Primal (Wrong Side of the Tracks 2) - Page 15

He walked back into the house and put his hands on his hips. “Fine. I can bring them here, but your wife can’t come.”

Dane’s mouth fell open, and he made a strange noise at the back of his throat. “No… I don’t—I don’t have a wife. It’s just that… they’re my siblings, but I am like a parent to them, you see. They need money for food, and school, and clothes.” He gasped, shiny with sweat as if he’d just run across the junkyard without stopping. “I just need to go back.”

Jag huffed with a mix of relief and frustration. “Why did you lie to me? They are your father’s responsibility, not yours. I had seven brothers myself, and it was difficult to leave them behind, but a man needs to make his own way in life.” Had his circumstances been different, perhaps he’d still be living in his father’s commune, but the hard choice of leaving everyone he knew behind had been a necessity.

Dane swallowed, lowering his head. For several moments, he remained still as a statue, but when Jag was about to lose his patience, the smooth voice resonated down his nape.

“You’re right. It’s just… so hard,” Dane said and met Jag’s gaze with his beautiful, contrasting eyes.

Jag took that as a good sign, and scooted down, grabbing Dane’s hand. While very soft, his hands were so delightfully big. He could just see himself entwining their fingers and holding Dane down as they mated. He stroked the blond side of Dane’s head, playing with the bright hair. “I know, but I will be there for you along the way.” That was so much more help than Jag had ever gotten in the three months of his solitary journey through the wilderness. And who knows where he’d be now if Frank hadn’t saved his life? Probably dead.

Dane squeezed his hand, and his warm touch made Jag’s heart skip a beat. “Let’s start with the shower, but you do need to unchain me for that.”

Chapter 4 – Dane

They were in a junkyard.

A massive fucking junkyard with tall hills of scrap and rubber piled on each side of the ravine-like space Jag had picked for his home. The sun was high, casting a shadow on the shack made up of what looked like several layers of plywood covered with a tarp. It was impossible to tell how far away from other people they were.

But since Dane had no concept of the size of this place, and the horizon wasn’t just blocked by trash but also blurred by his eye defect, playing up whatever qualities Jag wanted to see in him remained his only option. It had worked for him so far. Jag had even removed the collar once Dane had pointed out it would have been a shame to damage such a fine piece of handiwork with water and soap. He must have believed he’d managed to charm Dane.

Jag was… a strange creature, and while most people would have called him absolutely-fucking-insane, at least he was taking care of Dane when someone else had left him to die. And unless he was trying to fatten Dane up for slaughter with that buffet of breakfast foods, he wasn’t a cannibal. Why this crazed hermit would choose him out of all people to pursue as a partner, was a question Dane was still to answer.

And while Dane’s terror had been rising since he’d woken up, a nasty part of him, the one he hid from others, told him to at least give in and stare at the pronounced abs of this muscular caveman. Jag barely had any fat over trim muscle packed under skin, and while his body was smaller than Dane’s bear-like form, he’d already proven himself strong and capable. Dane didn’t have a chance against him in a fair fight, especially not so soon after being brutally beaten, and if he was to get away, the trick was to wait for the right opportunity.

“So… how did you find me last night?” Dane asked as Jag led him to the other side of the junk ravine, where several plastic barrels were mounted on a platform resting on the roofs of two disused trucks.

Jag guided Dane under a set of plastic pipes mounted under the rig, and while its purpose might not have been obvious from afar, the darker shade of the ground under Dane’s feet and the rain showerhead hanging right above him made Jag’s intentions obvious.

Jag shrugged. “You were wrapped in a carpet. I thought you were dead, but we both got lucky.”

Dane couldn’t see his captor’s mouth, but the green-gold eyes sparkled at him. As if none of this was kidnapping and assault. Though Dane supposed Jag had saved his life. Better a new crazy evil than the one you knew and which had tried to murder you.

Tags: K.A. Merikan Wrong Side of the Tracks M-M Romance
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