SafetyInNumbers-Final (4 page)

Now Owen was in his arms and it felt like he was standing on a precipice. If he was strong enough to take the first step, he could help not just Owen and himself, but Billy and Liam too. It didn’t matter if he didn’t believe himself capable, he knew they believed it because they looked to him so often, and maybe that was enough.

The trip upstairs didn’t take long, but it felt like each step was leading him on a life-changing journey. He eased Owen onto the bed and stepped back. Even bleeding all over the place, Owen still took his breath away and Chris couldn’t resist leaning down to brush a dark curl off Owen’s forehead. Just that simple touch caused Owen to twitch and then those Connor eyes were blinking up at him in confusion. “Chris?”

Was it possible that if he helped them make those changes, he could find the future he stopped believing in? Would it be in the arms of the beautiful, damaged man lying in his bed that he longed for with all his heart? Could he use their belief in him to find the courage to move past the fear that kept him silent for far too long?

Owen struggled to a sitting position and winced when he saw the damage to his hands. “Chris, what happened? Did I...did I really hit you? Oh fuck...fuck...you were talking to me. You were, right? I wasn’t hallucinating, was I?”

Chris watched helplessly as Owen drew his legs up, curling his upper body around his bent knees, and started pulling at his beautiful curls. “What the fuck is wrong with me?”

Now there was a loaded question. Chris eased onto the bed and gently pried Owen’s hands from his hair. He loved those curls and was going to be the only one that pulled them. Preferably while he was buried in Owen’s body.

“Other than that you’re too stubborn for your own good—” Chris smiled when Owen’s head snapped up. “—there’s not a damn thing wrong with you.”

“Now I know that’s a lie because I’m hallucinating that you’re talking to me.” Owen reached out and traced his lips. “Say something else.”

“Kinda hard to do with your finger over my mouth.” Chris laughed outright when Owen snatched his hand away. “You’re not hallucinating or dreaming or crazy or fucked up or any of that other crap.” When Owen just blinked up at him in a daze, Chris asked, “You’re not gonna pass out again, are you?”

“You’re really talking to me?” Owen asked softly. When Chris nodded, Owen threw himself forward, wrapping Chris up in shaky arms. With a heart-wrenching sob, he begged, “Don’t stop. I’ve been waiting so long to talk to you. Please, don’t stop.”

“I won’t stop.” Chris held him close and felt tears pool in his own eyes. Instead of being afraid, he felt a weight loosen from his chest. More than the words, everything about Owen’s embrace said he mattered and Chris was going to do everything in his power to hold on to that.

After years of feeling worthless and at fault for ruining Liam’s life, he wanted to be worthy of what Owen saw in him, of what they all saw in him. He wanted a future and could only pray that he wouldn’t hurt Liam again in the process.

Chapter 4

Billy

“Is Owen all right?” Billy saw the weary look on Liam’s face as he closed the bedroom door and felt his stomach clench in response. Sometimes he looked so innocent that Billy just wanted to wrap him in a protective bubble where nothing could hurt him again. Unfortunately, Liam would probably kick his ass for trying.

“He’s out of control.” Liam flopped onto the bed, his hair fanning out around him, and it made Billy’s breath catch. He was the total boy-next-door with that sun-kissed hair, golden skin, and those sultry, brown, bedroom eyes. He was the all-star—not just the top jock, but valedictorian of his class—every girl’s fantasy and every closeted gay boy’s wet dream. Billy had zero understanding of why Liam was interested in a grizzly, jaded, tatted up former gang banger and that was just one of the reasons he didn’t pounce as soon as Liam’s back hit the bed. “He was wailing on that punching bag so hard his knuckles were bleeding. Literally bleeding.”

Prison changed most people, but not Owen. He didn’t develop the thick skin and sharp edges needed to survive not only prison, but life in general. Billy hadn’t been prepared for a dependent and, had he realized where Owen’s head was at, it was entirely possible he would have left him to fend for himself. That’s just the type of man he was back then, even knowing Owen’s enemies would have killed him at the first chance. Not knowing if he was still that type of man was yet another reason not to pounce on Liam and beg for attention.

Thankfully, he hadn’t immediately realized that Owen wasn’t learning from him, he was simply following his advice as if they were orders. If Billy told him to step right, he stepped right. If Billy told him to fight, he fought. It had gotten to the point that Owen didn’t eat, sleep, or shit unless Billy gave the command. Once he realized what was happening, Owen had somehow crawled under his skin. In so many ways, saving Owen had given him a second chance at life.

His mother had given up on him and the brothers who once looked up to him, feared him. But the reputation he’d developed made him a target and it was either keep fighting or die. When he realized Owen looked up to him and needed him, he saw it as his way of atoning for all the times he let his family down. Though walking away would have been easier, he resolved not to let Owen down too. Still, no one was more surprised than him when they both walked out of prison alive.

To say that he and Liam were complete opposites might not be doing the disparity justice. Liam grew up in middle-class suburbia, in a cute little ranch-style house with a manicured lawn surrounded by a white picket fence. Or at least that’s how Billy imagined all of middle-class suburbia looked. He had a father who supported, encouraged, and loved him. That it was all an illusion didn’t change the nineteen years that he lived it. Then the veil had been ripped away and his world literally stopped. Time marched on, but Liam was still trapped in that moment and unable to reconcile the truth about the man who raised him.

Growing up in the projects, the only fences Billy saw were reinforced with barbed wire in an effort to keep trash like him out. Fighting had been a way of life and they quickly escalated from fists and bottles to knives and guns. Guns had never been his weapon of choice; he found them too impersonal. If he was invested enough to hurt someone, he wanted to be close enough to see the pain in their eyes as his blade penetrated their flesh. Sick? Yes, and it was reason number three why Liam was not presently naked and writhing beneath him.

“I don’t get it.” Liam sighed as he rolled so they were face to face. “Is hurting himself really easier than going to Chris?”

“For Owen? Yeah.” Billy couldn’t resist reaching for Liam and tugging him closer. Those three reasons didn’t stack up against Liam’s sigh of contentment or the way he immediately snuggled in, silently demanding that Billy hold him tighter. “He can’t ask for help.”

“Why not?” The words whispered across his bare chest and threatened to derail the whole conversation. “I don’t get it.”

“He told me that he started hating Bull when they were just kids. Some bullies on the playground were harassing him and Bull came to his defense.” That had Liam frowning harder. Of course he wouldn’t understand how that could make things worse. “The next time they got him alone, they tormented him for needing his big brother. He said Bull was always a big kid and no one messed with him. Whereas he was always the runt, the one they went after constantly. If he didn’t run to Bull for help, they didn’t pick on him as much.”

“That’s fucked up.” Liam’s whole body vibrated with his outrage. “But it’s not Bull’s fault.”

“No, of course not, and Owen knows that now. But when you're getting your ass handed to you every day, logic goes out the window.” Billy tightened his arms. Like Bull, he’d always been big and he knew for a fact that was one of the draws for Liam. “He’s lost, afraid of everything, low on self-esteem, and believes that asking for help proves he’s weaker. At the same time, he craves someone who will take care of him, ground him, make him feel safe, and help him rebuild his confidence.”

“That’s why he tried his hand in leather clubs. He thought he needed...what...a Dom?”

“Pretty much and the right Dom in the right relationship could very well have given him all those things. Look at Saul with Javier and Kyle. Or Ty with Chase.” Billy knew Liam had trouble understanding the relationships their friends had. He’d gone from being a hotshot nineteen year old on the fast track to a puppet waiting for Chris to pull the next string. Not because he was seeking guidance or craved security, but because his whole world had imploded and the people who should have helped, failed him. Failed them both. Every time he thought about Chris and Liam in prison, one physically broken and the other emotionally destroyed, Billy just wanted to hurt someone.

A calming hand stroked through the hair on his chest and he looked down to see Liam’s understanding smile. Did Liam really understand him? He wasn’t sure what it would mean if he did. It certainly wasn’t something he was prepared to know now, so he forced himself to focus on the original question. “But it’s not some magic cure. Again, look at Saul and Javier. Saul did everything in his power to hold Javier together while keeping them alive and it took its toll on both of them. In the end, Javier’s issues were too extensive and he needed professional help. He was able to recognize that and to take that step because of the safe environment Saul built for him.”

“I think Chris would like that role.” Liam pursed his lips thoughtfully and Billy had to fight the sudden urge to take a kiss. “The caretaker role. He’s been taking care of me since...well, since…”

The last thing Billy wanted to talk about was why Chris was taking care of Liam. The few times Liam did try to talk about it, it hadn’t gone well. In that respect, Billy believed Javier and Liam were alike. Liam needed to talk to someone about what happened that night and how it made him feel about his father, his brother,
and
himself. No matter what bullshit they told the police, Billy didn’t believe Liam was capable of killing his father, not even in the heat of the moment. After suffering constant abuse, he had no trouble believing Chris was not only capable of it, he’d bet his last dollar that Chris enjoyed seeing the pain and feeling the blade as it took the life of the monster once and for all.

“I don’t think, I
know
Chris would thrive in that role.” In fact, he was counting on it. Chris’s natural caretaker attitude was just one of many qualities that made even a former gang banger like himself want to bend his knee in submission. Billy understood the lifestyle, though he’d never played in it like their friends did, and would never have considered himself submissive to anyone until he met Chris. Actually, he still wasn’t sure he’d consider himself submissive, though he’d bend over backwards to make Liam happy.

What he did know with absolute certainty was that he wanted Liam, that he couldn’t be trusted with Liam on his own, and that Chris would protect Liam with his life. Chris would hold him accountable for Liam’s safety and happiness, and Billy needed that from someone strong enough to stop him from sliding back into the old life.

“What would Chris get out of it?” Liam asked as he continued petting the pelt that covered Billy’s torso. He never gave much thought to the hair on his body until Liam started touching him. That he couldn’t seem to get enough of the coarse hair or the bulky muscle underneath kind of surprised Billy. It was just another way in which they were opposite. Liam was long and smooth, strong but lean, and the light dusting of gold hair was baby fine. “Put your leg between mine, Billy, let me feel it.”

How was a man supposed to resist? He might be bigger, stronger, and crazier, but Liam held a power over him that he wasn’t sure was healthy. Luckily, he cared more for the way Liam sighed happily as he nudged one hairy, muscular thigh between two of the softest legs he’d ever felt than he ever did about healthy. “Better?”

“Perfect.” Liam pressed a tender kiss to his sternum in thanks and shot him an amused grin. “I love when you do what I tell you.”

“Yeah, you might have a little dominant side, huh?” Billy was only half teasing.

“Naw, well, not like Saul or Ty.” Again those lips pursed in concentration and Billy knew he was fighting a losing battle. Before the sun rose, he would have those lips under his. “I like when you go all Billy Bear on me and hold me down with all that bulk. That’s not very dominant of me, is it?”

Honest to whatever god might be listening, Billy swore he was trying to be good. He really was. “Dominance isn’t really a physical thing, it’s mental. Having a strong will that others recognize and defer to.”

“You’re describing Chris, not me,” Liam corrected. “He’s way more than all that muscle.”

“You’re actually supporting my argument.” It was very telling that Liam didn’t see him that way. Chris was a beast and at least half of that impression was the strong will that made him the dominant one in Liam’s eyes. Even Owen, who had once deferred to Billy, saw Chris as the alpha male. And since Billy was counting on Chris to keep him in line, it would be a lie to say he didn’t see Chris the way they did.

“How so?” Liam asked and Billy really wanted to answer him. Unfortunately, Liam chose that moment to wiggle around until his balls were pressing against Billy’s thigh and the thin material of Liam’s sleep pants only proved that he’d gone commando. A man only had so much willpower. “Billy?”