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He was thirsty and his head ached. He shifted to the edge of the bed and froze as he saw Holden enter the kitchen across the driveway separating them. The guy hadn’t seen him. He ran some water in a glass and stood drinking it. Then his gaze focused on Tyler. Tyler looked at him for a moment before moving out of sight, dragging himself to the end of the bed. Two crutches stood propped against the wall for the times he found himself sans leg.
He pushed his arms into them and hobbled to the kitchen. Like he had seen Holden do, he ran a glass of water at the sink and drank deeply. He glanced back out into the hallway then. He hadn’t shut the door, had he? It was closed now. Had Holden been in his home? Had he followed him in and stood there watching Tyler face down on the bed? What a pathetic freak he was. The guy must have had a good laugh at his expense.
He should eat. He hadn’t eaten since breakfast, but the idea of food turned his stomach. Tyler made his way into the small living room and lowered himself onto the couch, pointing the remote at the TV. If in doubt, lose yourself in mindless entertainment.
Chapter Three
Holden
Holden deleted the sentence with angry clicks of his mouse and sat there staring at the screen. The two words at the header of the document said Chapter One. Nothing more, nothing less. The sum total of his work since he’d arrived in Clear Water Creek. He’d been at his desk three hours already today and so far, all he’d done was surf random crap on the internet, think about watching porn, and delete everything from his new novel over and over again. Truth be told, he hadn’t written a new word in months, not since Leo had taken everything and left him with nothing.
With a heavy sigh he pushed his wheeled chair back and stood, stretching out his spine and rotating his head. Sitting for so long made him ache, gave him a sore ass. It was the only time his ass was sore these days; more was the pity. His thoughts strayed to Leo. Bastard. Fucking unmitigated bastard. Why hadn’t he seen through him? He’d thought the sun shone out of Leo’s ass when actually, Leo had Holden exactly where he wanted him as he slowly closed the trap. He’d spent a year courting him, opening him up, prying him undone until he knew everything about every area of Holden’s life—not just what made him tick, but his finances, his work, his home, his family. He’d waited until Holden trusted him with his life, then he’d sealed him inside a misery of his own making and left with everything.
Holden stalked across the landing to stand at the window, jaw clenched. Why couldn’t he stop his mind from going there over and over again, probing the wound, picking at the scab to see if it would bleed? All he had left was the money tied up in this dilapidated house and his car outside. Royalties trickled in from his previous books and gave him just enough to pay the bills and eat. He needed a bestseller and he didn’t know where he was going to find that. His previous books had all sold well, enabling him to build up his bank balance. He hadn’t been a spendthrift when he’d hit the big time. He’d squirrelled it all away—and become a sitting target for the first con artist to come his way. Leo had seduced him, younger than him by fifteen years. Holden had been flattered of course, being the wrong side of forty and feeling his age. He had felt invincible with Leo by his side and even better that Leo was a whiz with numbers and happy to be his agent for free rather than him giving away ten percent to that annoying woman who’d once represented him. But that annoying woman hadn’t been a crook. She wouldn’t have fleeced Holden.
There was no money now of course to continue the expensive counselling sessions for his addiction. He’d been deep into it when he’d met Leo. Leo had helped him, professed to understand it, even tolerated Holden’s many failures and stumbles along the way—the lying, the infidelity. Another man wouldn’t. He groaned. Seeing as Leo had never loved him anyway, he’d found it easy enough to lie. Easy to take Holden’s behavior on board and act like the long-suffering and ever-forgiving partner. And Holden had believed it all. He had been grateful for what he could get. Someone to understand and not judge. In fact, Leo was merely enabling him.
He remembered one night with Leo, deep into their relationship, sometime after Leo had found out the truth. Holden had come home with the stink of another man on him and confessed it straight away to Leo. Leo had acted so hurt, so patient, such a Goddamn martyr to Holden’s addiction. Holden had been taken aback to find himself stripped naked and under Leo. He hadn’t expected Leo to ever want to touch him again. Instead, Leo had thrust into him, whispering filthy words, demanding that Holden tell Leo just what the faceless man had done to him. Leo seemed to get off on Holden’s stuttered confession of being fucked down a dark alleyway bareback by a stranger who’d spat on his cock to lube himself up. He’d told Holden his ass was still wet with the stranger’s cum and he’d moaned in excitement at the fact. It should have spelled alarm bells for Holden. Instead he was just relieved that Leo wasn’t ending their relationship. Far from it. When Holden fell again and again, his punishment was Leo making him describe every detail while he fucked him. In the morning, he acted the wounded partner rather than the man getting off on Holden’s infidelity. Holden knew the truth though. Leo enjoyed Holden going with other men even though he told him sternly that it must never happen again. One of his many lies. The unhealthiest of relationships.
Holden looked out of the window, his gaze landing on the annex below. He noticed his tenant’s curtains were open for the first time in two days. He hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Tyler since he’d brought him home from the diner and had found his mind going back to the veteran over and over again, jostling with his usual anguished memories. He’d wondered if Tyler was dead, maybe from sepsis, but he hadn’t gone over there to see, not after how Tyler had yelled at him that afternoon. Leave me the fuck alone, I’m not dead yet! He felt guilty, but he had his own problems. He couldn’t even look after himself, never mind the stranger across the yard. Still, the curtains were open, so the guy wasn’t dead. Holden guessed that was a good thing. He remembered Tyler lying face down on the bed with his prosthesis discarded, that stump with the skin red and raw around the edges of it, where the bones had been sawn through and the shin and foot removed, tossed into clinical waste like they were unimportant. Holden swallowed. There was always someone worse off than you, and that man was Tyler. Holden had lost everything, but not a limb. Tyler looked like he’d lost everything, including a limb. Holden looked down into the bedroom of the annex. From his vantage point, he could see Tyler sitting on the bed, his back turned. He sat motionless for so long, Holden began to wonder what he was doing. Reading? But his head wasn’t bowed and he couldn’t see him holding up a book or tablet. Meditating? The guy was ex-military so he was a meathead, yes? Those guys didn’t meditate. Holden felt ashamed. He knew nothing about Tyler and yet he had the nerve to presume the guy had nothing between his ears. Why? People who fought for their country weren’t stupid, why did he think they were? He reddened at his thoughts as though Tyler would somehow read them through the bricks and glass that separated them. Then he saw Tyler toss something onto the bed—a large red book of some kind, perhaps a photo album—and grab the crutches propped beside him. He disappeared from view and Holden saw him reappear behind the frosted glass of the front door a moment before he opened it. He paused on the step, giving Holden ample time to observe him unseen.
He noticed first that the guy wasn’t wearing his prosthesis. Tyler wore three quarter length cargo pants. The tip of the left dangled in the air and he leaned heavily on his crutches. Holden felt a hot flash of guilt as he remembered that day coming back from the diner. He could only presume it was still too painful to wear. But his gaze travelled back up Tyler’s body and his glance turned to a stare. Was he blind? Had the lack of a leg overshadowed everything so completely that Holden had honestly not noticed how fucking built Tyler was? From the broad shoulders to the massive tattooed biceps exposed in the sleeveless T-shirt, his chest was big too, hips narrow, thighs strong, straining the camo pants. Straining them between his legs too. Holden noticed that as well. How could he not?
He licked his lips as he dragged his gaze from crotch to face. Yeah, the guy was beautiful. He’d seen that and recognized it on some subconscious level, but his mind hadn’t let him acknowledge it until now, maybe because something about it was wrong when Tyler had been in such distress. And now? You’re allowed to acknowledge it now? You’re twenty years older than him, you fucking pervert! A flush of shame enveloped his face. He felt like the washed-up middle-aged man he was. Before he could step back, Tyler looked up and their gazes met.
The guy was all chiseled jaw with just a hint of stubble, and stormy grey eyes. His hair was dark, shaved at the back and sides, slicked back with military precision on top, the parting razor cut in, not a hair out of place.
Tyler broke the eye contact. He hopped away on his crutches. Holden swallowed. He turned away from the window and descended the stairs with purpose, pushing his feet into his shoes at the door. He paused with his hand on the handle.
What are you doing? Think about this a moment.
I am. I want to talk to him. I want to say sorry.
No, you don’t. You want to try it on. You’ve realized he’s hot and your addiction is taking control.
Like he’d ever look twice at me, I’m nearly fifty! Old enough to be his dad!
That was a sobering thought and almost enough to make him turn back. But he went out anyway. He absolutely wasn’t going out into the yard to proposition Tyler. The idea was ludicrous.
Between the main house and the annex at the furthest point of the yard stood an area of decking with a sorry-looking table and chairs. Steps led down to a lawn and flower beds spilling over with roses and sunflowers. Tyler was seated on one of the chairs, looking out over the garden. The day was hot, the air loud with birdsong. Birdsong was the only sound. Clear Water Creek was a peaceful place. For the first time, Holden was glad to be here. But he wasn’t alone. He had a tenant. A tenant he needed to get rid of, but wasn’t sure he could. Tyler would tell the press. They would descend on Holden and open up his wounds once again.
Tyler heard him coming. He glanced over his shoulder, his body tensing, then looked away. Holden went to stand in front of him. “Look, about yesterday.”
Yeah? Make this good.
“We got off to a bad start.”
Tyler looked up at him. The sun made his grey eyes glitter with hints of sapphire. His pupils were constricted. His face was cold. “Did we?” he asked.
Holden’s gaze strayed from his stunning face to the loose end of his pants where his left leg should have been. The stump was covered by the material and he was grateful he didn’t have to look at it. He felt immediately guilty. The guy’s stunning, two legs or not! What’s your fucking problem?
“Yeah. I came in all guns blazing when I shouldn’t have. I didn’t realize your situation.”
Tyler raised a brow. The stony expression on his face hadn’t changed. “My situation? You mean my lack of a leg?” His face grew ever more closed and hostile. He spoke between his teeth. “I don’t need you to feel sorry for me.”
“That’s not it.”
“Isn’t it?” Tyler grasped his crutches and lurched up. Holden stepped back. Too far, he realized as he overbalanced on the top step and fell backward, twisting his ankle and landing in a heap on the lawn.
