Tough Love (29 page)

Steve leaned against Chenco’s body and said nothing else, but he was calmer now, more centered and relaxed. Chenco felt proud, as if for once he wasn’t the kid who needed saving but the boyfriend who could save right back.

On the day before they left, Chenco agreed to a ride with Steve over to Edinburg.

It had been Chenco’s idea. His freak-out over the almost trip with Randy had been gnawing at him, and now that he was
leaving
, he felt he should return. He was terrified all the way over, but while Steve made it clear they could turn around at any time, Chenco stuck to his guns. He owed himself a farewell.

They sat outside the gated subdivision—the gates were open, forgotten by someone entering or exiting, and honestly even if they were closed, Chenco could hop the rail with no trouble if he wanted to get inside. However, as he clung to Steve’s waist and huddled against the safety of his broad back, he knew that he didn’t want to go in any farther. He knew how this scene would play out. He had no delusions his mother would weep with joy for having found him—she’d known where he was for years. He hadn’t changed his cell phone number since he left. If he tried to see her, she’d make him feel more lonely and scared than he already felt. He’d come here, though, and now he faced his fears, his demons, his sorrow at being turned away.

He said his farewells silently, and then he whispered for Steve to please take him home.

Chenco said goodbye to everyone at Taco Palenque—they weren’t close friends, but he would miss some of them—and he gave Lincoln a tearful hug on their last night out at Club 33, promising to keep in touch. Lincoln said Chenco had better or he’d be cashing in some vacation time to check in on him in Vegas.

“Maybe I should check in on you regardless.” Lincoln waggled his eyebrows. “It’s been a decade since I was last in Sin City.”

“You’re welcome anytime.”

Lincoln’s expression turned serious, and he touched Chenco’s arm. “Be careful, okay? I know things are going well with Mr. Benson, and I’m glad for you. But be safe. If you ever need me, I’m a phone call away.”

With another hug, this one piercing deep into Chenco’s belly, he promised he would be careful.

He really was leaving. Not just the valley, but everything and everyone in it. Maybe forever.

Of course, Steve was leaving too, which still blew Chenco’s mind. At the same time, it didn’t seem that big of a deal, not as much as it was to Chenco to get out of the RGV. When Steve packed up his house, he said goodbye to his friends and handed his keys over to a caretaker—the friends clearly hadn’t seen him much except for the day in the flats. They seemed more glad for Steve than sorry to see him leave, and unlike Chenco’s parting with Lincoln, nobody shed a tear.

Mitch seemed excited to take a road trip with his husband and brother and Steve—Sam was positively giddy as he gave Chenco a tour of the cab and showed him how to turn the fold-down bed into a couch and raise the dining table.

Sam seemed eager to have a traveling companion. “We can sit back here and play cards while they drive.”

“Do you ever drive?” Chenco asked, and almost laughed at Sam’s shudder.

Chenco kind of wanted to drive. Obviously not now. But he found himself hoping one day Mitch would offer to teach him.

When they finally pulled out of McAllen, Chenco sat in the front seat of Old Blue, leaving the only place in the world he’d ever been. He’d never traveled farther north than Austin, never crossed the border to Mexico. Now he was going all the way to Las Vegas.

He wasn’t just leaving the valley, he was leaving with his brother. And his brother-in-law.

And a card shark, a casino mogul and a gangster.

And his boyfriend and his madman fresh from the attic.

Once they were out in the brush country, Chenco moved out of the passenger seat, surrendering his place to Sam so he could sit with Steve on the couch. Steve pulled him in close and rubbed his arm.

Chenco sank into him. “It seems stupid, feeling sad for leaving. Nothing good ever came of being here. Why am I sad to go?”

“You lived your life here, and change is always hard.”

“I didn’t get to see Booker. I tried, but he wouldn’t answer my calls.”

Steve kissed him gently. “It’s okay. He’ll come around. Or he won’t. But you’re going to be okay.”

It was such a sappy, stupid thing, but he couldn’t keep himself from saying it. “You’ll be with me?”

“For as long as you’ll have me,” Steve promised. “For as long as you want me there.”

I’m going to want you with me forever,
Chenco thought, but that was
really
sappy and stupid, and he kept the words to himself.

Chapter Seventeen

Mitch drove north to San Antonio, then headed east on 10 toward Ciudad Juarez—they didn’t ever dip into Mexico, only skirted it via Fort Bliss, and to get that far took eleven hours. Part of Chenco had been hoping to see some of those great big leafy trees he’d seen in movies and picture books, but of course they were going from brush country to short grass to desert. In addition to the scenery not being much—and only visible if he sat up front with Mitch—there was precious little to do. Chenco had grown tired of cards with Sam well before then, and he was relieved when they indulged in an extended break at a truck stop. It had absolutely nothing he wanted to eat, but Sam had stocked the mini fridge in the cab with fruit and veg and hummus, and Chenco made a small picnic with Steve under the shade of a mesquite tree.

“I can’t believe we’re not out of Texas yet,” he said, leaning against Steve as he twirled a grape between his fingers.

“Nearly there now.” Steve popped a piece of hummus-laden carrot into Chenco’s mouth. “We’ll get to Arizona before nightfall. I don’t know if I can get us all the way to Phoenix—been a few years since I drove a rig in a big city. Mitch might well be rested enough to drive again by then, since he’s used to driving long distance.”

“I can’t believe I have a brother
and
a boyfriend who can drive big rigs.” He settled into Steve’s arms and stared out at the interstate. “You drove a truck in the Army, right?”

“Slightly different kind of truck, but yes.” He stroked Chenco’s arms idly. “Man, I was younger than you when I did that.”

“What were you doing sixteen years ago when you
were
my age?”

“It was 1998, so I was just about done at Stanford. Had big dreams of running a tech company.” He laughed, the sound tinged with regret. “Hell, I knew Larry and Sergey pretty well. I can’t say they’d have brought me in on the ground floor, but…well, things went a different way, so none of it matters.”

“Larry and Sergey?”

“Larry Page and Sergey Brin. Google founders.”

Whoa. “You left all that for Gordy?”

“I did.”

Now it was Chenco stroking Steve’s furry arm. “How’s he doing? Have you heard?”

Steve’s reply was careful, but Chenco could feel the mild tension in his body. “Crabtree has made it clear I’m out of the loop for awhile. He’s told Randy and Ethan to simply report everything is fine. Randy did leave a tracking app on for me, so I can see where they’re at. It’s all I get, though.”

“That’s harsh.”

“It’s smart.” Steve caught Chenco’s hand and twined their fingers together. “Gordy’s relied on me for a long time, and he’s pretty messed up.”

Chenco was starting to think when it came to Gordy, Steve was messed up too. “So what’s he doing, exactly? Crabtree, I mean. Is he…maybe this is a stupid question, but are they having sex?”

“I doubt it, but…well, I don’t know. Like I said, I’m not privy to much information.” He rubbed his thumb along the inside of Chenco’s wrist. “Mostly he’ll be setting boundaries, trying to give Gordy a routine. Making sure he takes his meds. Crabtree probably has to pull pretty hard on him sometimes, and travel isn’t going to be easy. They’ll take an extra day at least to get to Vegas. I think I heard Ethan and Crabtree talking about making time for a scene, though I doubt Ethan or Randy will be part of that.”

“So he’s using BDSM to do this rehabilitation, right?”

“Yes, but probably not the way you’re thinking. It’s not about tying him up. It’s about giving him what he needs. Much like you, really, except your needs are different. More like the first scene we had. Rougher, but that kind of connection.”

It was hard for Chenco to think he had anything in common with a man who holed up in an abandoned building. “You always seem to find things I need I didn’t know about.”

“That’s my job.” He nuzzled Chenco’s ear briefly. “Crabtree’s doing the same thing—reading Gordy, trying to find out what he needs to feel safe and strong. It’s what I should have been doing, what I tried to do, but I was blinded by my own feelings, my guilt.”

“Why should you feel guilty? It’s amazing you gave up a career to help your friend, but nobody would expect it of you.”

“Gordy did. I did.”

That was tough to argue with, especially since right now Chenco was the recipient of some pretty generous and wildly unnecessary aid. He watched the interstate some more. “I suppose we should head to the truck.”

Steve lifted his phone from the blanket beside them and shook his head. “Not yet. Mitch said he’d text me when he’s done.”

“Done? With what?”

“Fucking the ever-loving shit out of his husband.”

Chenco glanced at Steve to check the veracity of this. A sly smile played on Steve’s face.

“No shit?” Chenco’s head was full of images of his brother and Sam that made him a little bit tingly inside.

When they did finally go to the rig, it swelled with the smell of sex and freshly brewed coffee. Mitch—naked from the waist up and wearing low-hanging boxers—handed a travel mug full of black brew to Steve and went over some of the readouts and implements on the dashboard. His arms, Chenco couldn’t help notice, were full of hard, red lines.

Fingernail trails.

Chenco tucked his feet under his body as they drove onto the interstate, watching the ribbon of highway roll out before them, thinking about sex. He watched Steve work the gears, expertly shift lanes, a hot shock of man driving a big, sexy truck.

Once Chenco got up to use the bathroom and get a glass of water, and he couldn’t help steal a gaze at Mitch and Sam, tucked in their bed, a bed that looked barely big enough for Mitch yet somehow held the two of them. Sam was clearly naked, Mitch’s arm wrapped around his waist, hand cupped over Sam’s cock and balls. His heavy leg swallowed Sam’s thigh, and his face, slack with sleep, was half-buried in Sam’s messy hair. The sight arrested Chenco, made him happy and lonely at once. It made him horny too.

Steve noticed.

At first he didn’t say anything, but it wasn’t long after Chenco buckled into his seat, his erection making him squirm, Steve said, “Take it out and play with yourself.”

Chenco hesitated. Steve didn’t look at him, but it was clear he waited for his order to be obeyed. Chenco felt weird. He hadn’t ever masturbated in front of anyone before. He’d done a hell of a lot with Steve, but not this. Not with Steve sitting there driving. Not with his fucking brother ten feet away, asleep or no.

“Chenco,” Steve said, a hint of warning in his tone.

Swallowing his nerves, his awkwardness, Chenco undid his fly.

He may have felt weird, but his cock still could see the fucked-out look on Sam’s face, those scratches on Mitch’s arms. Chenco wanted some scratches. He wanted to feel the burn echoing through his skin, that soft heat. He wanted Steve’s teeth on him biting hard into the meat of his shoulder.

Chenco cried out softly at the thought, jerking himself.

“That’s right.” The acrid smell of a match filled the air with a sharp hiss, followed by the scent of seared tobacco. “Should have put a plug in you at the rest stop. Should have stripped you down in the men’s room, made you spread your legs and stuffed you up.”

Chenco’s cheeks burned scarlet fire at Steve’s words, and he couldn’t help a glance backward at the curtain.

“They’ll hear you, boy. Not yet—they’re still asleep. But when they wake up, I’m going to bend you in half on the floor, and they’ll hear everything I do to you.”

Something ugly and scary turned inside Chenco. His hand stilled on his cock. “Yellow.”

He’d never used a word before with Steve, just the one blind-fear scream of
red
with Randy on the way to Edinburg, so he was almost more nervous after he spoke.

Steve didn’t seem to share his anxiety. He relaxed a little and reached over to stroke Chenco’s arm. “Tell me what part was yellow.”

Chenco didn’t want to talk about it, but he made himself. “Them hearing. Knowing what you’re doing.”

“Because Mitch is your brother? Or because someone will know?”

Both? Except as he thought about it, the
someone will know
part was what felt so gurgly and dark. He swallowed and cupped his penis protectively. “Because they’ll know. I’ll let go like you make me do, and they’ll know.”

Somehow this pleased Steve. He didn’t smile, but he had this look about him as if this was a road he knew well. “There’s no sin in letting down your guard. Not when you’re in a safe space. It’s not shameful to let someone see you when you’re vulnerable.”