SafetyInNumbers-Final (6 page)

Chris didn’t know anyone who would say such a thing to him and maybe that’s exactly why he felt more comfortable talking to Ty. The cops tried to tell him there had to be another way. They tried to convince him that talking to a teacher or guidance counselor, or calling them would have ended it. They were fucking liars. Nothing was going to stop David and trying to get help would have only made it worse. Not that killing David had made things better—in the end he wound up ruining Liam’s life anyway—but at least David couldn’t hurt either of them and that reassurance made him feel better than it probably should have.

“Defending yourself and your brother, even with deadly force, doesn’t make you a killer, Chris.” Ty stepped closer and put a hand on his shoulder. “Taking satisfaction in getting justice for yourself doesn’t make you a killer either.”

“The world would disagree.” Everyone called him a killer. The cops. The newspapers. Liam’s family. His own mother.

“Who in your world
would disagree? Your friends? Owen? Liam?” Ty shook his head. “Not even for a second. Even as messed up as Owen is, he would fight to defend himself. And Liam...it’s fucked up because it was his father, but the way I hear it, he jumped right into the fight, didn’t he? And took equal credit for the killing. So who in your world would disagree? And if not them, who the hell else matters?”

“Yeah.” Who the hell else mattered? His mother? She’d let David get away with it, so why did her opinion matter now? It didn’t, and he had to stop letting it. “You’re right.”

“It’s about time you realized it.” Ty laughed softly and walked away.

He wasn’t about to admit to that—Ty would be hell to work with if he did. “Talking might help Owen.”

“Eh, maybe. It certainly helped Javier, but only after knowing Durango was dead.” Ty had a good point, but he had a feeling the life Owen was forced to take in prison had the opposite effect.

“He...I think he’s like Chase.” Chris knew that wasn’t exactly true. Chase was extremely confident, Ty’s equal in every way, and their power dynamic was perfectly balanced the way they wanted.

Ty laughed outright at that and didn’t stop even when Chris glared. “Okay, okay, I get it. You think he’s a sub?”

“Yeah. He used to belong to some exclusive leather club here in Miami.” Now that he had Ty’s full attention, he wasn’t sure why he brought it up. “Uh, yeah, so…”

“Well, that actually makes perfect sense.” Ty assessed him and nodded as if he approved of what he saw. “You definitely have that whole dommy air of authority thing down.”

“Dommy air of authority?” Sometimes he didn’t know if he could take Ty seriously. “Really?”

“What? I don’t have a permanent stick up my ass like Clay.” Ty chuckled at his own joke and waved a hand in the air. “You are very definitely an alpha male. Titles, labels, and protocols don’t make you that any more than they make Owen submissive. Everyone falls on the spectrum somewhere and the BDSM lifestyle is only one of many ways to express it.”

“Chase calls you Master.” Chris was on the fence as to whether that was weird or just plain hot. Mostly he was leaning toward weird. “I’m not sure how I’d feel if Owen called me that.”

“He does and I love it, but I’m still his Master even when he calls me by my name.” Ty seemed to be weighing his words before he said, “I honestly can’t picture you in some formal D/s relationship, but if you and Owen decided on some sort of power dynamic, you would have to define what works for both of you. If titles bother you, set them aside. It won’t change how Owen sees you or how you are with him. Whether he calls you Sir, Master, or just Chris, you’ll still be the authority figure he craves. Why limit yourself with labels?”

“How do we define what works for both of us?” He didn’t want to limit himself or Owen. Just the opposite. He wanted to help Owen thrive so that he could thrive. “You do realize I’ve never been in a romantic relationship, right? I have zero clue how to figure this out.”

“You talk and keep talking, and never close those lines of communication,” Ty said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Here’s the secret. Every relationship has a power balance. Even in the most vanilla of relationships, someone has the final say and sometimes the decision maker fluctuates between circumstances. It may be defined, like Chase and I, or it may be more fluid. You won’t know what’s right for you or Owen until you talk
to Owen
.”

“Right, talk, because I’m so good at that.” Chris felt like a hundred pound weight had settled on his shoulders. Talking was not his thing.

“You’re talking to me now,” Ty pointed out, again with the obvious.

“I don’t want to fuck you.” Chris figured that should be obvious too.

“Good thing for you! Chase would kick your ass all over Miami.” Ty looked entirely too pleased by that thought. “You may be overthinking this whole thing. The two of you have been dancing around your attraction for months, right? Add in the whole ‘who’s messed up in the head more’ thing and it seems insurmountable. Start with something simple. A date. Something you both enjoy so you’ll both be comfortable. Shelve all talk about the past crap and just enjoy spending time together. If he’s looking for some sort of power dynamic, you’ll see it in his actions.”

“I already see it in his actions! The way he defers to me, the way they all defer to me. Like I can fix everything for them.” Chris slammed the locker closed and rested his forehead against it. “What if I can’t?”

“Them? Are we talking about Billy and Liam now?” Ty came and leaned back against the locker, peering at him closely. “That whole freaky foursome thing is crazy weird.” Chris just grunted in agreement. Weird was an understatement. “Only you and Liam know what happened that tipped the balance of power in your favor, but he’s definitely more comfortable with you having it. If you need proof that you’re not a cold-blooded killer, that’s it right there. As for Billy...ask him. I know he’s got some scary ass shit in his past and that fascination with knives cannot be ignored. Do you trust him with Liam? Does he trust himself? You gotta ask these things.”

“So talking is your answer to everything even though you said talking doesn’t fix shit.” Chris tilted his head so Ty could see the look on his face. “I call bullshit.”

“You want solutions, you gotta ask the fucking questions and listen to the fucking answers. Then you take the fucking action that fixes all the fucking shit.” Ty walked away and started shutting off the lights. “That’s my
fucking
advice. Talk, listen, and act. You can tell me that I’m right later.”

Chris grinned as they started closing the bay doors. He knew Ty was right, but he would definitely wait until later to tell him. Not that Ty needed any sort of validation, and Chris envied that. Maybe that was his problem. He was looking for validation that he was good, that he was worthy, and that he mattered.

“Did you always have that fuck-it attitude?” Chris asked as they crossed the lot.

“No.” Ty swung a leg over his bike and looked serious for the first time all afternoon. “My father was a lot like your step-father. Believing that it was my fault meant letting him win. Are you going to let that bastard win?”

Was David still winning years after he was dead? No, he couldn’t let that happen. “I don’t want to let him win.”

“Then don’t. It’s not a process to work through or talk through, it’s a conscious decision to stop letting him in your head. Just decide and fuck the rest of it.” It seemed so simple, but everything about Ty’s expression said it was the most powerful decision he ever made. “Six on Thursday?”

“Yeah,” Chris agreed. “You’re closing the shop early?”

“Naw, Billy’s going to try his hand at closing it.” Ty asked if he trusted Billy with Liam, but it seemed pretty telling that Ty trusted Billy with his new shop. “Bring Owen.”

Chris watched Ty pull away and realized he felt better than he had in a long time. Lighter. Talk, listen, and act—it sounded like a solid plan. Now all he had to do was implement it.

Chapter 6

Owen

“Hey, is Chris home yet?” Owen followed the smells into the kitchen and found Javier at the stove. Music was playing from the small radio on the counter and Javier was bopping around as he cooked. It was becoming a familiar scene that he was starting to associate with home. When he first moved in, he still felt like an outcast, but the guys refused to let him distance himself too much. He didn’t know why, but he was too grateful to ask and risk having them stop.

“I haven’t seen him. Come here and taste this. I need to know if it needs more salt.” Javier turned a bright smile his way and held up a spoon. Owen instinctively reached for it, only to have Javier jerk back in surprise. “What happened to your hands?”

The spoon clattered to the counter as Javier grabbed up both his hands in concern. “It’s nothing…”

“Don’t tell me it’s nothing.” Javier tugged him toward a chair and all but pushed him into it. “Do you need ice? Did you go to the ER? Shit. Saul!”

“No, please don’t do that. Chris already took care of it.” Owen cringed when Saul came running into the kitchen. Their concern was as touching as it was embarrassing and he didn’t know what to do with it. “I promise, it’s not as bad as it looks.”

Saul stroked a comforting hand down Javier’s back before pulling out the chair next to his and straddling it. “This have something to do with the blood I found in the basement?”

“Uh.” Owen ducked his head. He hadn’t even thought about any mess he might have left in the basement. “Yeah, you see, I couldn’t sleep and, well…”

“I thought I cleaned it all up.” Liam spoke as he came to stand beside Owen. The protective stance from the younger man only embarrassed him more.

Saul didn’t acknowledge Liam at all. “Owen, can I see your hands?”

“Chris took care of it,” he repeated, tucking his hands between his knees.

“I heard you say that.” Saul’s voice was low and soothing. It was the same tone he used when Javier had one of his meltdowns and damn if it wasn’t working on him now. “But you’ve been on a construction site all day, right? Whatever’s under those bandages might need to be cleaned again so nothing doesn’t become something.”

Saul was right, of course, but he didn’t want Saul to take care of him. Or Liam to stand protectively over him. He just wanted Chris. “Yeah, maybe, but...but I’ll wait for Chris.”

“Wait for Chris for what?” Kyle asked as he came in the side door balancing a couple of grocery bags. Javier gave him one last concerned look before rushing over to help. “Check those out, love. Make sure I got what you needed.”

Owen watched Kyle greet Saul and Javier, and flushed when Saul’s eyes immediately returned to him. Kyle looked around the room curiously and drifted back toward Javier. “What’s going on?”

“Owen hurt his hands and he won’t let Saul look at them.” At Javier’s petulant response, Owen couldn’t resist rolling his eyes. Were they in kindergarten now? Even Saul was grinning at their antics.

“The kiddies are worried about you,” Saul teased. When Kyle and Javier huffed, Saul’s grin got bigger. “It’s tough to grasp, I know, you being so warm and fuzzy and shit, but that’s what it is.”

“I’m warm and fuzzy,” Owen argued defensively.

“I would have said prickly,” Kyle piped in. “If you were asking me.”

“Like a porcupine,” Javier quickly backed him up.

Liam coughed to cover up a chuckle and Owen treated him to his dirtiest glare. “Weren’t you helping me a second ago?”

“Uh, yeah, but they’re right.” Liam shrugged and abandoned him in favor of tasting whatever Javier was cooking. “You’re like a prickly little porcupine.”

“I was wondering what you were hiding under that beanie,” Billy teased as he strolled into the kitchen. “Is that where you keep your quills or spines or whatever they call those little spikey things?”

“Really, you too?” Owen folded his arms, tucking his bandaged hands in his pits, and glared at the whole bunch of them. “Do y’all plan these little gang bangs or does it just happen naturally?”

Kyle snickered and leaned over to Javier to whisper loudly, “He said gang bang.”

“Honestly.” Owen bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. He normally hated being the butt of the joke, but he was beginning to understand that it wasn’t malicious. They all joked and ribbed each other, and it was all in good fun. His inability to laugh at himself was what made it uncomfortable.

“Oh my god, I think he’s smiling.” Javier came closer and got right in his face. “It is! It’s a smile!”

“Am not.” Shit, now he sounded like he was five.

“It’s okay, prickly little porcupine, you can show us your handsome smile.” Javier placed a loud kiss on his beanie covered head. Damn it, now he really was smiling. “See, it didn’t hurt at all.”

That seemed to get everyone moving. Javier went back to the stove, Kyle grabbed his laptop bag and headed for the stairs, and Billy and Liam started setting the table. Only Saul didn’t move and that considering stare was beginning to weigh him down. He was never sure what Saul thought about him or, really, what anyone thought about him. They all had this family dynamic going on, watching each other’s backs, putting up with each other’s problems, and they kept trying to make him believe he was part of that. It just wasn’t something he knew what to do with, so he often reverted to the role he knew well, being the outcast. Realizing he was doing it to himself didn’t make it easier to accept. Or change.