Vision Quest by A.F. Henley; Kelly Wyre Read Free Book Online

wasn't until one went digging that one found the filth.
    The door to the restroom opened and Arik flinched. He pulled back against the wall and swallowed a whine, even as criticism rose inside his chest to hiss at his reaction.
    Recollection mocked him. Memory tried to step in and set up camp. It was as if cigarette-smoking, cold-eyed generals began peeking from around corners, leering. "All right, boys," imagination offered. "Maybe we can finally get this show on the road again. Gentlemen, arm yourselves."
    "Arik?" Blaze's voice was low and warm, and cut through the veil of Arik's thoughts like they were no heavier than gauze. He didn't reply, though, and his clenched fist tightened that much further on itself.
    Blaze's footsteps were light and slow but he seemed to know exactly where to stop and turn. Dark, oh-so-very-comfy-looking running shoes—long but narrow, aged, but not worn—peeked at Arik from under the divider. "Are you all right? Are you ill?"
    Ill ... damn straight he was ill ... he was dying ... he was ... angry. Angry. Yes, he was fucking angry. Furious, actually. Righteously, violently, overwhelmingly rabid. He reached for the door, snapped the lock with a vicious click and pulled it open. The echo of metal slapping metal resounded over surfaces, and Arik stepped forward, one hand already pointing. "That had nothing to do with anything. That was nothing."
    An emotion danced through Blaze's eyes, but whether it was confusion, annoyance, or concern, Arik couldn't say. It was checked quickly and easily, and for some reason, that just fuelled Arik's rage more.
    "You did this," Arik narrowed his eyes and stepped closer. "You and your damn witch blood did something."
    It was an unreasonable argument; Arik knew it was. Blaze had been nowhere near him when the nudges had started. That thought didn't help shut down his mouth in the least.
    "Or was it some fucking crap that you spit in my mouth when we kissed? Dropped in my coffee, maybe? What's your game, Blaze? What the fuck are you doing?"
    Blaze's jaw tightened. He nodded, though it appeared more to himself than anything else. "Look, Arik, I hear what you're saying. I see what you're feeling. And I know and understand where you are. But let's try and take it easy on the bashing—"
    "Fuck you." The words popped out of Arik's mouth before he could stop them.
    "Fuck ..." Blaze tilted his head. "Me? I doubt that will resolve anything."
    Reason snapped in Arik's head. He lunged. "Do you think this is a game—"
    Even as his father's words shot off Arik's tongue, even as his clawed fingers sought out the much smaller man in front of him, the horizon shifted, body movement followed a gentle, yet insistent shove, and Arik found himself finishing the sentence to the soap-slicked, water-spattered laminate of the countertop. His cheekbone took the brunt of the fall, his teeth clacked together with a snap that made him grateful his tongue hadn't wandered between them, but it was more surprise than pain that brought the, "Ow."
    Feisty for a little guy—Blaze had caught Arik completely unprepared. So much for those tae kwon do lessons.
    Arik flexed against the hold Blaze had on his arm; the arm twisted just so across Arik's back. If he stayed still, Arik was fine. If he tried to move either self or limb, that was a totally different story, however.
    "Two things," Blaze said. "I will reiterate again that I understand. I feel for you, Arik, I really do. But you will not ..." A small tug sent warning streaks of pain up Arik's arm and into his shoulders. "You will not attack me. You want to pick me up and throw me on a bed, I am cool with that. Hell, ninety-eight times out of a hundred I'll like it. You want to hold my hands over my head while we're having sex, and play the part of Mister Tough Guy, that's awesome. I like a little rough play as much as the next guy. But the moment you come after me with actual intent, the way you did just now, I will break you. I don't care what