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Zander.
There were other men with him, but Zander… Zander was there. He’d come for them. When his concerned gaze landed on them on the couch, he rushed over, dropping to his knees before them, arms going around both Scotty and Vince.
“Fuck,” Zander breathed out, eyes closing briefly. “You’re okay? Are you okay?” He touched Scotty’s face. “Baby?—”
Scotty launched himself at him. Zander fell back on the floor with a muffled “oomph” as Scotty wrapped himself around him, hands around his neck, legs wrapping around his waist when Zander managed to sit up. Scotty held him so tightly he didn’t know how the other man managed to breathe, but Scotty could.
Vince joined them down on the floor, a hand on the small of Scotty’s back just under where Zander’s hands were.
Scotty could breathe now. Vince had been included in their embrace and Scotty held on to them both, the way Zander held on to them both, the way Vince held on to them both. They were ignoring the fact that there were other men in the room, witnessing all this.
Zander didn’t seem to care as he whispered promises meant to stay between the three of them.
“I never should’ve left you. I’m so fucking sorry. I missed you. I’m here now. I’m here now. I’m here now.”
He was. He’d come for them.
“I love you two so fucking much.”
There was so much that needed to be dealt with. But Zander had come for them. He loved them. And for that moment, Scotty could breathe.
As relieved as Vince was to put eyes on Zander again, as much as his heart leaped in his chest at Zander’s declaration of love, he couldn’t focus on the men who held on to him so tightly.
Not when their audience was made up of the most dangerous criminals in all of New York.
The moment the door opened, in that split second before Zander raced toward them on the couch, Vince had recognized the men at Zander’s back. Derri, yes. Also Israel Storm and the serious dude that never left his side, Reggie Turner. But those two weren’t the only threat.
Dima Zhirkov was mere inches away. Tall, tattooed, looking very much like someone you never wanted to cross. He was the head of the Russian mafia, controlling much of New York.
They had to be the reason for the ambush. For Scotty being scared out of his mind. For Vince wondering if they’d make it out alive. He didn’t know what the fuck was happening, but he needed answers. So as much as he wanted to bask in the warmth of Scotty’s and Zander’s embrace, as much as he wanted to bare his soul right then and there and verbally reciprocate Zander’s feelings of love, now wasn’t the time.
“What’s going on?” He whispered the question between the three of them, hoping Zander had the answers. “What’s happening here?”
A throat cleared in the room and Zander stiffened. Vince lifted his head when he heard footsteps.
“Don’t come any closer.” He jerked away from Zander and Scotty, meeting Israel’s amused gaze. “Don’t fucking do it.” He didn’t know why these men were present but it couldn’t be for anything good. He held Israel’s gaze when he asked, “Zander, what’s going on?”
“Go sit on the couch, baby,” Zander told Scotty softly. “It’s okay,” he promised when Scotty made a low sound. “You’re safe. I’m here and I’m not gonna let anything happen to either of you. Go.”
After a brief hesitation, Scotty did as he asked, scrambling back to the couch, hugging his knees to his chest as he sat there, silent but pale.
“Vince.” A hand settled on his shoulder. “I got this. Chill.”
And just how was he supposed to do that when the people responsible for practically all the crime in New York were within spitting distance, breathing the same air as him? The same air as the men he loved? How was he supposed to chill when he knew they were responsible for ambushing him and Scotty in their bed and kidnapping them? Scotty was fucked up and it was because of them.
Getting to his feet, Vince didn’t acknowledge Zander. Instead, he stood in front of Israel Storm. “Why are we here? What do you want?”
Israel’s lips twitched. “You’ve got balls, I’ll give you that. But my business is with Kian.”
“His name is Zander,” Vince spat, fists balled. “Use it.”
Israel’s head cocked.
Zander put an arm around Vince’s shoulders. “I’ve got this,” he murmured in Vince’s ear. “Let me handle it.”
“That’s what you’re calling yourself now?” Dima Zhirkov spoke for the first time, addressing Zander. “Zander?”
“Yes.”
