15
The sanctuary.
Killian’s emotions were still raw and difficult to decipher. Last night, it was as if he had walked across a freshly frozen lake, waiting for the ice to give under him at any moment before reaching Nick on the other side. He had opened himself up as much as possible, showing far more vulnerability than he thought he was capable of. And Nick had stood on the other side of that metaphorical lake, waiting for him with open arms.
He needed some coffee but refused to move from his spot on the couch, stifling another yawn as he looked down at his lap. He slid his fingers through the silky hair in a rhythmic stroke he hoped wouldn’t wake Nick, smiling when a random strand of gold captured the morning light streaming in through the blinds. He tucked the blanket higher, under Nick’s chin to keep him warm as he peacefully slept.
Nick stirred, shifting on the couch and wrapping his arm around Killian’s thighs as if seeking more comfort from the pillow.
Killian’s body instantly took notice. He willed his body to calm, hoping his hard-on didn’t poke Nick’s eye out. How could this man send his heart and body in a tailspin so easily?
“What time is it?” Nick mumbled, pushing up on the couch to sit. He rubbed his eyes and rested his head on Killian’s shoulder, a simple gesture that made Killian’s pulse race.
“It’s almost nine. You slept through the night.” He couldn’t resist pressing a kiss to Nick’s forehead and sliding an arm around his shoulders, pulling him closer.
“Mmm. So this is what it feels like to get a good night’s sleep. I couldn’t remember.”
“You snore.”
“No, I don’t.” Nick pushed at Killian’s chest. He leaned back against the side of the couch and crossed his arms, his eyes still heavy with sleep. “Was I loud?”
Killian raised his hand, holding his thumb and index finger close together with an inch of space between them. “Maybe a little bit.”
Nick shoved him with a laugh, yanking the blanket off his body as he stood and strolled to his bedroom.
Killian pushed off the couch and walked into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. He pulled out two mugs just as Nick rejoined him in the kitchen a few minutes later. Killian busied himself, taking out the milk and sugar Nick would need for his java concoction. Their discussion from the night before cycled in his mind, over and over again.
“I wish I were a mind reader.”
Killian glanced up, smiling in response to the relaxed grin on Nick’s face. “Why’s that?”
“Because you have a million things spinning in your head right now.”
Killian hid a smile as he poured coffee into the two mugs. “If you don’t have plans, I’d…like to take you somewhere.” He mixed in the milk and sugar and handed Nick his cup.
Nick took a sip, grinning up at him. “I’m yours to take wherever you want.”
He groaned. Nick was a fucking tease. Killian’s arm was healed enough, but last night’s discussion kept his libido firmly in check.
“Where do you want to take me?”
“It’s top secret,” Killian said, sipping his coffee.
“No hints?”
“No. And I’ll need to blindfold you for part of the trip.”
“Really?” Nick raised an eyebrow. “Mmm. Interesting.”
Killian swallowed heavily, wondering if that sound was because of the coffee or the temptation. “I need to make a few phone calls. But plan on leaving within the hour. Pack an overnight bag.”
“What do I wear?”
Nothing, he thought, pausing for a moment to voice a more acceptable response. “Something comfortable. It’ll be warm.”
He closed his eyes when Nick stepped forward and pressed into his body. “I might not be a mind reader, but I do know what you were thinking a second ago.”
Killian steeled his features. “What’s that?”
Nick planted his hands on Killian’s hips and pulled him closer, their bodies aligning too perfectly to hold in the groan. A tortured moan escaped when Nick leaned in and nibbled the unshaved skin along his jawline, tempting, teasing him, and chipping away at his defenses the way no other man ever could.
“I know your arm is better. So wherever we’re going better have one bed.”
Killian captured Nick’s lips, devouring his mouth in a heated kiss. With safety and privacy at the forefront of his mind, he had never shared—or ever considered sharing—a bed with another man.
Until now.
But Nick wasn’t just “another” man. He stirred Killian’s soul and forced him to sit back and wonder why his heart skipped a beat and his skin twitched with each touch.
There was a lot he wanted to say, but didn’t have a clue where to start or how to voice things. But he hoped showing Nick would help.
In the back of his mind, Killian wished the visit would steer Nick’s decision regarding his future. After all, Killian was still semi-human and could dream like everyone else for a happily ever after.
═ ☼ ═
Nick peered out the small seaplane window in awe. He had worn the blindfold in the car and for a few minutes of the flight. Now, without the silk material covering his eyes, he could stare at the endless shades of blue surrounding him. The ocean’s water, a rich, deep blend of sapphire and navy mixed with the cloudless cornflower sky above offered a level of serenity he hadn’t ever experienced.
“It’s beautiful.” His breath came quickly, seeing the water race directly below them as the plane flew close to the surface. He turned toward Ian in the pilot’s seat. His eyebrows twitched, trying to decipher the intensity of the man’s expression. “What’s wrong?”
Ian’s jaw muscles tensed, but his focus never wavered from the ocean ahead. He pressed a few buttons overhead then placed his hand on a lever at his side, gripping the handle and slowly pushing it forward.
Nick looked ahead, squinting toward the horizon, finally seeing a line of trees and a hint of land at a distance. “Are those trees?”
“Yes.”
The floats of the seaplane touched the surface of the water and slowed their approach, the island growing in size with each second. Beautiful almost-white sand led to a ring of palms and other large trees. Ian carefully steered the seaplane in the water toward a small alcove at the side of the island. The sand’s edge and trees hooking into a “C” shape, providing a space to tuck the plane away from view of a passerby. Nick glanced around, taking in as much as he could from all sides of the small plane’s windows. “We’re hidden here.”
“Yes.”
Ian pressed a few more buttons and the plane’s engine and propellers stopped, leaving only the sound of the water hitting the seaplane’s floats echoing between them. Ian remained seated in the pilot’s seat, looking ahead at the island, as if lost in thought.
Nick turned his entire body toward him, waiting, knowing a battle waged war in Ian’s mind. Ian would share his thoughts when he was ready, and not a second sooner.
“I trust you,” Ian finally whispered, his voice hoarse and thick with emotion.
Nick’s breath hitched, knowing trust was something rare in Ian’s world. He stilled when those ice-blue eyes focused on him, the blue rivaling the color of the transparent shallow water and the vivid clear sky.
“It’s why you’re here.”
“Where’s here?” Nick asked. It was obviously an island, but Ian’s hesitation proved it was much more than a pretty setting in the middle of an ocean.
Ian unclipped his seat belt and removed his shoes and socks. Nick quickly did the same, knowing a response would come when the man felt comfortable enough to voice a reply. Ian stepped on the plane’s float then into the shallow water. He walked around the plane to Nick’s side before reaching into the back and grabbing a large box while Nick took care of hauling their overnight bags.
Dex emerged from a path within the trees to greet them. A huge smile spread across his features, switching his attention between them. “Glad to see you’re not alone.”
Ian didn’t respond and the hardness in his expression remained firmly in place. He set the large box into Dex’s waiting arms, not uttering a single word, then took the bags from Nick.
Dex looked over to Nick, ignoring Ian’s silence. “I’m happy you stayed. You’re going to love it here.”
Nick cocked his head. Stay? Did he think Nick would leave Ian’s side after the bullet graze the other night? Or did he mean the island?
“We’re flying out tomorrow.”
Dex’s smile faltered. “Both of you?”
Ian nodded.
“You’re a fucking idiot,” Dex said with a sneer before turning and disappearing into the trees, lifting sand with each obviously annoyed step.
Nick walked ahead and stood in Ian’s path. He reached out and cupped Ian’s face, hoping to calm the turmoil simmering in his eyes. “You said you trusted me.”
Ian nodded.
“Then tell me…what’s this all about?”
Ian closed his eyes and leaned into Nick’s palm. “I’m not good at talking about stuff.”
“Hmm.” Nick raised a teasing eyebrow. “I hadn’t noticed.”
A tiny huff of a chuckle escaped Ian, finally easing the tension in his shoulders. “There’s a lot about me you don’t know. I thought it might be easier to show you than attempt to explain things.” He swallowed heavily, struggling with his words. “I probably shouldn’t have brought you here. It’s dangerous.”
“For me?”
Ian shook his head.
Nick took his bag from Ian and slung it over his shoulder. He slid his hand into Ian’s, smiling when Ian threaded their fingers together and tightened his hold.
They silently walked along the marked path. Nick didn’t know what lay ahead of them behind the wall of trees, but he wouldn’t deny his heart pounded with anticipation at the thought of discovering another layer to the mysterious man at his side.
After an hour of sitting on his perch, Nick was still speechless. The beauty of the island was breathtaking—the small, fully functional village hidden within the trees was definitely something he hadn’t expected. A private world. A sanctuary of sorts. The small houses weren’t built of twigs and mud or other earthly ingredients. They were small, sturdy structures of concrete, homes just as those found on the mainland, but without the flashy additions. They were functional and spacious, not extravagant or ostentatious. Men and women walked together, sat together, and lounged together. All in casual attire as if it were an everyday occurrence. But this wasn’t a vacation getaway.
This was the place they called home.
Nick shifted in his seat, a comfortable patio chair under an umbrella. He wasn’t sure what he had expected, but it certainly hadn’t been what he had witnessed for the last hour. He had been introduced to a few people, but some needed no introduction.
“Hi, I’m Chris,” the man had said, extending his hand in greeting.
Nick gaped, unable to believe his eyes. Christopher Weatherly stood before him. The young, talented CEO of a multibillion-dollar technology company. A tech giant. He had launched his business from the garage of their newlywed home, trying to see if his latest project would stick and help them scrape by. His rags to riches story had hit every magazine and lifestyle program and his name had been repeatedly listed among the world’s most successful entrepreneurs. His face had become the symbol of the American dream.
Until his plane had crashed into a mountain seven years ago, on his way to a business trip destined to secure a merger that would have propelled him to the top of all the business charts as the wealthiest man alive.
Nick shook his head, still shocked by that introduction and several others that had followed. He took a deep breath, watching Chris sit with his wife, chatting with a few other couples by the fire pit that doubled as a village barbecue for lunch. Other couples who had marked their absence from society with similar tragedies in the last few years.
Yet, here they were, smiling, laughing, and joking with each other.
Very much alive.
Ian excused himself from a small group and walked over to him, taking the seat next to him. He slid his hand into Nick’s, tugging their clasped hands and setting it on his thigh. “You have questions.”
“About a million of them.” He turned toward Ian, his expression more at peace than it had been when they’d arrived a little over an hour ago. “Why did you say being here was dangerous?”
“It is. For them.” Ian tightened his grip on their hands. “And me.”
“You mean…if I were to tell someone they were alive?”
Ian nodded.
“I don’t know what’s happening here.” He squeezed Ian’s hand. “I need you to fill in the blanks.”
Ian looked up, squinting with the afternoon sun. “I was hired to kill them.”
Nick inhaled sharply, the pieces starting to fall into place. “And the people who hired you think you completed the contracts.”
A nod confirmed his line of thinking.
“So if it were discovered that their targets were alive, those people who had paid for their deaths would obviously issue another contract on them.”
Another nod. “And on me for lying to them.”
Nick looked at the villagers, smiling, full of life and happiness. “Why did you spare them?”
“They’re innocents.” Ian’s lips thinned to a straight line. “I’m sure they’re not saints, but I know they’re not evil. They were a threat to a few greedy people, not to the safety of others.”
“You could have declined the contract.”
“I used to do that.” He ducked his head, scowling as his jaw muscles tensed. “But they just sent someone else to do the job.” He released Nick’s hand, choosing instead to clasp his own hands together, shuttering his emotions.
Nick was already familiar with Ian’s body language when he struggled to open up while trying to keep himself guarded. He couldn’t imagine the weight on Ian’s shoulders. He had tried to do something positive, but he couldn’t stop a ball once it had been set in motion. Nick looked around, feeling an odd sense of peace spread in his chest. “So this is your way of sparing them.”
“Something like that. I guess.”
“And they just willingly came here? To stay forever?”
“Willing, yes. I would never force someone here. I spoke to them and discussed options.”
Nick turned toward Ian, hiding a smile. “What did you say? ‘It’s your head or an island. Pick one.’”
A slow—and very judgy—eyebrow climbed up Ian’s forehead. “Is that really how you think I’d approach them?”
“Of course not.” Nick bumped Ian's shoulder and laughed, hoping to lighten his mood. He wistfully sighed at the blatant joy on everyone’s face. “But I am curious.”
“I casually approached them and started a conversation.”
“You had an actual conversation?” Nick inched back with a smirk on his face. “You spoke full and long sentences for extended periods of time?”
Ian chuckled. “You’re a real comedian.” He ducked his head and shrugged, a smile lingering on his lips. “The chat was about them, not me. So it was easy.”
“Ah.” Nick reached over and grabbed Ian’s chin between his fingers, placing a tender kiss on his lips. “I’m glad you can chat with me about you. Even when it’s not easy.”
They stared at each other for a few moments, silently acknowledging their exchange from the night before and all the truths they had shared. Ian looked out into the crowd by the fire pit as he spoke. “When reminded of their mortality, people prioritize what’s valuable. I was surprised when I spoke to each of them. Most people would assume they were hungry for more money.” He shook his head, almost in disbelief. “Each new innovation generated more demands and requirements. One thing they all shared in common…their passion was gone. Their creativity had become suffocated by expectations. But they were so entrenched in that life, they didn’t know how to escape.”
“And that’s what you offered them. A way out?”
“I asked them if they would accept the alternative if it were an option.” Ian turned his head to the side and gave him a smartass look. “Hypothetically, of course.”
“Of course.” Nick chuckled. “And? Did they all say yes?”
“Hmm.” Ian nodded in agreement. He looked out to the people sitting around the fire pit, laughing together. He remained quiet, observing everyone. Nick wondered if Ian experienced joy or relief at knowing he played a role in their happiness. Ian held back a grin as Dex playfully snuck up behind a young woman, then spun her around in his arms for an embrace.
“Is that Dex’s girlfriend?”
“Alyssa.” Ian nodded. “Poor girl fell for him the moment she arrived here three years ago. He prefers to be here with her, but stays with me when he makes a supply run or when I’ve got a job. She’s Greg’s daughter.” He craned his neck, pointing out the older gentleman sitting at a table with two other young ladies. “He has three daughters. He lost his wife in a car accident two months before his arrival here. He always suspected it wasn’t really an accident and thought his competitors figured he’d step away from the business when she died. Instead, he buried himself in his work. So the timing of me getting offered his contract made him nervous. He asked if he could bring his daughters. He couldn’t take the loss of leaving his kids behind, and he didn’t want them to have to deal with the loss of another parent so soon after. So they’re all here.”
“You bring entire families?”
“Sometimes.” He shrugged. “Just takes more planning and time so it’s not as obvious.”
“And no one can leave?”
“Dex and I are the only ones who come and go as needed. The ones who were targeted can’t…for obvious reasons. But their families are free to leave if they wish. For all intents and purposes, they just went on an extended trip to grieve their loved ones. But if they do choose to leave, they can’t come back. I won’t take that risk.”
Nick rested his chin on Ian’s shoulder, hoping to pull him from this odd air of melancholy surrounding him. “So you bought an island?”
Ian angled toward him, barely a breath away. “I had enough to buy the island a while ago, but not enough to sustain it long term. At least, not for this. Long story short, Chris was the first resident and became a silent partner. He helped me iron out the details of this crazy idea.”
Nick reached up and ran his fingers along Ian’s jawline. “You’re a good man, Killian Marks.”
“I’m not.” Ian inched forward, closing the distance between them to press a tender kiss to his lips. “But that doesn’t stop me from trying to be one.” They were close enough for their lips to brush together in a passing caress, sharing the same breath of air. “I want to show you something.”
They stood from the chairs, waving at a few of the people as they walked away from the gathering and down another path through the trees. Birds chirped overhead, but overall, their trek was silent as they walked along the dirt road.
“There are more houses over here?” Nick asked, recognizing the small concrete buildings.
Ian nodded. “This is the original side. We started small. I didn’t think this idea would work, but Chris is a visionary. He had finally accomplished his goal of making his first billion, but he hated the strain it added to his marriage. He wanted to escape the rat race.” He huffed out a chuckle. “You can take the visionary out of the rat race, but you can’t ever take the visionary out of the man.”
They broke through the trees into a small clearing. Nick had already taken a tour of the small village when they had arrived, but he hadn’t seen everything in great detail. This side of the community seemed slightly smaller, with the flowers and shrubs grown in more fully.
“He took my small idea and blew it up to what you’ve already seen.”
Two large, weathered posts marked a different entrance to the small cluster of houses. An oversized carved wood sign cut through the sky, connecting the posts. Nick squinted against the sun, wishing they had the cover of trees in the small clearing to block out the brightness so he could absorb every detail. He focused on the flowers planted along the edge of the path, hoping to avoid the sting of the sun in his eyes.
He looked up when Ian halted, stopping before the entrance, the angle of the sun blocked just right behind the sign. His eyes adjusted and his breath hitched, reading the carved words. Nico’s Sanctuary. A swell of emotions bloomed in his chest. His gaze snapped to Ian, searching his features, trying to find answers to the million questions racing in his mind.
“You inspired this.” Ian swallowed heavily, his voice barely a whisper. “I…” He looked down, shoving the edge of his shoe into the dirt. “I always wondered if you found someone who kept you safe.”
“I did.” Nick paused, seeing the relief wash away the tension in Ian’s body. “You.”
Ian’s gaze slowly swept upward from that random spot on the ground to his face.
“You protected me that night and told me exactly what to do to find someone who would keep me safe.” He placed his hand on Ian’s chest and pressed his palm against the talisman under his shirt. “You were always there for me.”
Ian swallowed heavily, a cyclone of emotions sweeping across his features and shimmering in his eyes.
“You were my sanctuary.” Nick threw his arms around Ian’s neck, screwing his eyes shut, trying to control the stampede in his chest. He would never forget how his angel had protected him that night or the gift that had become his good luck charm over the years, offering comfort and strength when he needed it most.
He slid his hand up the back of Ian’s neck and cupped his head, holding him close, reveling in the peace and silence of the island, and the strength and safety of the arms surrounding him.