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What the actual fuck was I thinking, attacking Andler like that? I mean, he deserved it and a lot more, but that could have gone horribly wrong. I didn’t think any of it through and I could have gotten really hurt on top of being kidnapped. I don’t know what higher power there is, but I really thank them from the bottom of my heart for getting me out of that. Because what I did was not taught to us in that self-defense class. And taking that extra second to close the door? I mean, what the fuck, Red? It was all okay with my adrenaline pumping and fight or flight kicking in, but in hindsight, I should have just taken off, not worrying if they got to their feet or not.
The lady in the aisle across from me taps my arm and I look over questioningly. She has a tissue in her hand and I reach up to find tears streaking my cheeks. Giving her a grateful nod, I take the tissue and clean myself up, willing the tears to stop, just until I get to Malcolm. If I start breaking down now, I won’t be able to stop. I’m glad she didn’t ask if I was okay because I’d become a blubbering mess.
To my surprise, we land about thirty minutes early. The pilot said something about clear skies and no headwind—whatever that means. I’m not complaining. I’m in Quebec and I’m almost to safety. Since I don’t have luggage, I make my way to the front of the plane, most people letting me by when they see my empty hands.
I make my way past baggage claim, find a bathroom, and lock myself into a stall. With shaking hands, I pull my phone out and power it up, willing it to hurry so I can get some comfort. I wince when I see it’s past four thirty in the morning. I hope he still answers, even though it’s the buttcrack of dawn.
Dialing Malcolm’s number is the work of a moment and I take a deep breath when I hear ringing in my ear. I hold my phone tightly in my hand, willing him to answer. Praying this goes right for me. “Hayes,” I hear in that lovely baritone and the breath I was holding flows out of me.
“Malcolm?” My voice is shaking, but that can’t be helped.
There’s a pause, then he asks, “Who’s calling?”
I cough a strangled laugh that’s more of a sob and say, “It’s Red. Daddy, I really need your help.”
Chapter Four
Quin
It’sRed.Daddy,Ireally need your help.That plays in my head over and over as I drive to the airport to get my boy. Well, notmyboy. Thismanthat needs my help. I never thought I would hear from Red again, even if I went back to Ontario. For him to call me was a shock, but I dropped everything I was doing—which isn’t much since I was getting ready for a workout, but that could wait until I found Red, took care of him and figured out why he needed my help.
Since it’s so early in the morning, traffic is light until I approach the airport. Then it’s bumper to bumper, with drivers blocking the streets to let people out to catch a flight or to pick people up that are arriving. I drum my fingers on the wheel and glance around with impatience. I told Red to stay where he was until I got here, so he could feel safe. He sounded frightened when we spoke and I didn’t want him overwhelmed around people.
When I spot a car pulling away from the curb, I jerk the wheel over and pull in. I hop out, much to the annoyance of those driving behind me, but I don’t give a fuck. They can wait until I get Red safe.
Fuck, what is his real name? I could have easily looked it up when I got home, but I wanted him to keep that and I liked the thought of our little game. I liked thinking he had a secret from me that only he would tell me, same as I do about my own name. It’s not important that I know what it is, but it would be nice to know what to call him besides the pseudonym he uses when he’s working, even though he identified himself that way on the phone earlier.
Looking around for the landmarks Red told me about, I find the ATM between the newspaper holders and spot the bathroom right beside it. He said he was in the middle stall, so I make my way there and stand against the wall right across from it. I don’t want to knock on the door and startle him, so I just say, “I’m here, baby boy.”
The door flies open quickly and the next thing I know, I have my arms full of a crying and shaking boy. Red clings to me and lets out harsh breaths and quiet sobs, soaking my neck and shirt pretty quickly.
I hold him tight, rubbing his back and smoothing his hair, letting him know I have him now. Other people come in and out of the bathroom, but neither of us pay them any mind. Pulling him snug to my chest, I comfort him from whatever is bothering him and the people giving us strange looks can fuck off. Or I could shoot them. I’m good with either.
Sniffling softly, Red pulls back from me and drags a trembling hand down my face. “You really came.”
Smiling softly at him, I kiss his forehead, feeling suddenly protective of him. “Of course, I came, sweet boy. You called and said you needed help. What can I do?”
Red wipes under his eyes and looks around. He huffs a laugh and tucks himself into my side. “That breakdown was a little embarrassing.” He looks up at me and smiles, but it’s weak and uncertain. “Can we go somewhere to talk?”
“Of course. We can go get food or I can get a room so you can rest. I live about an hour and a half from here, so a room would be more comfortable.”
He looks down at his phone and his eyes grow wide. “I didn’t realize I was in there that long.”
Wrapping an arm around him, I walk us out of the airport to my car. I’m surprised I don’t see a ticket on the windshield. Opening the passenger door, I get him inside, reaching across to put his seatbelt on. On impulse, I kiss his forehead, linger for only a moment. He smiles softly at me with a faint blush on his cheeks, and I jog around to get behind the wheel. There’s a hotel next to the airport that has room service, so I take us there, get us checked in, and up to the room.
Red has on a suit, and I wonder where he was and why he was at the airport. I don’t ask those questions just yet. I pull Red over to the couch, sit him down and lift his foot. I take off his shoes, then his socks. From there, I remove his jacket, tie, shirt, and slacks. When he’s only in an under shirt and his boxer briefs, I sit down and pull him onto my lap so he’s straddling me. Red puts his head on my shoulder, tucking his hands around my body. I want him to be comfortable when we talk, not feeling choked up by the tie that was clasped around his neck.
Running a hand down his back, I murmur, “You want to tell me what happened or you want to get some rest first?”
He shakes his head against my shoulder. “I need to tell you now. If I go to sleep, it’ll only be worse when I wake up. I have panic attacks and I feel like if I don’t let this fester, the eventual attack won’t be so bad.”
It’s hard to keep my voice steady to ask what’s going on again. I feel my temper just below the surface, but I can’t defend him from a panic attack. I can’t shoot that. “You have meds with you? How do you come down from an attack?”
“Breathing exercises. I didn’t have time to grab my medication before I hopped a flight. As you can see, I’m in a suit and I’d never travel in that.”
“Show me your breathing exercises.” I need to know so I can help him when he feels it coming on. After he does, I nod and say, “Okay, baby boy. Take me to the beginning. What happened? Why did you hop on a plane in the middle of the night?”
Red takes a deep breath and says, “I’m not really an escort. I mean, I’ve done it before, but only when I need the money if I get fired. Well, I’ve been looking for a job for the past few weeks and nowhere has called me back, so I asked Cara to set me up with someone so I can pay rent.”
