CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Sleep just wasn’t happening tonight, and Gabriel knew exactly why.
Cam’s insistence on watching films, and eating Lay’s chips, and talking about normal stuff, and then not having sex had forced Gabriel to snap tonight. He’d wanted Cam so badly that he hadn’t been able to sit still on that damn sofa, and then the taste of Cam, the weight of him on Gabriel’s tongue before watching him come, had been enough to have him getting hard.
Properly hard. Completely needy.
And then he’d arrived home and there had been no sign of Stefan but for a note on the fridge with details of Gabriel’s next two bookings and a short sentence about how Stefan would be back in the morning.
Now Gabriel lay back in his bed, his hand on his cock and the image of Cam burned into his brain.
I wish I could feel this.
He couldn’t believe he’d admitted that to Cam, like Cam would even be interested.
Sex for him was a duty, nothing more than a transaction, a way of getting what he wanted. He’d become a man in a way no person should have to, he knew that, but now at least when he had sex he received something in the bargain.
Not like back then. When his mom had died, she’d left him alone, but the ranch had taken him in. Hank Castille had taken him in.
It’s okay, he’d said to the confused, heartbroken ten-year-old, there will always be a place here. He’d even dealt with the people the state had sent, or at least that was what he’d told Gabriel.
In hindsight, he wasn’t sure that anyone outside the Bar Five had actually known who he was.
Frustrated with the direction his thoughts were taking him, back to a time he was happy to forget, he focused back on getting himself off.
Nothing was working—not gentle motion, not the pain of pinching, and not even when he pressed his other hand to his throat.
Stefan was right. He was utterly broken.
Softening and miserable, he buried himself under the covers and closed his eyes.
When he slept, he dreamed of pain, and the scent of horses, and the abject fear and horror that refused to leave him, and he woke up drenched with sweat. Stefan’s door was shut as he walked past it to the shower, his wallet on the table by the door.
Stefan could give him the pain he needed to get off, and for a second the need to come outweighed the fact that going into Stefan’s room would make him angry. Then it wouldn’t be getting off, it would be a world of hurt that Gabriel didn’t think he could handle tonight.
He skipped the shower, dressed, and took himself and his cell phone out of the apartment and down to the lobby, and for a second he stood looking out of the door, contemplating what to do. He felt the itch of wanting to talk to someone, to argue, to shout, and all he could think was which person would even want to talk to him?
He moved outside into the cool night air and parked himself on a bench outside the building. This wasn’t the most expensive part of Dallas by any means, but it was a clean neighborhood, and quiet after dark, and this bench was out of everyone’s view and no one could hear what he had to say.
He was lucky Stefan let him have a cell. It was only to be used in emergencies and for checking in with Stefan, and Gabriel wasn’t allowed to store numbers in it, but still, it was a path to the world he tried to ignore.
A connection that he needed tonight.
He found the number easily enough and keyed the numbers into the pad, his thumb hovering over “OK”. As he waited for the ring tone, he almost chickened out and ended the call, but the sleepy voice that answered was enough to shock him back to the here and now.
“Legacy Ranch, hello?” the voice said. Gabriel said nothing, his mouth dry. “Hi, this is Kyle, can I help you? Are you okay?”
Gabriel took the phone from his ear and stared at it. Did Kyle know it was him? Or did he have that question in a list for any lost soul who called the ranch? He ended the call.
And he stared at the sidewalk in front of the bench, his phone in his hand. The screen lit up with an incoming call. He stopped it immediately.
The screen lit again a few moments later. This time he stopped the call and pocketed his cell. He didn’t want to talk to Kyle—it was ridiculous to even think of wanting to connect with the man.
He took his cell out again and looked at the three missed calls; clearly Kyle had tried again when the phone was in his pocket. He evidently wasn’t giving up.
The next time it lit up, Gabriel slid the call to answer.
“Legacy is a safe place,” Kyle said before Gabriel could say a word. “Whatever is happening with you, we can help.”
Another set of standard words, no doubt. There were no safe places. What was he going to say to Kyle? After all, Kyle was doing okay with his boyfriend and his horses and life.
“They broke my legs,” he blurted out. “They caught me running away and they got a baseball bat and they beat me so hard that they broke my legs and shattered my kneecaps. Did you know that?”
Of course Kyle didn’t know that. How could he? He’d been long gone.
“Gabriel? Where are you?”
“And then, when they’d done that and they knew I couldn’t run, they even took me to a hospital, said I’d had a fall. I still hurt when I kneel, and sometimes I limp, because after that first visit for medical help they never took me back. You know what I think now? If only at the hospital I’d told someone that I hadn’t been in an accident, that Hank and Yuri had deliberately targeted me, then maybe someone would have given me my own kind of Legacy Ranch.”
“It’s not too late, Gabriel. Tell me where you are and I will find you and bring you here.”
Gabriel felt a momentary bloom of hope, then it vanished. Stefan would be so mad, and what would happen if he had to come to Legacy to pick him up? Gabriel would be letting down so many clients.
“I can’t leave Stefan.” Even as he said it, he knew he wasn’t being rational. He’d only spent a few nights on the streets when he got to Dallas, not even sixteen. He’d been lost and alone until Stefan had saved him. And now he’d lost count of the number of years he’d had with Stefan looking after him. Unbidden, his free hand went to his throat. Stefan knew what he needed. Stefan was a mix of father, and brother, and boss.
“You can,” Kyle said softly, encouragingly. “And we can help you.”
“No you can’t. I don’t want help.”
“We can deal with Stefan—”
Gabriel ended the call.
Walking back into the apartment, he knew Stefan was awake. The place was flooded with light, and there was a tension in the air.
“Where were you, Angel?” Stefan asked from inside Gabriel’s room, stepping out from it and into the light. “I woke up and your door was open.”
“I couldn’t sleep and I went for a walk.” He smiled broadly at Stefan. Sometimes a ready smile worked on Stefan’s temper, and it was worth a try, because he looked pissed.
“Let me see your phone,” Stefan said, deceptively calm, holding out his hand.
Gabriel handed the phone over. There was no point in keeping it from Stefan; he’d end up getting it anyway.
“Who did you call? Was it Cameron Stafford? Because I’d hate for him to get the wrong idea. Hate to have to show him that he needs to remember you’re a whore and not a person.”
Gabriel felt a flash of defensiveness, then he remembered Six was always around Cam; nothing Stefan felt he had to do would hurt him. “No,” he said.
“Then who was it?” Stefan asked, and pressed a few buttons, to do what Gabriel didn’t know. Then he held the cell out in front of him and put it on speaker phone, and at that moment Gabriel knew he was screwed.
Fear knifed at him, but he pulled his shoulders back and waited. The door to the apartment was right behind him; he could just turn and leave.
The call connected.
“Gabriel, we can help you.”
Stefan ended the call and gently placed the cell on the table. “Who is that, Gabriel?”
“Legacy,” Gabriel said, because Stefan would find out; what was the point in lying?
“Why are you calling them, Angel?” he asked, deceptively calm.
“Kyle was one of the boys from when I was at the Bar Five.”
Stefan nodded. “Another lost and broken boy.”
Gabriel recalled Kyle with the horses, Kyle with Jason, Kyle not in fear of his fucking life every single waking second.
“Yes,” he said instead.
“Go to bed, Angel,” Stefan murmured, his arms crossed over his chest.
That was it? Stefan wasn’t going to tell him he was wrong, or shout at him? Gratitude and warmth spread through Gabriel, and he smiled at Stefan. “Okay.” He went to walk past Stefan, dodging slightly to the right when the impulse to hug him struck him. Stefan hated the shows of affection that Gabriel wanted to give at the best of times, and it was two a.m., but his guard down, Gabriel felt light, wanted, needed. Stefan reached out and gripped his arm, just a little too tightly. Gabriel didn’t pull away.
“You’re nothing without me, right? I’m the one you come to if you need to talk,” he said calmly.
Gabriel looked at Stefan and nodded. “I know.”
“Seemingly not enough,” Stefan said, and he smiled sadly. “You know what I have to do.”
Gabriel nodded. He knew he’d fucked up. “Please don’t hurt me,” he said. He always said that.
Stefan shook his head. “I don’t want to, Angel. But someone has to look out for you.”
“Please—”
Stefan pinned him to the bed, his hands around Gabriel’s throat, but he wasn’t angry, his expression was utterly focused. “If I killed you, no one would care, you know that right?”
Gabriel whimpered. All he could think was that Cam would care.
Wouldn’t he?
“I could press harder and harder until every breath was gone from you, and you’d let me, wouldn’t you?”
No. Don’t hurt me. I want to live.
But the pressure on his throat was too much, and his vision was darkening, and he could only think of one thing.
Stefan was right. No one wanted Gabriel Reyes.