"We'll need you to come and give statements," one of the policemen said.

"After the hospital." Haris stepped closer to Tyler.

"I'm okay," Tyler muttered.

"No, you're not. Not yet." Haris was desperate to hold him and he didn't even dare touch him. He lifted his coat from the floor and carefully put it over Tyler's shoulders.

"I would have lived in peace," Rashid whispered. "Your brother made me believe... Ah, too late but I am sorry."

"I need air," Tyler gasped.

Haris followed him up the stairs and out into the street. He couldn't believe how much it made his heart ache knowing Tyler was hurt-and because of him. Why hadn't Tyler phoned him? More police cars arrived and a crowd started to gather. Rashid and two officers appeared at their sides and Rashid murmured, "Peace be with you, brother."

Rashid was so fast, Haris didn't realize what was happening until it was too late. He wrenched free of the man holding him and ran straight out into the busy road. There was a screech of brakes, a sickening thud and Rashid was tossed into the air. He landed on top of another car and slithered to the ground.

"Oh s.h.i.t," one of the cops muttered and pandemonium followed as people screamed and traffic screeched to a halt.

The officer who'd been holding Rashid dashed into the road, other policemen following.

Tyler turned away with a look of horror on his face. "How did he think he was going to escape?"

"I don't think he did," Haris said. "He's had a wasted, unhappy life and preferred death over re-imprisonment."

There was frantic activity in the middle of the road. Paramedics raced to help but when a policeman walked back toward them, his face pale, it was clear what he was going to say.

"He's dead. We're going to need statements from all witnesses."

"Can it wait?" Haris asked. "Tyler should go to the hospital."

The policeman nodded. "I need your names and addresses."

"I'll stay with the police," Stan said.

"My things," Tyler muttered.

"What things?" Haris asked.

"My guitar and coat and bag must be in his car. A black Peugeot. He parked close by but I don't know where. I was too out of it."

The policeman nodded. "We'll find it."

Stan sidled closer to Haris. "Don't mention the cell phone tracing. Say you were just searching everywhere you could think of. Don't mention your link with Rashid. I'll call you tonight and tell you what I said."

"Oh f.u.c.k," Tyler mumbled and continued to stare at the ground.

Haris reached for his hand and Tyler pulled away. Still p.i.s.sed with me then. He didn't blame him.

"What happen?" someone said.

When he saw Lu, Haris bristled. He didn't want that rigger anywhere near Tyler.

Tyler took a shaky breath. "The man that tried to strangle you got hit by a car. He's...dead."

"Save me trouble." Lu put his mouth to Tyler's ear and Haris moved closer to hear what he said.

"You come Sat.u.r.day," Lu whispered. "That Prescott's price for my help."

"My back," Tyler muttered.

"Some guys like damaged goods."

Haris reached for Lu and Tyler caught his hand. It was the first time they'd touched all night.

"No," Tyler whispered.

"No to me or to him?" Lu said with a smile and went back into the club.

Tyler began to shake and when Haris spotted one of the paramedics returning to an ambulance, he beckoned him over.

"What's wrong with him?" the man asked.

"I'm okay," Tyler muttered.

Haris gritted his teeth. "No he's not. He's in shock. He's been...a.s.saulted."

"What's your name?"

"He's Tyler. I'm Haris."

"Let him speak, sir. How old are you, Tyler?"

"Twenty-one."

Haris swallowed hard. He ought to keep reminding himself how young Tyler was. He ought to have considered that more carefully before he pulled him into his life with that b.l.o.o.d.y contract.

"Come and sit in the ambulance and let's have a look at you." The gray-haired paramedic held out his arm to keep the way clear.

Tyler walked with Haris at his side.

"Are you a friend of his?" the paramedic asked Haris.

"Yes."

The guy turned to Tyler. "You want him with you?"

Haris thought his heart was about to stop.

"Up to him," Tyler muttered.

The three of them climbed into the back of the ambulance and the paramedic pulled the doors closed.

"Can you show me?"

Tyler peeled off the coat and Haris drew in a breath when he saw the dark streaks of blood on his shirt. Tyler unfastened the b.u.t.tons and winced as he drew the material off his shoulders. He stared straight ahead, refusing eye contact with Haris.

"Ah. You need cleaning up, and maybe a teta.n.u.s shot. Sit down and I'll be back in a minute. I have to take a blanket to my colleague."

Tyler eased the shirt back on and sat with his shoulders slumped. Haris sat opposite. He wondered if he dare reach for his hand but if Tyler pulled away, he thought he might fall to pieces.

"How did you know I was in the club?" Tyler asked. "Got a tracking device on me?"

Haris shook his head. "No. Stan traced your mobile phone."

"Oh yeah. Stan. I've remembered where I saw him. He followed me. You didn't trust me. I don't think you've ever trusted me."

The pain in Tyler's eyes. .h.i.t Haris like a punch in the gut.

"It wasn't that. I was worried about you, about your safety."

Tyler gave a short laugh. "So you had me investigated and tailed?"

"I'm sorry about the photographs, the information about you," Haris said.

"Sorry I found out?"

Haris swallowed hard. "By the time Stan gave the envelope to me, you'd already told me about your family."

"But not the...rest of it?"

Haris hesitated. "He gave me that later."

Tyler clenched his fists. "When I spoke to that lawyer, you already knew everything. You didn't react right. I thought you'd be furious and you were too calm. But then you're already paying me to be in your bed. Why should you be surprised that I'm a tart?"

"Don't-"

"Had you downloaded the movies? Jerked off to them? Thought you'd like a taste of the real thing?" Tyler shook with fury. "How can I believe anything you've ever said? Did you really see me for the first time at the concert? Or was it on your laptop? I've never watched the films. I somehow don't think they'd turn me on. You think it was easy for me? You think I didn't worry that one day what I'd done would destroy me? That sort of shame sinks deep into your bones and it never goes away."

"Tyler-"

"Shut up. I'm talking. I can't escape my past. It's there for anyone to dig up. I didn't even have the d.a.m.n sense to lie about my name back then." He gave a short laugh. "Well, it was good while it lasted. I'll pay you back what you put into my bank account."

"No," Haris snapped. "I don't want it." He softened his tone. "I only want you."

Tyler took a deep breath.

Haris held out his hand and Tyler ignored it.

"Please come home," Haris whispered.

"What did you think when you knew what I'd done?"

"I was sad."

Tyler stared at his outstretched hand. "Not disgusted?"

"No. I've no right to judge you. No one has. You did what you felt you had to."

"I liked it sometimes," Tyler snapped.

Something dark and unpleasant stirred in Haris's gut. "I'm glad you did, otherwise it might have broken you. Come home."

When Tyler still didn't take his hand, he let it fall.

"Why didn't you call me when Rashid threatened you?" Haris whispered.

"My finger slipped on the phone."

"Liar."

Tyler sighed. "I didn't want Rashid to hurt you. I thought you'd come blundering in and get killed. He'd have whipped me whoever I called, so I pressed the name below yours, Henry, that's Prescott. I figured he might come or send someone and they wouldn't be happy if Rashid was going to mess me up. Lu must have already been at the club."

"And Rashid tried to kill him."

"Lu said I was his and he showed Rashid how to use a whip without cutting. But I think, in his own warped way, Lu tried to control the situation. He hadn't expected Rashid to try and strangle him. If you hadn't come...s.h.i.t."

Tyler wedged his hands between his knees and lowered his head. The paramedic came back to tell them to fasten themselves in and they spent the journey to the hospital in silence.

What can I say? How can I win him back?

Haris expected Tyler to tell him he couldn't come with him into the triage room but he didn't and that gave him hope. Tyler stripped off his shirt and lay face down on the examination table. Bile surged into his throat when he saw the state of his back under the harsh lights. The whip marks extended below the waist of his pants. His beautiful back. Oh f.u.c.k.

"Is it bad?" Tyler muttered. "Because it b.l.o.o.d.y hurts. I don't know how you stood it."

"Stop whining. There's only a couple of scratches," Haris said.

When Tyler's lips twitched in a smile, Haris allowed himself another glimmer of hope.

A doctor strode in, frowned when he saw Tyler's back and then glanced between the pair of them. "Go too far?"

"Not him," Tyler said quickly. "It was a crazy guy with a whip. And he's dead."

The doctor's eyes widened in alarm.

Haris sucked in his cheeks. "He got knocked down by a car. The police are investigating. They'll need photographs of Tyler."

"No," Tyler said. "No more photographs. I'm sick of them. And what's the point? What can they do to a dead guy?"

When Haris watched Tyler grit his teeth as a nurse treated the wounds, he thought that it was a good thing Rashid was already dead.