Shades of Gray (23 page)

Miller didn’t answer, sat heavily on the edge of the bed. He would never forget the way she’d looked at him, her eyes drowning in sorrow. It would have been easier if she’d been angry, called him names, or thrown his ring back in his face. But that wasn’t Rachel’s way. She got her point across using guilt and regret.

“What did you tell her?” Danny asked, leaning back against the dresser, kicking off his boots with a thud.

“I don’t know,” Miller sighed. “Nothing she believed.”

“Do you want her to believe it?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Is that what you want?” Danny’s voice was mild, unfazed by Miller’s glare. “To step back into that life you had, the one where you were going to marry Rachel?” Danny kept his eyes glued to Miller’s, not letting him look away.

“It doesn’t matter. I don’t know if I can step back into that life.” Shades of Gray | 177

“I’m not talking about ‘can’, Miller. I’m talking about what you want.”

Miller pressed his lips together, shaking his head in denial, his fingers tying crazy knots in his lap.

“How long have you been fighting it?” Danny asked, his voice quiet. “Fighting who you really are?”

Miller lay back on the bed, covering his eyes with one arm.

That’s one of those questions it’s about time you answered, don’t you
think?

He heard the sound of Danny’s jacket landing on a chair, felt the bed dip when Danny stretched out next to him. “You can talk to me, Miller,” Danny said, his finger stroking along Miller’s jaw. “How long?”

Miller opened his mouth, choking back a sob he hadn’t known was waiting there. “I don’t know,” he whispered. “My whole life, probably.”

“That’s a hard secret to keep. Especially from yourself.” Danny’s lips were soft against Miller’s hand, his long body curving against Miller’s side. “Did your mom know?”

Miller shrugged. “If she did, she never said anything. But I think maybe she suspected. She was always more careful with me somehow, like she was avoiding something painful, stepping lightly.”

“What about your dad?”

“I don’t think so. I doubt it. It wouldn’t have occurred to him…

that he might have a son who was….” He let his voice fade, not able to say the word. Another sob slammed against the back of his teeth. He’d never known he was such a coward. “Danny?”

“
Hmm
?” His warm fingers still trailed over Miller’s jaw, soft and soothing.

“How did you know… about me?”

“I didn’t, not at first.”

“When?”

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“I had an inkling that day on the park bench. Something in the way you looked at me. I was so goddamn attracted to you.” Miller could hear the smile in Danny’s voice. “And the way you stared at me then, I thought maybe… maybe you were feeling it too.” Miller blew out a shuddering breath. “I felt it. I didn’t want to, but I did.”

“Look at me,” Danny whispered, pulling on Miller’s arm. “Look at me.”

Miller withdrew his arm, turning his head when Danny put gentle pressure against his cheek. “There’s nothing wrong with you, Miller.

It’s like having blond hair or freckles.” His smile was tender and crooked as his finger brushed across Miller’s nose. “It’s just who you are.”

“Nobody’s ashamed of having freckles, Danny.” Danny’s eyes flared, his hand yanking hard in Miller’s hair. “You don’t have to be ashamed. That’s a choice you’re making.”

“I can’t accept it the way you can.” Miller looked up at the ceiling, tears battling against his eyelids.

Danny flipped onto his back, both of them staring at the ceiling as if it were a sea of stars instead of dingy white plaster clustered with stains. “You’ll never be happy with her,” Danny said finally.

Miller wanted to be angry, to ask Danny what the fuck he knew about it anyway, but he couldn’t muster the energy. It was hard to be self-righteous when your bluff was called. “I know,” he said instead.

Danny rolled on top of him and cradled Miller’s face between his hands. “I hated seeing her there. With you.” His voice was fierce. “I hated it.”

Miller hooked his legs around Danny’s, arching his hips up, holding Danny prisoner with his body. “Now you know how I feel about Griff,” he said between clenched teeth.

Danny’s head jerked back. “What?”

“I met him. And it made me crazy, thinking about you and Shades of Gray | 179

him….” Miller captured Danny’s earring between his lips.

Danny’s breath stuttered in his chest as Miller’s tongue snaked behind his earlobe. “When did you meet him?”

“A few weeks ago. Wanted to see if he knew anything about Hinestroza.” That was as close as he could come to telling Danny the truth. He didn’t have the courage to be honest about Ortiz or to let Danny know how dangerous it had felt to sit across from Griff, how Miller had thought maybe he could kill him if he said the wrong thing—made Miller visualize too clearly what Griff and Danny had done together in bed. How ever since, Miller wondered if he, who had never been with a man before Danny, could possibly compete with someone like Griff, who oozed sex out of every pore.

Miller pushed off with his leg, using his weight to flip them over and pin Danny against the mattress. Danny moaned, low and sensual, as Miller licked his way up his body. “Did he ever make you feel this good?” Miller growled, lips curving over Danny’s stomach, tongue running through the hair on his chest as Danny’s white T-shirt bunched up under his arms.

Jealousy wasn’t an emotion Miller was familiar with; he hadn’t mastered tricks for handling it or learned secrets of containment the way he had with other unpleasant feelings. He wasn’t used to the harsh scrape of pain when he heard Griff’s name, like being whipped on the inside. He couldn’t seem to clamp down on the uncertainty quickly enough, wasn’t able to stop himself from wondering what exactly Danny had felt for that man, what he still felt, whether Miller was only getting what was left over.

Danny’s eyes were foggy with lust, his throat vibrating under Miller’s mouth as he groaned when Miller stroked him through his jeans, fast and rough. “Did he ever make you come as hard as I did last night?” Miller demanded. He could hear the insecurity behind his words but didn’t know how to hide it, his hand digging into Danny’s thigh. “Did he?”

Miller waited for Danny to say something smartass, talk dirty, maybe. But Danny just stared at him with wide eyes, searching his face.

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“Did he?” Miller asked again, his voice cracking.

Danny brought one hand up, passing his fingers over Miller’s mouth. “Shhh,” he soothed. “It’s all right, Miller. There’s no reason for you to be jealous.” He pressed against Miller’s lower lip with his thumb, his eyes gentle. “I never loved him.”

“Danny,” Miller moaned, burying his face in Danny’s neck. He knew what Danny was telling him, wished he could say something back, something that Danny would be able to hold onto when he left.

But in the end Miller had to be content to tell Danny without words, rocking inside him, his body whispering all the things he could not say.

THE shards of light coming in through the curtains cut across Danny’s face as he slept, the shadows playing on his skin. He was the most gorgeous thing Miller had ever seen, like a Greek god or an ancient statue in some museum. Miller kissed his bare shoulder, running his tongue along the protruding bone.

Colin had called ten minutes ago, waking Miller out of a sound sleep but not disturbing Danny. They’d found Ortiz, or thought they had. No fingerprints or dental records, but a neighbor had identified him when his body was discovered eleven years ago in an abandoned warehouse outside Dallas. Tortured and shot in the stomach, left to bleed to death on the concrete floor. Even with all his injuries, the medical examiner had said in her report that it probably took a long time for him to die. No suspects, although Ortiz’s neighbor thought he was involved with drugs. The local police found cocaine in his apartment when they searched it, a fairly big stash. No fingerprints at the warehouse, no physical evidence, just lots and lots of blood.

Danny hadn’t had any more bad dreams, not since Miller had been sleeping beside him. His demons were resting now. But come morning Miller was going to have to drag them out from their gloomy hiding places, force them into the light. No more stalling, no more excuses. He had to know the truth. Miller almost hoped the truth would be something he could not bear, answers so horrible they would Shades of Gray | 181

transform Danny before his eyes, turn him into a monster and not a man, not the man Miller wanted so damn much. He recognized his own desperation—searching for anything that would make it easier for him to let Danny go.

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THEY cut off Ortiz’s thumb first, just to ensure they had Danny’s
undivided attention.

Danny had known something was wrong the minute Madrigal
picked him up for the hastily arranged meeting with Hinestroza, who
was in town for a few days. Madrigal had been too eager when he’d
appeared on Danny’s doorstep, humming with anticipation, giving
Danny sidelong glances filled with smirking glee. The dull press of
worry had escalated to the sharp edge of panic when they’d reached
the warehouse and Madrigal had marched Danny inside, his hand
biting into Danny’s bicep as he shoved him into a cold, metal folding
chair.

Ortiz was already seated, his ankles duct-taped to the narrow
chair legs, his torso bound with a thick black cord, his eyes taking up
all the room in his face. Hinestroza was sitting behind a long, narrow
table, his face serious, hands clasped as though he were about to begin
an important business meeting. Another man, one of Madrigal’s
assistants, stood next to Hinestroza’s chair.

“Mr. Hinestroza, what—” Danny choked out.

“Danny—”

“What’s going on?” Danny turned to look at Ortiz. “What
happened?”

“Danny.” Hinestroza’s voice was icy with reprimand; he did not
like being interrupted.

Shades of Gray | 183

“Mr. Hinestroza, whatever’s going on, I can explain it. I can—”

“You can explain the cocaine that was stolen from the last
shipment?” Hinestroza’s eyebrows went up. “Well, then, I’d be very
interested to hear about that, Danny.”

Danny’s stomach contracted into a tiny ball, terror worming its
way into every cell of his body. “Ortiz,” he moaned. “What the fuck
did you do?”

“Danny. Danny!” Hinestroza snapped, but Danny was too
frightened to acknowledge him, his brain trying frantically to come up
with a lie, something that would stop this before it was too late. Out of
the corner of his eye he saw Hinestroza motion to Madrigal, who
stepped forward, grasping Ortiz’s wrist with strong fingers.

“Wait!” Danny cried, eyes skidding from Ortiz to Madrigal to
Hinestroza and back again. His blood was pounding in his ears. He
couldn’t hear, couldn’t focus, didn’t know if he should watch or look
away, didn’t know whether to beg or fight.

Ortiz was trying to resist, pulling back his arm as Madrigal
dragged it slowly forward. Madrigal slammed Ortiz’s arm down onto
the table, his straight razor flicked open with an expert hand.

“Mr. Hinestroza, wait, maybe it’s a mistake, maybe he can
explain—”

Madrigal’s voice was hollow in Danny’s ears, as if he was
speaking from the other end of a tunnel, his words coming to Danny
from a long distance. “Lay your fucking hand flat, Ortiz, or I’ll cut the
whole thing off.”

The blade whispered through the air, the metallic clank when it
connected
overpowered by Ortiz’s scream, high and desperate—not a
human sound, more like an animal caught in a trap, the fear spiraling
higher with each breath. His blood flew out in a shimmering arc, fat,
dark drops sliding over the edge of the table onto the dirty floor.

Someone was moaning, a harsh, keening cry. Danny didn’t even
realize it was his own voice until Hinestroza called his name, jerking
him back to reality. Danny turned his head in what felt like slow
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motion, made stupid by shock, his eyes bulging out of their sockets.

“Your friend here, the one you recommended for a job, he’s been
stealing from me,” Hinestroza informed him once Danny met his eyes.

Danny licked his lips, trying to work up some spit. He could see
Ortiz next to him, cradling his ravaged hand. “He’s addicted, Mr.

Hinestroza,” Danny managed, his words made almost unintelligible by
his shaking body. “He wouldn’t have done it otherwise.”
Hinestroza laughed. “I don’t care if he has to snort it every ten
seconds to stay alive, Danny. That cocaine was mine!” He slammed his
fist into the table. “And no one steals from me.” His voice was quiet
now, gentle. “You know that.”