Cowboy Gangster 03 - Outlaws of Love (30 page)

“Yeah,” Cory murmured softly. “That’s love. It messes with your head, with your heart…but in the most wonderful way.”

Clint ducked his head and rubbed his eyes. “This doesn’t feel wonderful.”

“Of course it doesn’t,” Cory said. “Because you’re not with him. Nothing hurts worse than love when it’s torn apart.”

“Love,” Clint whispered. ”When did this become…love?”

“If I had to guess,” Cory told him. “I’d say probably the moment you met him.”

Clint shook his head. “It wasn’t my
heart
reacting to him at that moment,” he mumbled.

“Well,” Cory smiled. “Contrary to popular belief, the fastest way to a man’s heart is not always through his…
stomach
.”

Groaning, Clint cast him a sidelong glance. “You’re an incorrigible child, you know that?”

Cory sighed. “Dad may have mentioned it…a time or two.”

“Shit,” Clint chuckled softly. He stared at the floor, his amusement slowly fading. “I don’t know what to do, Cory.”

“What do you
want
to do?”

Clint closed his eyes. “I want to stop feeling so fucking
confused.
” He sniffed and rubbed his eyes then stared at his damp fingertips. “You know, from the time I was about fifteen or sixteen until now…I never shed a fucking tear.” He released a shaky breath. “But since I met Axel…” he shook his head. “All I want to do is…
fucking
bawl like a friggin’ baby.”

Soft laughter bubbled out of Cory.

Clint looked at him and scowled. “That’s funny to you?”

“Well…yeah,” Cory choked on a laugh and cleared his throat. “I think it’s great.”

Clint cocked an eyebrow. “Great?”

“Yes. Tears are evidence that our heart is working properly.”

Clint chuffed. “I could do without it working
that
properly.”

“Don’t fight it, Uncle Clint,” Cory smiled. “It’s good to have feelings. It makes everything…feel so good.”

While wrapped in Axel’s arms, Clint might have agreed. But nothing felt very good right now. “What if he was right?” Clint whispered.

“What if who was right?”

Clint squeezed the back of his neck, his throat knotting up again. “Cochise,” he murmured thickly. “What if it was my fault…what happened to you and Shay?”

“Uncle Clint…don’t…”

“If I hadn’t been distracted by Axel…” he swallowed hard, his eyes filling. “Maybe Cochise was right and I slipped. I didn’t have my head in the game. He tried to tell me before it was too late, and I didn’t listen.” His breath shuddered. “Shay’s gone and maybe Cochise was right to blame me.”

“What a crock of shit.”

Clint’s head snapped up as the Egyptian entered and walked casually around the perimeter of the room.

“Then again,” Cochise spoke low. “Maybe you are slipping. Because the cowboy I knew would have knocked me on my ass for talking bullshit.”

Clint stared at him warily, unsure where he was going with this.

“Lose you balls, did you, cowboy?”

Rising slowly to his feet, Clint frowned. “What?”

“You want me to trust that you have my back,” he said, eyes like stone. “Stop acting like a pussy and settle the score like a fucking
man
.”

Clint stepped toward him and Cochise halted, his stare challenging. “What the
fuck
are you talking about?” Clint growled. “What
score?
”

The Egyptian held his eyes firmly as Clint closed in on him, then raised his hand and brushed his knuckles across his jaw. “You
know
what score,” he muttered.

Clint stopped with two feet of space between them, his brow cinched tight, eyes narrow.

“Maybe,” Cochise leaned a fraction closer. “You should trade your gun and boots for a dress and dancing shoes.”

His eye narrowing to slits, Clint snarled low, “You prick.”

The corner of Cochise’s mouth twitched –and Clint nailed him in the face, knuckles cracking against his jawbone. The Egyptian crashed against the wall and dropped to the floor hard, bringing a shattered picture frame down on top of him.

“What the-” Adrian appeared in the doorway, eyes wide.

Cory thrust out his hand and shook his head. “It’s okay,” he said quickly.

Arcing around the brawling men, Adrian went to Cory’s side.

Clint stood over the Egyptian, chest heaving and face tight, his knuckles throbbing. Cochise shoved away the broken frame and pushed up on one elbow as he rubbed his jaw. He looked up at Clint. “About fucking time,
cowboy.
”

Scowling, Clint muttered – “Fucker” – and thrust out his hand. Cochise grasped him and Clint hauled him to his feet.

“Is this…normal behavior around here?” Adrian inquired from Cory.

Cory chuckled. “
This
is how old men settle disputes,” he smirked. “Myself…I prefer makeup sex.” Adrian grinned and nodded.

The two older men shot Cory a skeptical look.

“Okay,” Cory conceded. “So maybe makeup sex wasn’t an option for you two. Although,” he winked. “It might’ve been fun to watch.”

Adrian ducked his head and turned away, suppressing a laugh.

Cochise grunted. “Kids.”

“Incorrigible,” Clint muttered. He looked at Cochise, eyeing his bruised jaw. “Should put some ice on that.”

The man chuffed. “Barely felt it.”

“By the way,” Clint’s lips twisted. “Don’t forget to tell them about the cute little kitty you rescued today.”

Cory and Adrian perked up. “Kitty?” Cory grinned. “Awww, you saved a kitty? You big ole softy.”

“Shit,” Adrian chuckled and scratched his temple. “That is…adorable.”

The Egyptian’s face twisted in a fierce scowl as he drilled Clint with a deadly glare. “You fuck.” He headed for the door.

Clint chuckled.

“This isn’t over,” Cory called after him. “We want to know all about your sweet little kitty cat.” He sank back against the bed and held his stomach, laughing. “Shit. It hurts to laugh.” He looked at Clint, sobering a bit. “Now that you boys are done
talking
things out,” he said. “Maybe you should reconsider a few things.”

Adrian glanced between them. “I’ll come back.” He eyed Clint as he headed for the door. “No hitting my patient.”

Clint stared after him as the young men left the room. “After a few days,” Clint murmured. “He’ll beg me to hit you.”

“Most likely,” Cory agreed. He met Clint’s eyes. “He doesn’t blame you. He didn’t mean what he said before.”

Clint shook his head. “He wasn’t the reason I left Axel.”

Cocking an eyebrow, Cory posed, “Maybe you should have told him that before he goaded you into hitting him.”

“Oh, he still had it coming.”

“I’m sure,” Cory smiled.

Clint exhaled slowly. “I think I need to just leave Axel alone.”

“What?” Cory frowned. “No. What about the things you said just a few minutes ago?”

Clint sighed. “Temporary insanity?”

“Temporary
clarity
,” Cory corrected. “You know where your heart is, Uncle Clint. Why are you fighting it so hard?”

“He’s in danger because of me, Cory.”

“Who better to protect him, than you?” Cory asked. “If something happens and you’re not there, you’ll blame yourself for that, too.”

He knew Cory was making sense –so what was holding him back?

“Just sleep on it for tonight, Uncle Clint. Think it through.” He smiled. “Then hightail your ass over there first thing in the morning and sweep him off his feet.”

♦

“You sure you’re okay?” Angel asked with concern. He lingered behind when Dane said good night and climbed the stairs to the loft bedroom. He sat down on the sofa and looked at Axel doubtfully. “You seemed upset…distracted, since we left your apartment.”

Axel shrugged. “Just…a lot of memories over there,” he mumbled.

“Are you still going out with Zoe tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Axel whispered. He hadn’t mentioned anything to Angel or Dane about the bed, the pillow. The more time that passed, the more he was sure he’d been imagining it. Maybe he hadn’t made up his bed before he’d left with Angel and Dane the first time. He thought he had, but he could be wrong. It was easier to think he had been mistaken –than to believe that Clint had went into his apartment and laid down on his bed because he missed being with him. The more he thought about it, the less sense it made.

“I really like Zoe,” Angel said. “But if you still care deeply for Clint…dating someone else isn’t going to make it go away.”

Axel stared down at his hands. “I have to try something,” he said quietly. “I need to get past this.”

“I understand,” Angel murmured. “Do whatever you feel is best for you. Only you know what that is.” He stood up. “I’ll support you no matter what.”

Axel looked up at him. “Thanks,” he smiled softly. “You’re a good brother, Angel. The best.”

“So are you,” Angel smiled back. “I’ll let you get to bed.” He stepped away from the sofa. “Good night.”

“Good night.”

Angel turned off the kitchen light and climbed the stairs. Axel watched him until he disappeared into the bedroom, then laid down on the sofa…his head on the pillow he’d brought with him from the apartment. He closed his eyes and breathed in the scent still clinging to the pillowcase.

Am I losing my mind? Is it just my imagination?

His eyes opened and warm tears dripped onto the pillow. He stared at his cell phone on the coffee table.

Call him,
his heart pleaded.
Ask him to come home…tell him you miss him…that you love him.

The phone blurred in his vision as he reached for it and laid it on the pillow. He looked down at Jonah, asleep in his bed by the sofa. His hand dropped to the pup and he lightly stroked its fur, then lifted the pup into his arms and hugged him close. “I’m scared, Jonah,” he whispered. “I don’t want to hear him say he doesn’t love me, too.”

♦

Clint rubbed his eyes and lay down on the bed, on his back. He’d tugged off his boots, removed his jacket, and disarmed himself but the rest of his clothes remained. Since he’d walked out on Axel, his bed had been an unwelcoming entity, even malicious –tormenting him with memories of his very first night with Axel when the boy had been so terrified Clint would rape him, possibly kill him.

It had intrigued Clint the effect Axel had had on him. And that had been his excuse for pursuing the kid, for the excitement of figuring out
why
he affected him that way, what it was about him that caused Clint’s entire being to rebel against his commands.

Cory suspected it was love from the start –and Clint simply hadn’t been in the right place mentally and emotionally to acknowledge it at the time. Looking back, Clint was forced to consider that Cory was right. Had it been anyone else besides Axel, Clint would have locked him in a room –possibly in their special guest room –and just left him until morning when he took him to the club. But Axel had drawn Clint like a moth to a flame. Yet in their case…shouldn’t Clint have been the flame? And Axel the moth, in danger of being consumed if he came too close?

When it came right down to it –hadn’t they
both
been consumed by one another’s heat? One another’s…love?

You burned away his wings so he couldn’t fly…then left him grounded and vulnerable.

Clint pressed his palm to his forehead and stared at the high dark ceiling.
Think it through.
What was there to think through? Seeing Axel last night had crippled him. Though he had tried to deny it –the pain he’d inflicted on Axel was still strong in the boy’s eyes, tormenting him. The girl had been Clint’s excuse to walk away, to insist Axel would be fine without him.

But why did he need an excuse? Why did he
need
to walk away?

You know where your heart is, Uncle Clint. Why do you fight it so hard?

Clint didn’t know. He could feel it, like a parasite worming its way through his mind, but it was imbedded too deep and it never ventured close enough to the surface for Clint to identify it.

Parasite
or not, Clint couldn’t take much more. Just one week gone since he’d left Axel and he was breaking down bad. It wasn’t getting better, becoming easier. His heart was instigating actions without his permission; the visit to Axel’s apartment…he hadn’t planned it, hadn’t even realized it was where he was going until he was parked in front of the building. The drive out to the fairgrounds to speak with Gavin –it
could
have waited till the next day. Had he been hoping to see Axel –despite his instructions for Dane and Gavin to meet him alone? Deep down, had he known Gabriel would deliberately foul it up? Why hadn’t he simply asked for Dane’s number and called the man himself?