Savior: A Tattered Club Story (Tattered Social Club Series Book 1) (9 page)

Niko drove past the theater. The building was obviously in multiple stages of repair, but the ambiance of the vintage marquee radiated onto the street. “This place is cool. You live here?”

Niko slowed the car to turn onto the next street. They pulled into a small gravel parking lot behind the theater. “Yeah, the neighborhood isn’t the greatest, but it’s home. People like your asshole ex-boyfriend want to come in and rehab everything, even the people.”

The grip on Ethan’s chest tightened. He hadn’t grown up in the “neighborhoods” as he’d heard the area called so many times since he’d started at the university. Living in a make-shift museum furnished with white carpets and expensive artwork made him look like a primped house boy, but the truth was he had been a rainbow of colors living in a colorless canvas.

“I think it’s cool the owners are reno-ing the place.”

“Yeah.” Niko leaned behind the console to grab the bags. “We’ll leave your stuff in the trunk. You’re going to move into your place tomorrow so we’ll unload them there. Come on. I’m starving.”

Ethan hurried to open the car door and hopped out. Niko slung the black duffle bag over one shoulder and started toward an entrance that, if Ethan wasn’t following him, he’d never have known was there.

“This was the backstage entrance when they had plays and shit.” Niko opened the door, holding it for Ethan to pass. “I’m on the third floor.” They walked down a long corridor, maroon paint peeling from the walls and the smell of his grandma’s trunk in the attic permeating his nose. “That’s the elevator, but I take the stairs. You good to climb?”

Ethan smirked. “I may look like a wimp, but I’m in shape.”

Niko’s dark brow rose. The emerald irises scanned the yellow shirt covering Ethan’s chest. The fabric didn’t stretch over his pecs like Niko’s did. Being that big wasn’t an option no matter how much weight he lifted or how many protein supplements he took. At least being fit came naturally. He couldn’t complain.

“I can tell. You’re...you’ve got a nice—shit, come on.”

God, he wanted Niko to finish the thought. He’d been told many times, by many men at the club, that he had a nice body. Hearing the compliment come from Niko would feel different, like he wasn’t just saying the words to get into bed.

When they reached the third floor, Ethan peered through the winding shapes of the massive stained glass window. “Oh my God, this is beautiful. I can see why this place is named The Palace.”

The shrill of the metal door sliding across tracks brought his attention to where Niko had opened the gateway to his apartment. A pup came bouncing out of the dimly lit space. “This is Casper.”

The dog ran over to Ethan and rounded his feet, sniffing and pawing at his shoes. “He’s cute.”

“Yeah, and he knows it. I’ve got a couch down here or a futon in the loft. It’s not the most comfortable thing, but you can use it.”

Ethan followed close on Niko’s heels with Casper taking up the rear. Niko flipped the switch on the wall and two lamps lit the room, bathing the industrial area in a warm glow. Surprised the space wasn’t cluttered with guy stuff, Ethan walked past a long leather sofa, admiring the expanse of the living area. This was Niko. What lay underneath the weaves of tattoos curling down his arms and up his neck didn’t fit the puzzle pieces of where he lived.

Puzzle was right. Niko Malikov was an enigma.

They both got comfortable on the couch. Niko spread the food containers on the coffee table and Ethan grabbed one of the plastic forks. Ethan started shoving the warm rice in his mouth and Niko laughed.

“Slow down, skinny jeans. You’re going to make yourself sick. If you’re still hungry after this, I’ll fix you something else to eat.”

Heat flooded Ethan’s cheeks. He nodded and took a long drink from the glass of water. “Sorry.”

Niko cupped the back of Ethan’s neck. The gesture was probably meant to comfort like a brother would his younger sibling, but Ethan’s cock filled, swelling until the zipper stretched to contain his excitement.

Ethan tipped his head back like a cat wanting to be petted. At this point, whether Niko’s touch was meant to be just friendly or full-on enticing, he didn’t care. He liked Niko. Through all the macho bravado and denial, there was a man hardened by life, but relentless to live it on his terms. Ethan admired his courage. He’d taken the easy way out, sold his soul to the devil for the perfect deck of cards. The winning full house had turned out to be a losing hand.

“That feels nice,” he mumbled, leaning into Niko’s massaging fingers.

“I wanna kiss you,” he whispered low enough Ethan barely caught what he’d said. “Goddamn, I’ve never wanted something more in my life, but this isn’t for me, Ethan. I’m not like you.”

The words sawed through the warmth Niko had seeped into his body. “Not like me?” He leaned forward, grabbing the Styrofoam container of chicken. “Right. Got it. Not like me. I’m gay and you’re a straight man who can’t decide if he wants dick or pussy. You think this is the first time I’ve run into someone like you? Forget it. No big deal.”

But, it was a big deal. Niko sat back, propped his feet on the edge of the coffee table and forked a piece of broccoli into his mouth. What growing affection Ethan had dared to give way to had dead end written all over it. No sense in leaving himself open to insults and embarrassment. Like being gay was some zombie plague. Niko’s closet was so deep he was never going to find his way out of the bad boy dress shirts and faded jeans. That closet was locked and Ethan was done banging his head against the wall every guy put up.

The time had come to grow up. At least his father was right about one thing. Eventually he was going to have to face his future and, with twenty creeping up next month, now was that time.

God, he wanted someone to hold him. Even for one night, to make him feel special, not because of his pretty looks, but because he was sweet, kind, open-minded, and not up for just another fuck and, like Niko said, no breakfast in the morning.

Tonight he’d fall asleep on Niko’s couch and pretend. Tonight he’d close his eyes and shake off the fear that Charles was somewhere out there. Somewhere lurking in the shadows waiting to snatch him back and lock him into drowning chaos.

*****

Niko stood in the bathroom, the steam filling the small space threatening to choke him out. Jesus, what had he done, putting his hands on Ethan—let alone what had happened in the car? Like a vise tightening around his chest, grabbing Ethan’s hand had been the only thing helping him breathe. Just touching him everything seem right.

A faint knock made him turn away from the frosted mirror. “Do you want me to take Casper out? He’s sitting by the door.”

“I’ll be out in a minute.” Niko studied the back of the door hoping Ethan didn’t notice the hitch in his voice.

“Okay.”

Niko waited for him to say something else—anything. He wanted to hear that voice again. “Fuck it,” he tightened the towel around his waist and opened the door. As moist steam rolled out he took two steps down the hallway. Peering into the living room, he saw Ethan tug the yellow shirt over his head.

Lean sinew danced on either side of his spine as he pulled the T-shirt over his shoulders. The strips of muscles on the back of his arms flexed. He’d been a scrawny kid before beefing up to fight any fucker who met him on the streets.

But, Ethan wasn’t a scrawny kid. The tuck of his waist curved, melting into a pair of slender hips. Niko ran the palm of his hand down the bumps on his abdomen. Crunches and hang ups shaped the deep crevasses of his six pack, but not Ethan. Hell no. The indentions of his abs were thin strips of muscle with each compartment well defined. Niko thought about the swimmers on TV during the Olympics. He could’ve given a shit about the gold metals. Watching those bodies slice through the water, strong and slender as they gracefully lifted out of the pool, made him hard as a steel rod.

Niko slid his hand farther, cupping the heavy balls between his legs. Giving a slight squeeze, he bit his lip, fighting a moan. As his eyes melted closed he sighed, knowing this was all bullshit. He needed to call Samantha—maybe Amy or Rachel. At least he could get his dick sucked. That’d let some tension out before he exploded.

He braced his arm against the wall, tracing the outline of his dick before handling the growing length.

“You going to stand there and play with your balls all night or let your dog out?”

Fuck!
Niko raised his hand and gripped the fold of the towel against his waist. “Shut up,” he mumbled, walking down the hall to his bedroom, not daring to look back at what was sure to be a smartass grin on Ethan’s lips.

He threw on a pair of silky red basketball shorts and headed to the living room. As he passed the bathroom, he heard the shower running. The images of fluffy white suds cascading down Ethan’s lower back, trickling only to tip over the crest of two plump globes and slip between the crack made his dick throb.

Goddamn, he adjusted his junk and cursed all the way to the door where Casper was whining.

Niko waited for Casper to walk inside and slid the heavy door closed. The thunk of the latch made the lump on the couch move under a black-and-white checkered blanket. Niko flipped the switch on the wall, sending the room into darkness except for the light above the kitchen sink.

Good night was on the tip of his tongue, but he thought that would be a douchebag thing to say so he walked by the sofa and headed for the hallway.

“Good night.” The voice behind him sounded muffled.

He stopped at the entrance to the hall. “Yeah, good night.”

Total douchebag.

Casper jumped on the bed and sniffed as he wound in circles several times before settling at the right corner of the mattress. “Don’t look at me like that. He needs a place to stay. I’m just helping him out like The Professor did for me.”

“Niko?” The faint voice echoed from behind the closed door.

Niko froze with a pillow in his hand. He hesitated. What if he opened the door and Ethan was standing there in his underwear. What then? Would he be able to maintain the control he had with all the women he’d fucked? Shit. “Yeah?”

“Can I borrow a pair of shorts? My stuff’s in the trunk of the car. I can’t get comfortable in these pants.”

Niko smirked. “Too tight for ya, skinny jeans?”

He heard Ethan snicker. “No.”

“Open the door.” Niko walked to the dresser and opened a drawer to grab another pair of basketball shorts. “These are going to be too big for you.”

Ethan didn’t say anything. He stood with arms crossed against his naked chest. He tried to swallowed, but his throat locked when Niko moved his arms. The thick twin muscles of his chest flexed and relaxed. The ink between the two pale brown nipples rippled.

Ethan shifted his feet as the base of his cock thickened. “Do you always sleep in shorts?” He tried to look away, but the colors and shapes painted across Niko’s tight skin was too mesmerizing.

“No. Do you always stare at a man’s tattoos?”

Ethan snapped his gaze to meet Niko’s face. “No, but yours are...different than any I’ve ever seen. Why do you have
CONQUEROR
tattooed on your stomach?”

Niko turned to ruffle through the shorts, looking for a smaller pair. “You wouldn’t understand.” What he’d conquered was a source of insanity. Poverty, high school, his art, drugs, juvie, the sound of the gunshot—God, the list went on.

“You see me as a rich kid, don’t you, because I look like a pretty boy?”

Niko tossed the smallest shorts he owned in Ethan’s direction. “It doesn’t matter how I see you. If you have hang-ups, that’s on you. I’m sure you see me as some thug you’d be shitting your pants to meet on the street at night. I get it. I know who I am. You should know who you are.”

Watching Ethan look to the door and slowly nod made Niko’s chest ache—no fuck that, it made his heart clinch and burn. “Listen, get some sleep and we’ll figure out everything tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Ethan muttered. “Good night.”

This time Niko could give a fuck if he sounded like a pussy. “Good night.”

The flash of light sprayed throughout the room, bouncing off the light-grey walls.
Crack!
Casper yelped and thumped over the mattress to where Niko was sprawled out under the covers. “It’s okay, little man.” Niko scuffed the pup behind its white ear. “Just a storm.”
Crack!
Light engulfed the bedroom again. “Shit.” If the smashing sound of the thunder was loud in the bedroom, the noise had to be ten times louder in the living room.

Niko shoved one of the pillows over his face.
Goddammit.
Why should he care if Ethan was awake? He tossed the pillow back on the bed. “Shit.”

CHAPTER FIVE

“Hey.” Ethan turned around, secretly grateful Niko had come out of the bedroom. He’d been watching the white flashes slice through the sky like lasers for a bit with the knot in his gut getting tighter and tighter. “Why aren’t you on the couch?”

Thunder cracked and Ethan felt like a fool when he jumped. “I wanted to see the lightning.”
Liar.
I can’t sleep. I’m scared.

He turned back, peering out the wall of windows, waiting for the next boom of thunder. “I know.” Niko’s voice whispered across the back of his neck. Every nerve ending spiked from the tip of his ears to the bulge starting to swell beneath his shorts. “It can be weird to wake up in a place you don’t know. I’ve slept so many places, it was strange to wake up twice in the same room.”

“Yeah? I used to hate waking up at Charles’s place.” Niko’s soft breaths hovered over Ethan’s naked shoulder. The warmth seeped through his skin, teasing him to recline into the heat of Niko’s chest. “Sometimes he’d be standing over my bed, just staring at me. It made me want to throw up. He insisted I sleep without anything on.”

Ethan welcomed the heat when two fingers tapped the outside of his hand. He glanced over his shoulder before turning around. Niko was close, the bareness of his right side painted in broken shadows. Ethan could barely make out the letters cascading from the top of his ribs to his hip.
Blackout.