SE Jakes Bound By Honor by SE Jakes Page A

vulnerable.
    He cal ed himself a bastard several times over for the man he’d left behind and the one in front of him who was
    obviously in trouble. Probably had been for a while and Damon had been too wrapped up in himself to notice.
    LC was drinking whiskey, something he usual y stayed far away from—and from al alcohol for the most part. And now,
    he was sitting alone in a booth, staring into space with a half-empty bottle in front of him.
    He would have a hel of a hangover in the morning.
    Damon slid in across from LC. “Tel me everything.”
    LC did. Told him what had been happening over the past two weeks, about the attacks. About going to the hospital
    with the third victim. “Tonight was number three. Same pattern. The police are involved since Kevin wanted to do a rape
    kit.”
    Damon felt the horror of the truth wash over him. LC fil ed and pushed a shot glass in his direction and Damon
    downed it, and then another.
    It didn’t help. “Why didn’t you tel me?”
    “You know why.” LC didn’t bother to say anything else—what was there? “This is the third one. I thought maybe they
    were isolated incidents.”
    “Obviously not.” Damon’s voice was hoarse with pain-fil ed memories he refused to let back in ful y.
    Judging by the look in LC’s eyes, he had.
    “The police don’t even have a description. He hits them from the back,” LC explained.
    “One guy?” Damon asked, the shot glass squeezed in his palm.
    LC eyed him steadily as the past flashed before both their eyes. “Yes. One.”
    “You don’t think…” Damon trailed off and LC abandoned the shot glass for ful -on slugging from the damned bottle.
    “I think, Damon. I can’t stop fucking thinking,” he admitted when he final y came up for air and then took another swig.
    “I get that it’s your pain…”
    “No, it’s not just mine.” Damon ran a hand through his hair and let LC drink the pain away for the moment.
    “It can’t b e the same guy, Damon—I think we both know that. Sixteen years would b e a he l o f a long time t o hold a
    grudge.”
    Damon had. But he let L C keep talking, because the ma n ha d been dealing with this silently fo r weeks a nd i t was
    Damon’s fault he’d done so.
    “Supposed to be a safe club. That was the point of this place—safety first. No one gets taken against their wil .”
    Damon closed his eyes and stil heard the clink of the chains…the screams…the begging. “It is, LC.
    We can’t control everything.”
    “Says the great Dom—Damon Control-is-my-life Price.”
    “What did the police say?” he asked, ignoring LC’s comment.
    “The detective was hitting on me,” LC slurred.
    That made Damon grin a little. “Yeah, and?”
    “And what? Nothing ever happens. You know that.”
    “It could.”
    LC just gave a short laugh and put the bottle down. “I’m going to hate myself in the morning.”
    Damon didn’t bother to point out that LC seemed to hate himself every morning, even when he woke up sober. And
    he hated that he was powerless to do anything about that.
    The only one who might be able to put LC back together was Styx, and Damon sure as hel wouldn’t cal that bastard
    and ask him for a damned thing.

Chapter Seven
    It was hours before Damon got L C t o bed and another one with him lying next t o his friend, listening t o hi m breathe,
    thinking about the way things were. The way they used to be.
    On a night like this one, years earlier, with an icy rain pelting the ground, Damon lay sleeping with LC awake next to
    him.
    Back then, Damon had slept for three days straight, as if his mind refused to let him wake until his body had begun to
    heal.
    He wasn’t sure his mind ever did. He didn’t dream of the attack that often anymore and wondered if that would
    change now. But being here, close to dawn, he didn’t feel like anything had changed at al .
    “What’s happening is different, LC,” he said into the darkness, and was surprised when LC mumbled,
    “You