Maniac - Necessary Evils #7 - Ch. 3 (Patreon)

Very loosely edited and unbeta'd. Gentle reminder that while I love feedback in the comments, negativity vs constructive comments really are a total mindfuck. Try to have a little faith in my storytelling since we're on book 7. Please. I know this is angstier than most, but there's a lot between them. Thanks. <3

Thomas

They were ghosts haunting the same house, floating past each other in otherwise empty halls but never communicating, never acknowledging the other existed. Thomas stood in the living room, gazing out the huge window, doing his best to avoid Aiden, who was moving around the kitchen out of sight.

Outside, snow blanketed the ground, but despite the artificial heat pumping through the vents it felt far colder inside. Aiden couldn’t look at him and when he did, there was a barely contained…something that caused a grimace to appear on his face, like Thomas’s mere existence pained him.

He hadn’t uttered a single word since he’d ordered Thomas upstairs the day before and it was untenable. The worst kind of torture. Like when his parents would give him the silent treatment when his grades slipped, or how they’d take his siblings on trips and exclude him as punishment. Aiden had unwittingly found the perfect way to torment Thomas. A dark empath indeed.

It was ironic, really. Thomas rarely felt lonely despite living alone in a house far too big for him, but with Aiden within arm’s reach he’d never felt more isolated. The compulsion to touch him, to hold him, to bury his face in his throat and just inhale him was a physical constant ache inside him. But they were like magnets with the same polarity, repelling each other at every turn.

“Breakfast.”

Thomas snapped his head around, startled by Aiden’s gruff announcement. By the time he went  to say thanks, Aiden was already gone. He should’ve followed him. Maybe this was an olive branch of some kind. A way for them to work together amicably…at least until Aiden learned the truth.

Surely, he must have softened a bit. He’d gone to the trouble of making breakfast. Now was Thomas’s chance. But try as he might, he found himself rooted in place. The back door opened then shut, then Aiden appeared on the other side of the large glass window of the main room.

Thomas watched, riveted, as he crossed the yard, imagined hearing the snow crunching beneath his booted feet as his gaze snagged on the wide strides he made as he walked. Somewhere along the way, Aiden had passed Thomas in both height and muscle mass, turning him into an imposing figure, not only in stature, but in appearance. His hair was too long and his jaw remained covered in a permanent five o’clock shadow.

Aiden pulled something from his pocket and then scraped his hair off his face into a knot, before pulling off his flannel and tying it around his waist, leaving just an eggshell colored thermal that hugged his well-muscled arms and torso. Thomas couldn’t help but take notice.

Aiden snatched an ancient looking ax from a tree that was likely just as old, then grabbed a log, setting it on a wooden stump before bringing the ax down in a perfect arc, splitting the wood in half and tossing it onto the ground.

Thomas watched, eyes glued to Aiden as he broke down log after log. He was just letting off steam. There was already more than enough firewood inside. Thomas always made sure the safe houses stayed stocked.

Aiden was working up a sweat, his breath visible with every grunt. Thomas should have put real clothes on instead of staying in the flannel pajamas and long sleeved shirt he currently wore. There was no way of hiding his very obvious arousal. Not after witnessing that level of exertion on Aiden up close and personal. He’d felt those straining muscles beneath his fingertips, knew the way Aiden’s teeth felt scraping over his skin a moment before he sucked on his neck, his jaw, his collarbones.

He closed his eyes, his fingers flexing as memories overtook him, the taste of his lips, the rough whisper in his ear as he’d begged him not to say no. Just once. Just one night. And Thomas had given in. Had been unable to refuse. Just one time. He’d told himself it might help. Just scratch the itch and get it out of their system. No matter how good Thomas was at lying to others, it never beat the lies he told himself.

Christ.

He forced himself away from the window and into the kitchen. On the counter, sat an omelet and a cup of what was likely now lukewarm coffee. Thomas spared another glance out the window, relieved he didn’t have a view of Aiden from there. He sat on a stool, taking a couple of sips of the mediocre coffee and forcing down half of the omelet with its rapidly congealing cheese.

When he finished what he could, he didn’t move, just sat, staring at nothing, quietly contemplating his options. Maybe he should just call the whole thing off. Maybe he should go home, accept his fate. Surely the blowback couldn’t be worse than this. Whatever punishment they doled out was bound to be quicker than this. When they found he’d broken the code, his children would kill him quickly and efficiently, executioner style.

Or maybe they wouldn't. Maybe they’d make him suffer. But nothing could be worse than this. Less than twenty-four hours with Aiden was agony. It was a Civil War doctor sawing at a soldier’s leg without anesthesia. But the masochistic part of Thomas liked it. Aiden was his most exquisite pain and if they were together too long, Thomas would be infected once again, until his need consumed him and he was feening like some kind of addict.

The sound of the screen door slamming shut dragged him from his thoughts. Aiden stormed past with an armful of logs, carrying it into the living room to the already full container. Thomas sat paralyzed, listening to the sound of wood hitting stone until Aiden returned.

He poured himself a cup of coffee from the near full pot then leaned against the counter, glowering at Thomas until he had no choice but to look away or be consumed by the flames of Aiden’s fury.

“Are you ready to start talking?” Aiden asked, like Thomas was some common criminal in an interrogation room.

He supposed he was. “He forced his gaze upward until their eyes met. “About what?”

Aiden’s jaw clenched until Thomas swore he could hear his teeth grinding. “I’m not playing these games with you. I already have someone looking into your family's deaths—”

That brought Thomas up short, a sudden terror shocking  his nervous system and flooding him with adrenaline until he couldn’t help but say, “You what?”

Aiden’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction. He liked that he’d thrown Thomas. That much was clear. He shrugged, taking another casual sip of his coffee. “I have a detective friend, she’s getting me a list of people involved in the original investigation.”

Thomas felt dizzy. The doctor in him knew it was just his fight or flight instinct kicking in, but it didn’t make it any less uncomfortable. “What? Why? Why would you do that? Why would you involve strangers in family business?”

Aiden gave him an astonished look, like he couldn’t believe Thomas’s nerve. “Because you won’t fucking talk to me. Seems pretty fucking obvious.”

Thomas shook his head. Why couldn’t Aiden understand? “I just asked for a little bit of time to…gather my thoughts. I didn’t say I wouldn’t tell you. You know how dangerous it is to get others involved in this. We can’t trust outside-”

“She’s not an outsider,” Aiden snapped. “Not to me.”

What the fuck did that mean? Was she…Did Aiden have a…girlfriend? Jealousy tore at him like the blades of a lawnmower, until he was certain the tightness in his chest was blood pooling where his heart had been. He fought the urge to grab his chest, even though it felt a little bit like he was having a heart attack.

“Oh… I didn’t realize you were seeing someone,” Thomas managed, voice tight.

Aiden’s mouth fell open, then his face contorted into a look of disgust.

“You’re so fucking unbelievable,” he snapped, knocking his coffee cup into the sink with enough force to cause the handle to crack. “Are you seriously fucking jealous right now? Now? With everything that’s happening?”

Thomas shook his head before Aiden even finished, but he couldn’t stop the strained expression staring back at him in the distorted reflection of the toaster. “It’s not that. I-”

Aiden cut him off. “Right. Of course, it's not that.”

Thomas’s head was spinning. Why was he trying to fight him over this? There was no winning. “I-”

Aiden thrust a finger in his direction. “I have the right to date whoever I want. That’s what you said. Remember? In the library that night? Before the sweat had even dried? You couldn’t wait to explain it away. To shove me out the door.”

“That’s not what I was doing.”

Aiden ignored him. “You said you had no right to keep holding me hostage. That I was…free to be with whoever I wanted. That’s what you said you wanted too. For me to be happy. For me to find someone who matters.”

“It’s not what I wanted. It’s what needed to be done,” Thomas shouted, lurching to his feet, but making no move to close the distance between them. He rubbed his hand over his face. “Fuck. You know that. You have to fucking know that. None of this is what I ever wanted for you. Not me, not us, not this fucked up situation.”

Aiden’s lip curled at Thomas’s words. Fuck. That’s not what he meant. God, he just kept getting it wrong with him. Every fucking time. Every conversation was a goddamn landmine.

“Oh, I know you never wanted us,” Aiden snapped. “You’ve made that abundantly clear over and over again. Except when you can’t fucking take it anymore. Right? Except for when you’re drunk and lonely and tired and there’s nobody around to fill that giant fucking hole inside you. Nobody but me.”

Thomas swallowed the lump of sand in his throat, not sure whether he should tell him that it wasn’t true, that he was wrong, even though he was a hundred percent right. He had no defense. None. And they both knew it. This was the same conversation. Over and over again. Caught in an endless loop like a residual haunting. Two souls destined to just keep reinacting the same tragedy again and again. The worst part was…It didn’t even matter.

None of it mattered.

Aiden’s anger was a vacuum, sucking the air from Thomas’s lungs and swallowing the words desperate to come out. It took every ounce of willpower he contained to not fight back. This was why he tried to keep some distance between them.

But today there was no escape. They were trapped together on this mountain. At least for now. “Aiden…” he managed, trailing off when he realized he had nothing more to say.

Aiden was across the room and in his space before Thomas could even register the movement, looming over him. “What? What? You just keep saying my name…Aiden…Aiden…what? Aiden what? Fucking say it, you fucking coward. What do you want to say? You’re sorry? You wish things could be different? What? For fuck’s sake just fucking say it and put me out of my misery.”

Aiden was close enough that each coffee laced breath puffed against Thomas’s cheek. He opened his mouth and closed it again. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. His hands shook with the effort it took not to reach for him, to pull him in, to give in to the longing that was killing him.

He was right there. Right fucking there. Everything he’d ever wanted and the one thing he could never have and it was so goddamn sad. No, it was infuriating…maddening. Thomas had spent a lifetime learning how to deny himself. To give himself just enough, but never everything. It was about self-control. Willpower. Mind over matter.

“Don’t do this,” he whispered, half praying he would, that he’d have the courage Thomas never did.

Aiden moved until their bodies were pressed against each other, his lips so close that all Thomas had to do was turn his head just the tiniest bit and they’d be touching Aiden’s.

“Do what?” Aiden said, his voice raw. “Tell the truth? Yeah, that would be fucking tragic wouldn’t it.”

Thomas took a deep breath, Aiden’s scent flooding his nostrils, imploding that tiny last remnant of self control he had left. He couldn’t stop himself. He couldn’t. It was just the barest movement, hardly noticeable if it didn’t bring their lips together in a kiss that did nothing to quell the fucking desperation raging through him.

Thomas regretted the decision the moment they connected, tried to course correct, but it was too late. Aiden’s arms were around him, dragging him tightly against him, smashing their mouths together in a brutal kiss designed to punish.

Thomas should have resisted, should have pulled away, but when Aiden’s tongue prodded against his lips, he yielded, god fucking help him, he yielded. Aiden grunted his approval, walking Thomas backwards until he met the counter, his hands clenching Thomas’s ass as he plundered his mouth mercilessly.

Thomas’s head was swimming with nothing but Aiden. His taste, his scent, the feel of his roaming hands and his wide legged stance that put them eye to eye, made it so easy to just keep letting their mouths slide against each other again and again.

Thomas lifted his hands to push him away, but instead he gripped his shirt, stepping in between Aiden’s thighs until their hips were flush together and Thomas could feel his hard length pressing against the zipper of his jeans. Fuck.

Thomas groaned, unable to stop himself from grinding against him, letting him feel he wasn’t the only one turned on.

Aiden made a sound that was close to a snarl, then shoved away from Thomas so fast he felt dizzy. “Un-fucking-believable.”

Thomas stood blinking, his brain and body fighting to catch up with each other. “I’m sor-”

Aiden cocked his head, livid. “Fucking say I’m sorry. I fucking dare you. I will punch you in the face. I swear to God. Try me.”

Thomas snapped his mouth shut, giving a stilted nod, before finally saying, “Yeah. Okay.”

Aiden paced the kitchen, pulling the elastic from his hair only to pull the top half back up and secure it in a knot on the top of his head once more, like some kind of nervous tic. “You need to tell me what happened with your family before I fucking learn it from someone else. I’m tired of the secrets and the lies.”

Thomas shook his head, pulse jack-hammering against his throat once more. “You said you would give me time.”

Aiden stopped to glare at him. “Yeah, well I guess that makes us both liars,” he said before beginning to pace once more.

“Aiden…”

“I’m starting to hate the sound of my own fucking name, Thomas,” he said, spitting his full name at him like a curse.

Thomas was trapped. For the first time in as long as he could remember, he didn’t know how to fix this. He didn’t have a plan. He was just winging it. He didn’t wing things. That’s not who he was. He was a general. He was strategic. Precise. Calculating. Formulate a strategy. Send his soldiers to execute the plan. Victory. Every time.

But he was out of his element with Aiden. Especially this Aiden. So different from the boy he’d met all those years ago. He was the monster Thomas created. He supposed they all were, but it was doubly true for Aiden. Thomas had used him as a crutch for far too long. Had leaned on him until he had warped him into the man before him.

“I am not trying to piss you off,” Thomas started, trying to figure out how this went so far off the rails so quickly. “I want to tell you.”

“Liar.”

Thomas shook his head helplessly. “Okay, fine. I want to want to tell you.”

Aiden’s laugh was bitter, his face twisted into a look of disbelief. “Save your insane double-speak for your children. That shit doesn’t work on me.”

Thomas fought the urge to scream or punch something. He couldn’t remember a time in his life he’d felt this impotent. At least not as an adult. Not since he’d freed himself from the prison of his family. He shook the thought away.

“Can you just put yourself in my shoes for five minutes,” Thomas pleaded.

Aiden was in his face once more. “Which shoes? Be specific, Tommy. We’re standing in a really big fucking closet. Thomas Mulvaney, altruistic billionaire? Thomas Mulvaney, vigilante wrangler? Thomas Mulvaney, self-centered narcissist? Thomas Mulvaney…possible murderer?”

Thomas Mulvaney, the man who loves you.

Tommy. Nobody in the world had ever gotten away with calling him that. It started as a joke, something that was just for Aiden. But it had blossomed into something more. Until it wasn’t. Jesus. Maybe he was a fucking narcissist. Because even with their relationship in tatters, he heart still soared hearing Tommy fall from Aiden’s lips. Because no matter how unfair it was to ask Aiden to wait for him to open up about his past, he still didn’t know how to tell him the truth. He’d guarded this secret for decades. He’d shoved it down and fed it a steady diet of lies and self-loathing and now it was so big inside him he was choking on it.

But Aiden deserved to know. They all did. They deserved to know what kind of man he really was. But he just couldn’t do it. Aiden was right. He was a coward. The irony was that his sons would all take it with a grain of salt. They’d explain it away, negate his guilt, but the others…Noah especially…They wouldn’t be so easily swayed. And his relationship with Noah was already fragile. Almost as fragile as his relationship with Aiden.

No,  not fragile. This thing between him and Aiden… Brittle. Years of hot and cold had left what was between them rigid and unbending, straining under the weight of a lifetime of regret.

Aiden wouldn’t offer up platitudes when he learned the truth. If anything, he’d use it as further proof that Thomas was exactly the person Aiden made him out to be and then he’d put an end to Thomas once and for all.

Thomas closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Okay. Fine. I’ll tell you. But for you to understand the whole thing, you have to know how it started… who I was…who my family was…”

“You’re just stalling,” Aiden snapped.

“Yes. I am. But that doesn’t make what I’m saying any less true. Telling you the whole thing in one sitting would take days. What happened to my family didn’t happen in a vacuum. There were circumstances, outside influences. Mistakes were made. By me and lots of others.”

Thomas forced himself to maintain eye contact with Aiden as he studied him. He knew it was a big ask. But it was no bigger than the things he’d been asking of Aiden since they’d first become trapped in this constant push and pull.

“Fine. But you’re not dragging this out for weeks. You’ve got the next seventy-two hours to get it all out,” he said. Thomas grimaced, but before he could agree, Aiden added, “And you can’t impede the investigation. If something comes up, then you need to fucking answer honestly. And I’m not calling off Lola. She’s going to keep digging. Discreetly,” he added. “Someone is threatening your family.”

“Our family,” Thomas said without thought.

“Do you agree or not?” Aiden asked, ignoring Thomas’s words.

Thomas’s eyes burned and he felt tired in his bones. It was a weariness that came from somewhere deep within. He sagged against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest and taking a deep breath. “Yeah. I agree.”

Aiden stalked back to the coffee pot, turning over two new mugs and filling them to the brim before carrying them to the table. He set the mugs down, then sat. The chair diagonal to him shot out as he kicked it with his booted foot. “Good. Let’s get started.”

Thomas stared at the chair for a long minute, mind racing. “Can I shower first?”

“No.”

Thomas closed his eyes for a long moment, then nodded. “Fine. Let’s do this.”