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Authors: Barbara Elsborg

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Karen was only too happy to let Aden borrow her phone though he’d had to lie and tell her he was planning a treat for Brody. He took the phone into the yard to make sure he wasn’t overheard. The first call he made was to the school Matt was supposed to be working at. Aden didn’t have to use much subterfuge. He just asked to speak to Matthew Frazer-Hamilton.

“Mr. Hamilton no longer works here,” he was told.

“Oh. I wanted to interview him for a magazine. Do you know where he’s working now?”

“Bailey’s Academy in Surrey.”

“Thank you.”

Shit.
It was bad news that he’d moved down here.

Aden called Matt’s wife.

“Hello?” she said.

“Good afternoon. I wonder if I could speak to Mr. Frazer-Hamilton please.”

She disconnected the call.

Aden called her back. “Please don’t cut me off.”

“He’s not here,” she snapped.

“I know. He’s down here.”

“Surrey?”

“Yes.” So she knew where Matt was.

“Why did you ask to speak to him?”

Aden bit his lip. “I wanted to hear your reaction. Whether you wondered where he was or whether you knew. If you were okay about it.”

“What does it have to do with you?”

“I’m worried about a friend of mine.”

“Who are you? Him?”

I should have thought this through.

“Are you?” she whispered. “The one he can’t leave alone?”

“No.”

“You are, aren’t you? I’ve had enough of his promises. I threw him out. You’re welcome to him.”

“Please listen. I’m frightened for my friend. I don’t want Matt to hurt him.”

“What do you expect me to do about it? Your
friend
didn’t care that he was hurting me. Taking my husband…” She choked back a sob.

“My friend was fourteen years old when this started,” Aden said. “Fourteen.”

“Oh God.”

“It’s messed him up. That’s not an excuse, but he needs this to end, just like you’ve ended things. I don’t want my friend hurt anymore. Will you give me your husband’s phone number?” Aden held his breath.

But he got what he wanted. He repeated the number a few times, and thought up a song to help him remember.

Matt had not left his wife. She’d dumped him which was not the story he’d told Brody.

Aden took the phone back to Karen. “Thanks.”

“I’m going shopping in Caterham this afternoon before I collect the kids from school. Would you like to go with me?”

Aden thought about the twenty pound note Des had given him. “Yes please.”

 

With instructions to meet her back in the supermarket car park in an hour, Aden took a wander along the high street. Flakes of snow had begun to flutter from the sky and he turned up the collar of his coat. Eleven days since he’d arrived here on the train, though he wished he wasn’t counting.

He went in the first charity shop that he came to. He’d never bought a present for anyone before, but he wanted to get something for Brody.
Something he’ll remember me by.
He couldn’t afford to pay more than five pounds because he needed to be sure he’d have enough in the supermarket.

His gaze snagged on a charcoal grey suit hanging behind the till. Armani.
Bloody hell.
Apart from when he was working on a car, Aden liked to wear nice clothes. He’d stolen most of them from parties and guys’ houses. Not enough for them to get bent out of shape—just shirts or trousers. He’d never owned a suit, never nicked one because he’d never needed one, just admired them in shop windows.

Why do you need one now?

He didn’t, but Aden
knew he’d look good in that suit.

“Can I help you?” asked the dark-haired guy behind the counter. Cute in a flamboyant sort of way. He wore a bright yellow shirt, tight black trousers and had a chip out of one of his front teeth.

“I’m looking for a present,” Aden said. “It’s for a guy who’s mad keen on animals.”

The man clapped his hands. “Great, I love a challenge.” He reached into the counter display case and took out a small silver elephant. “What about this?”

Elephants didn’t forget. Appropriate, but Aden had spotted the ticket. Twenty pounds.

“No thanks.”

“My name’s Nick. What’s yours?”

He wasn’t in the habit of giving his name to people when he shopped, but the guy was just being friendly. “Aden.”

“That means fire. Are you fiery?”

“No.”

“You’re heating me up.” The guy winked. “What about these? Pink cufflinks in the shape of sausage dogs?”

Aden winced. “No.”

Nick crossed the shop and leaned over to get a book from the bottom shelf. Aden was fairly sure the wriggle of his bubble-butt was deliberate. Nick straightened and held out a small book. “Life of insects?”

“No.”

“Oh this might be good.” The guy sashayed across to a stack of pictures leaning against a wall and pulled out a black framed print from the middle. It was an x-ray picture of two seahorses, tails entwined, set against a rippled shell.
“Unlike most fish, seahorses are monogamous. They mate for life.”

Aden tensed. He liked the picture, but maybe it wasn’t suitable.

“Cute, aren’t they?” Nick said. “Seahorses are among only a few animal species where the male bears the unborn young. So that one with the big belly is the male.”

Aden raised his eyebrows. “Know anything else about them?”

“Just so happens I do. They prefer to swim in pairs with their tails linked. Sounds like fun, linking tails.” He stepped closer to Aden and Aden stepped away.

“Not many predators eat them because they’re so bony.” The guy licked his lips. “When they mate, it’s done in an eight hour courtship dance that includes spinning around and changing colours. Their personal disco. Not sure I’ve ever managed eight hours but…” He looked Aden up and down. “I’d like to try.”

The guy was wasting his time.

“How much is it?” Aden asked.

“Three quid.”

“I’ll take it, thanks.” Aden would have paid more than that.

“Would you like me to wrap it, if it’s a present? Free of charge.”

“Great. Thanks for all that expert knowledge too.”

“You could take me for a drink to show your appreciation.”

The shop assistant was about the same age as Aden, with smooth skin and green eyes, five inches shorter and heavier built. At one time, Aden would have flirted, got him to reduce the price even more, possibly to nothing and maybe fucked him.
Probably
fucked him. Instead he smiled and said, “Sorry, no.”

“He’s a lucky guy,” Nick said.

I’m the lucky one.
He was. If Brody hadn’t knocked him down, where would he have been now?

“Saw you admiring the suit. It’s just been brought in.”

“Armani. Yeah, it’s…nice.”

“A guy who knows his suits.” Nick groaned. “Sure you’re taken? This one’s only going to fit someone tall and very slim. I’d hardly get my arm in the leg hole.” Nick looked him up and down. “Someone with dark hair, gorgeous eyes and lips made for kissing. You have to try it on.”

Aden laughed. “I can’t afford it.”

“I haven’t priced it up yet. Try it. Take this shirt too. Call trying them on my reward for finding you that print.”

Aden knew there was no point, but he took the clothes into the changing room. Both the shirt and suit fit as though they had been made for him.

“What’s it like?” asked a voice on the other side of the curtain.

“Good, but I don’t have the cash to buy it.”

“Show me.”

The guy pulled back the curtain and stepped inside. Aden reversed up to the mirror.

“You look so hot,” Nick whispered. “You’ve got exactly the right name, fiery guy. I’ve put the closed sign on the door and locked it. Want to fuck me?”

In what world does this happen?
As many times as Aden had been propositioned, this stood out as being odd. And green eyes? Familiar green eyes?
Shit.

“No thanks.” He reached to push Nick back and found his hand caught tight in an iron grip, more powerful than he’d imagined the guy could manage.

“He won’t know,” Nick whispered. “I’m not going to tell him. I really fancy you. It’s so boring working in here. Fuck me now. Ram your cock in me. Make me scream.”

Nick dragged Aden’s hand to his crotch and Aden wrenched free and shoved him back. “No.”

“If you don’t want to do it now, how about coming to my place? I finish in an hour. I can run you back to wherever you’re staying.”

Aden clamped down on his irritation. “No thanks, Dante.”

The guy widened his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. “Damn it. I thought you’d be so easy. Pay for the print. Keep the suit. Make sure you’re wearing it when you die.” He winked.

Aden felt in the pocket of his coat for the money, touched the feathers but only pulled out the note. He handed it over and changed out of the suit and shirt. He wondered what Dante was up to. It annoyed Aden that he was being treated as if his only temptation would be sex. But then was Dante trying to outsmart him by throwing these easy marks, moments for Aden to fall by giving into lust or feeling lust because Dante wanted to keep Aden’s attention away from wondering if Matt was someone Dante was controlling. What more could Matt do?

When Aden emerged, a middle-aged woman stood behind the counter. There was no sign of Dante.

“Let me wrap that for you,” she said. “There’s your change.”

Seventeen pounds sat on the glass next to the gift-wrapped print. Aden was tempted, he really was. He
loved
that suit, impractical as it was, as annoyed with Dante’s comment as he was.

“I haven’t paid for the suit and shirt,” he said.

“The gentleman that’s just left paid for you. Thirty pounds. Here you go.” She handed a carrier bag to Aden with everything inside.

Aden thought about handing the suit back but he didn’t. Two steps out of the shop, he thought again. Accepting a gift from a demon was not a good idea. But when he turned, the door of the shop was locked and the closed sign hung in the window.
Shit.

 

By the time Aden heard Brody at the door, he had everything prepared to cook or already cooked. Tagliatelli with mushrooms, bacon, asparagus, cream and ginger. He’d bumped into Karen as he walked around the supermarket and
when she discovered he didn’t have enough money for dessert as well as the
bottle of white wine
,
she’d put a two
crème brûlées in her cart and bought them for him.

Aden had trimmed his hair, shaved, and put on the suit. Then he’d taken it off, because who wore a suit to cook a meal, but now he was wearing it again, wondering if Brody would think he was an idiot. Aden picked up the print and stood facing the door.

Brody walked into the kitchen and stopped dead. “Shit. Who are you?”

Aden growled.

“Christ, Aden. What the hell are you wearing? You look…sensational.”

“I got it in a charity shop in Caterham. This too.” Aden handed him the picture.

“It’s not my birthday.” Brody ripped off the paper.

Aden wasn’t going to be around for Brody’s birthday or for Christmas, but maybe this little picture would be.

“Oh fuck, it’s lovely. Sea horses—”

“Dance for
eight hours, spin around, link tails and change colour. That sounds okay, but I’m not sure about having to be pregnant.”

Brody put the picture down and pulled Aden into his arms. “Is dinner ready?”

“It can wait.”

“Good, come and make me pregnant.”

Aden smiled.

Chapter Eighteen

 

 

Brody tugged Aden to the bedroom. He looked like a model in that suit. Had he really found it in a charity shop? He went over to his wardrobe and pulled a red tie from the rack. “Put this on.”

Aden raised his eyebrows. “You want me to put more on, not take stuff off?”

“Yeah.”

“You’ll have to help. I’ve not worn a tie since I was at school.”

Brody went behind him, turned up the collar of the shirt and wrapped the tie around Aden’s neck. It was easier to put a tie on another man from this way round, but it made him think of Matt doing this for him and his fingers shook. When he had the knot in place, he moved in front of Aden to straighten it, leaving it a little way from the top of the shirt where the button was undone.

“You look as though you were made for that suit,” Brody whispered.
As it if was made for you.

“I’ve never owned a suit, never had reason to wear one.”

Brody let his fingers drift over the bulge in Aden’s trousers. “This is the perfect reason to wear one.”

He stepped into Aden’s space and pulled Aden’s hair through his fingers. “You had it cut?”

“I did it. I couldn’t see through my fringe.”

Brody let his hand drop to Aden’s jaw and stroked the underside where faint stubble faded to soft skin. “You shaved too.”

“This is my version of a date. I can’t afford to take you anywhere. This is the best I can do.” He sucked in air. “I want to fuck you.”

“All you needed to do was ask.”

“I don’t usually.” He faltered. “I don’t mean I force anyone. I just don’t ask.”

Brody smiled. “Was that asking me or telling me?”

“I want to fuck you so hard you can feel me in you when I’m gone.”

Brody had started to think about what that meant when Aden leaned in and kissed him. The moment their mouths joined, Brody’s stomach and heart began sliding down that slippery slope toward ecstasy. Aden sucked Brody’s bottom lip into his mouth, nipped it, changed the angle of his kiss, then he was eating at him, and Brody was doing the same. Aden clutched him as if he were afraid something would break them apart.

Brody was hard as rock. Aden wrenched open the button on Brody’s trousers and pulled down the zipper. He slid his hands into the waistband and tugged them down. Brody staggered before he regained his feet. They kissed without breaking lips as Aden helped him get out of his clothes. When Brody was naked, Aden was still fully dressed. Another flash of memory, a moment of alarm, and Brody knew his face had told Aden what he was thinking. But Aden didn’t miss a beat.

“Get on your knees,” Aden said and unfastened his tie.

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