Dark Skies Looming Over: Chapter Two
Here’s the next installment of Dark Skies Looming Over. Special thanks to stark-black for reblogging, and for encouraging me to join this site! And thank you to any of you who have read and responded or faved the fic so far! I really appreciate it.
Title: Dark Skies Looming Over
Author: Esoteric Fallacy
Warnings: Prostitution, Violence, Language, Sex, Drugs, etc.
Previous Chapters: ONE
Summary: Adam is a jaded, cynical man who sees the world in shades of gray, until troubled Luke stumbles into his life and inadvertently drags him into a bizarre, twisted place full of things Adam never believed could exist.
Adam sipped his coffee, cringing as it hit his tongue. He couldn’t believe they were charging three dollars for this crap. “Why do we come here again?” he asked, reaching for his third sugar packet.
”What?" Jeremy repeated, loud enough to draw some attention from the table beside them. "What the hell were you thinking, Adam?"
"Mostly that it was so cold outside, my balls were about to shrivel up and fall off. And that if I didn’t tend to my hair right away, I’d never be crowned homecoming queen."
Jeremy hadn’t touched his tea since Adam had started telling him about the strange boy he’d taken in several nights earlier, give or take a few details. Adam, of course, was being predictably difficult about the whole thing. Even though he knew damn well his ex was right to be concerned, he’d just never been big on admitting fault. At least not out loud. Deep down he was well aware how nuts that choice had been, how dangerous. But he was too stubborn to say it. Jeremy had always hated that about him, but unfortunately Adam was also flawed with a resistance to change.
"You’re insane. He could have robbed you."
"Yep, probably." Adam tested the coffee again and decided the acrid taste was better than developing diabetes in an attempt to sweeten it.
"God, you have the self-preservation skills of an intoxicated marmot."
"Pass the creamers."
"For Christ’s sake." Jeremy tossed a few containers at Adam before finally picking up his lukewarm drink. "I don’t know how you survive in East Valley."
Adam smirked to himself, gazing out the window at the people passing by. The sky was still heavy with the promise of more rain. “I would have thought you’d be more shocked that I’d done a good deed, to be honest.”
Jeremy rolled his eyes and looked out the window as well. “I knew it was a bad idea for you to go back to bartending. What did I tell you? Three weeks and you’re already back on the scotch.”
"Can’t you tell by the depressed gleam in my eye that I’m still painfully sober?" Adam turned his focus to a stubborn biscotti, trying to break it in half. "Look, I know it was a little out of character."
"But it turned out okay. Not like he had the chance to go make copies of my keys or anything."
Jeremy snatched the biscotti from him, breaking it in half and handing one of the pieces to Adam. “Why not call child protective services or something? What if whoever messed him up was out there, following him? And, I hate to say it, but what if the kid had lice or something. Now you need to clean your whole place.”
"It’s not like he ran around rubbing his head on things," Adam said. "He took a shower. I made him some dinner. He went to bed."
"You cook now, too?" Jeremy scoffed, dipping his biscotti into his tea. "I don’t even know you anymore."
"Ugh, gross! How can you eat it like that?" Adam asked, chewing on the hard cookie.
"See, this is why we broke up," Jeremy said, dipping the biscotti again. "I like to moisten my baked goods. You like to bring underage prostitutes into your home in the middle of the night…"
"Whatever. He’s gone either way. Not like I’m gonna see him again." Adam wouldn’t admit that he’d thought about the boy several times since the encounter. He just couldn’t shake that strange sensation. Maybe it was the way Adam struggled to find words that could even describe what he had felt that had him dwelling. But it hardly mattered now—the kid, along with any evidence that he had even been there, had vanished by the time Adam woke. There hadn’t been a note or anything, not like Adam had really expected one, but the fact that nothing was stolen was as good as a thank you card in Adam’s opinion.
Regardless, he wondered where the kid had gone. Was he still out there wandering? Had he returned home? Was he with some other guy now, doing what he’d intended to do to Adam in return for a place to stay? The thought made Adam shudder. It was sick that a person could be forced to survive that way, especially someone as young as that boy. A child deserved to grow up without having to fight to survive. That was something he believed on a very personal level.
"But it’s not like you’d have time anyway, since you’re too busy jerking off to your own reflection."
Adam glanced over, staring for a moment before it registered that Jeremy had been talking to him. “I wasn’t looking at my reflection.”
"There aren’t many things that can hold your attention more than the topic of you," Jeremy assured him.
"So what now?” Adam asked, finishing the liquid mud in his cup with a single gulp.
"I was telling you that a few of us are going out to Hollywood Sinister this weekend."
"Cool, a night club. I don’t work at one of those five nights a week, so I’ll definitely want to go to one on my day off."
"There’s a guy you might like who’s coming with. I think you two might hit it off."
Adam sighed. “Are you reigning me in a booty call?”
"No," Jeremy said. "I wouldn’t call it that. I’m just subtly commenting on your mood and the fact that you need to get laid. If this guy happens to put out like nobody’s business, well, that’s just a bonus for you, right?"
"The real bonus will be the chlamydia."
"Just say you’ll be there."
Adam glanced out the window again, just in time to catch a flash of bright blond hair as someone passed. He craned his neck for a better look, then realized what he was doing and sat back. It couldn’t be healthy to be so preoccupied with a kid he hardly knew. Jeremy was right about how badly Adam needed a little action.
With a sigh, he pushed his empty coffee cup away and got to his feet.
"All right, whatever."
Jeremy grinned triumphantly and stood as well. “Lighten up. It’ll be fun. Seriously, when did you become such an old geezer?”
"Don’t you have a job to get to? Or are you paid to publicly berate people in cafes?"
"Eh, you like the abuse," Jeremy said, and Adam couldn’t help but grin. The two exchanged hugs and good byes, then Adam grabbed his jacket and reluctantly headed back out into the dreary afternoon.
By the end of the week, the weather hadn’t improved at all. In fact, old Zeus seemed to be particularly pissed that afternoon. Adam tossed his drenched jacket on the couch and shut the door behind him with his foot. Sopping wet clothes be damned, Adam wanted nothing more than to collapse in his bed and sleep for a day or two. His ears felt stuffed with cotton from the night of damagingly loud music. His temples throbbed in time to the techno beat still stuck in his head. In fact, his whole body ached from the constant pouring, shifting, sliding, reaching for money, reaching for booze. The only thing more driving than the urge to pass out was the need to wash the scent of Grey Goose and cloves off his skin.
Adam had never pictured himself working at a hipster bar, but with his… history… not many places were willing to take him in, and his skills were limited beyond making one hell of a drink. The Black Hole had decided Adam’s experience and talent outweighed the risk of his explosive personality. He had to take what he could get.
Many people were surprised when Adam had decided to go back to bartending, but he just couldn’t do the minimum wage thing forever. Besides the fact that he could survive on the tips alone serving liquor, Adam was just familiar with the work style and the kind of folks who frequented such establishments. It suited him—even if he’d grown to hate clubs over time. Either way, he’d been at the place for a month without a hitch. With luck, it would stay that way.
As he kicked off his shoes, Adam noticed the answering machine light flash, and he pressed the button on his way to the kitchen.
"Sent, Thursday, 7:53 P.M," the robotic voice read out to him as he filled a glass with tap water.
"Adam, this is your grandmother," she said, as if he couldn’t guess. "I’m calling to make sure you’re still coming down for Thanksgiving. I need to know how many places to set and if I’m going to have to switch to the good china. I hope you’re not still going through your little ‘no meat’ phase, because I don’t think we’ll be having any tofurkey this year unless you bring it yourself. There’s just no time with all the things I have to cook. I have the sweet potatoes, and the green beans, and the tuna casserole, and the ham because your cousin Tim is supposedly allergic to turkey. I swear his mother just coddles him. If she wants to keep him so sheltered, she should do the cooking herself. I already have so much on my plate. There’s the quiche, and the salad, and the stuffing which takes a good hour because I’m using that new recipe I told you about…"
Adam mostly tuned out the message as he battled the rising dread that threatened to constrict his throat. The last thing he wanted to do was go back to his home town for Thanksgiving. There was too much there. Too many memories. Too many reminders of the things that made him the bitter person he was today. Adam chugged his water and set the glass in the sink, then wandered back into the living room. A glimmer of light caught his eye as he passed, and he looked over at the silver frame beside the telephone. Sometimes Adam forgot it was there, but it was practically glowing tonight. He picked it up, gazing intently at the young man in the photo. Collin smiled at him in that shy way he always did. He looked so happy.
"I expect you’ll want to come down for a few days, but give me the exact dates because I need to know if I should wash extra sheets. I suppose you can sleep in the guest room with your cousin Derek. You boys need to—"
The answering machine cut her off, and Adam rolled his eyes, setting down the picture before crossing the room and sinking into the sofa. “I’m sick, grandma,” he mumbled to himself. “I can’t go. The flu, really bad. Yeah, I’m vomiting everywhere. It’d be a bitch to get that out of your carpet.”
"Sent, Thursday, 8:09 P.M," the answering machine continued, before his grandmother’s nasally voice filled the apartment once more.
"I think your machine is broken—I got disconnected somehow. Anyway, Adam, I don’t want any of your excuses. At the very least, you should come down here to see your mother."
Had he not been so delirious, Adam very well may have given himself whiplash snapping his head around to face the machine. Even as exhausted as he was, the words cut through his haze like daggers and buried themselves in his gut. Every muscle in Adam’s body tensed; for a beat or two, he was pretty sure his heart had stopped.
"She sent a postcard last week telling me she’s planning on coming to dinner and looks forward to seeing you. I’m sure you’ll want the chance to get back in touch with her."
The rest of the message didn’t register as his grandma went on to complain about the price of canned cranberry sauce. Adam hadn’t spoken to his mother in easily four years. Even then, his contact with her had been minimal. Phone calls. Letters. And then that last conversation they’d had…
His stomach flipped like he was going to be sick. Hand over his mouth, Adam ran to the bathroom, doubling over the sink. He fumbled with the nozzles but managed to turn on the cold water, splashing his face and holding his breath until the nausea passed. When he was certain he wouldn’t vomit, Adam exhaled, gripping the side of the sink and letting the knot in his stomach untie. It was like someone had reached inside of him and fastened a vise grip on his gut.
He wasn’t the easily surprised sort, but there were some things Adam just wouldn’t allow himself to anticipate. If a person tried hard enough, it wasn’t too difficult to completely push someone from their mind. To have that person suddenly thrust back into one’s reality was as jarring as watching the dead coming back to life. He couldn’t stop shaking, half upset, half enraged that the news was affecting him like it was.
Again, Adam’s stomach flipped, and he swallowed hard. No doubt he looked as awful as he felt at this point. When he dared it, he glanced up at his reflection, startled by the pale, exhausted looking man that gazed back at him. He looked older now than he had when he’d left the apartment that morning. It was amazing how stress so quickly transferred to his face, like some kind of deadly rash. So much for living fast and dying pretty.
"God, you need a vacation," Adam told the mirror. His reflection offered no reply.
Whatever had been on Adam’s mind an hour ago was crushed the moment he was sucked into that familiar mass of bodies: tangled limbs, sweat down his back, fingers sliding up wet skin. Even without the rush of alcohol, it was so easy for Adam to lose himself— he knew this language well. It was rhythmic vibrations in his chest, heat beneath his hands, lust that poured off of the body that was grinding against his own. His brain was numb to everything but that perfect ass pressing into him. Right now, nothing else mattered.
To think just forty-five minutes earlier he’d been ready to bolt, pacing back and forth near the club entrance like a nervous cocker spaniel. Even after years of working in the same chaotic environment, Adam had never quite grown accustomed to that initial jolt, the first few minutes of music so loud it was painful. Adam had figured his eardrums would have been dulled and damaged to the point of needing a hearing aid by then, but without fail, every time he came within a few feet of the club his ears started screaming. This was a daily thing for Adam, and what he had really wanted that evening was to sit around at home and mope. In fact, he’d already thought up a really good excuse in anticipation of the inevitable, angry phone call he’d get if he were to make a run for it.
But then Jeremy showed up, draped over the arm of some bodybuilder, walking like he was already wasted and dressed like he planned to make a little money that evening. A young guy with an affinity for hair gel was tailing them, and though he had a look on his face that suggested he thought himself pretty damn amazing, Adam concluded that he wasn’t particularly hard on the eyes. His date, he assumed. Not exactly Adam’s type, but he was hot, and for tonight that was good enough.
Jeremy introduced hair-gel boy as Ricky, and the guy took his hand and squeezed it, rubbing his thumb along the edge of Adam’s knuckle. He gazed into Adam’s eyes with an exaggerated expression on his face that Adam assumed was supposed to be seductive.
"Nice to meet you,” Ricky cooed. Adam just barely held back the smirk.
Inside, the club was as loud and crazy as Adam had figured it would be; but once he’d gotten used to the music, he realized he could probably use the distraction. Try as he may, Adam just couldn’t get that message about his mother out of his head. It kept playing in his mind on repeat, making his stomach twist and knot. He couldn’t believe after all this time he still let that woman get to him. Hadn’t he been through this enough times to know how to detach himself from the bullshit? He wasn’t a little boy anymore. All he wanted was to move on.
Fortunately, the booming base and frantic techno music beating against his skull made it hard to form a coherent thought. The four of them weaved their way through the crowd and stopped when they’d found a spot near the bar. Jeremy had already successfully forgotten the rule of personal space and was throwing his arms around Adam, talking into his throat and shoulder. He screamed over the music, directly into Adam’s ear, filling in details on the guy he was with— Tim, Jim, something like that— in a drunken tenor. The other two made brief attempts at grabbing the attention of the bartender, but they eventually returned empty handed. The club was becoming more and more packed by the minute, and soon it was difficult to stay huddled together. By the time Jeremy had latched onto his date again, there were already a few dancing couples between them, so Adam gave up trying to communicate. He took a deep breath, prepared to give in to the spirit of the club; somewhere inside of him, there had to be a reckless teenager who didn’t give a damn about brain cells or hearing damage.
"So where do you work?" Ricky asked, tilting his head so that his overly greased bangs slid over his eyebrow.
"Oh, Jeremy didn’t tell you? I work in an old folk’s home, tending to the elderly. I’m usually playing bingo on the weekends. This is my first time getting out in months."
Ricky looked like he wasn’t sure what to say, so he licked his lips and parted them suggestively. “Cool,” he said, the default response to having nothing of importance to add to the conversation.
Adam glanced out at the crowd, noticing that somewhere along the way Jeremy and Jim/Tim/Whatever had disappeared. Ricky seemed not to have noticed the absence and was currently working on drawing attention to his bared midriffs.
"So you wanna dance?" Adam asked, even though he already knew what the answer would be.
Just like that, they were in the middle of sexually charged chaos, all conversation put on hold. Adam found he rather preferred this sort of communication with Ricky; it was a lot easier to appreciate the guy when he was talking with his body and not his mouth. But Adam could certainly think of other things that mouth might be good for.
It had been a little while since he had been to a club as a customer rather than an employee, but what was nice about a place like Hollywood Sinister was that it mattered not at all if someone happened to be a little rusty. He didn’t need to be an amazing dancer; he just had to be comfortable with showing off his bedroom skills. Ricky certainly had no problem leading the way in that department. He had his back to Adam’s chest, and he rubbed against him, putting particular emphasis on the place where their hips met. They rocked together, instinctively matching one another’s rhythm as Adam slid his hands under Ricky’s shirt to caress his chest. His heart was racing, blood pumping as they practically dry humped among the hundreds of other people doing the same.
Adam couldn’t keep his eyes off of those lips: the way they parted; the way Ricky’s tongue slid over them, sending a jolt straight to Adam’s cock. It was intense being that turned on. The rush was making him dizzy, and Ricky’s practiced, deliberate movement was getting him worked up to an unhealthy degree. Adam was fairly certain he could soak up this lust all night if he didn’t pass out first.
"Fuck," he finally gasped. "I… need fresh air. Coming?"
“Hopefully,” Ricky smirked.
Adam would have rolled his eyes, but he was way too on edge. He pushed through the crowd without looking back at Ricky, assuming the guy would follow. The last of his energy went into wrestling his way to the club doors, and he exploded into the evening like a drowning man breaching water. Relief washed over him and he took a deep breath that burned his lungs; it had stopped raining several hours earlier, but the air was especially crisp and cool now. Adam had been more overheated than he’d realized. How long had they been on the dance floor, anyway?
There was a chain link fence a few yards away that looked fairly welcoming and was far enough from the building that he could smoke there, but before he could get make his way over, two hands grabbed his shirt and tugged him into the darkness of a nearby alleyway. Adam had no time to react as Ricky shoved him against a brick wall and slid up in front of him, grinning. Their faces were only a few inches apart, and Adam shuddered at the warm breath on his lips.
“It’s chilly out here,” Ricky panted. “Wouldn’t want you to catch a cold.”
A half grin tugged at Adam’s lips as fingers snaked down his sides and over his belly. Well, well. Jeremy had promised and Ricky had delivered. No complaints on Adam’s part—especially not when he so enjoyed watching his date fall to his knees in front of him. Ricky kept eye contact as he undid Adam’s fly with his teeth and pulled the zipper down in the same manner. God, it was tough not to just jerk down his pants himself and shove his cock between those wet lips.
Ricky’s fingers gently danced over Adam’s sides, giving him goosebumps on his arms and another spark of desire down below. He tugged down Adam’s pants just enough to free him, and Adam startled at the sudden rush of cool air on his erection. Fortunately, it wouldn’t be chilly for long as Ricky’s hands gripped him firmly, but not too tightly, and his pink tongue flicked out to lick the head. Adam gasped, digging his fingers into the brick behind him. The long dry spell was certainly making this whole thing that much sweeter, but there was no denying the underlying skill in those touches—this guy knew what he was doing.
Ricky’s tongue grew more confident as it slid over the head of Adam’s cock, expertly tracing the contours; then those lips joined in, caressing and teasing before inviting him into the heat of his mouth. Adam’s breath hitched as he fought not to thrust into the warmth, but Ricky maintained control. Adam watched as he was taken in at an agonizingly slow pace, gradually sliding in as deep as he could go. When Ricky’s lips touched the base, he drew back to the tip again with more pressure than before. With one hand, he massaged Adam’s sack, sucking harder as he found a rhythm.
Adam groaned, tangling his fingers in sweat-slick hair. Though Ricky had failed to say anything of interest that evening, Adam couldn’t deny that the guy sure had an experienced tongue. In fact, he had no idea how long he would last—between the end of his unplanned celibacy and the way this guy handled cock, Adam was quickly losing control. He almost asked Ricky to slow down, but he couldn’t find the words. That coil in his gut was already tightening, and..
The sound of a door opening had Adam jumping before he even registered what it was. He jerked back before the other could pull off of him and bumped against Ricky’s teeth in the process, sending a spark of pain through his groin. “SHIT!” he cursed, trying to be quiet as he turned away from Ricky and grabbed his crotch. A confused looking young man in a white apron stared at them, then tossed a bag of trash in the dumpster before going back inside. Adam didn’t turn to make sure he had left. Once the sting had started to fade, he gingerly stuffed himself back into his jeans and scrambled out of the alleyway. Adam had no idea why he hadn’t seen that coming; lately, the entire world was out to blue ball him.
“Shit,” he said again, under his breath, searching for his pack and lighter with shaking hands. Once he had them, he made his way over to the fence and practically collapsed against it. Ricky was right behind him, equally flustered, maybe a little flushed like he was embarrassed, which genuinely surprised Adam. As eager as the guy was, that couldn’t have been his first time getting caught.
Adam appreciated the long moment of silence between them before Ricky leaned against the fence as well. “…Sorry.”
“Why, did you plan that?”
Adam laughed and glanced over, hoping the guy wasn’t serious but not bothering to explain the joke. He finally managed to light his cigarette and inhaled deeply, turning away toward the street.
Ricky fidgeted beside him, pushing sweat drenched bangs away from his face. “I just mean… uh, well. I owe you one. Later tonight. If you still want it.”
Their eyes met, and Adam grinned. “…Seriously? No, that was your last chance. It really puts me out to have someone suck my dick.” And the fact that he was still rock hard meant he only liked the guy as a friend.
Ricky semi-smiled like he wasn’t entirely sure if Adam was kidding or not, but his shoulders relaxed. The half-grin still on his lips, Adam leaned back and watched people going in and out of the club as he let the nicotine haze calm his nerves. Near the entrance, the bouncer was fighting with some yuppie kid with plastic rimmed, ridiculous glasses. Glasses that Adam was willing to bet weren’t at all necessary. The bouncer was pushing him out, and two girls were trying to wiggle their way in, causing a commotion.
"Damn," Adam sighed, blowing out a stream of smoke. "Wonder where Jeremy and Wonder-hunk went."
Ricky shrugged. “You used to date Jeremy, right?”
Adam made no indication that he intended to continue, so Ricky went on.
"Why’d you break up?"
"Eh," he stretched his legs, rolling onto his heels. Frankly, Adam was surprised Jeremy hadn’t told already; he’d always been a bit of a blabber mouth. But maybe that information was a little too embarrassing, even to him. "We’re just… really different people."
"Kind of weird that you guys are still friends," Ricky said. "I’m not friends with any of my exes. They’re assholes."
Adam shrugged. “I’ve been told I make a better friend just in general.”
He glanced at Ricky and grinned at the skeptical expression on the guy’s face. “That doesn’t mean I’m lacking in the bedroom department, though, believe me,” he said, turning his attention back to his cigarette. “And I’d appreciate it if you just gave me the benefit of the doubt, cause I’ve been dating that fleshlight I got for Christmas for like three months, and we’ve really wanted to try having an open relationship.”
When Ricky didn’t reply, Adam looked over to explain to the guy that he was just teasing, but Ricky wasn’t facing him. He was staring across the street at a small cluster of cars. Adam followed his gaze, pulling the cigarette from his lips and leaning over to see what was so interesting. Beneath a light post, some man in a suit was yelling at two young people—teenage boys, it looked like. One of the boys was getting into a car that had actually pulled right up onto the sidewalk, but the other was turned away. It wasn’t until the man grabbed the boy that Adam could see him clearly
Pretty face, blue eyes, startlingly blond hair—it was Luke.
"Holy shit," Adam breathed. What were the odds, this far away and in a city as big as theirs? With his mind caught up in the crap regarding his mother, Adam had nearly forgotten about the boy from a few nights back. And now, here he was apparently fighting with some weird guy in front of a diner.
Adam’s stomach flipped as he saw the way the man’s fingers dug into Luke’s arm. The boy clearly didn’t want to be anywhere near this guy, but he was standing in a manner that suggested it was causing him great discomfort to resist the grip. Adam flashed back to that night a few days earlier, those bruises on the boy’s throat. Maybe he was looking at the mother fucker who’d put them there.
“What? Do you know those people?”
Adam didn’t reply. This was none of his business. He knew it was none of his business. But that didn’t stop his chest from tightening, his heart from racing. He had to say something, do something. Anything. It was so fucking easy to look the other way, wasn’t it? So fucking easy to ignore that woman at church with a permanent black eye, to pretend like your neighbor’s son just fell down the stairs a hell of a lot. No one wanted to look. No one wanted to dirty their hands. And he’d be damned before he just stood around and watched someone beat up on a kid half their size.
Adam pushed away from the fence and started toward the group. It looked like they were too busy fighting to notice him approaching, but before Adam could cross the street, Luke looked over, immediately catching Adam’s eye. Like a bolt of lightning, that strange feeling from before hit him hard, and Adam froze. His heart began to pound, hands began to shake. The breath froze on his lips. What the hell was happening? All of that determination from just a moment earlier was completely replaced by a surge of emotion Adam couldn’t describe. He felt paralyzed; all he could do was stare into that intense gaze, the startled expression that likely mirrored his own.
But the surprise on Luke’s face abruptly faded to panic, and suddenly, he wasn’t resisting anymore. Before Adam could take another step, Luke was crawling into the vehicle, disappearing behind tinted windows. The man followed after him without looking over, and soon the three cars on the curb pulled away, speeding off into the night.
Adam remained frozen for an unnatural amount of time, staring in the direction the cars had driven, even when they were long gone. He didn’t know what to think, nor was he sure exactly what had just happened. He felt pity for the kid, of course, but that didn’t explain the odd feelings that lingered.
After a few minutes that felt like an eternity, Adam let out a long, slow breath and walked back to Ricky.
"Hello? What the fuck was that?" Ricky asked, hand on his hip.
"Didn’t look like nothing."
"Yeah. Funny how that goes." Adam leaned against the fence again, tapping away a chunk of ash.
Ricky narrowed his eyes and huffed, dramatically. “You know, keep up the attitude and you’re not getting in my pants after all,” he threatened.
"Heh, really now?"
"…Well, no. But I won’t swallow."
Adam smirked and finished his cigarette. “Come on,” he said, heading back to the club. He had all the time in the world to agonize over things he couldn’t do shit to change. Right now, he just wanted to dance and fuck the night away. He deserved that much.
Author Note: Thanks for reading! If you’d like to be a part of my mailing list for future updates, please let me know! Also, I love hearing from readers, so if you have the time or the urge to send me a comment or question, please leave one here or by clicking on the link that says “Send me a message!”