Chapter Fourteen

Brad stepped out of the bathroom with Kendrick beside him. They both had towels wrapped around their waists. Brad had their dirty clothes in one arm and wrapped the other around Kendrick's waist.

Luis was beyond pissed and proved it by slamming and locking the bathroom door.

Kendrick tensed beside him, so Brad pulled him closer. "He's not mad at us, baby. He's had a bad day, is all. And you're safe. In this house you will always be safe."

"I know." Kendrick leaned into Brad.

Brad had his doubts, and as they made their way into the bedroom and pulled away from each other, they must have shown on his face.

Kendrick shut the door behind them. "I do know. So don't look at me like that. I'll always be jumpy."

"You shouldn't have to feel like that here." Brad put the bundle of dirty clothing into his hamper. He'd have to do a load of laundry.

"Can I borrow some clothes?" Kendrick sat on the side of the bed with his elbows supporting him from behind. His legs were open just enough to give Brad a peek at a pretty brown thigh, but nothing else.

"Sure, but mine will be too big. Luis is closer to your size."

"No, I want to wear yours. Please."

Brad pulled out a pair of sweats with drawstrings around the waist and another pair for himself. The drawstring sweats he'd had since high school, so they were slightly smaller than everything else in his dresser. They had seen a lot of washings, but they were good enough to wear around the house. He hadn't gotten rid of them because he had lost a lot of weight and muscle mass when he was in prison, and when he got out, they had been about the only things that had fit him well. In the couple of years since he'd been out, he'd gained all the weight back plus a little more muscle because his job was so physical.

Kendrick stood and closed the distance between them. When Brad handed the sweats to him along with some boxer briefs, he had just bought, Kendrick took them. The packaging had embedded creases in the underwear, making their newness obvious.

Kendrick handed the underwear back. "I want something you've worn already."

Brad lifted his eyebrows. "Okay."

Brad put them back in the drawer and pulled out something he had worn a few times, handing them over. He grabbed some for himself and took off the towel. Pulling the underwear on before grabbing another pair of sweats from the drawer below.

Kendrick let the towel drop, handing it to Brad, who stood in his way of the hamper.

Brad watched him as he got dressed. His ass looked delicious in Brad's boxers. He would have touched, but Kendrick pulled the sweats over his hips.

Brad handed Kendrick a T-shirt before taking one for himself.

It wasn't until Brad put his shirt on that he took in Kendrick's entire package. He rolled the sweatpants at the bottom and the T-shirt came down to his mid-thigh. Kendrick seemed young, barely legal, even though they were around the same age. Brad was over thirty by a couple of years, so Kendrick had to be around there somewhere. Brad grinned. "You're cute in my clothes."

Kendrick smiled. "I like wearing them."

Kendrick took his hand. His expression turning serious. He pulled Brad to the bed, and they both sat.

"What's wrong, Kendrick?" God, please don't say you want to leave. Brad couldn't handle that a second time.

"We need to talk about Randall."

"Randall?"

"My last serious relationship."

"Oh." Brad had a feeling he would feel homicidal by the end of their next conversation. "Only if you want to tell me."

Kendrick smile, but it didn't meet his eyes. "I met him in the lobby during intermission at a play I attended at my university. My best friend at the time got free tickets because her roommate was part of the theater group.

"Randall was older and wore an expensive suit. He paid attention to me, a nerdy little bi-racial kid. It started off slow. I mean, we didn't even have our first date until a month after we first met. He kept putting it off and canceling.

"What I didn't know at the time was that he was busy dealing with a domestic violence charge against him. Beat up his ex-boyfriend who pressed charges. That same man came to warn me a few months later, but I didn't listen. I thought he was just jealous. Anyway, Randall bought me things, like flowers and books. He paid attention to details and listened well enough to remember I liked watches and reading.

"He gradually sucked me in. I quit college and moved in with him. The isolation happened so gradually I didn't even notice until it was too late. The first time he got violent, he apologized and promised it would never happen again. I ended up in the hospital three times in two years. The last time I was in for a few days and I couldn't take anymore, so I finally called Royce and pressed charges. In that order." Kendrick took a deep breath and let it out. He smiled again and this time it reached his eyes as if just sharing his story set him free. "So that's it. The condensed version."

"What's Randall's last name?" Brad hadn't even realized he had done it but he had pulled Kendrick so close, he was almost sitting in Brad's lap and held him tight enough he feared his hold hurt Kendrick.

"Whitmore. His name was Randall Whitmore." Kendrick rested his head against Brad's shoulder. "Randall's bad luck was being in jail with his ex-boyfriend's father. The guy who came before me. The one who tried to warn me. Yeah, his father was one of those career criminals who had been in jail while awaiting his murder trial. He murdered Randall. Got life in prison between the two murders."

The information calmed Brad. "Remind me to put money in the man's commissary account."

"I already do. And I'm friendly with the ex-boyfriend. We don't talk every week or anything, but a few times a year, we check in with each other."

Brad pulled open his bedroom door, holding it for Kendrick. He couldn't help but touch when they walked down the hall together, so he rested his hand on the small of Kendrick's back. He liked the way Kendrick felt next to him. It was comfortable enough that he longed to touch him enough for it to grow familiar. Like a warm blanket that would morph into something weighted.

Kendrick didn't seem to mind.

Caden sat on the couch, watching a movie on television. He grinned when they entered the room. "The neighbors called the police because of a noise disturbance." Caden wiggled his eyebrows. "They said you two were very loud."

"Oh God." Kendrick turned into Brad, burying his face in his chest.

Brad wrapped his arms around him even as he chuckled. "He's kidding, baby."

"Well, it's not funny." Kendrick pulled away far enough to narrow his eyes. "Be quieter next time."

"Me?" Brad's chuckled turned into a laugh. He couldn't help it. Brad found a disgruntled Kendrick swimming in his clothes to be the cutest person he had ever seen.

Kendrick was smart enough to raise on his toes and whisper into Brad's ear. "I had you in my mouth, so it wasn't me making all that noise."

Brad's cock got semi-hard again at the memory. "I remember."

Kendrick wrapped his arms around Brad's shoulders and pressed close. "How do you feel about me spending the night?"

"Very hard, baby."

Kendrick chuckled. "So that's a yes?"

"Yes. I'd like that. Very much."

"Ugh. You two are so sweet on each other it's giving me cavities." Caden grinned when his gaze met Brad's so Brad flipped him off behind Kendrick's back.

Kendrick sighed and let Brad go, heading toward the kitchen. "If I'm making you ribs then you're going to help me, so come on."

Caden followed Kendrick. "You look adorable in my brother's clothes."

Brad leaned against the wall just outside of the room, making sure Kendrick didn't panic. But Brad needed to talk to Luis and find out what was going on with him. Luis's mental health pulled at him as if it were a magnet and he was a piece of metal. He worried Luis was in the bathroom cutting himself and he was ogling Kendrick as if everything was fine.

"Yeah, yeah. Get me an onion and garlic." Kendrick must have found the cutting board because the wood tapped against the countertop. And then metal scraped against wood as Kendrick pulled a knife from the block.

"No, really. You do. You look like a little doll." The onion drawer opened and then the refrigerator.

"Is that a compliment?" Kendrick's soft tone meant Caden embarrassed him. The blush was probably pretty.

"Yeah. I can see why Brad's so hot for you."

"Thank you."

"I'm gonna like having you around. You fit in to our family." Caden was right. Kendrick fit in as though he had always been there.

Brad smiled.

"I enjoy being here."

"Just don't hurt my brother, okay. He gets enough shit in this town."

"I don't plan on it."

"And don't freak out so much when one of us yells. It happens, man. We're brothers. But we won't ever really hurt each other."

Kendrick smiled. "I'll try."

Caden shrugged. "That's all you can do, I guess."

Luis came out of his bedroom. He had on shorts but no shirt. He leaned against the wall next to Brad. "You'll get to know him better if you stop spying and talk to him."

"I'm waiting for you, not spying." But he kind of was. Brad liked Caden and Kendrick's conversation enough that he wanted to hear more.

Luis sighed. "Shitty day. Royce stuck his tongue down my throat again, and that was after he threatened to fire me. I put a letter of resignation on his desk when he left to run errands and left a little early so I wouldn't have to see him again."

Brad knew how he must've looked but Luis's candor coupled with the way he just said he'd quit the only job he'd ever had, stole every word from Brad's brain until he had no idea what to say.

They must have stood in silence long enough for Luis to contemplate his entire life because he whispered, "I need your help."

Brad's gaze met Luis's. The pain had aged Luis a thousand years. It dulled him until all he had left was a troubled mind. But Brad had grown used to seeing that. The thing that wrapped around Brad's body and squeezed was the fear the confession brought.

"I'm here for you." The words fell short of the mark. He knew they would. He wasn't enough all by himself to make Luis well again. And that was the thing they both feared.

But it was too late to turn back the clock by sixty seconds to before Luis bared his soul with four words and they both knew it. Already Brad's mind was scrambling for the next step, not really knowing what it should be, but it was on him. Luis had laid it at his feet for him to pick up, and if it took his last breath he would. He fucking would every damn time because as difficult as putting Luis into a psych ward was, seeing him in a casket would prove impossible. They both knew Luis's future if Brad didn't pick up the pieces.

Brad turned to Luis, wanting his full focus to make him better through osmosis. "How bad is it?"

"Bad. I'll give you my stuff after dinner." Luis leaned into Brad, resting his forehead on his shoulder.

Luis's stuff consisted of deconstructed razors and bloody tissues.

"Do you feel like your gonna—"

Luis held out his arm, showing Brad the open, bloody wound on his forearm. The blood had coagulated, but not very long ago, which meant Luis had done it in the shower. Maybe it had pushed him into telling Brad. One last time to give him courage, but it had also scared him enough that he had to confess. "I feel like I don't want to wake up tomorrow. Or the day after that."

Brad put his hand on Luis's back, not knowing what to say to that. He wanted to say how much he needed Luis in his life, so he had to wake up and he wanted to shake him as he yelled it. But that wasn't helpful. In fact, it would do more harm than good.

Brad didn't know what the right thing was, but he knew the wrong thing. That eliminated several words. He settled on something that was a given to most people, but Brad didn't live in Luis's head. "You're not alone, Luis."

All Brad could do was give him the right tools. The problem was he didn't know which tool to hand him first.