"That was good, yeah?" Sam asked. His voice was raspy and a bit strained. "You were okay with that, right?"

Taylor nodded and held onto Sam just a little tighter. He wanted to spill his guts and tell Sam how he'd visited the pits of hell and hadn't come away unscathed. How he was terrified to open up and trust again or give the man a damn good explanation of why he kept space between them.

But no words left his lips. The soul-eating secrets stayed locked away in Taylor's heart as he held onto Sam like a lifeline. Only Cameron knew what ate away at Taylor and not even his best friend knew the whole truth.

A hole burned inside Taylor and he wanted desperately to give Sam half a chance, to open up and try to love again. But the memories still haunted him. Even after all this time, he still woke in a cold sweat each night, nightmares trying to drag him back to his past.

Sam patted Taylor's back and then released him. "I think I'll walk back home." His smile was sweet but his eyes said he knew there was something wrong with Taylor, something broken.

"That's an awful long walk." Taylor smashed, shoved, and kicked the memories back down into that deep recess he kept them locked inside and gave Sam a smile. "We can take things real slow."

His statement had a double meaning, and Sam seemed to understand that.

"As slow as you need." Sam grabbed the reins of his horse that was nibbling on grass nearby. "Stay there while I mount. I don't want to kick the intelligence right out of you."

Taylor retrieved his horse and mounted. They rode slowly back to the house. He smiled. "You're starting to get the hang of it."

Sam flashed him a grin. "I'll master this yet or crack my skull trying."

They made it back to the house without either killing the other. Rowdy took the horses as Sam and Taylor walked inside. It was getting late and Taylor wondered if he should leave.

Stripper walked into the kitchen and then froze. He glanced from Sam to Taylor. He was standing there nude, wearing only a pair of beat-up boots. "I thought you guys would be gone longer." He spun on his heel and hurried from the kitchen.

Taylor could only stare at the empty doorway. "That was...weird." He blinked and looked over at Sam who was standing there with his lips thinned. "The dude has the biggest balls I've ever seen."

Sam shook his head as he grabbed a pitcher of tea from the fridge and poured two glassfuls. "He's a naturalist. Trust me, we've been trying to duct tape underwear on him, but the slick little bastard is too fast."

A terrifying thought came to Taylor. "All of you men don't...you know."

Sam choked on the glass of tea he'd been drinking. The liquid shot out of Sam's nose and to the floor. "God no! They're like my brothers. I'd kick Stripper's ass if he tried to come anywhere near me with his grapefruits."

Taylor's shoulders sagged with relief.

"What about you and your roommate?" Sam asked, eyeing Taylor as he cleaned up the sprayed tea.

"Same here," Taylor answered as he picked up his glass and took a sip. "Like brothers."

T-Rex walked into the kitchen and glanced between the two. "Can we talk?" he asked Sam.

"About what?" Sam tossed the paper towels into the trash can.

"Privately."

Taylor took a seat at the island as Sam excused himself and left the kitchen. He began to think that Sam had forgotten about him until the man came back, a deep scowl on his face.

"What's wrong?" Taylor asked.

Sam shoved the pitcher of tea back in the fridge and set his glass in the sink. When he turned, he leaned against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest. "An assignment. Emergency. I have to leave for about a week."

"Oh." Taylor was relieved it wasn't anything major. "Duty calls."

Sam pushed away from the counter and moved until he was standing next to Taylor. Their bodies nearly touched as Sam slid his fingers across the hair over Taylor's ear. "All of us are leaving except Legend. If you need anything, anything at all, let Legend know. He'll help you out while I'm gone."

Taylor snorted and tried his best to set Sam's mind at ease. "I think I can manage a week without you. It'll give my head time to heal."

"I'm serious," Sam said. "I'll leave you my cell phone number just in case you need to talk. If I don't answer, I will call you back."

What the fuck? Why was Sam acting as if they were a steady couple? Taylor shifted uncomfortably. He didn't think they knew each other well enough for Sam to be worried like this.

Sam winked and said, "Or you can call me and we can talk sports."

Just like that the tension drained from Taylor and they were both laughing. Taylor was going to try and use the time to work on himself, to work on his issues so that when Sam returned, maybe, just maybe, they could work on having a real relationship.

Chapter Five.

It had been two days since Sam left and Taylor had to admit that he missed the guy. He'd been tempted over a dozen times to call just to hear Sam's voice but had managed to stop himself at the last minute. Taylor didn't want to seem like a loser, someone so clingy that he couldn't cope without Sam's smile or his wonderful scent for a freaking week.

Taylor popped his trunk and shoved his laundry basket in before slamming it closed. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and neck as the hot summer sun beat down on him. The parking lot behind his apartment building didn't have any shade. Taylor was standing on the concrete being roasted.

He prayed for a soft breeze but got nothing. The air was humid and stagnant and didn't give him any relief. One of his neighbors walked out of the back of the building and headed toward his car. The day was normal, life was moving on, and Taylor couldn't stop wanting to hear Sam's voice.

Not even with Todd had Taylor yearned so much to hear a man's voice. Sam was different and Taylor knew it. He could feel it inside of him like a flower blossom opening to the sun's rays. Taylor wanted to bask in its glow, roll around in that scent. Damn, did he have it bad. He smiled to himself.

After driving the few blocks over, Taylor hauled his laundry inside the Laundromat and shoved his dirty clothes into a washer. He tossed the basket on top of the washer and then walked back outside. The door to the Laundromat was propped open by a large rock. There was no air conditioning inside to cool him off. So he stood outside and watched as life continued to go on in front of his eyes.

Where was Sam? What was the guy doing? Was he thinking about Taylor as much as Taylor was thinking about him? He was all twisted up inside and felt as if his gut was one tight knot. He was like a junkie and Sam was his drug of choice.

How had everything changed so quickly? Taylor had been so busy running that he hadn't realized that he'd run right into Sam. The epiphany blindsided him as Taylor stood idly on the sidewalk.

Cars drove by. People passed. The mailman hummed as he ducked into the building next to the Laundromat with his large delivery bag slung over his shoulder. So fucking normal...and yet, not.

Life had been a crazy, chaotic, and upside-down universe to him since meeting Todd. Even during the year after running from the man, Taylor's life had been in shambles-a total wreck. In the beginning, he drank a lot to escape the memories. Not even Cameron had been able to save him.

But slowly, Taylor had come back to the land of the living. He was no longer Todd's whipping boy. He no longer had to endure the humiliation of being strung up in a BDSM club as onlookers greedily panted and lusted after what Todd had been doing to him.

Taylor no longer felt like dying. He wasn't being forced into a life that no man should endure just so some twisted, poor excuse for a human could get his rocks off.

But Todd hadn't been human, had he? That had been the icing on the cake. When Taylor found out that Todd was a bear shifter, the man had started using his ability to shift to terrorize Taylor into doing what the man wanted. He had used his claws and teeth as a tactical maneuver to keep Taylor terrified, to stop him from fleeing.

If it hadn't been for Cameron, Taylor might be dead by now. Not might. Would be. Todd's tenuous grip on his sanity and self-control had become weaker and weaker, his cruelty growing deeper. He'd known before he'd fled that Todd was pushing things to the point where Taylor would eventually die at his hands.

Even under the heat of the summer sun, Taylor felt cold. He shivered and crossed his arms over his chest. Todd had said that they were mates, but Taylor knew that for the lie that it was. If they were meant to be together, Taylor would've felt some sort of connection. Todd wouldn't have been a sadistic son of a bitch.

But once Todd had shown his true colors, nothing between them had fit. It was like trying to put a round peg into a square hole. No matter how much Todd tried to force it, they just would not go together.

And now here Taylor stood, in a new town, surrounded by new faces, new everything, as he tried to grapple with his growing feelings toward Sam.

His cell phone rang. Taylor fished it out of his pocket to see Sam's number displayed. His fingers shook as he answered and pressed the phone to his ear. "Hey." His voice was barely audible as he bit his lower lip and gazed out over Main Street.

"Hey to you, my little goth angel," Sam said with amusement in his voice. The coldness of Taylor's inner turbulence began to fade. The sun felt warmer on his skin as a smile slid into place.

"You did not just call me that." Taylor chuckled. Butterflies were spreading their wings in his stomach and his heart began to beat a little faster. He ducked his head and toed his foot into a crack in the concrete. "Is everything going okay?"

"So-so. I finally caught a break and thought I'd call this cute little goth I spotted in the grocery store. But I think he's too good for me. Maybe you could talk to him, hmmm? Tell him what a great guy I am and that my intentions are purely honorable?"

Taylor's face heated and not because of the sun. He wasn't even sure how to respond. Sam was like a cool, welcoming breeze over his hot, itchy skin. The man stole his breath and left Taylor dizzy every single time. "Honorable?"

Sam chuckled. "Okay, you got me there. How about pleasurable? Purely pleasurable, yeah, that sounds about right."

Taylor's throat tightened as he closed his eyes tightly. He was the one that wasn't good enough for Sam. The man was pure, honest, and an all-around good guy. He was the type of person someone brought home to meet the parents. Taylor was a walking disaster.

"You there, Taylor? If I'm going too fast-"

"No," Taylor answered around the lump in his throat. "You're good. Swear."

He felt like a frog trying to win a prince. But Sam's smooth, deep baritone voice had been exactly what Taylor needed at that moment. "I was just thinking."

"Hmm, about what, our ride together? I swear I didn't kick you on purpose. As a matter of fact, I beat the shit out of my foot for laying a hand on you."

So corny, yet so damn charming. But Taylor would settle for corny any day of the week.

"Don't do that," Taylor teased. "Then I'll have to call you limpy."

Sam's voice had gone deep. "Trust me. There's nothing limp about me."

Taylor snapped his head around as if the passersby could hear what Sam was saying. His blush had spiked into a volcanic heat as he quickly stepped back into the Laundromat. He moved behind a washer as if he was about to have a top-secret conversation with Sam.

"I'm just teasing you," Sam said, but Taylor knew the man had been serious. "How is your day going?"

"So-so." Taylor glanced at his washing machine to see his clothes tumbling around in the sudsy water. It whirled and sputtered as the basket continued to churn. "Getting some laundry done."

"Sounds like you're having a lot more fun than I am." Sam spoke low and Taylor knew the guy was talking to somebody that was close by. The voices were a hushed murmur before Sam sighed. "I gotta go."

Taylor didn't want their conversation to end. His fingers curled tightly around his phone as he nodded and then realized Sam couldn't see his head movement. "Okay."

"Why don't you call me tonight? I can fall asleep to the sound of your voice."

A lone tear streaked down Taylor's face as his throat burned. He crossed his free arm over his chest, shoving his fist into his armpit. His bottom lip quivered as he said, "I'll do that."

"Take care of yourself, my little goth angel. I'll be back to pester you before you know it."

Even though Sam had hung up, Taylor kept the phone pressed to his ear. His body jerked once as his tears started falling. He wasn't sure what he had done to deserve someone like Sam. But Taylor was gonna do whatever the hell he had to in order to keep Sam.

Because Taylor was a goddamn clusterfuck of a mess and Sam was the only uncluttered part of his life.

With his laundry now dry, Taylor folded the clothes and stacked them in his laundry basket, smiling to himself at the phone call he'd had with Sam. Sam putting claims on him should have scared Taylor, but oddly enough, he was starting to look forward to the man's return.

He tucked the box of dryer sheets and the laundry detergent in his basket and took it out to his car, storing it in his trunk. This was turning out to be a great day.

When his cell phone rang again, Taylor pulled it free and answered, smiling and hoping to hear Sam's voice once more. "Hey, handsome."

Taylor was determined to bring his walls down. It might be one small step at a time, but he was going to try.

"And just who did you think was calling you?"

Taylor stumbled against his car, pressing his hand into the trunk as his world began to spin and the sunny day turned as dark as midnight. His heart was suddenly a sledgehammer behind his ribs, trying to slam its way out. "Hhow did you get this number?"

He could no longer feel the air going into his lungs. Just from that one question, Taylor was coming apart at the seams, breaking into a thousand pieces.

"It was easy enough. I told your stepmother that I was an old friend from high school trying to look you up." There was an icy layer of control to Todd's voice.

Taylor's stepmother was a coldhearted bitch. She'd married Taylor's father and had made Taylor's life a living hell after that. He'd gladly run off to Uncle Wyatt's ranch every summer just to escape her. But when his uncle had caught him fooling around with the foreman the summer Taylor had turned seventeen, all hell had broken loose. His uncle had disowned him. Taylor's father had as well.

But his stepmother, Patty, had talked Taylor's father into not kicking him out. She took him to counseling and thought a combination of therapy and church would "cure" him. She never once let him forget what a perverted sinner he was.

And then he'd met Todd. The guy had swept Taylor off his feet and had been there at a time in Taylor's life when he needed a lifeline. Cameron had begged Taylor not to date Todd. His best friend swore Todd was the devil incarnate. But it had been too late. Todd had isolated Taylor from his family and the life he'd known. He'd dragged Taylor into the BDSM world, kicking and screaming. And when Taylor became too out of control, Todd drugged him to make him more compliant, more submissive.

The last time they'd been together, Todd had beaten Taylor so badly that he nearly died. The man had been enraged because Taylor had called Cameron just to talk, just to feel as if he weren't so alone in the world. Cameron had come to the apartment after Todd had gone out with his friends. He had pulled Taylor off the St. Andrew's Cross he'd been left tied to, put some clothes on Taylor, and the two had fled, never looking back.

And those memories were mild compared to some of the things Todd had done to Taylor, had made Taylor do.

Strangling fear closed around Taylor's heart and began to gnaw away at his stomach. Tears rose perilously close to the surface as Taylor snapped his head around, trying to see if Todd was close by.

"Did you think you could get away from me, boy? I have a signed contract that says I own you."

Taylor squatted behind his car as he began to rock in a quick rhythm, one arm pressed tightly over his stomach. Cold emptiness pervaded his mind and it started to shut down section by section. Even through the phone, Taylor could feel the man's twisted intentions like black oil coating his skin. "It isn't legal."

Todd's laughter was bitter. "Do you think that's going to stop me from taking back what's mine? When I get you home, you are going to feel the wrath of my punishment. You'll be lucky if I let you live."

Taylor shoved a fist into his mouth to bite back the cry. The memories flooded him and the humiliation and pain combined to make a toxic mixture. He hung up, afraid of what else Todd might say, what else the man might threaten him with. With a ragged sob, he dropped his face into his hands and felt the agony throb endlessly beneath the surface.

A passersby stopped and asked, "Are you all right?"

Stumbling to his feet, Taylor used his car to hold him upright until he slipped into the driver's seat. He ignored the onlookers as he tore away from the curb. He barely registered the stop signs and lights. It was a miracle he didn't get into a wreck.

His tire jumped the curb as Taylor came to a stop in front of the liquor store. He needed to get drunk, to numb the pain, the memories, and the all-consuming fear. He grabbed a fifth of the first thing he spotted, paid, and climbed back into his car.