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At the beginning, Scotty had grumbled a bit about having to go to therapy. He hadn’t seen the appeal or need to sit on some stranger’s couch and spill all his thoughts and fears. But it was growing on him now.
Deep inside, he’d worried about fitting into this world that he hadn’t even known existed until he’d decided, like the desperate idiot he’d been back then, to break into a mechanic’s shop.
A small smile played on his lips as he waited for Lobo, one of his bodyguards, to open the door leading to the building that housed Doctor Esai’s offices. Yeah, the full-service entourage was a bit of an annoyance, but he was also coming to tolerate it. Because breaking into the mechanic shop had turned out to be the best thing he’d ever done in his miserable life, so he accepted that there would be minor inconveniences.
He nodded to the receptionist, Tricia, and like always whenever he came, which was twice a week, she paled and stared at the three men who flanked him as if they were about to launch themselves at her. They’d proven to be quiet and unobtrusive, but there wasn’t anything else he could do about it until Zander decided bodyguards were no longer necessary. He didn’t see that happening for a while, though.
Zander tended to worry.
Scotty loved that about him.
“He’s ready for you,” Tricia said, gaze darting from him to the men at his back.
Scotty bit back a sigh. At least they didn’t come into his sessions with him. They only waited out in the lobby, likely giving poor Tricia a fright for the entire ninety-minute session. “Thank you.” He flashed her a smile. It was frustrating, but at least he could try to put her at ease. “I’ll be back,” he told his babysitters before striding away.
He wanted to get this done and go home. He’d recently started in-person college classes studying business management and it wasn’t easy, but he was glad he’d decided to go for it. Glad, too, that his men championed him during the times when he’d doubted himself. They’d been with him every step of the way during his NA meetings, and even when he’d been diagnosed with PTSD. They’d even sat in on a couple therapy sessions with him. Therapy helped him deal with the trauma he’d suffered in childhood, giving him better tools to deal with it than what had been his usual MO: getting high.
There’d been nobody to worry about Scotty’s disappearance. No family to raise the alarm. Through Zander, he’d learned that Don’s death had been ruled as a drug deal gone bad because his body had been found in an abandoned house with drugs all around. The authorities had pinned it on a local drug dealer who’d died in a shootout with police when they’d gone to question him. All Scotty felt was relief that Don was gone. He had an actual family now; Vince and Zander were his family. They were each other’s family.
Now, he’d just come from class and was hungry. Vince had texted that he would be barbecuing tonight for dinner and Scotty’s mouth watered at the thought. Vince’s culinary skills were improving by leaps and bounds since he’d made it his mission to learn, and Scotty for one was happy for him.
They each had their thing that brought them joy. Zander too. As much as the business was cutthroat and could be so very dangerous at times, he knew how much Zander relished the challenge and the uncertainty of it. He thrived on danger and all that darkness, but when he came home to Scotty and Vince, he was all in with them, giving them his undivided attention.
Scotty couldn’t ask for more than that. Well, he could, but Zander had a way of anticipating their needs and making it happen before Scotty or Vince even thought to voice it. Like knowing that Scotty didn’t like having to ask for things, so Zander made him co-owner of one of his smaller businesses, a car wash, and ensured Scotty had his own bank account, separate from the one they all three had jointly, and his own credit cards. His own money to do whatever he wanted. It was a freedom Scotty had never envisioned.
Arriving at Doctor Esai’s door, he pushed it open and walked in, closing it softly behind him.
“Hello, Scotty.”
He startled, falling backward into the door.
Syren Rua sat in Doctor Esai’s plush white armchair, legs crossed, a smile on his face.
“What—What are you doing?” Scotty glanced around. “Where’s Doctor Esai?” His voice rose in pitch as his heart thundered. “Did you kill him?”
Syren tsked, flicking something off his suit jacket. “What am I, a monster? The good doctor is…indisposed.”
“What the hell does that mean? Is he dead or not?”
“He could be.” Syren got to his feet and Scotty pressed harder against the door. “If that’s what you want.” He stared pointedly.
All the things Zander and Vince had warned him about regarding Syren flooded his brain then. The guy was fixated on Scotty, they’d said. Scotty hadn’t believed it, not really. He and Syren had met only briefly that one time. How could he have any interest in him? But maybe that wasn’t as farfetched as it’d sounded at the time.
“I don’t—What do you want from me?” He could probably start screaming, but that wouldn’t do much. The doc’s office was soundproof to protect patient privacy. His phone? But no, it was with his backpack that he’d left out front with the bodyguards. Fuck.
Syren studied him, his head cocked. “How are your men treating you, Scotty?”
He blinked. That sounded as if Syren genuinely wanted an answer, but Scotty couldn’t be sure. “Uh… It’s fine? They’re treating me fine.”
Syren’s eyebrow shot up. “Are you asking or telling me?”
Scotty cleared his throat and then swallowed. “My relationship is just that, my relationship.” He lifted his chin. “I don’t know you, but I know them and I love them just as much as they love me. Zander will kill you when he finds out you came here.”
“I mean…” Syren shrugged. “I’m sure he’ll try. If you tell him.”
Scotty frowned at the suggestion. “I’m not keeping secrets from them.”
Syren smiled then, his purple eyes twinkling, and Scotty had to look away to prevent himself from being sucked in.
