Desires' Guardian (22 page)

Chase looked Rhys over, perplexed by the way his lover fidgeted. He was hiding something. “What aren’t you saying, Rhys?”

“Too observant for your own good.” Chase stared, hoping Rhys would spill. “Fine. Two things. One, at least for right now, I would really like it if you stayed here with me. Or if you don’t want to deal with me that much, stay with one of your friends or Mark. I don’t want you home alone.”

He thought about it and had to agree. He didn’t like the idea of being alone either, not that he would admit that. He kinda liked the idea of staying with Rhys. See if they could stand each other when put together that long. “All right,” he agreed but then added, “for now. What else?”

“My dad called earlier,” Rhys said, then paused. Chase rolled his hand, motioning him to continue. “He wants us to come over for lunch tomorrow.”

“I didn’t know you’d told your parents about us yet, but okay. Why the panic?”

Rhys scuffed the toe of his boot on the carpet before looking up. “You’ve put your mom off about meeting me for a week now, I wasn’t sure you’d want to go.”

Chase shook his head, frustrated with his brilliant twit of a lover. “Rhys, I’ve asked you three times when you want to meet her, but you change the subject every time. I thought
you
weren’t ready to be that involved. You know, like it’s too soon for you, or something.”

Rhys stared at him, mouth ajar. “I…. You…. What?”

“What, what? I didn’t want to push you if you weren’t ready.”

The loud, rumbling laugh Rhys let out startled him but had him chuckling along moments later. “We’re both idiots, ya know. Fine, I’ll meet yours and you can meet mine. I’ll call Mom on the way to the interview and find out when. ’Kay?”

Nodding, Rhys smiled down at him. “Sounds good.”

T
HREE
HOURS
later, Chase was certain God hated him. He knew someone did, at the very least. Stuck in the small, annoyingly bright room with a couple of cops and their captain was not his idea of fun. He was thankful for Mel’s presence, though he hadn’t needed a lawyer for anything other than show. They had stayed on point and not tried playing the word games he knew cops often used to pull more information out of a person than they wanted to give. But in this case, he honestly did not know anything to help them. He gave them the list of his exes, but he didn’t see that helping either.

Once the meeting was finally over, he stood outside with Red, Dal’s police partner, while Dal and Rhys spoke a few feet away. The entire day had been horrible, and looking at the concerned frowns on the brothers’ faces wasn’t making him any less nervous.

“It’ll be okay, man. Rhys is good at his job, and if anyone can protect you until we can catch this bastard, it’s him,” Red said.

“I know he can. I’m not worried about that. I’m scared this psycho might go after him too.” It was the first time he’d actually said the words aloud, and he cringed at the thought. He was torn up enough over seeming to be the focus of a serial killer, but he couldn’t stand the thought of losing Rhys.

“Hey,” Red said, bumping his shoulder. “Dude’s an ex-Marine. He was the baddest of the bad, ya know. I’d be more worried for the perp than for Rhys if he gets his hands on the guy. We’ll need a body bag, not handcuffs, for anyone stupid enough to take on him or his brother.”

Chase knew his smile was faint, but Red’s confidence in Rhys helped calm him, though nothing would be right until this was all over. “Thanks.”

“Just truth, man. Come on, they look like they’re wrapping things up, and you look like you need some serious sleep.” Red led him over to where the Sayer brothers still spoke.

“Thanks for being here tonight,” Rhys said to Dal as they reached him.

Chase leaned into Rhys’s side as Rhys wrapped one bulging arm around his shoulders. “Can we go?” he asked softly, no longer having the energy to pretend things were okay.

“Of course, cariadon.”

Dal looked at Rhys, inhaling sharply, but didn’t say anything. Chase wondered what that was about, but figured he could ask later. Right then, he just wanted to go back to Rhys’s and sleep, preferably with Rhys curled around him. “Thanks,” he murmured as Rhys said his good-byes and led him back to the car.

C
HASE
STOOD
outside the rambling ranch-style house of his ex, trying to bolster his courage and approach the door. Why Jonathan still had the power this many years later to affect him like this was beyond him. Sadly, that didn’t change the fact he was still terrified of how Jonathan would react to him appearing on his doorstep like this. Much less to what Chase was there to tell him.

Last he’d heard, Jonathan had married some woman and had, he thought, two children. He was still at a loss as to why Jonathan had been the way he was at the end of their relationship. The fighting and insults were bad enough, but to run into the arms of some unsuspecting woman and lie to everyone was beyond stupid in his book. Not that anyone had asked him.

After standing there for a few more minutes, Chase swallowed hard and approached the door. When he’d made it up the three steps, he raised his hand and knocked, wishing Jonathan would and would not answer. For good or ill, the door opened, and there before him was his ex. The man stared at him, not saying a word as he looked Chase up and down. The look on his face told Chase louder than any words could that his presence was not welcome.

Tough shit
, he thought. “Hi, Jonathan,” he said but paused when Jonathan grasped him by his right wrist hard enough to hurt. He was suddenly yanked inside and the door closed.

“What the hell are you doing here, Chase?” Jonathan asked, his voice like ice.

When he didn’t answer fast enough, the grip on his wrist tightened and twisted until he had trouble staying standing. Jonathan pushed him back against the wall and the man Chase had once thought loved him sneered, their noses almost touching. “I asked you a question, you sick fuck. What are you doing here? I don’t want anyone to think I’d actually hang out with someone like you!”

“I… I came to warn you about a possible threat. I’m trying to protect you, not mess up your Rockwell painting of a life.” Dammit! Why was he back to being that scared and empty teen again? He knew how to defend himself.

“You? You’re warning me off what? I don’t swing that way, boy! And I don’t want anything you have.”

Chase fought not to struggle, knowing it would only make Jonathan angrier. The last time they’d had words, he had limped away with two cracked ribs and a ton of bruises. He should have taken Rhys up on his offer to come with him, but Chase had been afraid it would turn into a pissing match, if not a brawl, between the mistake of his past and the hope of a future. Besides, he never wanted Jonathan to know of Rhys, much less be near the man he loved.

He struggled for a deep breath, hating the feeling of being pinned and of how much his chest and wrist were hurting already. “Someone killed Mike and Randy. The cops investigating say someone’s been going after my exes to get to me, though no one knows why,” he explained, forcing as much calm into his voice as possible. “I wanted to warn you so you would be able to protect your family. I don’t want anyone hurt.”

“How dare you speak of my family!” Jonathan roared. “You don’t get to even think of them, much less anything else. I don’t want them tainted with the likes of you.”

“Let me go, Jonathan,” Chase demanded. He yelped when, instead of releasing him, Jonathan twisted harder. White-hot pain shot up his arm and down his fingers. Still reeling from that, he was blindsided when Jonathan pulled his arm back and delivered a powerful jab to his ribs.

Instead of taking it like he always had before, Chase lashed out instinctively, unable to see clearly through the stinging tears the brutal handling and hit caused. “Don’t you ever touch me again!” he screamed as he started hitting and kicking, catching Jonathan solidly in the groin. Jonathan went to his knees, yowling in pain. “Don’t give a damn if the psycho gets you. Wouldn’t have even come if I didn’t care about innocent people getting hurt,” he continued yelling. He kicked one last time, clipping Jonathan in the shoulder and sending him tumbling backward.

Moments later Chase was outside, gulping the fresh air. He sprinted to his car, not wanting to give Jonathan the chance to catch him again. He made it all of two blocks before the shaking forced him to pull over and stop the car.

He sat there, trying to get hold of himself, cradling his wrist to his chest until the trembling stopped and he was able to think again. “What the hell was I thinking? Should have let the cops notify him.”

He jumped when his cell rang. That small sound had him trembling again. He managed to get his cell out of his pocket, though it hurt like hell to use his right hand and wrist even that much.

“Hello?”

“Chase? What’s wrong?” Rhys asked, his voice low.

“N-nothing. I’ll tell you later. What’s up?”

“You’re supposed to meet me at Mom and Dad’s, remember? I was going to ask you to stop and get us something to bring, but now I’m thinking I should cancel and come to wherever you are.”

“No, no. That’s not necessary,” he countered, needing a few more minutes to collect himself. “I’ll be there in a little bit, and do you seriously think I didn’t get something for your mom? Meeting your parents for the first time with no hostess gift? Yeah, Mom would kill me.”

Rhys laughed, helping to calm Chase more. He told Rhys he’d be there in a few, then clicked off. He checked his wrist, not amused by the bruising and puffiness. Instead of driving right over, he stopped by his place to change into a long-sleeved top, intent on hiding how his wrist looked. He knew he couldn’t hide it for long, but hoped it wasn’t as bad as he feared.

By the time he made it to the elder Sayer residence, he was calm, dressed sharply, and thanks to some Aleve, mostly pain-free. Rhys was at his side almost before he had the bike stopped. He had switched to the bike as planned, hoping Rhys would take that to mean he really was okay. He hadn’t gotten the key out of the ignition before Rhys’s huge hand cupped his face carefully.

“Sweetheart? You okay?” Rhys asked, looking Chase over carefully.

“Yeah. You want to step back so I can get off my bike?”

“Oh, sure.” Rhys stepped back, but only enough for him to dismount. As soon as Chase was standing, though, Rhys was running his hands all over him.

Chase was resolved about not showing any discomfort to Rhys until his lover grabbed his hand and tugged lightly. “Agh!” Chase barked, the pain overriding his intentions.

“What?” Rhys snapped. He brought Chase’s hand up, carefully this time, and inspected the damage. He had Chase’s sleeve unbuttoned and up to his elbow in seconds and stared down at the already discoloring flesh.

“It’s fine, Rhys. We’re here to meet with your parents, so let’s go in.” He didn’t wait for Rhys to respond. He fixed his sleeve before grabbing the bottle of wine and small bouquet of flowers from the pack on the back of his bike.

“No, it’s not, Chase. Did that Jonathan guy do this to you?”

“Drop it,” Chase begged. He already felt bad enough. He didn’t need Rhys freaking out too. “We can discuss it later. I would really rather not start things off with your parents thinking I’m some pathetic wimp, ’kay? Now, I don’t see either of Dal’s vehicles. Isn’t he supposed to be here too?”

“Fine, but I want a look at that wrist, cariadon. And no, Dal’s not here yet, but he will be.”

Hoping to refocus his protective love, Chase inquired, “Is he bringing that guy he asked out?”

Rhys shook his head. “No, I asked, but he said something about it being too soon. I’m thinking it’s more like he’s afraid they won’t approve instead of not being willing to introduce him, though.”

“That doesn’t sound like Dal,” They entered the well-appointed home Rhys had grown up in. The foyer was huge and opened onto a large sitting area, but he didn’t see anyone. “Um, aren’t your mom and dad supposed to be here too?”

“They are, sweetheart. Dad’s in his office, and Mom is in the kitchen. Let’s drop these things off with her, and then I want to check your wrist better before lunch.”

Chase sighed, annoyed that Rhys wouldn’t let go of the issue but kind of enjoying the care and attention. He loved Rhys in protector mode. It was sexy as hell, usually. “But not where they can see, all right?”

“Fine.”

Rhys led him through the dining room. Well, the formal one, he assumed by the huge table, chandelier, and dark wood tones. When he stepped into the next room, he was surprised to see the huge, bright kitchen. It was unlike the rest of the house so far, all stainless steel and granite and open. Very sleek and modern, while the rest of the house was staid and formal. Considering how informal Rhys and Dal were most of the time, the entire place didn’t seem to fit.

“Hey, Mom,” Rhys said as a beautiful older woman looked up from cutting vegetables at the center counter. She set down her knife, a huge smile blooming on her face. She had fine lines around her eyes, and her red hair was more silver than ginger, but it was easy to see she was related to the Sayer boys.