Burning Bright by A. Catherine Noon

shockingly unfriendly sound. “Sure you are. But stay the fuck away from this one. He’s mine, and Neal’s. You pull any shit, and I’ll put you down. ¿ Entiende? ”
    “He broke my fucking nose, man,” Felipe shouted, throwing an arm out toward Sasha.
    “Pinch it,” Steve advised in a cold voice. “It’s probably just bleeding. You’re lucky he didn’t do worse. Now beat it.”
    Felipe’s confused gaze raked Sasha’s. Sasha detected no malice or threat from him, just bewilderment. He finally turned with a muttered oath and jogged away, up the path toward Foster Avenue.
    Steve came over and crouched by Sasha. “You okay, Doc?”
    “Yeah. Rattled a bit but fine. Do you know him? What was his problem?”
    Steve didn’t answer, just helped Sasha to stand. “I’m parked a block that way.”
    “Wait a minute. Screw Felipe, how in Hades did you know?”
    “My day to watch you.”
    It didn’t sound like a joke. Sasha eyed him. “You’re kidding, right?”
    Steve shrugged. “Come on, let’s get out of here before Chicago’s finest decide to arrest me for walking while black.”
    Sasha laughed and wiped the dirt and grass off his clothes. Grime smeared his cheek and he tried to rub it off on his shirt, but only managed to make a gritty mess. He clung to Steve on the ride back, grateful for the excuse the Harley provided.
    Steve drove around to the fenced-off lot and hit the button for the gate. The black iron plate slid aside on well-oiled tracks and the bike rumbled in.
    Neal, shirtless and sweating, looked up from the weight bench and set the barbell down with a heavy clink. “What the fuck happened?” He stood and strode over, wiping his sweat with a towel.
    “We gotta talk,” Steve told him, uncharacteristically sober. “One of the Gatos roughed him up, said he smells like us.” The bike bounced as Steve got off. “I’ll be upstairs.”
    Sasha didn’t move, still frozen in place on the back of the motorcycle. He couldn’t have stood even if he’d wanted to; his muscles behaved like cooked noodles. Gods, he hated delayed reactions.
    Neal studied Sasha. “You look like shit.”
    “Yeah. Some fucking wacko decided to try and hump me in the middle of the day at the park.”
    Neal narrowed his eyes. “What did you do?”
    “Tried to kick his ass, what you think?” Sasha snapped. He climbed off the bike, holding on to it so he didn’t have to ask Neal for a hand and look like a weakling. Neal’s warm hand cupped his elbow anyway.
    “Let’s get you inside and cleaned up. You’ve got grass stains on your chin and stuff in your hair.”
    Now that he was safe, Sasha started to shiver with reaction. He pulled free of Neal, not wanting him to see it, but the big man draped an arm over his shoulders as they walked back to the alley. No one else appeared as they ascended in the elevator or upstairs hall, and Neal walked into the condo with hardly any sound from his shoes. Neal went through to the bathroom and locked the door, then started the shower.
    He turned to Sasha and examined the side of his face. “Just grass and dirt,” he reported in a soft voice. “No blood.”
    The room where he’d been raped flashed into his mind like an obscene movie. He tried to deepen his breathing and get present in the moment, but failed. “I can’t get here ,” Sasha whispered, unable to get his voice any louder. “I keep seeing them … I couldn’t get loose, was gagged, and the top ignored my safe signal…”
    Neal stroked his hair. “You never told me your safe word was ignored.” He cupped Sasha’s chin and they stared at each other. “I promise you, I will never let that happen with us.”
    Sasha took a deep breath and nodded. “Thanks. I really thought I was past all of this. I haven’t had a flashback in years. Why now? Why not when I was being attacked in the alley?”
    “I’ve been in lots of combat situations with different men. How and why reactions happen are beyond me.” Neal