Cover

Content Warning

Content warning: Please be aware this book contains torture, which may be a trigger for some readers. Proceed with caution.

Chapter One

West

Death was at my door when I opened it. Not figuratively, but literally—Death, the person who did security for the place where I worked. He leaned against the wall opposite my room.

“You ready, kid?”

With a shaky smile, I shrugged to play off how I was about to shit myself. “As long as you don’t call me kid, sure.” I stepped out of my assigned room and into the hall. He started down the hall, and I fell into step beside him. I pressed a hand to my stomach. There was a chance I would vomit, which wouldn’t be pretty, so I swallowed thickly and prayed my light dinner wouldn’t revolt on me.

“Can’t help it. You’re a lot younger than me,” he said. Then, in the next breath, he gave me the rundown on the device I had to wear on my suit while assuring me he would be my backup for that night.

Were they expecting something to go wrong?

That didn’t help my nerves one bit.

In fact, I wondered if Death would mind a pit stop to a toilet, so I didn’t shit myself.

“Wait,” I said, holding my hand up. Turning, I pressed that palm onto the underground garage wall and breathed deeply to try and control my bodily functions.

I hadn’t been kidding. My gut swirled so much it put pressure on my bowels. I inhaled and squeezed my ass cheeks together. If my parents saw me now, they’d disown me. Actually, if my religious and very strict parents saw me and knew I was gay, they’d kick my ass and then disown me. Luckily, they knew nothing about my new job as an escort or the fact I was gay. Something I hid since they would be disgusted.

“West, you okay?”

“Yep,” I chirped and used my free hand to give him the thumbs-up.

Death snorted. “You look like you’re gonna hurl. You don’t have to do this, you know?” His hand landed on my shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

I pressed a palm to my stomach and straightened. Come on, West. You’re being a chicken-shit. You don’t even have to have sex. It’s a date, for God’s sake.

Nodding to myself, I faced Death, and his hand fell away. “I’m fine. You just threw me with all the protectiveness.” I let out a huff of laughter. “Like you think something will go on.”

Death smiled softly. Even if he was a large man covered in tats and looked scary, he was still a sweetheart under it all. Not that I would tell him. I’d get my head bitten off.

“Don’t stress, kid—fuck, West. I’m sure nothin’ will happen.”

Nodding again, I sucked in a breath and straightened my suit jacket. “Right. I can do this.”

“Yeah, you can, and I’ll have your back the entire time.”

“That’s good to know.”

“Besides, if I didn’t, Wreck would kick my ass because Lucas would have a word with him for getting his friend into shit.”

Laughing, I bobbed my head. “That is true.”

Feeling better, I made it the rest of the way to the car Death pointed out. Once there, he handed me the keys. “Drive safe. I’ll be right behind you.”

“Got it. Thanks.”

He tipped his chin up at me in response. Something I noticed a lot of the bikers did. Death was also a part of the Diamond MC. I met the club through Lucas, my friend from college, whose brother was in the club.

They were a good group of people, and if it hadn’t been for knowing Lucas, I wouldn’t have met them. I probably would have been too scared to, since a lot of them looked like they could kill with one hand tied behind their backs.

Slipping into the car, I put the key in the ignition and started the engine. After another big breath, I put it in Drive and headed out of the underground garage and onto the road. I’d already memorized the address I needed to go to where Mr. Adrik Hail would be waiting for me. My date.

The drive took me half an hour, which was annoying because it gave me more time to fret over this. I parked out on the street to this huge condo complex and quickly got out of the car so I didn’t second-guess my choice. My knees were weak, my hands shook, but I sucked in a lungful of air and reminded myself I needed this money.

At least I wasn’t selling my body for money, just my time.

You’re a sinner. Pray to God for forgiveness. Pray to God.

Words my parents used to say when I got into trouble for something flashed through my mind. No, they could never find out about this. Never.

It would be just another sin added to my life, like wanting to move away from them, even when it wasn’t far. It had only been recently they’d started speaking to me again, and only after I’d told them I’d prayed every morning and night for forgiveness.

They were different. I knew this. They were strict, and God was everything to them. My stomach pivoted downward.

Gosh darn it all. Now definitely wasn’t the time to think of them. I was doing this for me, to help my future, to set me up, because there wasn’t a chance I would go back to living under their roof.

I had to get my head in the game, so I pasted on a smile as I opened the front doors to the building where Mr. Hail lived on the top floor.

Two men stood behind a desk, and both looked up when I entered. Their grave expressions had my smile slipping a little, but I pushed it back up.

Was having men guarding the door a normal thing for condos? I’d heard of doormen before, but these two looked nothing like doormen. Besides the fact they hadn’t opened the door for me, they both wore plain black T-shirts, and if I had to guess, since I couldn’t see below their waists, they’d have jeans on as well.

One picked up a phone and said something into it in a quiet tone.

“Ben Gowan?” the other man called with a slight accent.

I nodded and walked the rest of the way to the desk. “Yes, I’m me. I mean him…. I’m Ben.” Shit, get it together, man. The new name, my escort name, had me fumbling like a fool. I had to remember my name so I didn’t give anyone my real one.

“Mr. Hail is waiting for you. I’ll escort you up.”

Wait, what? Why?

“Um, sure, okay.” I stepped back and waited for him to move around the desk. He grabbed a jacket on the way. When he walked by, putting on the jacket, my eyes widened when I caught sight of the gun strapped to his back.

Who was this guy? No, more importantly, who was Mr. Hail? A condo didn’t need this type of security, did it? For a moment, my hand itched to touch the pin I wore on my suit. This whole scene had me on edge.

At the elevators, the man pressed the button and then turned to me. “Do you mind if I pat you down?”

“Sorry?” I choked.

“Pat you down for weapons,” he said seriously and with an intense gaze.

Laughing uncomfortably, I waited for him to join in, thinking he was pulling my leg, but he didn’t.

My laughter evaporated. “Right, okay, sure.” I nodded. His hands ran over my body quickly, and I found it strange he was doing it now and not when I first walked in. I could have had a gun and shot them both already, then got in the elevator and headed up to kill Mr. Hail. I wasn’t sure if mentioning the flaw in their system or not would be good. It could get me killed. Then again, there was a possibility I looked innocent enough they didn’t think they needed to check me over until now. Or their skills were that good, and I didn’t seem like a threat, but they’d better do their job.

The guy straightened. He nodded just as the doors dinged open. We stepped in, and there was a moment I felt like making conversation to fill the silence, but I didn’t know what to say and worried anything I said would sound stupid.

Did he know what I was there for?

Did he know Mr. Hail paid for my company?

Shaking my head slightly, I pushed all thoughts out because none of it mattered. Nothing mattered except getting my head in the game. I wasn’t sure my mind would ever really be in the game, though, not at the moment anyway, not since it was my first night. My first client.

My heart galloped in my chest when the doors dinged open. The guard stepped out first. I followed and waited behind him, since he stopped just outside the elevator doors.

A sudden urge to pee filled me when I heard heavy footfalls on the polished wooden floors.

Then he was there. I peeked over the guard’s shoulder when the guard dipped his chin, saying, “Mr. Hail.”

“Ostav’ nas,” Mr. Hail barked.

Oh boy, he had a thick accent. A Russian accent that shot a tingle to my balls.

That wasn’t good.

It wasn’t good at all.

The guard didn’t say anything back to whatever Mr. Hail said. Instead, he turned and jolted slightly when he saw I was behind him. He nodded at me and stepped back into the elevator, pressing the button to close the doors.

I’d turned to watch the guard and realized it would have been better to keep an eye on Mr. Hail. If I had, I wouldn’t have been shitting bricks to have to face him. However, I couldn’t stay looking at the doors forever. It started to get to the point of awkwardness.

Sucking in a breath, I slowly moved back to where Mr. Hail still stood. His arms were crossed over his broad chest now. A chest that was covered in something I didn’t expect. He wasn’t in a suit. No, he dressed casually in jeans, boots, and a T-shirt with what looked like some band’s logo splashed over the front of it.

I really felt overdressed and uncomfortable.

“You wore suit.” His accent rolled through me and lit up my nerves. I’d always been a sucker for accents.

I swallowed, looked down at myself, nodded before lifting my gaze back up, and up some more, since he was taller, before nodding again. The whole time I gave myself a pep talk: I had to harden myself against his voice. “Yes,” I said softly.

He grunted. “Come,” he ordered before spinning around and stalking off.

He scared me, aroused me, and intrigued me—all within a matter of moments since I’d seen him.

I took a step his way and then back again.

Shit, shit, shit.

I wanted to run, but I couldn’t. Clenching my fists at my sides, I walked around the corner, which opened into a large, pristine living room. Only, Mr. Hail wasn’t there. Thankfully, I heard clattering coming over from the left side of the room where another doorway stood. I made my way over with my stomach threatening to throw up the minimal food it had in there.

The doorway was a hallway. I started down it until I found another opening, which led me into a chef’s dream kitchen. Mr. Hail was at a counter, placing plates down.

“Dinner,” he clipped. His accent sent a shiver down my spine.

He wanted me to eat dinner with him? Did he realize how late it was?

Stepping in, I walked over and stopped on the other side of the counter. I wiped my sweaty hands on my pants before holding on to the edge of the counter. “Um, do you need help with anything?”

His gaze rose slowly and locked on to mine. I gulped as he studied me. Hoo-boy, the room seemed to heat even more, and all on its own, because he certainly hadn’t moved to turn up the thermostat.

“Yes? No?” Crap, did he understand what I was saying? He spoke a few words in English, but maybe he preferred Russian? Had Saint or one of the other bosses messed up and sent the wrong person for Mr. Hail? “Sorry, I don’t know Russian. You probably prefer to speak that, and I’m unable to, but I promise I can try to understand if you still want to have dinner with me. I’m good at charades. We could act out what we want to say if you can’t understand me.”

Charades? Seriously, why did I fucking say that? I could have nut-punched myself.

He turned to the stove. “Russian is my first language, but I understand English.”

A blush hit my cheeks. Now I felt like a complete moron.

“Right, of course. Sorry for thinking otherwise.” I stared down at the counter and ran my fingers over the cool marble. “So,” I drew out. “Did you want a hand with something? I’m not a good cook, but I can cut, boil, bake treats, and plate up like a pro.” I blanched. My eyes widened, and I looked up to see him watching me. “Not a pro as in prostitute, but a professional. I meant professional.”

His stern gaze softened for a second, not even that, maybe a fraction of a second before he said, “Go. Sit.” He nodded behind me, and I looked over my shoulder to find a table, which was already set.

“Right.” I nodded. God, he probably wanted to eat already so he could get me out of there. I was an idiot to think I could act cool and aloof with clients when deep down, I was still a bumbling idiot. I quickly moved over to the table and sat. I wasn’t foolish enough to sit at the head of the table. Mr. Hail certainly looked like he was in charge, and his position was set in stone. Even with the small amount of time I’d spent in the building, I could see the man wasn’t one to be messed with.

It had me wondering why he needed company from an escort in the first place. Why didn’t he just have one of his friends over for dinner and a chat?

Whatever it was, it wasn’t my place to question his motives. I was there to do a job, and if Mr. Hail wanted to eat dinner with me, we would. Besides, it smelled amazing.

I jolted when a bowl was placed in front of me. I glanced down, and my mouth watered.

“Beef stroganoff,” Mr. Hail stated as he put his own bowl down and sat.

I smiled. I didn’t let it wither when he just stared at me, giving me nothing. Instead, I said, “Thank you. It looks and smells amazing.” I picked up my fork and took a mouthful, moaning as the taste exploded in my mouth. I opened my eyes, which I hadn’t realized I’d closed, to see Mr. Hail had been watching me still. He didn’t pick up his fork until I nodded and mumbled, “It’s great.”

He grunted and started eating. Silence rent the room except for our forks and the slight sound of munching. I really didn’t do well when things got quiet. In fact, I got more nervous. I felt like I needed to speak and make things comfortable, but I was fighting myself, unsure Mr. Hail was looking for someone to start dribbling shit about nothing in general.

So, I would sit there in silence.

I could.

I had to, because he certainly wasn’t saying anything.

Silence was good.

Oh, look over there to the row of floor-to-ceiling windows that I can jump out. I just have to move the transparent curtains. Why do people get see-through curtains? Wait, it looks like there’s a balcony. At least I won’t have to climb out a window.

Yep, silence was so much fun.

Well, what do we have here? There’s a dead plant sitting in a pot at the end of the row of windows. Maybe the silence killed it.

On my last forkful, the silence got to me, and when I placed the fork down in the bowl, I rambled, “My mom cooked beef stroganoff once, but it was nothing like this. She also couldn’t say the words as well as you do.” Heat hit my cheeks, and I quickly went on. “But when Dad complained about the meat being too tough, she never tried again and stuck to her normal meals she was used to cooking. They mainly contained sausage and vegetables. Meatloaf and vegetables. Lamb stews and chicken and rice. There were other plain dishes, but nothing to rave about. It wasn’t until I reached high school and was allowed to attend my first and only sleepover that I discovered pizza.” I groaned. “I never knew love until I had my first taste.”

Laughing, I shook my head. I hadn’t once looked at him while I spoke; instead, I gazed out the windows or down at the table. “When I started college and moved out, I kind of went crazy with all types of takeout, but I soon realized it wasn’t good for my bank account. Still, I spoil myself once a week with it.” Where the hell was I going with this conversation? “Anyway,” I drew out, sliding my fork back and forth in the bowl. “Do you eat takeout?” Did that sound rude? Did it sound like I didn’t enjoy the meal? Shit, I was getting paid to be here, and now it sounded like I was judging his food or the fact he cooked by mentioning takeout. With wide eyes, I dragged them up and spewed the words, “Wait, I didn’t mean I didn’t like dinner. I did, and I appreciate you cooking. I wish I could cook. Seriously, that was the best meal I’ve had in a long time because I’m not a good cook.”

“I know you liked it,” Mr. Hail replied, and that was it.

I slumped as the tension rolled off me. “Well, that’s good then.” I smiled. What did we do now? Did he want to watch a movie? Read a book together? Did I suggest something? If I didn’t look away from his lips, he would get an idea I liked them. I didn’t. His full, pink lips weren’t spank-worthy material. I pulled my gaze up to his dark blue eyes that matched well with his dark blond hair. The sides were shaved close to the scalp, but on top was party time with a messy length that sat over to the left side of his face.

If I weren’t gay, I was sure the sight of Mr. Hail could turn me.

Clearing my throat, I glanced away. “Um, this is a nice place you have. Do you work from here?”

“Nyet.”

I knew that word meant no. I’d heard it on some movie. He wasn’t very forthcoming, but then again, I wasn’t here for him to open up to. I felt myself burning up, knowing he was looking at me, yet I didn’t want to meet his intense gaze. Instead, I stood slowly, moving my chair back. “I’ll take these to the sink.” I smiled. “You cooked. The least I can do is clean.” Before he could protest, I quickly took his bowl and walked around the counter. I started rinsing the bowls and pan when I noticed Mr. Hail standing opposite me, watching.

“At least you have a dishwasher,” I said, opening said machine to pile the things in. “I don’t have one in the unit I live in. I wash everything by hand. Not that I mind, it gives me time to think and go over things I’d learned in college that day.”

“What you study?”

Gosh, I loved his accent. “What” sounded like it started with a v instead of a w. But shit, I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to talk about myself—my real life—or make something up. If I did make one up, would I remember what I told him if I came back?

Stuff it. I had to go with the truth. He knew me as Ben anyway, so it wasn’t like he could look me up. “I’m studying medicine. I’m training to be a doctor.” His reply was to hum under his breath. Of course I went on. “It’s hard, but I know it’ll be worth it in the end.”

I picked up a sponge and wiped down the counter. I placed the sponge on the edge of the sink and grinned over at Mr. Hail. “All clean.” What did we do now? I wanted to ask, but I planned to keep my lips sealed this time to see if Mr. Hail said anything.

And he did. “You play chess?”

“I do, Mr. Hail. I’m a master at it, so be ready for me to kick your butt.”

His lips twitched. “We will see.” He turned and ordered over his shoulder. “Come.”

I followed him into the living room, where a chess set sat on the coffee table in the middle of the room. Mr. Hail sat on the couch, and I moved around to the other side. I took off my jacket, placed it on the sofa behind me, and rolled up my sleeves before sitting on the floor instead of the couch. There was just enough room for me. Mr. Hail watched me, something he seemed to like to do. I glanced away and took in the massive television mounted on the wall to my left. Then the bookcases on either side of the screen. There were many books, and I had an urge to see what the man read but didn’t.

The Story Continues on BooksBarbecue!

Enjoyed this preview? ❤️ Do not stop here!

Read the complete book free online → 🔗

Continue reading now on BooksBarbecue and discover every page!

Love reading? Bookmark BooksBarbecue.com for more amazing books!

Happy Reading!