Chapter Eleven

Shepherd felt sick to his stomach as Brogan

backed into an area next to an oversized garage the next afternoon.

They had dropped their load in Kansas City and then driven an hour

out of the city to Paola, Kansas, and Brogan’s home. The home he

shared with his two brothers, and from where they ran their

trucking company.

“That’s strange,” Brogan said as he set the

parking brake and turned off the engine.

“What?” Shepherd looked around, not sure

what strange thing he was looking for.

There was another big rig parked on the

other side of the garage, and across the way, closer to the big

white farmhouse, sat a pickup truck, an SUV, a sporty red sedan,

and a big black sedan. Shepherd knew Brogan drove the truck, but

did not know who belonged to the other vehicles.

“Harry’s here. He shouldn’t be back for

another week,” Brogan said. “Let’s go in so you can meet my

brothers. We’ll come out later to empty and clean the truck.”

Shepherd swallowed hard. “Okay.”

He would not meet just one brother, but both

of them. He only hoped they would like him and not try to talk

Brogan into kicking him to the curb. Taking a deep breath, he

opened his door and climbed down from the truck.

Brogan was waiting for him at the front of

the truck. “It’s going to be okay, Hoss. And if it’s not, we’ll

leave.”

Shepherd did not fight him when the big man

walked up to him and wrapped him in a bear hug. He slid his arms

around Brogan’s middle and clung, trying hard to push down the

fear, but it was like a snake, winding its way through him to keep

him from taking a breath.

“Well, it’s about damn time you showed up.”

A deep voice boomed out, causing Shepherd to jump in response.

Brogan squeezed him for a second before

slowly releasing him. When he would have stepped away, the trucker

took his hand in his and laced their fingers together. Together,

they turned toward the house where a large man stood on the porch.

He looked so much like Brogan that Shepherd had to take a second

look.

“What the fuck are you doing home anyway,

goat face? Aren’t you supposed to be out on the road for another

week or more?”

“You’re twins?” Shepherd asked as the door

opened and another man stepped out onto the porch.

“Nope, we’re triplets,” Brogan said. They

stopped at the bottom of the three steps that led up to where his

two brothers now stood shoulder to shoulder. “This is Shepherd and

he’s mine so keep your hands to yourself.”

“Holy cats,” Shepherd breathed, causing the

three men to laugh.

They looked remarkably alike with short

black hair and bright turquoise eyes. The big difference was that

one brother was clean shaven, and the other had a mustache and

goatee, while Brogan had a neatly trimmed full beard.

“Shepherd, meet my brothers. Sam is the

baby-faced one and Harry is the one who looks like a goat with that

fuzzy chin,” Brogan said, giving him a way to identify the other

men.

“Hello.” Shepherd gave a little wave with

his free hand.

“He’s cute. I can see why you kept him,” Sam

said. “But playtime is over, you’re going to have to give him back

now.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? He’s

not a toy you can give back once you’re done playing with it,”

Brogan said, sounding offended at his brother’s words.

That was when Shepherd remembered the black

sedan parked with the other cars. His father and staff always

rented black sedans when they couldn’t rent a limo.

“Brogan,” he said, tugging on his man’s arm

as the back door opened once again.

“No, he’s not a toy. But he is a sick young

man who needs to be hospitalized.” His father stepped out of the

house, his black suit, white shirt, and solid red tie spotless.

Shepherd wanted to run, but with two men

coming around either side of the house, there was nowhere to run

to. Closing his eyes, he turned and hid his face against Brogan’s

big, muscular arm. How was he supposed to fight when his father was

the master of manipulators and apparently had already brainwashed

Brogan’s brothers to his new story of where Shepherd was going and

why?

“I don’t think so, asshole,” Brogan said,

his voice low and dark. He pulled his hand free of Shepherd’s and

wrapped his entire arm around his back. “He’s not going anywhere

with you and your trained apes.”

****

With his arm wrapped around Shepherd, Brogan

stepped backward, so he could keep the senator as well as both his

black-suited men in sight.

“Mr. Myles, you cannot stop me from doing

what needs to be done. Shepherd is mentally ill and needs to be in

a hospital,” the senator said, using the same tone he used in the

commercials Brogan had seen.

Before he could think of an argument,

Shepherd lifted his head and took a deep breath before turning to

face his father. “No, I’m not. All I am is gay, but you can’t

accept that. And you weren’t sending me to a hospital when I

escaped back in Virginia. Those men were going to deliver me to

Carlos Reymundos. You had sold your son, your only child, to a drug

dealer and human trafficker to be taken out of the country and put

to work in one of his brothels in South America just because I’m

gay and a best-selling children’s author and illustrator. Well, I’m

sorry, Daddy dearest. I’m not going. Give Reymundos his money back,

send me my stuff, and you’ll never have to think about me again. I

promise I’ll never think of you, never speak of you again, and it

can be like we aren’t even related.”

The senator looked stunned at his son’s

outburst. Did he not think Shepherd knew what was going on? Or that

he would just willingly go along with whatever plans his father had

just because he had to this point?

Brogan took a deep breath and looked at his

brothers. They appeared confused and when he gave them a slight nod

that everything Shepherd had said was true, they nodded back. They

then studied Shepherd a little closer. It took a few seconds, but

he finally saw approval in their expressions. They then looked back

at him and nodded, this time with more conviction.

“I’m sorry you learned that,” the senator

said, so focused on his son that it was as if the Myles brothers

were not there, “but the money is gone. And while Carlos is a

patient man, his patience has come to an end, and he is demanding

you be delivered to him today. We need to go. There’s a plane

waiting for us in Kansas City.”

“How much?” Brogan asked, startling the

senator into looking away from his son.

“How much what?”

“He’s asking how much you got for me?”

Shepherd filled in the blanks and expanded on the question.

The senator looked from Brogan to Shepherd

and then around the back yard before coming back to Brogan again.

“Half a million.”

Brogan swallowed and looked at his brothers.

Before he could offer to buy Shepherd back, the man at his side

shocked them all when he said, “Done. I can have the money

transferred to Reymundos in two days. All I need is a bank and

account number.”

The senator frowned. “You can? How do you

have access to that much money?”

Shepherd laughed for a good thirty seconds

before he said, “I’m a bestselling author and illustrator with ten

books that have each sold in excess of two million copies, who

lived with his father and had no expenses. I saved every penny for

the day I would finally be free of family obligation. Yes, Senator,

I have the money to buy my freedom.”

He closed his mouth for a few seconds to

allow his father to understand his situation. “So, what do you say,

Senator? Call Reymundos and get him to agree to the change, then

walk away and forget I ever existed. If not, I’m sure these guys

know the local cops and can get them here to arrest you for

kidnapping, trespassing, and anything else we can think of in the

next few minutes.”

The two bodyguards apparently had more

brains than the senator. They slowly eased away and went to the

black sedan to wait.

The senator took a few minutes before his

shoulders dropped and he nodded. “Fine. You win.”

Twenty minutes later, the senator and his

bulldogs drove out of the yard. Reymundos had fought, but

eventually agreed to allowing Shepherd to buy his own freedom. His

only request was for signed copies of all of his books for his

children’s library.

“You okay?” Brogan said as he pulled his man

in for a hug.

“I knew he didn’t like my gayness, but I had

no idea he hated me that much,” Shepherd said softly.

“Well, I love you and I’m keeping you, so

forget about him,” Brogan said, brushing a kiss on the top of his

head.

“You love me?” Shepherd dropped his head

back on his neck and looked up at him. His eyes were wide and full

of hope.

“If I didn’t love you, do you really think I

would have lied to Joe Asshole and his friend? And the police

officer? And didn’t burn that sketch you did of me?”

Shepherd’s smile lit up his face and Brogan

leaned down and kissed him.

“I love you, too,” he said when Brogan

finally lifted his head.

“Get a room,” one of his brothers yelled

from inside the house.

Brogan bent and planted his shoulder in

Shepherd’s stomach then straightened again with the man draped over

one shoulder.

“What are you doing?” the little man asked

as Brogan opened the door and walked into the house.

“Taking my brother’s advice,” he said

without stopping.

He crossed the kitchen and headed up the

back stairs to the second floor. When they had inherited the farm

from their parents, they had gutted the second floor and remodeled

it into three separate bedroom suites, each with their own

bathroom. They also had each room soundproofed so they didn’t hear

the others when they brought men home, or when they decided to jerk

off.

Once they were in his room, Brogan closed

and flipped the lock on his door, then walked to the king-size bed

across the room. Bending, he flipped a giggling Shepherd onto the

bed. The little man bounced twice before spreading his arms and

legs and looking Brogan in the eye.

“Take me, big boy, I’m yours.”