Skipping the house altogether, we walked up alongside it instead until we reached the back. Classic rock music was already pouring out from the club area inside, so that was one less thing we had to set up for a day of chilling by the pool. The large wooden deck was abandoned, but I spotted two towels hanging over the sofa in one of the two seating areas. Our members must’ve taken a break to cool off. Couldn’t blame them.
River excused himself to get beers from our place and veered left. Six A-frame cabins sat along the tree line as permanent getaways for those of us who’d started the community. Riv and I were the only ones who’d made our cabin our home, though.
I peered into the club area through the open patio doors and spotted the two bondage kinksters discussing something over by the St. Andrew’s Cross.
I let them be.
On my way across the deck, I adjusted the cover on one of the hot tubs and surveyed the seating areas. I’d pulled out all the cushions earlier today, and I didn’t think I needed to stow them away anytime soon. The weather was going to be sunny throughout the weekend. Then I ducked into the patio shed—an extension of the house that’d become a supply closet as well as a kitchenette. From the freezer, I grabbed a cut of meat to defrost for later. Two towels from a closet, and lastly, a cooler of ice for the beer.
This day was already improving. I was out of the city, somewhat alone with my brother, there was a cure for the brutal heat, and we could discuss our plan for Shay Acton in peace. Now that we had the sign of approval from the other founders.
The pool area began just off the patio, and River reached the double lounger we usually shared by the time I closed the shed door. Beyond the pool was a massive lawn that slanted downhill to where a forest took over. Said lawn would be the location for our next big event, which got me thinking about Shay. If we did manage to lure him out here to spend some time with us, enough time for us to get into his head and make him realize he couldn’t continue his self-destruction, he would need something to do.
I caught Riv staring at me with an expectant look.
“What?” I asked unnecessarily.
He already knew.
“Just spit it out,” he said. “You’re gonna change something. I can smell one of your new ideas comin’ a mile away.”
I chuckled and set the cooler on the side table. “We haven’t gone public with the details for the next Game yet.”
While most of our events—with much less planning involved—went public on our online platform months in advance, The Games were different. Only the dates had been set. Details were published a couple weeks beforehand. It was the perfect way to build anticipation and keep people guessing.
“You wanna go with another theme,” River stated flatly.
I joined him at the foot of the lounger. “It wouldn’t require a lot of work.” I ghosted my hands up his sides and pressed my forehead to his. We were equally damp with sweat, and I hoped it wouldn’t take too long to convince him. The water called to me. “It’s not like it’d be a waste either. We’ll just save the preparations for this event to a later date.”
He huffed and inched away. “Jesus Christ, Reese.”
“Is that a yes?” I grinned and gave his shoulder a nip.
He grunted, cupping my elbow. “Depends on the theme.”
I hummed and eased back enough to lift a brow at him.
Come on. It was a given.
He narrowed his eyes, and I was, as always, struck by how vivid the green in his eyes was, warmed up by flecks of gold and something else reserved for only me.
“Fine,” he sighed. “We don’t have everything we need for the cage fights, though. I know, I know. I’ll call Joyce—but still. We gotta prepare a lot.”
“You can swing it. I know you can.” Happy as a pig in shit, I smacked a kiss to his cheek before backing away and hauling my T-shirt over my head.
“I’m noting that I’m saying we and you’re saying you,” he said.
“This is really your area of expertise, brother.” I removed my belt, then pushed off my jeans and boxer briefs. “Come on, let’s get in the pool and discuss Shay before I sweat my balls off.”
I trailed over to the wide stairs and descended into the water that’d heated up plenty since this morning. All right, I winced and cupped my junk briefly, but that discomfort faded within seconds. Then I sank into the bliss and submerged myself completely.
I’d been waiting all fucking day for this…
When I resurfaced, Riv was on his way in too, though he kept his boxer briefs on.
“I don’t think we can actually trick him,” he said pensively. “He won’t be taken for a ride.”
No, I’d gotten that impression too.
Of course I’d noticed him before all this. Shay was an incredibly sexy young man, and apparently he loved extreme pain. In theory, that made him our favorite drug. But I’d written him off when I’d learned about his behavior toward Sadists. Or rather, why he might want that pain. And if that was true, he wasn’t a masochist. He was just a lost kid looking for punishment.
According to River’s brief surveillance and profiling, Shay was sharp and trusted no one. He was fearless because he’d given up on something, on life—or if he lacked direction or purpose. He was highly skilled and trained in martial arts like kung fu, Krav Maga, combat sambo, judo, and tae kwon do, and my brother didn’t hand out compliments for nothing. If someone impressed him, they’d gone far.
“We could bargain with him,” I said. “He wants something we’re capable of giving.”
Riv nodded with a dip of his chin and joined me by the shallow end.
“You’re not convinced,” I stated.
He squinted and ghosted his palms along the surface of the water. “I don’t think it’ll be enough to bring him out here for several days, no.”
We needed several days.
Shay had lost most of his family in a fire. His mother, his father, and his sister. Shay and two younger brothers had survived. That kind of pain didn’t go away, nor would changing his mind be easy or happen quickly. And if he sought out underground cage fighting instead of seeking actual help, there was no way he’d come willingly—unless we struck the right deal.
“One of us can fight him,” I noted.
River cocked his head at me, listening.
“You said he hasn’t lost a single match,” I went on.
“I said he hasn’t lost a single match fairly. I’ve seen him throw fights—presumably for money.”
“Semantics,” I replied. “He knows he’s not losing because he can’t handle the fight. I imagine he’s pretty cocky by now—or at least, at ease and confident in his skills.”
My brother got my line of thinking now. Because all we had to do was show up at one of those fights, pay the buy-in, and challenge him. One of us against him. If he lost, he had to come out here and spend a week with us. Maybe two. We’d get a better sense of him this weekend, I reckoned.
“It’s up to you to decide which one of us is better suited to take him on,” I finished.
I hadn’t seen Shay fight yet.
River glanced away and sucked his teeth, always reluctant to make quick moves. Even more so in this case when his only source of profiling came from an underground club where it’d be weird as fuck if Shay didn’t come off as sharp and guarded. But we didn’t have time to dick around, and I seriously didn’t want to ban the boy.