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Chapter Nineteen
Ford
“Branford, you remember Abigail.” It was his mother, Alicia.
Oh, he remembered the girl, and she didn’t look a hell of a lot different than the last time he’d seen her. Based on the sneer on her face, she wasn’t too damn happy to see him either.
“Of course, I do, Mother. Abby, you look like the same chubby girl from grade school, except something’s a bit different. Did you go to Switzerland or Los Angeles? The nose job is amazing, and the capped teeth? I wish I’d have thought of it first.” His angry taunts weren’t well received.
It wasn’t Abby’s fault they were being forced together. Her father, Charles, was a client of Ford’s father, Neil. It was his parents’ attempt at securing a lifelong bond with the Mellon family because they were far wealthier than the Thomas family.
As Ford stood in the foyer, he knew for a fact there was no way he was going to allow his parents to steer his life along the path they’d chosen for him, as it seemed they had done with Sela. He’d leave home and live on the streets before he allowed it to happen to him.
His older sister, Sela, was a beauty. She was a tall, blonde-haired, blue-eyed femme fatale who had a desire to be the woman behind the camera, not in front of it. She wanted to go to Rhode Island School of Design and study photography.
She’d taken pictures of the family since she was a small girl, and Ford thought her photos were amazing. He’d even taken some of them away with him to boarding school.
Unfortunately, his parents believed Sela’s job aspirations to be a flight of fancy. A common photographer had no place in the family, and it definitely wasn’t good enough for Neil and Alicia Thomas’ oldest progeny.
Their parents had goaded his sister into moving to France to attend the prestigious Sorbonne. She was to study painting, at which she was already proficient because she had a knack for using color to its best advantage. Painting, however, was not her heart’s desire.
When the family learned she’d left home before being put on the plane for France, Ford cried because he’d miss her. She knew his truth, and she swore she’d be there for him, but she’d left so easily without even a goodbye, which broke his heart.
“Branford!” His mother scolded him as they stood in the foyer with Abigail Mellon fuming at him.
The girl glanced up and gave his mother a bright smile with her brand-new capped and straightened teeth, her smaller nose, and her colored, contact-lens covered eyes. “It’s okay, Mrs. Thomas. Bran’s just jealous because I’m prettier than him now, and I’m dating Sterling. You always had a thing for Sterling, didn’t you, Bran?” the hateful girl announced, filleting him right there in his parents’ foyer.
“Wake the fuck up.” Ford was engulfed in large arms which could only belong to Jackson Delacroix.
“Wah?” He gasped, opening his eyes. Jackson stared at him with concern. When he glanced down, Ford was still dressed and lying on the sectional in the great room. His shoes were off, but he was still in his jacket and slacks.
“Did you check the messages here at the house? Is Kincade home?” Ford was suddenly frantic.
“Baby, he’s upstairs in bed. Why?” Jax brushed his fingers over Fords cheek.
It was then he remembered what happened earlier in the evening… or was it also a dream?
There’d been a woman at the club who distinctly didn’t belong. She was familiar, and the way she studied him as he moved around the floor that Thursday night to check on his customers gave him the distinct impression that she wasn’t a friend, though he had no reason to believe her to be a foe.
He’d asked Cleveland if he recognized her, but when he pointed to the table she’d occupied, she was gone. It bothered him, but he had no idea why it reminded him of his sister. He’d often wondered how she was, but they’d never bothered to look for each other after they’d gotten older. It made Ford a little sad.
“What time is it?”
“Four thirty. You were talking in your sleep, and I had to pee. Come on, baby, up to bed you go.” Jax extended his hand. It was a good idea, so he held the man’s hand and followed him to their bedroom.
The next morning would bring a clear head, he was sure. He’d had a couple of scotches at the club because he was nervous about something he was planning to do soon, and he’d taken the car service home where he obviously passed out in the living room.
As he scanned the room, he said, “We need to decorate, love.”
“We’ll get right on that.” Jax pushed him up the stairs, crutching behind him. Once they were in the bedroom, Jax stripped him. Ford kissed the man, wrapping his arms around the thick neck and sniffing the familiar scent of one of the men he loved.
“You wanna fuck me?” Ford giggle snorted as Jax continued to remove his suit coat. When he felt other hands on him, he glanced down to see the other love of his life.
“Bix, honey, did you have a few cocktails?” Cade asked, bringing a laugh from him.
“I did and where’d you go? Why’d you leave without me?” Ford hissed, feeling a little unstable as Jax pushed him down on the bed.
Cade laughed and pulled off Ford’s suit slacks. “Should I get him some aspirin?” Cade’s voice was soft. Ford loved that voice.
“The best medicine would be your cock in my mouth.” Ford loved hearing the hearty chuckle of the Ragin’ Cajun.
“Get the pain killers. I’ll finish with him. He’s drunk and horny, but I doubt he’d last through a blow job, much less a full-fledged fuck session,” Jax answered.
Ford wanted to protest, but the bed felt so good under him. He was lifted as his shirt and T-shirt were removed. There was a gentle touch on his face, and a soft kiss on his lips, so he opened his eyes to see Kincade, smiling gently. “Where were you, sweetheart? I looked for you because I wanted Sela to take a picture of you for my desk.” Ford remembered his sister—or someone who looked like her—being at the club but she didn’t have her Nikon around her neck like he remembered.
“How about you swallow these and some water, and then we’ll think about pictures? Who is Sela?” After swallowing what Cade gave him, Ford snuggled into the middle of the bed awaiting his two lovers. Life was perfect.
“His older sister. They haven’t spoken in a long time. I’m not sure what’s going on, but every day brings a new surprise, chére. Let’s get some sleep. Maybe we push him to the edge and get a trash can. You can sleep on my side, and I’ll look out for him. Leave the bathroom light on, just in case.” Jax’s voice was like music to his ears.
When warm arms surrounded him, Ford smiled as he drifted into a drunken, dreamless sleep.
“Should we worry?”
“Naw. We all get a little blue every now and then. He misses his sister. I wonder if we can find her?”
“Hell, I’ll try. What’s her whole name?”
Ford opened his eyes to see Jax and Cade on either side of him in bed with coffee. The smell made his stomach roil, so he climbed over Cade and ran to the bathroom, closing the panel door of the toilet closet. It wasn’t pretty at all, but after he finally came around, he felt a lot better.
The shower turned on, and after he stumbled out of the toilet closet, Jax was standing at the sink holding his toothbrush toward him. “You’ll feel better after this.”
Ford took it and scrubbed his teeth, fighting the bile trying to erupt. Once he rinsed his mouth a few times, Jax pushed him into the hot steam of the shower.
A gentle hand pulled him down on the bench and he didn’t argue with Cade. “Let’s sweat out the poison, and I’ll wait until after I make you some food to ask you what the fuck happened last night to make you get dog-ass drunk and come home without calling either of us. When I left at nine, you told me you’d be home by midnight.” Cade’s words weren’t loud, but they echoed through Ford’s head like he was sitting next to a loudspeaker.
Ford nodded, and Cade continued. “Jax and I waited up, and when you didn’t get home before two, we went to bed. What happened, Branford?”
Ford searched his memory, and for the life of him, he drew a blank.
“Sweetheart, I have no idea. I remember seeing a woman at the club who looked familiar, but I just couldn’t place her. I also remember—I think I remember—a text message. I need to find my phone,” Ford said.
“Yeah, we’ll get there in a minute. Just sit here and drink this.” Cade handed him a bottle of water.
For fifteen minutes, he sat in the sauna function of their large shower, and when the steam cleared, Cade turned the shower heads to cool. Ford’s mind cleared, as the cool water worked wonders. After they washed each other, they walked into the bedroom in towels to see Jax sitting on the made bed in shorts.
“You okay, baby?” Jax asked Ford as he made his way forward on a cane, his cast still in place.
“I have no idea. I’m confused as shit, really.”
Foggy images of the night before danced through Ford’s head, but they were pixilated like a poor-quality video. He simply couldn’t make it any clearer in his mind, but he remembered snippets of a conversation.
“ Boss, you okay? Maybe you should go home?” Cleveland was standing behind the bar staring at Ford.
“ Did you know that woman?” Ford swayed on the barstool.
“ Where’s Kincade Hayes? I need to speak with him, Branford.” The woman’s voice was commanding.
That was it.
“Bix, are you hungry?”
Ford opened his eyes to see Cade dressed and holding a tray of toast and scrambled eggs, which he put over Ford’s lap where he reclined on the bed.
Ford sat up and looked around. “Where’s Jackson?”
“I had Cleve take him to the doctor to get his cast removed. I was going to take him, but you’re my concern right now. What happened to you last night? Cleveland said you were talking with a brunette at the bar one minute, and the next he knew, you were hammered. He said it was busy, so he didn’t notice how much you drank. I’m trying not to think the worst, Branford.” Cade’s serious expression was worrisome.
What did his boyfriend think had happened?
Ford picked up the coffee and took a healthy sip of the dark nectar. Something had happened, for sure, but it wasn’t just him drinking too much. He knew that beyond the shadow of a doubt.
“I think I was roofied last night. There was this woman I’ve met before, but I can’t remember when or where. She waited until I had a few drinks to approach me, and I think she asked about you, but I don’t remember much about it. I could be wrong.” Ford knew he wasn’t that intoxicated. He’d never blacked out from drinking in his life.
“Okay, well, maybe you stay home today. I can handle the club, and Cleve and Griff will be there if I need them. You stay home and get yourself together, okay?”
“Yeah, maybe.” Ford ate the food in front of him and drank the carafe of coffee Cade had brought up. His mind continued to spin.
The woman was familiar, but he couldn’t place her, and that would drive him insane. He needed to get his head together in order to cull through the limited number of women he’d met in his life. She’d drugged him, he was sure, and he’d search his brain until he figured out who she was.
On Saturday afternoon, Branford walked into his club, having opened the front door without his key, to see there was a lot of work going on without his consent. Before he made a stink, he looked around to find Cade and Griff directing things, and he saw Cleveland stocking the bar. He was the man Ford needed to speak to, so he walked over and took a seat.
“Good to have ya back, Boss. You okay?” Cleve gave him a thorough perusal.
“Can I have a coffee? What the fuck happened the other night, Cleveland?”
The large man walked off to the side and poured a big mug of coffee for Ford. He put sugar on the bar and continued unloading the dishwasher.
After a moment, Cleve finally spoke. “There was a pretty woman who sat down with ya. She said you two knew each other, and she asked about Cade, so I figured you guys were cool. You’d sent him home earlier because you told me you wanted him to have some time alone with Jax, so I left y’all alone for a bit and kept an eye on things. You seemed to be getting pissed at her, so I stepped in. I tried to shoo her off. She wouldn’t go, and she wasn’t nice at all.”
Ford could tell the man was hedging the conversation, but he needed the truth. “Did I say who she was? I swear, Cleve, I think she drugged me. I don’t remember too much about the night.”
“ Mother Fucker!” Cleveland’s shout brought all work in the club to a stop.
“Y’all get back to work, now.” Cleve turned to Ford, regret evident.
“Ford, man, I had no idea. She said you were acquaintances, and you two talked for a few minutes. I don’t know who she was, but when she asked me about Cade and the Cajun while you went to the bathroom, I told her I didn’t pry into your business.
“By the time you came back, she’d dropped money on the bar and left. That’s when I decided you were too gone to drive yourself, so I called the car service and sent you home. I’ve never seen her before, but I could pick her out of a lineup,” Cleveland said.
Ford sat on the stool and did his best to try to remember the evening, but nothing took root. It was a lesson for certain. Never turn his back on his drink, even in his own bar.
Ford watched the festivities taking place around him on the Saturday night before Valentine’s Day. There were bubbles in the air, though not an annoying amount. The crowd seemed to love the atmosphere and as the music played, Cade and Griff busily worked behind the scenes preparing the stage for the approaching show.
He didn’t hate that his dancers were performing without drag queens at this event. As Cleveland had said after he broke up with Chablis, drama followed their every move and since Griff had started choreographing shows without them, the work atmosphere was less tense. As a result, the shows ran smoothly and were still entertaining.
Jax had promised to come to the club after dinner with Hans Linder, one of his teammates. Cade had offered to cook dinner at home for them so they could have a private conversation regarding an encounter Hans was upset about, as Jax had explained to them, but the big man declined the offer with a gentle kiss. He’d stated it would be better if the two of them had dinner in public, rather than alone at the Greystone, and Ford trusted his judgment.
When the red-velvet curtain, which was a new addition to the club, opened, there were handsome young men posed in various positions. When the music softly began playing, Ford saw Cade and Griff walk to the center of the stage and spin around in bubble outfits identical to the dancers.
The song blasting through the speakers was an old Dean Martin tune before it ramped up into a club mix. The dancers were entertaining to be sure, but the fact Cade was dancing with them, half-naked, had Ford unnerved. A hand on his arm had him turning to see the brunette from two nights prior. He placed his hand over his drink and smiled. “Ah, back for another swipe at me?”
“I owe you an apology, but in my business, I go for the path of least resistance. I should have asked you the questions before I drugged you. I’m sorry, Mr. Thomas. I’m Fiona Porter. I believe you’ll remember me for getting drunk in a bar where your boyfriend, Mr. Delacroix, had to carry me out? Anyway, I need to speak with Kincade, and I need you to make that happen.”
Ford sneered at her. “Oh, okay!” Sarcasm was thick in his voice. “Shall I get him out of that line now, or can you wait for the show to finish dancing?”
She sighed and turned to him. “Again, I’m sorry I dosed you, okay? I just need to know how much you know about Kincade Hayes and his family. I asked about him, and you got pissed and clammed up on me. I did what I had to do.”
“Well, Ms. Porter, I don’t remember what I said thanks to you. Why don’t you enlighten me?” Ford’s patience with the woman was thin—as was evident in his voice.
The woman sighed. “You told me you loved Cade and Jax. I knew that. You told me all you knew about the Hayes family was Katrina was great, and Hudson was scum. You said something about him also being married to Cheryl and having two children with her, about which I’m also aware. Tell me what you know about Clark Street Shelter and Sammy Belew. He, along with Kincade, worked for Kenneth Shaw.” Impatience filled Fiona’s tone. Her lips were tight as she stared at the stage.
Ford stood, and she stood in front of him. “Don’t try to run away from me, Ford. I don’t want to have to take you and Kincade in for questioning as possible accomplices in an embezzlement scheme. Get Kincade to tell me what he knows.”
Ford drained his ginger ale. He glanced at her and smirked. “Nope. This time you tell me what you know. I’m tired of you coming into our lives and causing havoc. It’s your turn for some truth—Abigail. You are Abigail Mellon, right?”