Page 6 of Aftermath #1

6

A ustin knew better than to turn off the lights in the living room; Cam had made it perfectly clear that the lights were important. But he did get up to quickly adjust the spotlights overhead, dimming the brightness so it was less likely he would get a headache from them. Then he returned to the bed and listened as Cam told him how the kidnapper had beaten him senseless.

In the meantime, Austin did whatever he could to make Cam comfortable. By now, they were both on the bed, completely sprawled out along the length of the queen-sized mattress, and Cam was using Austin's arm as a pillow.

"He k-kept shouting how I had ruined his l-life," Cam muttered with his eyes closed. "I tried to resist, but I couldn’t f-fucking move."

Austin squeezed his eyes shut, remembering how he'd waited for Cam to be returned to their cell.

"Come on." Austin's knee bounced. His eyes were fixed on the door. "Come on, Cam."

It had to have been hours later Austin heard the door to the basement open again. What followed was the sound of someone falling down the stairs, which alarmed him. Clenching his fists behind his back, he flinched when the metal of the cuffs dug into his wrists, but he was too furious to give a rat's ass. All he wanted was one round with that madman, and then they'd see who was boss.

The door to their cage soon opened, and Austin found himself staring at Cam's lifeless body on the floor just outside the cell. If it wasn’t for the shallow, rapid breaths he heard, he'd think Cam was dead.

Austin's spine turned to ice.

"Take him," Mr. Whoever-the-hell spat out, pointing his gun at Austin. In his free hand, there was what looked like a medical kit. "Take him and clean him up. I have no further use for him. Yet."

"A bit hard to help him if I can't use my hands," Austin bit out, sneering.

"Beat him!" someone down the hall screamed. Victor. "Beat him and take his keys!"

Austin barely refrained from rolling his eyes. As desperate as he was for an escape, he wasn’t stupid. There was no way he could defeat a man while cuffed behind his back, not to mention the madman had a gun.

Their kidnapper only chuckled. "I suggest you get creative, then."

There was no finesse or gentleness about it. Austin was forced to drag Cam back into the cell by his feet, and he nearly dislocated his shoulder in the process. It took time, and he couldn’t imagine the pain Cam was in.

The lamp in the ceiling above their cell didn’t provide much light, but Austin could still make out darkening bruises, bloody cuts, and swelling on Cam's battered body.

The door was closed behind them, and the hatch slid open next. "Uncuff yourself then him." The madman tossed the two keys on the floor, and Austin squatted down to pick them up. "Put the cuffs on again in front of you. Evan can be free of his while he sleeps the day off."

Austin dropped his cuffs on the cot next to him, then stood up and glared at the man on the outside. "Why should I put them on again?"

"I'd think Evan would want sustenance soon. Wouldn’t you?"

"Fuck," Cam rasped in a whisper from the floor, "f-fuck you."

"Very well." The psychotic creep nodded. "No food or water for either of you until you're both cuffed." That said, he threw in the medical kit, shut the hatch, and left the basement.

Austin released a breath and let his eyes travel down Cam's body. The scars and the tattoos made him unique. The muscles that were slowly rebuilding made him look strong. Good food made him look healthier. But he was still vulnerable, no matter how Cam hated to admit that.

Austin was unable to deny that he actually found Cam beautiful.

Perfect with all his imperfections.

As Cam sleepily mumbled about "Psycho" throwing him around in that torture room, he turned onto his side, his front facing Austin, and Austin brushed his fingers over Cam's right wrist that was now wedged between them.

He hoped the scars from the handcuffs wouldn’t be too deep, but he had a feeling that was a pipe dream. Austin was getting rid of his bandages the day after tomorrow, but Cam had another few days to go.

In captivity, they had patched each other up as best they could. They'd been each other's nurse, doctor, shoulder to cry on, and punching bag. Because it'd be a lie to say Austin and Cam got along from the beginning. They still butted heads, especially with Austin's newfound anger and Cam's short fuse, but they made it work somehow.

Austin hoped they'd be able to patch up each other's emotional wounds, too, even if it was going to take years.

Austin sat down next to him on the cot, worried as hell that Cam would have a full-blown panic attack. Slowly, he pulled off Cam's shirt to inspect the damage. Jesus Christ. Oh, there was damage, all right. There were also countless tattoos.

"Lie down," he murmured, gently pushing Cam back. The younger man obeyed silently, his breathing still irregular, and his eyes wide open. "Can you tell me where it hurts the most?"

He rummaged through the medical kit, locating some antiseptic cream and a couple sterile pads.

When Cam failed to answer and began hyperventilating, Austin scooted closer and automatically cupped the other man's cheek, but the gesture felt too intimate. It was something he'd do to comfort his wife or baby girl, not a grown man.

As he moved his hand to Cam's shoulder instead, he started to speak quietly, words of no importance, but hopefully they'd be enough to distract Cam from whatever hell he was suffering internally.

At the same time, he cautiously ran the washcloth over Cam's wounds. Luckily, the water in their bucket was still relatively clean, and Austin wanted to get rid of as much blood as possible before starting with the pads and the cream.

He'd already scooped out two tin cups of water for later use; he figured Cam would need to drink soon. They both would, trapped in this humid hell, but Austin could probably go without for longer than Cam could.

He continued to speak about trivial things as he cleaned Cam's upper body. He absently spoke about his daughter when he noticed the violent wince Cam gave the second Austin came in contact with his ribs, and he murmured a low curse. Was anything broken? Because they were shit out of luck in that case. There was nothing Austin could do if there was a fracture. Antiseptic cream, pads, bandages, and a small suture kit would only help with superficial wounds.

Truth be told, Austin didn’t know for whose benefit he kept talking. Maybe it was for himself—to keep memories and his own identity alive and real—and perhaps it was to give Cam something else to focus on. Regardless, when he registered a slight change in Cam's posture and his breathing, the reason didn’t matter. Cam was starting to relax; that was important.

By the time Austin had done his best to wipe away blood and sweat, the water in the bucket was tinted dark pink in the florescent light from above them.

"Who the fuck," Cam coughed, "names their d-daughter Riley?"

So, that’s what he's found to focus on , Austin thought wryly. "Glad to hear you're still the polite ol' you," he drawled with a shake of his head. "And I named my baby girl."

After his little brother who had died of leukemia as a child.

"I didn’t say it was ugly, did I?" Cam got defensive. "Just, you know…" He shrugged, which hurt. "It's a boy's name."

"I like you better when you're hyperventilating and can't talk," Austin snapped. "What the hell is wrong with you, anyway?" He swiped a sterile pad with antiseptic cream over Cam's jaw, and it ticked with tension. "Do you have a breathing problem or something? Oh, and what is up with the damn finger tapping?" He shook his head again, annoyed, and tried to refocus on cleaning the cuts. He also made a mental note to apply some antiseptic to their wrists. Might as well enjoy their uncuffed freedom while it lasted.

"None of your fuckin' business," Cam gritted out.

It had become Austin's business soon enough. Cam had told him, and because Austin hated being helpless, he now researched Cam's disorders in his spare time, which he had plenty of.

"It's too late for you to drive home now," Cam said tiredly, not opening his eyes. "You got plans tomorrow?"

Austin stifled a yawn and fished out his phone to set the alarm. If he was home before Jade left for work, there shouldn’t be any problems. "Not really. I have Riley, and when Jade gets home from work, I have an appointment with Angelo." He was their physical therapist and had his own practice near the hospital.

"What does your wife do?"

Austin reached behind him to put his phone and glasses on the coffee table. "She's a medical social worker. She assesses whether or not a patient needs help after leaving the hospital." He rolled over to face Cam again and automatically draped an arm around his middle. "God, I'm exhausted." While he snatched a pillow for them to use, Cam blindly searched for something behind him and found a soft blanket to pull over them. "This is a whole lot better than the floor."

"What do you mean—oh. Right."

Yeah, the last time they'd slept this close together, it hadn't been nearly as comfortable.

"Don’t fucking remind me." Cam scooted closer so their foreheads touched on the pillow. "Night."

Cam fell asleep first, and Austin found himself gazing at the man he was beginning to see in a new light. Or maybe it wasn’t very new at all. The way they often hovered near each other couldn’t possibly be because of simple friendship. You wanted to be with a friend, but that didn’t explain Austin's need for always taking that extra step to be within reach. One of them always made that little move that brought them closer.

When Austin roused a couple hours later, his alarm hadn't gone off yet. He was drowsy, only half-awake, and he wondered idly why he'd woken.

It wasn’t Bourbon. That little thing was sleeping in a corner on what looked like a couch cushion. But Austin got his answer as soon as he felt Cam in front of him. Having shifted during the night, he was now spooning Cam, and Austin bit back a groan when he felt his morning wood pressing against Cam's ass.

Cam was deeply asleep, but he wasn’t still. Austin guessed he'd been woken up by Cam pushing his body more firmly to his, and now Austin was beyond conflicted. At the same time, he was half-asleep. Not a good mix…depending on how you looked at it.

Asleep enough to remain where he was. Asleep enough to take physical pleasure from the position they were in.

Awake enough to wonder if it was just comfort, or if he really was attracted. Awake enough to know he shouldn’t be here.

Asleep enough to not give a shit.

He let sleep get him again, but an ounce of consciousness lingered. Wading through blurry dreams and the knowledge of having Cam's body against him, he shifted forward just an inch or so as he slid his hand up Cam's chest. There was a slight dusting of dark chest hair, lighter than Austin's. What drew him in the most was the faint scent of detergent and Cam's aftershave. It was warm, but comfortably so, and the last thing he wanted to do was leave.

Cam began to wake up when he sensed Austin. He froze for a split second, ready to pounce, but since he'd already acknowledged it was Austin, someone he trusted with his life, it was easy to relax again.

He wasn’t completely relaxed, though. His cock had noticed how Austin's hard body was pressing against Cam's back, and he cursed under his breath. He wished he could blame this on Austin, but considering how Cam was pressing back just as much, he couldn’t.

Fucking hell. This wasn’t the time for this shit. He was thirty-four years old; did he really need to remind himself not to react like a teenager? Austin was not only married, but he was straight. These days, he was also Cam's closest friend.

"Christ, Austin," Cam bitched in a voice thick with sleep. "If you don’t wake up and join the living, I'm gonna break one of my rules." He never brought a conquest home. His house was a sanctuary, not a place for hookups and reminders of drunken mistakes. "You won't like it, trust me. Back off." He didn’t bottom for just anybody.

"What…" Austin mumbled, not yet awake.

Irritated and turned on, Cam pushed back against Austin's impressive morning wood and grumbled, " That . Get it away from me."

He would've moved away himself if it wasn’t for the fact that he was already crammed up against the waist-high wall that was used as a partition between the seating area and the patio door. Austin Huntley was evidently a bed-hog.

Austin hummed sleepily and gave a slow thrust of his hips, the thin layers of cotton between them betraying just how hard he was against Cam's ass.

"Jesus Christ," Cam murmured, a bit out of breath. Arousal flared up, but he needed to get over that quickly. Which wasn’t easy when he felt warm lips pressing a kiss to his neck. "Wake the fuck up, man."

Thank God Austin's alarm went off a couple seconds later.

Cam knew exactly when Austin woke up fully, 'cause he went completely rigid. Then he moved away and cursed, leaving Cam wondering if Austin had known they were both awake.

"Sorry." Okay, Austin knew.

"No worries." Cam looked over his shoulder to see Austin adjusting his dick in his sweats. Squinting, he was fairly positive Austin's cheeks looked a little flushed, but he couldn’t be sure. Sleep and scruff were in the way. "I'm usually in your position though, so this was new." Not completely new, but whatever.

At that, Austin turned and faced him, confusion written across his features. "What?"

Cam waved it off. "Never mind. You gonna head out right now or do you wanna take a shower first?" He scratched his jaw. "There're leftovers from yesterday, but that’s about it." Fuck, he really needed to get out today. Lots of shit he had to buy.

"Um." Austin rubbed his shoulder, then stretched his arms over his head. "Damn, I'm getting old." The stretching caused his T-shirt to ride up, exposing his toned stomach and the trail of hair that led down to— goddammit . Cam rolled his eyes at his own reaction and pulled the blanket over his head. This was why he'd banished all thoughts about Austin in the past. "I don’t fucking know. Probably best I head home."

"I think I'm a bad influence on you, Mr. MBA." Cam spoke into his pillow as he willed his dick to stand down. "Even in that basement, you used proper language." Mostly, anyway. Damn and shit were one thing, but the man never said fuck. Now, though? Fuck .

Cam honestly only had one memory of appreciating the view when they were in hell.

Cam and Austin surrendered after a day and a half. They put on their cuffs and returned the keys and the medical kit to Psycho. Defeat hurt their egos, but they were too thirsty and hungry to wallow in it.

Once they'd devoured their food and chugged down half the bucket of fresh water, they made a pact. Strength—they needed it. They had to remain both mentally strong as well as physically. 'Cause if the authorities never found them…they'd have to rely solely on each other. Fuck, they already were.

Since Cam's bruised ribs hurt like a son of a bitch, there wasn’t much he did at first, but Austin began to spend his hours of nothingness working out.

Getting rid of his filthy T-shirt, he dropped to the floor and did push-ups. Supporting himself on his knuckles, Cam noticed, which stunned him just a bit. For some reason, Austin came off as a wholesome family man. But when he worked out, he looked like nothing that would be described as wholesome.

The muscles in his back rippled with each shove off the ground, his skin glistening with sweat. His biceps bulged, his neck strained, his breathing was harsh, and he didn’t fucking stop. The first pause came when Cam had counted forty push-ups, and it only lasted for ten minutes or so. Then Austin started all over again, but with crunches. Maybe his abs weren’t as defined as Cam's were, but the man was still buff and strong. Broad shouldered. He was also a few inches taller than Cam.

He was fucking hot.

"Don’t forget to drink," he muttered, tearing his gaze away from Austin on the floor. He was irritated for some reason. Frustrated and tense. He wanted to work out, too, but his ribs were fucking killing him.

Not for the first time since they'd been taken, Cam could kill for a goddamn smoke.

Shaking that off before worse memories could come to mind, Cam moved over to the edge of the bed and reached for his cigarettes. A glass of watered down vodka on the table reminded him of last night and how Austin had calmed him down.

"Bourbon pissed on the floor," Austin noted.

Cam shrugged and lit up a smoke. "Piss happens."

Perhaps he could install a doggy door to the fenced backyard; he would just need to replace the whole fucking patio door, seeing as it was glass. But he wanted Bourbon to be able to run in and out whenever he wanted.

"C'mere, buddy." He leaned down and ruffled the soft fur of the pup. "I think we should go for a run before those fuckin' errands." Cam did not look forward to this day. He hated being around too many people.

"What're you gonna do today?" Austin sat down on the coffee table and started lacing up his shoes.

"Grocery shopping, get my cars from the garage…" Landon had taken care of Cam's two beauties—one black Dodge Demon 340 from '71, and one indigo blue Chevrolet Camaro SS from '69—while he had been away. "Need to call Gale… Thought I'd drive over to the cemetery, too." He frowned, thinking about the guys they'd lost. Unlike Austin, Cam hadn't been to the memorial, 'cause he couldn’t handle that shit.

A few days later, Mr. Stone—yeah, the motherfucker was back to that name now—tossed a disposable razor in each cell as he delivered breakfast. He also announced that he had a meeting planned with "Thomas" later that afternoon. Then he left, leaving the men tense and wary.

As Cam and Austin took turns shaving off their growing beards, several other guys began talking about their so-called schedules, and a man named Chris revealed that it said Thomas on his.

"You never told me what he did to you," Austin said quietly, watching as Cam shaved his jaw.

"Isn't it obvious?" Cam retorted bitterly. "He beat the shit outta me, and there was nothing I could do about it."

"He didn’t say anything at all? Nothing to explain his, uh, behavior?"

Cam blew out a breath and ran a washcloth over his freshly shaved face. It would itch without any kind of shaving cream or aftershave, but they couldn’t exactly afford to be picky. "He called me his cousin. Evan—it's his cousin, I guess. He said I'd contributed to ruining his life."

"What the fuck?!" the guy with a New York accent shouted. Cam was fairly sure by now the dude's name was Lance. "Yo, I need some help in hea'!"

"I'll be right there!" another man yelled sarcastically.

It was quiet for a while, aside from someone shuffling around in his cell.

"Christ, James." That was Lance again. "I can't—I can't fucking stop it. I can't stop the bleeding."

James had only been the first guy to leave in a body bag. He had taken out the sharp razor blades from the plastic handle and dragged them along the insides of his forearms and then swallowed the blades.

"Do you want me to go with you?" Austin's question brought Cam back to the present.

Cam shook his head no and swallowed hard. He needed to get rid of Austin before he embarrassed himself some more. Last night had been more than enough. "Look, I'm gonna get ready—"

"Yeah, no, of course." Austin stood up. "We'll talk later?"

"Sure thing."

When they were standing by the door, they said goodbye and Austin walked toward his Mercedes. "Wait—just one thing," Austin said, opening the door to his car. He tapped the top as if he was hesitant to speak. "Did you say something earlier about, uh, about a rule you'd break?"

Cam blinked slowly as he tried to catch up with Austin's thoughts. It hit him, and he bit back a laugh. Leaning against the doorframe, he folded his arms across his chest, feeling a smirk tug at the corners of his mouth.

"You really wanna bring that up, buddy?" He reached up and scratched his neck. This was fun. No, fuck that. This was fucking hilarious. Austin was uncomfortable, and he wasn’t even looking Cam in the eye. Eye contact was usually Cam's problem. "Maybe it's best you run on home to the wifey. All right?"

"Or maybe you should answer my fucking question, Cam," Austin snapped irritably.

"Oh-ho!" Cam laughed. Christ, he wished he could read Austin's mind right now. Closing the door behind himself, he walked down the two steps and approached. "What do you really wanna know?" Standing on the other side of the open car door, Cam flashed a wicked grin.

"I want to know what you meant," Austin replied imploringly. "Same goes for what you said about the position you're usually in."

This was getting good. Almost too good. "It means I'm usually on top, Austin." Cam rested his forearms on the door. "And the rule?" He chuckled. "I was just fucking with you. Give it a rest."

Austin arched a brow behind his glasses. His confidence was back. "And who are you usually on top of?"

"What the fuck, man?" Cam cracked up again, took a step backward, and widened his arms. "Are you seriously asking me that? What do you want from me, huh?"

"An answer."

Cam was starting to wonder if he'd missed something. What had been on Austin's mind lately? 'Cause this was new. "I'm usually on top of whoever I'm banging—that what you wanted to hear?" He decided to lay it all out there. "Men, women, whatever. There. You got your answer." With a shake of his head, he turned around and walked inside.

He didn’t give a shit what people thought about his sexuality— usually . He couldn’t imagine Austin having any issues, but if he did? Fuck, Cam would care.

Son of a bitch, this wasn’t gonna be a good day. He could feel it.