I’d been staring at those three words for over twenty-four hours now, ever since Tor had sent them when I’d gotten to work Monday. I hadn’t responded, not yet, because with Brayden in my ear and monitoring my every move, I was conflicted. But the truth was that I missed Tor. Being away from Brayden’s influence and getting back to my work routine had only made me realize how much.

I wanted to see him. I wanted to talk, to tell him we were okay, that I forgave him for what he did so he needed to stop blaming himself. And I wanted to know more about the man himself. Why he’d changed his name, what his life was like growing up. I wanted to know it all. I was in too deep to walk away now, and what was more… I didn’t want to. There was a big, gaping hole in my chest that was physically painful, and it was one that could only be filled by the man I couldn’t stop thinking about. The man I almost…loved.

I miss you too, I typed. Can I see you tonight?

The reply was almost immediate: Yes.

Okay. I’ll come by your place after work.

That would please me very much, little lamb.

The hours passed by slowly, as they always did when you were counting them down. I tried to stay focused on my research, but I kept catching my mind drifting off to the events of the past few days. I’d ended up staying at Brayden’s house all weekend, and he’d driven me to and from work, but I’d begged off tonight, telling him I had to work late and a coworker would drop me off. I’d known full well what I’d be doing, but Brayden wouldn’t understand. For some reason, he was more convinced than ever that Tor wasn’t good for me, and I’d given up trying to tell him otherwise. He meant well, but he didn’t know Tor like I did, and he didn’t know our relationship. He wasn’t a part of it, so as much as I appreciated him looking out for me, I couldn’t listen to him talk shit about Tor anymore. I could make up my own mind.

At five on the dot, I was grabbing my bag and rushing out of the museum. Tor’s place wasn’t too far, but I was in a hurry, so I shelled out a few crumpled dollars for a cab and made it to his building by ten after. As I took the elevator up, my palms were sweaty, and I hadn’t even noticed how hard I was breathing. It was as if I was meeting him for the first time all over again, and I wasn’t sure what to expect. Would he be glad to see me? Would he still be angry? Or would he be giving me an “it was good while it lasted” speech? I hadn’t even thought about that. What if he decided it was getting too much like a relationship and wanted to cut ties before it went that far? The thought did nothing to slow my heart rate as the elevator doors opened and I came face to face with the man I’d spent every waking hour thinking about since I met him.

Wearing a suit with no tie or jacket, and with his hands in his pockets, Tor looked at me, gauging my reaction. He was more handsome than I remembered, if that was possible, but I could see a flash of longing in his eyes, and without another thought, I launched myself at him, throwing my arms around his neck, and he greeted me by pulling me in tight.

“I’m sorry,” I said, and it was an apology for several things in one: scaring him, leaving him, not responding to him. Doubting him even for a second.

“I’m the one who’s sorry,” he said, his voice rough as his strong arms held me against him. Then his hand came up to the back of my neck and brought my lips to his, and I melted, falling into him like it’d been months, not days, since I’d seen him last. Though his mouth was crushed to mine, as passionate and forceful as ever, there was something else there too. A sort of warmth that made my heart stutter. All too soon, Tor was letting me go so I could catch my breath.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Tor murmured against my neck, making me shiver. “I wasn’t sure you’d ever want to see me again.”

“Of course I wanted to see you. I knew you were upset, so I was giving you space, but when you didn’t call or text, I thought…”

Tor pulled back, holding me by the arms. “You thought what?”

“I thought…” I bit down on my lip before telling him the worry that had been tripping up my stomach since I’d left Saturday. “That maybe you were done with me. Like you’d realize I didn’t belong in your world anymore.”

Tor reared back like I’d slapped him, and then he slowly began to shake his head. “No. No, my little lamb. I would never give you up so easily.”

Warmth spread through my body at his words, but I still felt the disappointment that he hadn’t even tried to reach me. “I thought you had. You didn’t call or text or anything.”

“Ah. So Brayden didn’t tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

“That I called.”

“You did? When?”

“Sunday. He answered and let me know in no uncertain terms that you didn’t want to hear from me or see me.”

My mind reeled. “But…why would he say that?” I said, even though I knew full well why. Brayden didn’t want me anywhere near Tor, and apparently, he’d taken to intercepting my phone calls when I’d stepped out of the room. “I didn’t know. I never said that, I swear.”

“Hmm.” Tor took a step back, his hands back in his pockets.

“He’s just being overprotective, that’s all.”

“I see.” Tor walked over to the wall of windows and looked out at the fog-ridden city as Faolán trotted over and nuzzled his head into Tor’s hand. “I suppose if he didn’t tell you I called, then he definitely didn’t tell you I stopped by.”

“You what? When? Where? At Brayden’s?”

Tor looked over his shoulder at me and lifted an eyebrow. “That’s where you were, wasn’t it?”

“Well, yes, but—”

“I assumed, since he answered your phone and you weren’t at your apartment, that you were with him.”

“But how did you know where he lived?”

“You had my driver take you there,” he said with a shrug. “And even if you hadn’t, Brayden’s a member of the Wolfe’s Den. I could’ve found his address on the paperwork.”

Of course. I hadn’t thought of that. “Wait, so you came to see me at Brayden’s and I didn’t know about it? What did he say?”

“Let’s just say your friend has very strong opinions about what you may or may not want.”

What the hell, Bray? I’m gonna kill him. “My friend doesn’t speak for me.” I crossed over to Tor but stopped just short of touching him. Instead, I let Faolán sniff my hand, and then I stroked down the long line of his back. “I’m sorry he did that.”

Tor turned to face me, his eyes piercing. “No matter. You’re here now.”

“I am. And I thought we could…talk.”

“Yes. I think we shou—” The distant sound of a phone ringing had Tor’s eyes traveling over my shoulder down the hallway. “I apologize. You caught me as I was finishing up an important transaction. Give me five minutes? Then I’m yours.”

I’m yours… That was promising. A man who wanted to end things wouldn’t say “I’m yours,” would he? No. No, he would not. I nodded and gave him a small smile. “Take your time.”

“Five minutes. No more,” he said, and then strode across the vast space, but when he got to the hallway, he looked over his shoulder. “Coming?”

It hadn’t even occurred to me to follow and listen in on his work calls, and I quickly scurried after him, leaving Faolán to curl back up in his bed. Tor led me into what had to be his office, judging by the ornate dark wood desk that he moved behind to answer the still-ringing phone. He gestured for me to sit, and I saw I had my pick of one of the two chairs in front of the desk, or the overstuffed leather couch that backed up to a corner and had a small coffee table in front of it. None of those things, however, were what had my attention. That honor belonged to the three enormous television screens that, combined, took up almost the entire wall.

Jeez, what does he need three freakin’ televisions in one room for? I barely even had one that worked, and it was the size of a legal pad.

“Security and the stock market,” Tor said, answering my unspoken question, and when I looked back at him, he had the phone to his ear, but he was watching me with amusement dancing in his eyes.

Yeah, I wouldn’t want his job. I’ll stick to museums, I thought, and took a seat in one of the chairs in front of the desk while I admired Tor. The sleeves of his button-up were rolled up, showcasing his strong, tanned forearms, and his hair was styled back, though one piece fell in his face, and somehow, that small bit of disarray was profoundly sexy. As he ran his fingers through his hair, pushing back the stray, his eyes caught on mine, catching my perusal, and he smirked.

God, even his smirk is sexy.

Tor kept his gaze on me as he spoke, totally in control of the conversation, which sounded a lot like gibberish to me, not that I was paying much attention to the words coming out of his mouth. I was just paying attention to his mouth, and what I hoped it would do to me later.

“That’s fine, John. Send me the papers and I’ll look them over tomorrow.” Tor set the phone back on the cradle and rounded the desk to sit on the edge of it with me between his legs. Then he lifted his hand and traced my face with his fingers, as if he was familiarizing himself with me all over again. “You’re so beautiful, my lamb.”

I put my hand over his and turned my face to kiss his palm, and he responded by leaning forward to press his lips against my forehead. Then he nuzzled his nose against my hair and took a deep inhale before pulling back.

“Why don’t you go make yourself comfortable over on the couch? I’ll get us a couple of drinks, and then we can talk.”

Smiling, I nodded my agreement, and then Tor pushed off the desk and headed back out to the kitchen.

Brayden had no idea of this side of Tor, the affectionate side he never seemed to show to anyone else. It was just as much of a turn-on as the dominant side of him, and I loved that there was such a dichotomy.

I chuckled to myself at the comparison, which was surely what Brayden thought about Tor, and as I got to my feet, I tripped over the claw foot of the desk and went tumbling forward. Before I hit the ground, I reached out toward the desk for something to grab to stop my fall, but whatever it was my hands had landed on wasn’t anything stable, and as it came loose, I crashed onto the floor, narrowly avoiding hitting my head on the wood.

Jesus, you clumsy ass, I thought, as I lifted myself up, making sure I hadn’t done any permanent damage. Nope, no pain, not even a scratch, and as I sighed and got to my knees to pick up and put back the paperweight and remote control I’d moved off Tor’s desk, something flickered out of the corner of my eye.

When I looked to my left, all three of the television screens were on, and what I saw on them had my blood running cold and the breath leaving my lungs.

Oh my God… Oh my fucking God.

On one of the screens was a zoomed-in image of me, and from the designer suit I was wearing, it had been taken the first night I’d walked into the Wolfe’s Den. Had that been all that was on the screen, I wouldn’t have thought twice. In fact, I would’ve been flattered. But it was the other photos that had bile rising in my throat.

The second screen was a hazy photo of a boy in his teens, and at first glance, I thought it was me. But that boy wasn’t wearing a shirt, and there were bars pierced through his nipples. Whoever that was wasn’t me, but he was so eerily similar, even down to his haircut, that he could’ve been my twin.

That’s Lee. Lee Wood. It has to be. That woman at the café had been right—we were the spitting image of each other. Tor had a type, and it was fair-haired, lean, and innocent-looking, although the piercings Lee had seemed out of place with the rest of him.

I should’ve turned off the televisions then. If I hadn’t looked at the third screen, maybe I would’ve stayed in happy oblivion for a while longer, dismissing what I’d just seen as a physical preference.

I didn’t look away, though. I stared…and I stared…and I stared, unable to comprehend why and how Tor had pictures of me. A collage of candid photos took up the screen: one of me and Brayden on his couch, laughing, and the photo had been from outside a window. There was another of me exchanging money with Mr. Brown at the farmers’ market at the pier, and another of me dragging the garbage can that had gone tumbling out of the laundromat and into the street weeks ago. The angle was such that the photographer had to have been standing next to the building, but no one else had been there with me that night. I’d been alone, but felt like someone had been watching me, and now it turned out someone had. And that someone was my lover.

No… No, this was too much. This wasn’t real. I had to have hit my head when I fell, because otherwise, the horror of what that photo meant was too much.

I could hear Tor’s footsteps in the hallway, and my adrenaline kicked in. You have to get out of here. Run, before he realizes what you saw.

But my body didn’t listen. It stayed on the floor in shock, crumpled and frozen and unable to take my eyes off the images that would stay burned in my brain forever. It wasn’t until Tor called my name out that I dared look his way, and when I did, the strangled sound of my voice was one I didn’t recognize.

“What have you done?”

* * *

There’s a simple kind of beauty in the eyes of someone who is truly terrified. It’s the gleam that shimmers in their depths as tears begin to fill them and make the colors of the irises so vibrant. Jesse’s eyes had never looked bluer as he stared up at me in horror. His mouth was opening and shutting, like a fish out of water, as he tried to find words that were getting caught somewhere inside of him.

I’d left him alone for two minutes. Two minutes inside my office, where I’d figured he would move to the couch and wait for me like a good little lamb. But I should’ve known better. Jesse had been curious from the beginning, and it appeared he’d become curious tonight when he’d been left alone in the real Wolfe’s lair.

My mouth screwed up in annoyance at both the disobedience and impudence Jesse had displayed in questioning me, when he had been the one snooping around where he shouldn’t be. My hands balled into fists as the annoyance shifted to anger, and without responding to his question, I turned my head toward the three screens on my office wall and drank in the sight that greeted me.

It was a work of art, really. The way the camera had captured both of the heavenly faces staring out at me in such a pure light. Especially when I knew what deliciously devious urges those shells housed.

I crouched until I was on his level, and Jesse immediately scrambled backward, his heels digging into the rug, his fear of me evident on his face, and the way all color drained from it made my cock kick in response.

“What…what is that, Tor? How do you have those pictures of me?”

I reached for his ankle, wanting to pull him to me so I could teach him a lesson or two about what happened to those who dared defy the Wolfe, and when he kicked at me, my jaw bunched. “Be very careful, lamb…”

“Tell me!” Jesse demanded, and when I reached for him again, I caught his foot. I hauled him across the rug until I loomed down over him, a hand on either side of his body, my weight enough to keep him trapped beneath me, and just as I’d hoped, Jesse fought back. “You’ve been following me,” he said, and when I didn’t deny his accusation, he reached out to hit at me, trying to get free. “You’ve been fucking following me. How? Why? Why would you do that, Tor?”

I caught his flailing arms and pinned them to the ground by his head as my lips curled into a twisted smile. “Because I like it.”

Jesse struggled. “You…you like it?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know how fucked up that is?” Jesse said, his alarm over my admission written all over his face.

“I’m not sure why you’re so surprised. Were you not there the night in the forest? Have I not told you on many occasions that I’m not a good man—”

“That’s different,” Jesse said, his eyes watering now, tears spilling down the sides of his temples. “You let me believe that King was the one following me. That he was the bad guy. You made me think I was safe with you…that I could trust you…”

As the fight in him dissipated, those final words were like echoes from the past as they drifted around the room and then faded in the silence that remained. As he stared up at me, Jesse’s face blurred with the one that was up on the screen beside him, and I could hear Lee in my head and his words from that last night: You said that I could trust you, and I do.

“Get off me, Tor,” Jesse said, and with my mind not on him, he put all his muscle into shoving me off him, and succeeded. As I landed beside him, Jesse clambered away from me and pulled himself up by the couch, and then made a run for the office door.

I wasn’t far behind him, and just as he was about to reach the door, I made a grab for his arm and pulled him to a stop, tugging him into me so his back was flush against my front. I could feel his body tremble against mine as I lowered my head and nuzzled my nose into his hair. He smelled of sunlight, and I needed to touch him now more than ever.

“When I was sixteen, my mother moved us to a small town just south of here,” I said by his ear, my voice a raspy imitation of my usual sure tenor. The subject I was discussing had been buried for so long that unearthing it and speaking of it out loud caused physical strain.

Jesse remained eerily silent as he stood trapped by me, very much the lamb feigning death in the wolf’s jaws, waiting for its chance to escape. But I could feel each breath he took, and I closed my eyes, remembering a time long ago, when another had been silent and still, but on that occasion, there’d been no feigning—just the final kill. “I told you about it the night I took you to dinner. Do you remember?”

When there was no response from Jesse, I came around to stand in front of him, my hands on either side of his arms as I looked down at him. Jesse’s eyes were on the floor, only the top of his head visible. I curled my fingers into his shirt and tugged him a little closer to me, making his head snap up as I said, “I asked you a question, Jesse. Do you remember?”

He quickly nodded, his head jerking frantically. “Yes. I remember. Hazard.”

“That’s right. That’s where I met—”

“Lee?” Jesse asked, his eyes finding and locking on to mine, the fearfulness in them now mixing with a heavy dose of curiosity, which had gotten us into this mess in the first place.

I glanced over his shoulder to the images up on the screens, and as I compared the similarities between the two faces, I was convinced now more than ever that my first theory had been right. It had to be; there was no other explanation.

“How do you know that name?” I asked, returning my gaze to Jesse, who watched me with a wariness in his eyes I had never seen. He was staring at me as though I were a complete stranger—and really, I was.

“Does it matter?” he said. “I know it. Lee Wood. Just like I know your name’s really Tom Covington.”

I nodded slowly. “Yes. That’s my name, and yes, that was his.”

“Was?”

“Yes,” I said, but offered no clarification. “Was.”

“That’s it?” Jesse asked, his words finally returning to him in a rush of bravery. “I find out you’ve been following me, taking photos of me when I didn’t know. That you have a whole other fucking name. And that’s all you have to say about that?”

“No,” I said as I tilted my head to the side and ran my eyes over Jesse’s features. His cheeks were flushed with panic, those lips that looked as though they’d been bitten red were parted in disbelief, and his eyes had a look of confusion. “I have plenty to say about all of that. And the first thing you should know is that his name was Lee Wood and I loved him. Right up until the second I killed him.”

Even as the words left my mouth, they sounded foreign to my ears. It was one thing to know you had committed such an atrocity, and another to be accused and sent away for it without facing any kind of public punishment. God forbid word get out that the prince of Pacific Timber was not only gay, but into more perverse delights of the flesh. All you were left to do then was wallow in your own guilt. Live with it every second of every day, as you carried around the burden of the most sinful crime man could commit against another, and know that the moment the one you loved lost his life, you reached the biggest high of yours.

Fate had a fucked-up sense of humor to put me and Lee in each other’s path, and yet here she was again, hand-delivering Jesse to me like a sacrificial lamb—one she knew I couldn’t resist.

Jesse blinked once, twice, and then a third time before he realized exactly what I’d said, and then he began to struggle. He twisted his upper body, trying to get his arms free of my grasp, but he was no match for my strength, and as my hands tightened, he kicked out at my legs.

“Let me go, Tor,” he shouted. “You’re fucking crazy.”

“I’m not,” I said, and shook him, trying to get him to focus. Trying to get him to stop resisting before this got out of hand. But when he continued to fight me, I took his wrists in mine, marched around him, and dragged him in front of the screens. “You need to listen—”

“I don’t want to listen,” he spat, trying to wrench his arms free. “I want you to let me go. When I think about your lies…when I think about what you’ve done? I can’t…I can’t even look at you.”

My nails dug into the tender skin of his wrists, and Jesse winced at the sting but didn’t take his eyes off mine. I would get through to him. He wouldn’t understand until I showed him. Until I told him everything. Then he would know why I’d done what I’d done. Then he’d stop fighting me.

“Look at him.” I tugged Jesse closer to the image of Lee, bare-chested and beautiful with his silver bar piercings. “Just look at him, Jesse. Isn’t he beautiful?” There was no response as I released one of Jesse’s wrists to reach out and stroke the image I was staring at. I traced my fingers down the exquisite face, so familiar to me that I knew every nuance, every blemish, and I was amazed yet again at how similar it was to Jesse’s. “This is all I had left of him until the day you walked into the den. He was a ghost who haunted me until you. But now I know why I couldn’t let him go. It wasn’t time. He wasn’t ready to go yet.”

I could feel Jesse’s pulse racing under my fingertips even as I stroked my fingers down Lee’s side, and when I reached his waist, I turned to Jesse to see him looking at me with eyes so round they almost swallowed his entire face.

My eyes blurred over as I raised one of Jesse’s hands to my lips and pressed a kiss to it. He was seeing it. Jesse was starting to understand. And I knew I couldn’t stop now.

“I read somewhere once that when one angel dies, another is born.” Jesse looked at the hand I held in front of my lips but said nothing. “You would’ve been born around the same time Lee left me…”

Jesse slowly turned to look up at the photo on the screen. “Left you?”

“Yes,” I whispered, and kissed his knuckles again. “He used to sneak out after dark to meet me. He said it was our time because that was when the wicked played, and I was wicked to the core. He liked that. Liked that I frightened him. Just like you do.”

When I looked back to the image on the screen, Jesse tried to lower his hand, but I tightened my fingers, needing his touch to get through this. Needing him to understand why he was so important to me—why I could never let him go. “He understood me in ways no one ever had before. With him, I could be myself. We were inseparable, and no one cared. No one thought anything of it. Two boys. Best friends. But we were more than that. We had secrets no one knew about. We did things we knew no one else would understand. How could they, when we didn’t even understand them ourselves?” As Jesse stared at me, I lowered his hand between us and felt a tear roll down the left side of my face. “Then, one night, he pushed too far and I took too much, and he left me. My angel left me until two months ago, when you walked into my life and I saw him again.”

Jesse licked his lips, and this time when he pulled his hand away, I let it go. He wasn’t going to run from me. Not now that he knew the whole story. Not when he knew how important he was to me. My lamb would never leave me now.

“You need to let me go, Tor.” Jesse’s voice was soft, like he was trying to soothe an unpredictable animal.

“Let you go?” I said, not understanding why he would want to leave. Didn’t he understand how special this connection was? That he would never find it anywhere but here? “But…no, I can’t let you go, Jesse. Not now that I’ve found you again.”

“You have to—”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I can’t. I won’t. You’re just like him. He came back to me through you. This, us—we were meant to be, and you know it.”

“Tor,” Jesse said, and took a step toward me, but I’d lowered my eyes, not wanting him to see my weakness, as denial reared its ugly head and darkness threatened to overtake me again. “I’m not Lee. And I’m not like him, either. This fear…this heartache…I don’t understand it,” he whispered, and when I raised my eyes to his, he landed the final blow. “And I don’t want to. Triceratops.”