Chapter Fifteen

Kane

For a long moment I held my breath, but then I kicked myself as doubt crept into Danny's eyes at how unresponsive I was, so I reached up to take his hand. He was stronger than I expected, and as much as I wanted this—wanted him—I panicked. "I—" My throat closed even as I got to my feet.

"No expectations," Danny whispered. "Don't cage me in."

Which brought me out of my head spin. "Physically or figuratively?"

He winced a little. "Both?"

I swallowed. "I have zero experience." I could feel the flush start in my neck and could guess at the thoughts racing through his head. "And I assumed you hated me the other day."

"No, the opposite," Danny confessed and stepped closer. "I liked you too much, and it overwhelmed me."

Honest. We were being honest. "When I say zero experience—"

"You said I was your first kiss."

I nodded. I didn't want to think about the other time. Not that there were any kisses involved. He tipped his head to the side, studying me, but didn't ask more. I didn't know whether I was glad or not. Relieved, maybe. I didn't want to bring ugliness into this moment. It made no sense, but I wanted this to be special. I wanted to remember this as good. Even if we just kissed.

"I need to go slow," Danny said.

"Thank fuck," I burst out and Danny chuckled, and suddenly everything seemed easier. I bent my head, utterly entranced by the sparkle in his eyes, and wanted to taste the smile on his lips.

As our mouths touched, I registered the same slight mix of mint and tea as before. He reminded me of some chocolates Archie always had around Christmas. His favorites. Never knew where they came from. Some things you didn't ask even when you wanted more. He slid his tongue between my lips and tangled it with mine, the action shooting straight to my dick, which tingled happily. Slowly, I felt his fingers slide under my shirt and he slid his hands up. I stiffened, wrenching our lips apart and took a step backwards.

His eyes flew open, and we just stood eyeing each other warily. "Sorry," I offered, feeling completely inadequate.

"I've seen your scars." He took hold of my hand and walked me to the bed. "But you haven't seen mine." He crossed his arms and grabbed his shirt, then pulled it over his head. I gazed at his chest. It was littered with round—what looked like—cigarette burn marks, but some were too large to be from cigarettes. My eyes immediately zeroed on his left nipple and the small circular silver band that pierced it. Was it fucked up that he'd stripped to show me his scars, but all my focus was on that single nipple ring? I ached to touch it. Then he took a breath and turned to show me his back.

I hissed in a breath. I knew what whip marks looked like, and there were dozens.

"So, you see," he said, turning around. "It's why I'm hesitant to be touched as well."

"From when you were held?" Was I allowed to ask?

He nodded. "It was completely fucked up," Danny said quietly. "But the worse thing was that they tried to break Gray. They beat him daily."

"For information?" For punishment? I had no clue.

"No, simply spite and degradation. Punishment. They asked questions that made no sense. Things we couldn't possibly answer. But Gray took it, and it angered them, so they used me."

"You?" I asked, my voice cracking.

"They knew no matter what they did, Gray wouldn't break, so every question he didn't answer, they stopped punishing him and beat me instead. I didn't know the answers, neither did Gray, but they wanted him cowed, begging. So, they punished him by hurting me. It made no difference what he said, what he didn't say. I don't know what would have happened if we hadn't been found. Aubrey…" Danny's voice failed, and I took his hand. Pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles, I decided to honor his trust by sharing some of my own.

"I don't remember a time when Dad didn't beat me," I admitted. "I remember him walking into the kitchen once to see me raiding the peanut butter. We didn't have any bread. I'd been at school that day with no breakfast and no lunch and I was so hungry I felt sick. I dunked a spoon in the jar, and it was in my mouth when he came in." I let go of his hand and turned a little. "See the scar that goes from my left shoulder blade?" He didn't reply, but I knew he could hardly miss it. "That was his punishment." I was silent for a while, grateful that Danny didn't interrupt. "Food has always been associated with a punishment."

Danny met my eyes, but he didn't speak. "Some food when I was good. Other food when I was bad. Sometimes that was worse than no food."

I remembered being given leftover dog food scraped out of the bowls after they ate. I'd been forced to eat it. And I knew what would happen if I didn't. And if the dogs had turned it down…

"Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever get my body back. If I'll ever be me," Danny admitted. We were silent for another few minutes and when I decided to move, I hoped like hell I wasn't going to screw this up. I snagged his hand, turned to sit on the bed, and dragged him in between my legs. When I was sitting, he was taller but not by much and I think it eased him. I pulled him against me. And we stayed like that for many minutes. Just breathing. Letting go. I looked up at him, took in those eyes that would never not be utterly stunning, the slight graze of stubble on his chin barely hiding the flush on his neck, and the way he simply seemed to fit against me as if he belonged there. "You're one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen." He had to see that. To know that.

Joy lit his eyes, even if it was quickly hidden. "Does that mean I can get naked?" he asked, voice low, every word punctuated with teasing need.

"Fuck, yes," I breathed out and this time he bent his head and our lips met more in a clash of tongue and teeth, of desperate kisses and deep moans. Of hurried breaths and even quicker fingers as we each got the other one naked. "I want to make you feel good, but I don't know how," I murmured in between exploring his mouth. He seemed to like having the underside of his earlobe kissed and my tongue trailing down his neck.

"You seem to be figuring it out." Danny croaked out, pressing close. His cock hit my abdomen and he ground into me with a soft moan, clearly delighting in the friction. I immediately shuffled back and lay down, and he followed. "Let's just play. No expectations."

Which was the best thing I'd ever heard. I'd never topped, and I would guess Danny wouldn't like a big guy lying over him. I wasn't sure I could do the other, and then even if I could try, I wasn't dumb enough not to know I needed prep.

"You're doing way too much thinking." His hand reached out and his fingers wrapped around my cock and, you betcha, every thought flew out of my head. My hand enclosed his and after shifting, positioning, I could enclose his hand and both our cocks, and we got into a rhythm. I'd love to say I wanted to take my time, but urgency fueled me. Danny must have felt the same, because the sounds that spilled from his lips were perfect. I kept to his side, despite wanting to cover him. I knew he didn't want anything but the here and now, and for a brief moment wondered why that hurt, but then his thumb pushed into my slit, and I felt my balls draw up and tighten. Heat and pressure coalesced in my spine and raced to my groin. One more stroke and Danny arched into my hand. Sticky heat coating my fingers, I followed and for what seemed to be endless minutes, I lost myself in pleasure.

It took another moment to come back down to earth, and as I tried to draw back, he wiped his hand on the sheet, then slid it over my waist to keep me still. I knew I should clean us both up, but if Danny wanted me close, I was all over that. He sighed against my chest, and I felt lips press a kiss there.

"We don't need to examine this," Danny murmured. "Let's just keep it at wanting to feel good."

"Okay," I said, guessing he didn't want our motivations picked apart. I agreed, even though I wanted more. Needed more, because fuck, it was going to be so hard to keep myself from falling hard for this man. Eventually, his arm relaxed, and I got out of bed, going into the bathroom. I cleaned myself up, then brought back a warm, wet towel for him. He sat up, then, I hoped a bit reluctantly. He opened his mouth to speak just as his phone rang from somewhere in the apartment. I went out to get it, letting in a very relieved Sadie. Finding it in the kitchen, and without looking, I passed it over.

It had stopped, but Danny called back. "Diesel," he muttered, then put the call on speaker after confirming we were both listening.

"Good news and bad news," Rawlings said brusquely. "Danny's statement plus the CCTV footage shows Shae nowhere near the scene… Unfortunately, Shae's father has turned him in."

"What?" we both said in disbelief.

"I don't know what deal the dad's been offered, but he's rolled over both the hostage situation with Saunders and the gas station robbery. The cops are keeping him while they talk to Saunders, but if Saunders thinks he has something they want…"

Rawlings was silent while I swore.

"Plus, they're transferring him, and there was nothing we could do."

"Transferring him where?" I asked, barely able to get the words out. There was a silence, long enough for me to know the answer before Rawlings spoke.

"Ware Correctional." His voice was flat.

Fuck. That was the worst place. I knew every inch of it, and I remembered what it had been like as a fucked up seventeen-year-old.

And Shae didn't have Archie.

"You have to get me in there," I ordered without preamble.

I could hear the silent hesitation. "It might not come to that," Rawlings said.

"Fuck you," I snapped. "This is exactly what you wanted."

There was a scuffle and Oliver Michaels took the phone. "I don't need to know why," he drawled, "but nothing will happen before Monday. Even if you committed some grievous crime, you wouldn't see Shae, so maybe just wait."

"I'll be there in an hour," Rawlings said.

Joy.

Because no matter what happened, no matter what I had to do, come Monday, somehow I had to go back inside to protect Shae. To do whatever I had to. So long as he got out and lived a life, I didn't care.

It had always been too late for me, anyway.