrified of losing the only man in the world who understood what he had to say. Brian moved towards the truck and nodded for his brother to get in the driver’s seat. Ford looked just as disappointed as Sway had when he’d left this morning. He was fucking up again. Dammit! Brian slammed the door so hard Dana jumped a mile high. Ford spun and shot him a scowl. Brian turned away until Ford put the truck in gear.

As they drove back to the hotel to speak with the room service associate, Brian stared out of the window and organized his jumbled thoughts. He and Colton had already discussed this. The panic attacks, the flashbangers and flashbacks were all results of him trying to control something that he had no control over. The future. He couldn’t keep panicking about what was going to happen down the road. With his voice, with his relationship, with his job. He’d learned to live in the now. He needed to get one thing clear with Sway before he got too far gone in his heart for him. Was a future with him contingent upon him talking again? Surely Sway would immediately and without hesitation say ‘no! Absolutely not’, but if Brian was in front of him when he asked it… he’d see clear through any deceit. Like a damn human polygraph.

With a plan set, his head didn’t thrum quite so hard.

Ford pulled around to the service entrance for the restaurant and parked beside Duke’s F350 pickup. Duke was still inside probably listening to E Street Radio while Quick was leaning against the tailgate, talking on his cell. Obviously, they’d beaten them there since they’d had to make an impromptu stop. Brian got out of the car before his brother or Dana could turn and ask him if he was still up for this. He was running front man on the recovery, since it was his plan. Of course he was up for it. Brian would always do his job.

Walking up to his bosses, Brian gave them a quick nod. Quick pointed to the ankle, then gave him a thumbs up. Brian nodded again. Yeah, he was healthy and ready to work. Anything to not think of the difficult conversation he was about to have with his boyfriend after this.

Brian waited until Ford was beside him before he began to sign, “I text the Chef. They’re waiting for us.”

They headed to the service entrance of LaRoy’s. Brian banged a couple of times on the steel door, then pushed the buzzer beside the knob. After a few seconds Brian raised his hand and got in one more knock when the door swung open and the handsome chef stood there gaping at them as if they were crazy.

“Jesus. You knock like bounty hunters.” The chef waved for all of them to come in. “I heard you the first time.”

The chef led them through the large, state of the art kitchen. The few employees there prepping food, watched them curiously as they traipsed through their immaculate work space in steel-toe boots and well-worn leather. They followed Chef John into the dining room, since his office was too small to accommodate all of them. He moved through his establishment with confidence and poise, which wasn’t easy for a man of his size walking with five giants on his heels. John pointed to a set of tables that weren’t covered with sparkling white linen and the chairs pushed to the side. They didn’t need to sit. This wasn’t a conference. It was more like a powwow.

Brian introduced everyone, then got right down to business. There was no time for chitchats and, frankly, he wasn’t in the mood and his team was never in the mood. It was eight in the morning, all of them had places to go and things to do, Brian was sure the chef did as well. “Is your server here?”

“Yes.” John turned and waved his hand over his head, signaling for someone. “He’s ready. I didn’t tell him too much, just that you wanted him to view a couple photos and answer some questions.”

They waited for the lanky server to make his way through the dining room.

Chef turned to them, his white coat gleaming as if it was fresh from the cleaners. “You gentlemen can sit down if you like. Can I get you any coffee? I have an arrangement of breakfast pastries.”

They all declined the food and continued to stand. The chef seemed as if he didn’t understand, glancing back and forth between them.

“Gentlemen?” Quick snorted under his breath, making Duke chuckle and apologize.

“No, thank you. You’ve done more than enough already,” Duke said graciously. Out of all of the roughnecks, Duke was the most tactful. “We don’t wanna be a bother. My guys’ll be outta your hair real fast.”

“Oh, it’s no bother,” The chef piped in eagerly. “Sharon. Bring the assortment and coffee, please.”

“Hey if the man says it’s no bother then don’t be rude, fellas.” Dana grinned, rubbing his greedy hands again. It appeared as if he was becoming a fan of Chef John. “Don’t know about ya’ll, but I haven’t had breakfast.”

Ford turned sharply towards Dana. Even through Ford’s irritated glare, the love for his partner shone through.

The young server turned the corner and stumbled when he got a good look at them. “Hello. I’m Marlow Jones. Chef says you want me to identify someone.” He might’ve walked timidly and needed to straighten his spine when he entered a room; but, the kid’s voice was deep and confident.

“If you can, that’d help us a lot.” Duke stepped forward. He took a five-by-seven of the jumper he’d gotten off the internet—not wanting to show a kid a mugshot—and held it in front of him. “Do you recognize him?”

Marlow darted his head up quickly and nodded. “Yes. I recognize him. He’s ordered plenty of times. Lousy tipper.”

Duke turned and checked his team. They were all probably thinking the same thing. Let’s get this fucker now! But, Brian didn’t want to appear too ready and scare the young man, so he was relieved when Duke turned back and in an even tone asked, “What’s his room number? Do you remember his name?”

The kid bit his bottom lip and shook his head. “We rarely pay attention to names and he switches rooms every time he stays. He doesn’t stay in the same one. I’ve delivered to him on the eighth, twelfth, second, even in the penthouse once. I don’t really know.”

“Does he have a regular time he orders?” Duke asked.

“Um no. Kinda random,” The boy said.

“We only provide lunch and dinner for room service, so the time frame is between four and eleven.” The chef added.

Brian noted that window of time.

“What days did he order last week?” Quick asked.

“He didn’t.” The boy glanced up and to the right while he remembered. “I mean he probably ordered out. Lots of places deliver to this hotel, too. I’m sorry. I really didn’t pay that close attention to the guy.”

Duke waved off the boy’s distress. “This is good. You’re doing great, Marlow, this all helps a lot.”

“You’ll make a damn good bounty hunter with that eidetic memory, man.” Quick gave him a fist bump and the kid regarded each of them, taking in their clothes and gear…and beamed proudly.

Brian knew the young man was telling the truth by the way he racked his brain to give Duke the answers he wanted. He was small, maybe bullied a bit in high school, always wanted to walk the halls with the bigger guys. Whenever Duke or Quick complimented Marlow on the answers he gave, his backbone firmed just a bit more. Brian nodded subtly to his brother when he turned to him for confirmation. Marlow wasn’t lying.

“How do we know he’s here now, not jumping hotels?” Dana frowned.

Duke turned to Brian. “Thoughts?”

“He’s not jumping hotels, he’s just jumping rooms. I seriously doubt he’ll have this kind of in-house assistance at another hotel,” Ford translated for him. “Remember, this isn’t a typical thug we got. This guy has years of Ivy League schooling. He may be privileged and sheltered but he’s still smart. I would hop rooms too and use an alias each time. We stick with the plan.”

Duke and Quick both agreed.

Marlow stared at Brian like he was the Incredible Hulk. Brian tried to give him an encouraging look, but he was sure there was no smile or even tilt to his lips. He was pissed and tired. He’d been hoping to put an end to this damn case today. Now, it had become a whole operation.

Duke ran down Brian’s plan for the server. That all he had to do was notify Chef John when the guy placed another room service order. They could be there in less than thirty minutes, which would work, since delivery time for room service was roughly half an hour to forty-five minutes at dinnertime. Chef John was to alert only the minimum number of staff needed. Their team would enter through the kitchen, hurry along the back side of the restaurant—hopefully unseen—then up the west stairwell. Exiting that way would eliminate annoying hotel security, lobby cameras, overzealous ‘post junkies’ who loved to shove cell phone cameras into their faces when they rushed by with a jumper. All the things Duke avoided, if possible.

Marlow swallowed and raised his eyes to Duke.

“You got a question?” Duke’s posture was casual and open.

Marlow worked not to fidget, his eyes darting to Quick then to Duke. “This guy ain’t like dangerous or whatever? You said he’s Ivy League… but. Shit, I’ve seen American Psycho. This guy won’t go batshit, with an actual bat will he? Or you guys wouldn’t be two minutes too late like cops always are, will ya?”

Duke didn’t laugh at the kid but Dana sure didn’t hold it in. Ford elbowed Dana in his side, almost making him spit out crumbs from the blueberry scone he was wolfing down.

Dana balked, “What you hitting me for? Kid’s right. Cops do be late as hell.”

That did bring a crook to Brian’s lip. The young man was funny and wise to ask that question. He understood he should never volunteer assistance or go headfirst into a dangerous situation and not make absolute sure he was one-hundred percent protected. It couldn’t’ve been easy for Marlow to ask that given his present company.

Quick stepped forward. “We’re never late. Ever.”

“All you’ll do is knock,” Duke spoke as if this would be a piece of cake. “He’ll be less than two feet away from you, beside the door.” He pointed at Brian. “So will the other guys. When Clarkson looks through the peephole and sees you, he’ll start to unlock the door and you’ll be removed before he even opens it.”

“Who will remove him?” The chef asked this time.

Brian pointed at himself and Marlow looked fine with that. “Okay then. Let’s do this.”

After a few more details were outlined, the guys ate some more of John’s pastries and drank his expensive coffee, not wanting to keep refusing when he was offering up his prestigious establishment to help them. Trust. That didn’t happen often. They were usually shunned. People hated bounty hunters, especially the way they sometimes tore up shit.

In the parking lot, Duke gave everyone strict instructions that they were all on immediate call from three to midnight. Available no matter what. That meant Brian couldn’t be at Sway’s because he didn’t live close enough to the hotel and Sway wouldn’t be able to come to his place because of the hours. Duke would be expecting them to be in the office waiting on the call and working on their backup plan. This wasn’t what his and Sway’s relationship needed, but this was their reality. It was best to put everything out there now.

“You going back to the office with us?” Ford asked Brian once they were back in his truck.

“No. Take me to the hospital. I got some business to handle.”

Ford narrowed his eyes. “You think that’s a good idea?”

Brian could tell Ford suspected that Sway was the cause of his panic attacks but he didn’t know what he was talking about and needed to let him run his life.

“Babe,” Dana murmured in the front seat. “He’s got this. Let B do his thing.”

Ford tightened his jaw and drove his truck in the direction of Emory Hospital. He let Brian out in the visitor’s lot, his mouth twitching as if he had more to say, but he refrained. Brian was glad he had Dana on his side. He’d said it time and again. Dana was going to make an amazing brother-in-law.

“I’ll be back by three.” Brian slammed the door and fastened the middle button of his coat. The chilly air blasted his face, cooling him. He took a minute to gather what he was going to say before he went inside. He bypassed the help desk and went directly to the elevators, pushing the floor for Nephrology.