Chapter 5

FORD

Fuck! Pain radiated from every muscle in my body. Bryce really went to town on me in that session.

We had a rule that there wasn’t much off limits in sparring, but a power kick to the upper abdomen? That was a low blow, and Bryce knew it. I rubbed my hand gingerly over the spot again. Damn, that was going to leave a hell of a mark come morning. The damage to my heart was another matter. The bloody thing was shattering.

“Ford!” Bryce’s booming shout hit my ears just as I rounded the corner that led to my room.

Fuck me! Why couldn’t he just let me suffer in peace? I slowed my steps and waited for Bryce to catch up. I wasn’t normally a glutton for punishment, didn’t enjoy getting my heart stomped on over and over, but I needed to know what his game was, why he was doing this to me, to us.

I hissed with pain when I turned around. Damn arsehole.

“Fuck, Ford. I didn’t mean it,” Bryce said again, his gaze running over me, which heated when it reached my bare chest. 

Instantly, a blanket of heat surrounded me. I loved it when Bryce looked at me. His eyes never lied. Even when we fought or when he was lying to himself about us, those eyes of his told a different story. Like now, they were telling me he liked what he was seeing. I was covered in tatts from head to toe, literally. I had several on my face, my neck was covered, including the Wounded Souls skull tattooed on my throat, and from there down there wasn’t a bit a skin left un-inked.

I ignored the hard-on that was swelling behind my zip, though how the fuck I was able to get aroused while I was in pain was beyond me. That was the power of the attraction Bryce had on me.

“What the hell was that, Bryce? You knew that kick was going to land where it did, and we never do that, brother,” I yelled at him.

I saw the flicker of desire flash across his face when I used his given name. I’d promised myself from now on he was just plain old Lucky to me, making our conversations less personal. His proximity and the obvious heat radiating from him had me reverting to my old ways. Weak. I was so weak when it came to him.

“I don’t know what came over me, Ford. I had a fight with Ava on the drive back to her parents’ place, and she spouted all sorts of shit that pissed me off. I’m so fucking confused, and my head is all over the place. I guess I took it out on you,” Bryce explained.

At least he had the decency to look contrite. It didn’t excuse his behaviour, though. Being his punching bag to get out his frustrations concerning his fiancée rubbed me the wrong way. Bryce had a habit of using other people to justify his bad behaviour, and I was quickly getting tired of it. Back in the desert, he worried about the other guys finding out about us. Now it was his family and Ava. What the fuck was I to him? A dirty fucking secret? It was time I found out. This living my life in a weird limbo had to stop. I deserved more, better. Whether or not that was Bryce… I had no idea.

“What I am to you, Bryce? Seriously, I need to know because I’m out of answers here, mate. You say you’re lost, so can you imagine what I am feeling. Do you even give a shit?” The words tumbled out, years of dreaming he was going to be mine and then nothing spilling out of me. I couldn’t stop the tirade even if I tried.

Bryce stumbled back, almost as if my words hit him in the chest and knocked him off balance.

“Fucking Christ, Ford. Of course, I give a shit. There isn’t anyone else I care about more than you—”

I stopped him with a harsh laugh, not believing what I was hearing from him. What a crock of shit! He cares about me more than anyone? What a bloody joke!

“Is that right, mate? Well, I’d hate to see how you treat people you don’t care about.” I looked at the man who was the subject of every dream I had, every hard-on I got, every heartache. This had to stop. I had endured enough. With my new mindset, I squared my shoulders. It was time to take back control.

“You know what? I’m done! I’m obviously not worth fighting for, and that’s fine, Lucky. I get it. Go back to your stuck-up, snooty, rich girl. I don’t give a shit anymore. I will find the right guy who isn’t embarrassed or ashamed to be seen with me, to call me his. Just do me a favour, and stay the fuck out of my way, yeah?” With fresh resolve, I turned on my heel. My only recourse was getting to my room and away from my man. Fuck, not mine––he will never be mine.

A deep growl came from behind me, and seconds later, I found myself being pushed roughly against the wall. It all happened so fast I barely had time to register the pain from the sudden movement. Pissed off hazel eyes bored into mine, and Bryce’s mouth was inches from mine, his throat working up and down.

“You think I’m ashamed of you? Embarrassed to be seen with you? You think we’re done? We ain’t done, baby––not by a long shot.” Bryce panted hard as he spoke, each question coming out like a threat. His voice was low and dangerous as heat poured off him. My cock twitched in my pants again. This was the Bryce only I knew. The man who took charge, made me submit, made me hungry. I licked my lips as they watered for a taste.

“Yeah, I do,” I croaked out. My voice was lost somewhere between Bryce’s heated glare and my thickening cock.

“Think again,” Bryce growled before his lips descended on mine.

Euphoria erupted inside me at the first contact of his warm, soft lips. The years of waiting, wishing, dreaming of this exact moment drifted away. All that mattered was now.

I reached my arms around his waist and pressed my hands against Bryce’s lower back, pulling him closer to my body. We were roughly the same height, so our lower bodies easily pressed together. His hardening erection bulged against mine.

“Does that feel like I don’t give a shit, baby?” Bryce whispered against my swollen lips as he took one of my hands and placed it between our fused bodies, pressing it against his denim covered hard dick.

I groaned at the contact with his dick, which was huge, hard, and throbbing.

My gaze stayed riveted to his wet lips as I managed a small shake of my head. How I did, I didn’t know because my blood had rushed to my pants. My heart was beating out of my chest each time he called me baby. Bryce was the more dominant of us, demanding control of my body. He knew what I needed, how I needed it, but he was also romantic.

Again, his mouth took mine, his wet tongue licking the seam of my lips, demanding entry, and I gave it willingly. Fuck, I would give him anything about now.

“No other man is ever going to do this to you, Ford, so you can get that notion out of your head.”

As a low growl released from deep in his throat, I stroked my hand along the large ridge of his zip. His possessiveness turned me on, and it always had.

“You have Ava,” I whispered, reminding him of why I was so upset.

“I haven’t touched her, not in that way. I can’t. It’s just you, Ford, always just you, baby,” Bryce admitted with a harsh release of breath against my mouth. His forehead rested against mine as both of us gulped in air.

His declaration elated me. This had to mean what I thought it did, right? He wanted me, wanted to be with me.

“It’s just you for me, too, Bryce,” I responded. I boldly slid my tongue down his neck, his skin tasting musky with a hint of salt. I revelled in the goosebumps that formed on his skin as my tongue traced a path across his Adam’s apple, his grunt of approval spurring me to go further. We were in the hall that was used by two other couples, so we could get caught at any time. Bryce must have known this, too, yet he didn’t seem to care.

I ripped open his button-down shirt, the press studs giving away easily to reveal his well-formed, muscled chest. He was sporting a few red marks and welts from our sparring. With tenderness only Bryce brought out of me, I lovingly kissed each mark, taking my time and enjoying my exploration.

Bryce’s hand came to the back of my head and held me against him, his panting and groans of pleasure nearly my undoing.

“You know what I want. Put your mouth there. Lick me. Suck me,” Bryce demanded.

My mouth found his flat disc, the nipple extended with excitement. Bryce loved nipple play. Christ, I could make him come with just that alone and had done on more than one occasion.

Over and over, I sucked his nipple into my mouth, my tongue swirling across the tight nub, which earned me erotic groans from my man.

“Fuck, I love it when you do that. Your mouth is fucking amazing, baby.” Bryce groaned, his hands tangling in my unruly hair. There was a slight sting of pain when his fists gripped my hair, but I relished the pain. It meant that this was happening, really happening.

I hummed around his nipple, not prepared to let it go. My mumbled “I know” brought on a deep chuckle from Bryce.

Lower down, our dicks strained against the denim of our jeans. Mine was so hard it was almost painful. I ached for some kind of release that even a grope over the material would push me over the edge. I was wound so tight that coming in my pants seemed like a fucking fine idea.

“Take your hand and put it on my dick.”

I groaned low in my throat at the demand. Bryce knew how to make my stomach clench with his filthy words. His dominance in the bedroom—or the hallway, in this case—always had me doing whatever he asked and begging for more.

Slowly, without removing my mouth from his pec, I lowered my hand down, making sure to touch as much of his muscled abs as I could as I went. The deep planes and ridges of muscle shivered under my touch. He was cut like no one else I knew. His dedication to the discipline of Kava Maga showed in the perfection of his body. Even though I was a bit lankier than Bryce, I was no less cut in the muscles department, just not as beefy. Personally, I believed we had the perfect body shape for one another. With his need for dominance and control, he was easily able to pick me up and place me or toss me, whichever the situation called for, wherever he wanted me.

“Stop teasing me, Ford. Touch my dick and see how hard I am for you. Just a few kisses and I’m even harder than just minutes ago.” He grunted with approval when my hand palmed his dick again.

Fuck me, he wasn’t kidding. He was fully erect now just from my tongue and a light exploration of his chest. The feeling of power surged through me. If I could get him to see our attraction was something that only came around once in a lifetime, then maybe, just maybe he would see we were worth the chance of being outcasted by his family. I had no illusion that they would accept us as a couple. To his family, being gay was a social disease, something to be hidden in a dark cupboard. My parents were the exact opposite. I received nothing but encouragement and support from them when I came out. They were shocked—it wasn’t like I played with dolls or wore pink when I was a kid—so when I figured it out in my late teens, early twenties, instead of freaking out, they sat down with me, and we discussed it. Even my older brothers never gave me shit except in a joking manner.

Support from my family was the key to me being happy in my own skin. I joined the army just like any regular guy, and just like normal guys, I liked to shoot guns and blow shit up. I was born with computer skills. It was a natural progression from hacking into my school records to becoming one of the Australian Army’s best tech guys.

A pained moan and a twitch under my hand brought me out of my musings. My head lifted from Bryce’s chest, and I saw the most beautiful sight. His eyes were closed, and his long, dark lashes were lying on his flushed cheeks. His sublime lips were parted, and his teeth had his tongue caught between them as panting breaths hit my face.

“Oh, yes, baby, just like that.” He groaned.

I quickly looked down to where my hand was rubbing the bulge in his jeans. Apparently, while I was lost in my head, I hadn’t stopped my hand from doing its duty.

Bryce’s cock was not only thick but long, reaching far below the bottom seam of his front pocket when flaccid. My lips dried with want as my own cock rubbed against Bryce’s jean-clad leg. Fuck, here I was, dry humping in the hallway where anyone could see. We had to move this to my room. This foreplay was fine and dandy, but I wanted to be claimed again. It had been far too long since I had my man in me.

“Bryce, let’s—” I stopped when I heard a high-pitched squeal––not a ‘having fun’ kind of squeal, either.

“Shiloh!” both Bryce and I said at the same time.

Forgetting about our boners, I pushed away from the wall and rushed to the end of the hall where Deck and Charlotte’s rooms were.

I burst through the door just ahead of Bryce, desperate to get to the little girl, her frightened scream cooling the heat that had burned in my body only seconds ago.

“Shiloh, baby girl, where are you?” I yelled when I noticed her bed was empty. Fear coursed through me. After the year the little girl had already had, and even though Rogue had been killed at the hands of Booth, there was still a lingering fear amongst the members of the Souls, a fear that wouldn’t go away. We were undeniably safe, Jason having assured us the danger ended with the life of our former mentor. Getting that fact in our minds and believing it was a bit harder to accomplish.

“Shiloh, answer me, honey,” I called again as panic started to set in.

“Fordy, I’s down here,” Shiloh’s mumbled voice came from the other side of the room, but looking around, I couldn’t see her.

“Ford, the wardrobe,” Bryce said as he crossed the room to the double-doored cupboard, jumping over the obstacle course of toys strewn all over the shag carpet.

Bryce wrenched opened the doors to reveal the raven-haired princess cowering way in the back, sitting on one of her huge stuffed bears.

“Fordy, I’s had a scary dream,” Shiloh cried. Her tiny body shook, and tears streamed down cheeks that didn’t seem as chubby as they used to be.

I had heard Charlotte talking to Stella about Shiloh’s lack of appetite last week. At the time, I hadn’t thought anything of it, but now, seeing her—really looking at her—I noticed a small difference in her. Come to think about it, at the park, she had barely touched her snacks I had with us.

“Come ’ere, little miss,” I said softly.

Shiloh launched herself against me, her little arms wrapping around my neck and squeezing me tightly. I looked up at Bryce and saw the worry etched on his face. With Shiloh attached to me like a spider monkey, Bryce grabbed my elbow and helped me to my feet, the zing of electricity from the innocent touch not going unnoticed by either of us. When Bryce smirked at me in that cocky way he did, I resisted the temptation to lean in and kiss that smirk off his face. Instead, I focused all my attention on Shiloh.

“Okay, Squirt, wanna tell Fordy what the dream was about?” I asked gently. All of us had mastered the ‘placate Shiloh voice’ years ago. Whether it was when she was an infant and sleep wasn’t happening for her, getting her to eat her veggies, or just to reprimand her for bad behaviour, our tones were always soft and gentle. She was a sensitive little creature despite her spunk and sass.

Her sniffles started to subside just enough for her to speak.

“We’s were in da car, and the bad man hurts Dundee. Mummy was scared, and Aunty Stells was cryin’. I’s could hear Daddy and Darf yellin’ on the phone.” Shiloh hiccuped against my shoulder.

My heart ached. Was the poor kid ever gonna get a break from all the shit she had witnessed? I worried about how long she could be affected by it all. The nightmares were a new thing. We had all expected them to start right after the car accident, but she’d seemed, at the time, not to be too upset other than not seeing Dundee around the compound anymore. Then, when Vegas was killed, I was certain shit was going to hit the fan, but once again, Shiloh’s tremendous ability to cope with whatever was thrown her way shone through.

Darth’s death was another matter entirely. After the things she told me at the park that afternoon, I believed it was all finally getting to her. Talking and seeing a dead person had to mean she was suffering from some form of PTSD. All the guys at the club had experienced it, some more than others and some more intense than others, but I never really had. Other than my affliction to sand, I managed to get out with not much more than that.

“Hey, kiddo, I promise nothing is ever going to happen to you ever again. The bad man who did all those horrible things is gone now, and he is never coming back. Uncle Booth took care of it, and you know Booth never lets anyone down, right?” I reassured her in a voice that sounded like a kindergarten teacher. I glanced over at Bryce to see his hand over his mouth, smothering a chuckle. I raised one hand off Shiloh’s back and extended my middle finger. Fucking smart-arse! He was no different when he dealt with Shiloh.

I was about to tell Bryce exactly that when Shiloh started giggling.

“What’s so funny, little girl?” I asked, tickling her waist, loving the giggles and snorts she made.

“Darf.” Shiloh chuckled again.

I stopped my movements immediately and pulled Shiloh back so I could see her face. Bryce too came closer, his smirk now replaced with concern.

“What about him, honey?” Bryce asked, catching Shiloh’s attention.

She looked over at him and gave him a grin.

“He said, ‘Ford sounds like a girl.’ Then he puts two fingers up behind Fordy’s head,” she said with another burst of giggles. “Oh, Darf, youse is silly. Fordy won’t like you pulling his hair like dat,” Shiloh said, her gaze away from Bryce and centred on the space behind where I was sitting. 

My whole body froze. A shiver of dread shot through me. Holy shit, she was seeing him. The enormity of what Shiloh told me at the park just tripled.

“Baby girl, do you see Darth right now?” Bryce asked slowly. From the totally gobsmacked look on his face, it seemed Bryce believed that she was.

I quickly looked over my shoulder. I don’t know what I expected to see, but the hairs on my arms stood tall. There was something in here.

“Uh-huh, sure do, Lucky duck. He heards me scream. He did last night, too, but Mummy gots to me first. Darf doesn’t come out when she is around,” Shiloh explained. Her tears started to dry up, and the shaking had stopped. It was almost as if nothing had happened, like she hadn’t hidden in the cupboard, scared out of her mind.

“But he is here now, with Ford and me here?”

Shiloh once again looked behind me. She said nothing a for few seconds, but then her head nodded up and down, her eyebrows drawing together in a frown.

“Darf said youse can go now. He gots it from here. He said the hallway isn’t a place for dat shit, but he is happy for ya,” she replied with a shrug. “What’s that mean, Fordy?”

I spun around quickly, nearly dislodging Shiloh from my lap. Fuck me drunk! Was Darth really here? How the hell did Shiloh know to say that about Bryce and me being in the hallway? Was she telling the truth and really seeing a ghost version of Darth? What the fuck was going on?

All these questions went through my mind all at once. If it were true, and Darth had somehow stayed here to watch over Shiloh, how the hell was this going to affect her mentally? Deck needed to know this. Booth needed to know. And Shiloh needed to talk to someone with experience in this sort of thing. This was far beyond anything we as a team had ever dealt with. No PTSD case like this had ever been reported to my knowledge—at least, not from any soldier I knew. Tomorrow, I was going to use my position as the club’s financial and computer expert and call a war room meeting.

And tonight… tonight I was going to bed alone again, the only difference this time was I had hope for the first time in years.

Bryce was going to be mine. One way or another. My oath he was.