Aftermath (4 page)

In turn, Austin's constant pacing and need to check the bolts and screws in the walls irritated the everloving
fuck
out of Cam.

"You're only making it worse," Austin snapped one day, referring to Cam's wrists. They were a lot redder than Austin's, even bleeding in one spot. "Jesus Christ. Why haven't the police found us yet?" He pulled at his hair, feeling like he was going crazy. "And there has to be a way out."

"Yeah. Psycho only forgot to tell us," Cam said dryly.

Austin shot him a glare.

*

"He kept talking about control," Austin murmured, staring out the massive window behind Gale. "I didn't know I'm just as dependent on it." Only, Austin didn’t get anxiety attacks like Cam did. He grew angry. Furious, even.

"Where are you now, Austin?" Gale asked softly. "Who are you talking about?"

"Cam." Austin cleared his throat and straightened. "Back when…
back then
, Cam would talk about losing control. We weren’t in control. And he had anxiety attacks." Thinking back on it only made him angrier. "He was a damn pain to help," he chuckled darkly. "I know the reason, obviously, but…" Being unable to help—that was a major trigger, he realized. And now, now he couldn’t even help
himself
.

When he faced Gale again, she was studying him curiously, and Austin didn’t blame her. He was mumbling nonsense, everything out of context; of course she was confused. At least, he figured she was confused. Hell, so was he.

"Austin, do you feel like Cam was or is your responsibility?"

*

In another part of Bakersfield, Cam was in the living room opening his gift from Landon and Jules. Well, there wasn’t a lot to open; it was a box with a lid, and it was moving. He grinned and flipped up the lid, then hid the fact that he felt like shedding tears of relief. Why he hadn't thought of this himself was beyond him.

He would feel safer now. Call it a gut feeling.

"If you don’t like him, Landon and I have already talked about getting a dog," Jules said quickly, looking worried.

"Nah, this guy ain't going anywhere." Cam squatted down and petted the head of the Husky pup.

Landon and he had had a Husky when they were kids. A damn good dog. This one was definitely gonna keep Cam active, too. That was a good thing. Huskies weren’t put on this earth to mosey around and be lazy.

"How old is he?" he asked, picking up the puppy. He chuckled as the dog licked his face, and just like the one he'd had as a kid, this one had light blue eyes and a cream and light brown-colored coat.

"Twelve weeks," Landon murmured, smiling at the puppy and his little brother. "You're gonna have to pick out two names."

Cam nodded and ignored the other party guests in the backyard. It was calmer here in the living room. "You think Mom will be pissed if I name this one after a drink, too?"

Landon smirked. "You were seven the last time. You weren't supposed to know about booze yet."

Well, their dad had approved of Irish Coffee. Two names—a dog had to have two names; it was a rule. Irish for short.

Cam wasn’t big on affection with just anyone; personal space was important, but his brother and Jules weren’t strangers. They'd earned his trust years ago. Walking over to them, he kissed Jules on the cheek and hugged Landon, saying thanks more than once. He doubted they knew how much he appreciated this kind of gift.

"Thank you," he said again, averting his gaze to the puppy. When shit got emotional, he didn’t like direct eye contact. "What do you think about keeping it Irish?" After all, their mother was Irish, even though she was born in Cali. Her maiden name was Mulligan. "Or we could piss off Mom and say we're keeping it Irish, then we call him Bourbon."

God forbid if Lily Nash was around to hear you call Irish whiskey bourbon, or even worse, Scotch. The woman knew her booze.

"Harsh," Jules laughed.

"How would she know your intention?" Landon countered.

Cam shrugged. "Bourbon Mulligan oughta do it." He nuzzled the soft patch of fur on the top of the puppy's head. "Yeah, I'm sticking with it. Bourbon." Hey, it went well with the dog's coloring, too. "Let's go introduce the Irish." He grinned and carried Bourbon out on the patio where his parents were talking to some of the guys from Landon's garage and a few cousins on Jonathan's side. "Mom." He came up behind her and draped an arm around her shoulders. "I want you to meet Bourbon Mulligan."

Lily stared up at her youngest son with a blank expression.

"Oh, boy." Jonathan snorted. "Here we go."

"You think that’s funny?" Lily asked flatly. "You know, honey, I'm all for peace and love, but perhaps you're not too old for a damn spanking—"

"Oh!" Cam cracked up. "You kiss your husband with that mouth?" He winked and left his parents to grab a beer.

Everyone knew Cam didn’t like to be crowded, so they didn’t get too close when he sat down on one of the patio chairs next to Landon. He sipped his beer, mostly staying quiet, and watched as his new dog played around with a tennis ball.

It was the only toy he had in his house, so he made a mental note to pick up some more tomorrow. From the guys at work, he was given a gift card to a pet superstore, a bag of puppy food, a leash, and a bowl set for food and water, all of which had Jules's name written all over them. That was how men worked. They handed their money to the women, who went shopping.

"You got the usual from Mom and Dad?" Landon asked.

Cam nodded. That meant five hundred bucks in a savings bond and a year's subscription to
Hot Rod
and
Automobile
.

Bringing out his new phone—the old one was lost the day he was kidnapped—he snapped off a shot of Bourbon and texted it to Austin with the caption,
"My new housemate."

"Who'd you send that to?"

"Austin," Cam mumbled, eyeing the bandages on his wrists. They were coming off soon, and he knew he'd always have to live with the scars. He had scars all over his body, but these were the deepest. Five months of being cuffed almost constantly had made sure of that.

"Yeah, he was here yesterday, wasn’t he?" Landon asked and grabbed a handful of peanuts from the table. "I'm surprised Ethan hasn’t spoken to you about that guy."

"
Who
?" Cam's head snapped in his brother's direction.

Landon frowned, confused, and nodded at the dudes by the grill. "Ethan? Jack's partner. Said he thought it was a shame Austin was straight or whatever." He rolled his eyes. "He read about the Huntleys in the papers—saw Austin's picture."

"Right." Cam breathed in through clenched teeth, feeling stupid. He thought his brother had said
Evan
. Big difference. Jesus fucking Christ.

*

A week or so later, their "boss" came down and announced his name was now Mr. Strong and that he wanted to speak to Evan.

There was no response.

"Insane motherfucker." Cam brought both hands up to push back some of his hair.

He reeked, despite washing off daily and using that fucking bar of soap, but it didn’t matter. It was humid down here and it smelled of mildew. On top of that, at least one had vomited and missed the fucking toilet. It also smelled like piss, which almost made him wish that they had an impenetrable roof to their cell, too. Alas, it was a metal cover with finger-width sized holes everywhere. Just enough for the light to seep through when Psycho decided they'd had too much darkness.

And Christ, he needed a smoke. Bad. Hell, it would make the place smell better.

"Wait. The scripts," Austin said, keeping his voice low. "It said another name on mine." He picked up the papers off the floor and pointed to the top corner. "Sam."

"There's no Evan here!" someone shouted angrily.

Cam frowned as he spotted the name on his script, as Austin called it.

"It says Evan on mine," he whispered.

*

"I don’t fucking get it," Landon was saying, but Cam wasn’t really following. He was busy steadying his breathing. "Do they share dudes? I mean, if Jules said it was a shame some other man was gay, I would pound his ass."

"He'd probably like that," Cam replied automatically.

It earned him a punch on his arm. "That’s not how I meant it, bro." Landon scowled at how easily he'd fallen into that one. "But can you answer my question?"

"What question?"

Landon took on an impatient expression. "Do gay guys generally share each other?"

Cam couldn’t help but laugh. "Christ, you're stupid. Why the fuck would they?" He thought back on Jack's partner's comment about Austin. "It was probably just a compliment, idiot."

"Well, how would I know? I'm not gay."

"You say that as if I am."

"You do play for both teams," Landon pointed out.

Cam shrugged. "So fucking what? Does that make me an expert?" Sometimes his brother could be dumb. "I can't believe we're even talking about this. What are you—a fucking woman?"

Landon didn’t miss a beat. "See the belly on that one?" He pointed at Jules, who was laughing about something with their mother. "I think that proves what I'm equipped with."

"Whatever," Cam sighed as his phone beeped with a text from Austin, or Mr. MBA, as he was labeled in his contact list.

If Riley sees that, she'll run away from home and we'll find her at your place. I'm deleting this photo now. Happy birthday, by the way.

Cam smiled to himself and pocketed the phone. At first he'd been a little worried Austin's abrupt departure yesterday would cause a rift or something, but apparently not. Then again, they'd fought before, and that hadn't changed anything.

*

Later that night, when it was just Cam and Bourbon in the house, the wounds of today's flashback were too fresh for him to relax.

All the windows remained open, screens in place to keep out the bugs, and the lights were on. But it wasn’t enough. Sitting on the bed in his living room, he struggled to not think back, to not feel like he was suffocating.

"I'm not Evan," he mumbled to himself, tapping his thumb to his other fingers. "I'm not Evan." Someone else was. "I'm not Evan." The profiler at the FBI had pieced together a lot about the motherfucker who had kidnapped ten guys, but all they had was an educated guess. "I'm not Evan."

His breathing wasn’t slowing down, but he hated taking a pill for his goddamn anxiety disorder. Before the kidnapping, he hadn't had an attack in so fucking long, and now they were ruling his life. But there was one thing that had worked in captivity. Or rather, someone.

He swiped up his phone and called Austin.

Riley had gone to sleep, the dishwasher had been emptied, the house was spotless, a movie was playing, and Austin couldn’t sit still. He was supposed to watch the romantic flick with his wife, but it was impossible to relax.

After his session with Gale today, he had called his boss at the main office in LA, and he'd been told not to come back yet. Take another month off, Mr. Sterling had advised, though it was more of an order. Another month. A whole
fucking
month—with nothing to do.

"Christ, you're all twitchy!" Jade exclaimed in frustration. "
Please
, just…just calm
down
." She was pleading with him now. "You promised you'd leave all that behind you."

Austin's jaw ticked with tension and he nodded, then faced the TV again and adjusted his glasses. Not that he watched. Now he had to physically make sure he didn’t move a muscle.

He needed
something
to do. As much as he adored spending time with his daughter now that she was on summer break, he needed more than that. Something that was just for him. He was even sick of seeing his parents constantly popping in to say hello. God knew he loved them, but it was becoming frustrating to see his mother in tears. All the "what if"s were getting tedious.

Gale was right; he did need to take it slow, and he knew if he was running the show all on his own, he would soon be buried in work. Then, one day, he'd probably explode. But walking around doing absolutely nothing wasn’t good, either. Yes, it gave him time to process and heal, but it was also giving him more grays.

"You're doing it again," Jade snapped. "My God, just forget it." She shot up and shut off the TV. "I'm going to bed. Feel free to join me when you can act like a normal person."

Austin sighed heavily, his head lolling against the back of the sofa, and closed his eyes. Maybe he needed a release, he thought wryly. He could get his laptop and stream some porn, because unlike Cam, he sure as hell didn’t have a DVD collection.

Porn. Relax
.

He groaned and scrubbed a hand over his face. The other hand slid down his gray sweats to grip his cock.

His mind went to the hard fuck he'd given Jade last night, how damn good that had felt physically, and he pondered if that was something he needed in his life—a physical outlet. Something that exhausted his body.

He gave his half-hard cock a slow but firm stroke.

And just as unbidden thoughts about Cam entered his mind, his phone rang.

Damn it all to hell.

Dragging his body off the couch, he adjusted himself and headed to the hallway where his phone was charging next to the pile of unopened mail. The caller ID said
Cameron Nash
.

Austin grinned and checked the time before answering. "You're still the birthday boy for another hour. Thought you'd be out partying."

Cam wasn’t amused.
"Do—do you have a m-minute?"

"What's wrong?" Austin was quick to wipe away any trace of humor. Worry spiked inside him, reminding him of Gale's question about whether or not he felt responsible for Cam. He'd never answered, because he didn’t know. "Are you having an anxiety attack?" For the past couple weeks, he had started reading articles and online journals about Asperger's on the internet, anything to understand more about Cam's disorder. It had freaked Austin out a bit in that metal cage, and he didn’t want to feel that way ever again.
Control
. "Tell me you've taken your pill." He knew Cam had medication for his anxiety disorder, but he also knew the guy hated to take them.