Wesley (19 page)

Armando nodded. “For you, I can.”

He was still apprehensive. Wes could see it in the way tiny lines feathered from the corners of his eyes. “There’s no rush. We can take our time.” He grasped the first subject that popped into his head. “Maybe we should try to figure out a way to help Sue and Dyan, and give us some time to—” He stopped, uncertain how to make himself clear.

Armando stared at him for a second or two then he smiled, the worry in his expression easing up. “I think that’s a good idea. Their situation is by no means pleasant, but I did promise, and otherwise we won’t be able to do the guy thing and roll over and pass out after we have sex.”

“Totally have to do the guy thing,” Wes agreed, holding out his hand, which Armando promptly took. “I want the whole experience. I’d like to suggest some clothes first, though. Otherwise I won’t be doing anything besides drooling all over your fine bod.”

“Right,” Armando snorted, but he was pleased judging by the way he beamed at Wes. “Well, yeah, I am pretty sexy. So are you.” He winked at Wes and tugged a towel off the rack. “Here.” Armando tossed the towel and Wes caught it.

He arched his eyebrows at Armando. “Do you really think this is enough clothing?”

“Spoilsport.” Armando chuckled and took the towel back. “No. What’ve you got for me to wear?”

“Old, ratty sweats,” Wes said proudly. “Figured you ought to like those since you wear stuff like that all the time.”

“They’ll be tight on my ass, though, if they fit you.”

Wes glanced over his shoulder, trying to see his own butt. “Are you saying I don’t have much of a butt, or what?” It looked okay to him, but he was looking at it from a screwy angle.

“I said no such thing.” Armando released his hand and walked around to ogle Wes’ backside. Wes tried not to feel self-conscious, but his skin was hot with his embarrassment until Armando purred and stroked his butt cheeks. “You have a very nice ass, Wes.
Very
nice. Firm,” he squeezed both cheeks. “High, rounded.” Armando glanced up at him, a wicked look that should have warned Wes. “Pale, so—” Armando slapped his ass hard enough to sting— “My handprints show,” he finished as Wes yelped.

“I didn’t hurt you.”

“Nope,” Wes agreed. “Startled me, though.”

Armando massaged his butt for a moment then trailed his fingers down Wes’ crease. “You do have an adorable ass. A very distracting one. I love this hair.” He tugged and Wes almost yelped again, except he kind of liked that sting.

“Plan,” Wes rasped before he ended up too distracted to think. “We’re supposed to be planning something probably illegal.”

Armando sighed and stroked Wes’ butt before leaving off teasing him. “You’re right. Let’s get some clothes on and figure out if and how we can help the girls.”

Wes had a feeling helping them was going to involve some illegal activities, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. As long as no one got hurt, or arrested, he was all for getting Dyan out of that place.

Armando started searching online while Wes fixed them a quick dinner of grilled cheeses and chips. They ate and drank sodas as they read about the experiences some people had with conversion therapies, and even found where a handful of people were suing the founders and staff of one centre.

“Look, right there.” Armando touched the screen at the same time that he moved the cursor to a link. “There’s a comment about the place we’re trying to find info on.”

Wes read the comment and leant back in his chair. “That’s one angry dude, and who can blame him? Being sent there when he was fifteen—the first time.” Wes shook his head. “I can’t imagine what the hell his folks were thinking, putting him through that three times.”

“And he’s still gay,” Armando added. “People can be so intolerant and ignorant.”

“They can also be good, though,” Wes pointed out. “Since we haven’t found much of anything useful to us on Change for Christ Retreat, besides that totally uninformative mention of it on the church website, you want to try emailing this Cliff guy?”

Armando clicked on the man’s name, which gave them options for contacting him. “He has Skype. We can try that.”

“All right.” A glance at the time showed it to be a little after eight. “Do you know what time zone he’s in?”

“Nope, his profile is only filled in where necessary. I’m betting his name isn’t Cliff, either.” Armando signed in to Skype and sent a request to Cliff. “He’s probably not even—” A loud sound startled them both. “Online,” Armando finished lamely.

“Looks like he is.” Wes nudged Armando over until he could get at the keyboard. He typed in a short greeting and a thank you. Cliff replied immediately, his message clipped, suspicious. “He probably thinks we’re some kinda nuts.” Wes clicked the icon for the video chat. As soon as Cliff accepted, he tried talking to the man. “Hey, can you hear me?”

The camera on Cliff’s side was pointed at a large black dog, but Cliff’s voice was firm and deep, and certainly didn’t come from the animal. “I can hear and see you just fine. Who’s your friend?”

Wes canted a look at Armando and frowned. He wished Armando had scooted farther away.

“I’m Armando, and apparently my partner here has forgotten his manners.” Armando smiled in a manner that should have made anyone trust him. “We have some questions, if you could maybe help us out.”

“About?”

Wes and Armando looked at each other. Wes shrugged, although he kept his gaze intense. It wasn’t a big secret, but if they were going to break the law, they might need to be very careful.

Armando gave the barest nod before turning his attention back to the chat. “We have a young friend who was forcibly put into a place she doesn’t want to be.”

The snort was very loud even though the laptop’s speakers were on fifty per cent volume. “Yeah, well. Y’all are in Texas, aren’t you?”

Wes stuck his head in front of the webcam. “What makes you say that?”

A chuckle rumbled from their unseen chat mate before he answered. “Because I can see the TV behind you, and it’s on a San Antonio news station.”

Wes froze, thinking of the position of the TV and the laptop. It was possible, but the guy had to have amazing vision. “Who are you?” he asked. What are you? he meant.

“I’m just a guy whose parents thought they could have the homosexual demon cast out of me.” The camera dipped and, instead of a dog, Wes was looking at a massive chest. “Who are you?”

“Why won’t you show your face?” Armando asked just as Wes opened his mouth to do the same. “You’ve seen us.”

“Yup. I have. Not a smart move on either of you two’s part, either, if you’re thinking of helping your friend.”

Wes turned his head towards Armando. “Shut it down,” he mouthed.

“I wouldn’t close the chat yet if I were you.”

Armando’s eyes rounded and Wes jerked his head back around to glare at the camera. “Yeah, well, fuck off. We don’t have time for stupid games.”

Another shift of the camera, and a man’s face appeared. There was nothing soft about him. His face was all hard edges, sharp angles, strong jaw. His eyes were an icy blue that seemed unsuited to his other harsh features. Close-cropped hair was either black or dark brown, and muscles bulged along his neck and shoulders.

“You want to tell me that again, boy?”

Armando went stiff and Wes wanted to tell Cliff where to shove his muscles, but Wes had the upper hand. Cliff had to be human, and, even as ginormously stacked as he was, Wes could still take him. Probably.

“I think you heard me, and we are done here. Have fun with your steroids.” Wes tapped a button, only mildly disappointed when his insult didn’t seem to faze Cliff.

“Wow, what an asshole.” Armando started to push his seat back. The laptop dinged again. “Seriously?”

Wes looked at the chat box. Only text, but, finally, something possibly useful. Cliff didn’t waste words, only telling them that the layout of the building was attached along with the notes he’d made about the employees’ routines and the
patients’
treatment.

“How’d he know which place we were talking about?” Wes wondered then gave himself a mental kick in the ass. “Duh. The TV. He knew where we are, so it was easy for him to figure out where we wanted info on.”

“That’s my guess.” Armando clicked on the download button. “Let’s hope he didn’t just give your laptop a fatal virus.”

Wes glowered at the screen until the attachments were downloaded and opened. “Whew.”

“Yeah, exactly. Look at these.” Armando leaned closer to the screen. “These look like actual blueprints.”

Wes had to agree, even if he had never seen real blueprints before. “It seems like it. Huh.”

They examined the rest of the files, and Wes halfway expected Cliff to contact them again, but he didn’t. That was fine, the guy creeped him out anyway.

“With the employees’ schedule, if it’s accurate, then there’s a two-hour gap where they have the patients’ confined to their rooms for prayer.” Armando clicked another file. “Forced prayer, if necessary, binding them so that they’re kneeling for two hours on a cement floor. Shit.”

“Binding them would also keep them from escaping,” Wes pointed out. “At least there aren’t roommates since the centre won’t put men with women, and don’t want to tempt either of them to sin with the same sex. Idiots.”

“Hatemongers,” Armando snarled. “How can they espouse any kind of love for their fellow man and treat them like…like animals, or prisoners? Or both?”

“We do the worst things to one another,” Wes muttered, reading another file. “Are we thinking of breaking in, then? Basically, of kidnapping Dyan?”

“It’s not kidnapping when she’s being held against her will,” Armando argued. “I don’t care what the law says, that’s bullshit!”

“I agree, and maybe if she were to have been given the chance to fight it in court, she wouldn’t be where she is now.” Wes racked his brain, but there just wasn’t any other solution. “All we can do is wait until they’re doing their evening prayers, then make a run for it.”

“They have cameras,” Armando reminded him.

“So we wear those ski masks robbers wear.” He frowned. “Can we even find them here? It’s so hot.”

“I bet we can’t, especially since winter’s all but over.” Armando leant back and crossed his arms over his chest. “We can use hoodies and bandanas. Should work just as well. And gloves, so we don’t leave fingerprints behind.”

Wes hummed as he thought about the plan. “You know, I bet they don’t call the cops, anyways. Think about it. Some of what’s in Cliff’s notes—ha—is out and out abuse. Child Protective Services wouldn’t allow that shit, and the media would tear them apart. But still, yes on the gloves and covering up as much of our faces as possible.”

Armando put the laptop to sleep and stood, stretching as he did so. The move put his ass right out there, and Wes’ cock boned up immediately. Armando’s groin bulged with his erection, and he gave Wes a smug look before checking the time on his phone. “It’s after midnight, and we are going to need to sleep a little, at least.”

From the look in his eyes, Wes figured Armando wasn’t counting on them actually sleeping much at all. “It’s a three-hour drive to the retreat. We can sleep in a little late, then go to the shelter and get Sue. So that gives us about eight hours before we need to get out of bed once we get there.”

“Eight hours might be long enough for me to make love to you properly,” Armando purred, and Wes went all warm and gooey inside as need soared along his nerves. “I promise I will make you feel so incredible.”

Chapter Thirteen

At least, Armando hoped he could. That he was relieved to not have to try bottoming just yet made him feel guilty. All the talking his shrink had done must have sunk in, though, because he knew feeling guilty was a waste of time, and that his reticence to be penetrated was normal considering what had happened to him.

“Armando, join me?” Wes stood waiting for him by the bathroom door. “We never did get our shower.”

Oh yeah, he had a fabulous man who was looking at him with something bordering on adoration, too. There was no reason for him to make this any more complicated than it was. “Okay.” Armando took Wes’ hand and let himself be hauled into the bathroom. They stripped quickly then got in the shower. “This is good.” He groaned as the shower jets massaged his back and ass.

“Yeah, the rest of the place might not be fancy, but Bobby made sure the shower was first-rate.”