Page 52 of Devil's Hour

Meow.Bones was a little louder the second time.

“You’re not getting treats in the middle of the night.”

Meow.The third time was loud and indignant.

“Fine, but don’t make a habit of it.” The cat’s judgmental expression said he shouldn’t make a practice of sneaking in at oh-fuck hundred either. “So, I’m not perfect.” He retrieved the snacks from the cabinet while His Royal Highness watched him. “Maybe we can work out some trade deal here, pal. I’ll sneak you treats, and you can help me out with your dad when I screw up, yeah?” Bones gobbled the snacks while looking at him with pure adoration, which Royce took as a yes. He scratched the space between Bones’s big ears and smiled when the purring got loud enough to rival his Harley. His father had never allowed pets, which Royce now realized was a good thing since it meant fewer innocent victims were caught up in the violent man’s wrath. “Can you keep a secret, big boy?” Royce snorted at his ridiculousness. How the hell would Bones rat him out to Sawyer? Write him a message in his litter box? Feeling bold, and also a little silly, Royce said, “I made a jealous ass of myself over the cute, nerdy café owner. It turns out he’s allergic to cats, so I went in there with my chest puffed up for no reason. That dude was destined for the friend zone from the very start.”

Bones put his paws on Royce’s shoulders and head-butted his chin.

“You like that, huh? I mean, I know on some level your dad would’ve found his way to me anyway, but I’m glad I didn’t have to sit by and watch him date someone else first. Pretty sure it would’ve hurt a hell of a lot more than the stupid bullet wound.”

Bones suddenly stiffened and looked over said wounded shoulder. The cat’s entire demeanor changed, including the way his purrs sounded. His body coiled with tension, but not the bad kind. It was more like Bones was so excited his body could barely contain it. His purring got louder and faster as if he’d cranked up an internal dial. If Royce had foolishly thought for a second that Bones favored him over Sawyer, the feline quickly set him straight.

“What are you doing on the island, Bonesington?” Sawyer asked firmly.Uh-oh.Sawyer only called Bones the ridiculous name when he was in big trouble.

Bones jumped off the counter and ran for it, leaving Royce to face the music all alone. Smart cat. Then he wondered just how much of his idiotic rambling Sawyer had overheard. Before Royce could turn around, Sawyer wrapped him up from behind, bracketing his body from head to toe and pressing him into the island.

“Chest puffing, huh? I thought you just went to Levi’s café to make sure he was good enough for me? Was it all a lie?” There was no anger in Sawyer’s voice, only humor. “I should be so mad at you.” The lips trailing kisses along Royce’s neck said he wasn’t.

“But you’re not,” he said confidently.

Sawyer dropped a hand to palm Royce’s cock and balls through his jeans. “How can I be mad when you’re the one I wanted to be with all along? Allergic to Bones or not, there was no future for Levi and me.”

“Good thing you told me before I cut his brake lines,” Royce said, then gasped when Sawyer squeezed his junk a little harder than necessary. “Okay. Okay. I was only joking. Besides, I’d never do it myself.” Sawyer squeezed harder. “Joking,” Royce gasped. “Easy now. I have plans for the boys soon.”

“Yeah?” Sawyer asked huskily.

“I’m hoping to unload them on your face.”

“Mmmm,” Sawyer moaned behind him, pressing himself tighter against Royce’s ass. “Filthy. I like it. You’re awake. I’m awake. So…”

Royce wanted the closeness sex brought them, to get lost in the rapture, but he needed something else first. He turned around and cupped Sawyer’s face. “I still feel like things are unresolved between us.”

“They aren’t for me.”

“I am…” His voice broke off as emotion stole his breath. Sawyer’s concerned eyes searched his. Royce cleared his throat and started again. “I need you to know who I am.”

“I do.”

Royce shook his head. “You know bits and pieces about me, but you don’t know all of me.”

“Is this about your family?”

Royce nodded. “My father is many things, none of them good. He was a mean drunk who liked to beat up on his wife and kids when the world let him down. He was convicted of involuntary manslaughter when I was nine. He’d gotten in a fight outside a bar and punched a guy, knocking him out.” Royce couldn’t suppress the shudder from remembering how those ham-sized fists felt when connecting with his body. “The man hit his head on the concrete curb when he fell, fracturing his skull. You probably want to know what caused the fight? According to my father, the man looked at him wrong, so he followed the guy outside to teach him a lesson. I can vividly remember the limp-wristed gesture Dad made at the kitchen table, justifying why he hit Beau Michaelson. It took a few more years before I learned what it meant, and a few more after that before I realized the truth about myself.” Seeing the look of horror on Sawyer’s face made him sick. He pushed on. If the goodbye was coming, he wanted to get it over with.

“The only peaceful time I had growing up was when he was sent to prison for twenty-four months. That’s all he got for committing a hate crime. Two fucking years. Our peace didn’t last long because my mom got sick with cancer.” Royce had to pause again. “She was the only bright spot in my life. Well, she and my older brother, Jace, who had always shielded us from Dad’s abuse whenever he could.” Jace would probably never want to look at him again once Benton told him what he saw. “Losing her was so fucking devastating, but we were facing foster homes since Dad was still in prison.” He paused to take a deep breath and Sawyer kissed him, letting Royce know he hadn’t chased him away.

“Aunt Tipsy moved back to Savannah and took the four of us in until Dad was released from prison. Drusilla and I refused to move back in with Dad, but Jace and Benton did. Our family had never been close, but fractures formed and began to spread from that day forward.” He told Sawyer about Jace’s battle with PTSD and alcoholism after serving four tours in the Middle East. “Drusilla and her two kids moved in with my dad after she got tired of her husband smacking her around. She moved out of one abusive home and into another.” Royce shook his head. “I’ve tried to help her, but she doesn’t want my help.”

“Why?” Sawyer asked softly.

“I trusted her with the truth about me when I was in junior high, and it repulsed her. She didn’t betray my confidence to the others, but she doesn’t trust me to be alone with her kids.”

“Christ,” Sawyer said, rubbing his hand up and down Royce’s spine.

“And you saw Benton. He’s a mean fucking addict, Sawyer. He doesn’t care who he hurts as long as he scores.”

“Your sister lets her kids around him, I suppose?”