Louis knew Craig would never have touched him if Louis had been with someone.
“Let’s undress you.”
“Take it slow,” Louis begged. “I hurt all over.”
“I’ll treat you like my Aunt Thelma on her wedding night,” Craig promised.
Louis pulled a face. “That was an image I didn’t need in my head.”
Craig chuckled and Louis joined in. Craig’s Aunt Thelma had been a formidable woman. She spent her wedding night instructing her new husband how to assist a cow giving birth. Uncle David had never fully recovered from the trauma.
Craig kneeled in front of Louis and eased off his boots, followed by his socks. Then he tackled the snaps of the red plaid shirt. He frowned. “You don’t usually wear plaid shirts.”
Louis was designer, not Target. Plaid shirts went against everything he believed in. He gave a weary chuckle and wished he could rest his head on Craig’s shoulder again. “Have you only just noticed?”
“Yeah.”
“I couldn’t manage T-shirts or button-downs. Liam bought me this. He’s been amazing, Craig. He fired my security, found me new gear to wear, dressed me, sprung me from the hospital and flew me to Paris.”
“He dressed you?”
Louis narrowed his eyes at the heated tone. “Yes. You got a problem with that?”
From his angry expression, yes Craig seriously had an issue with that. Louis put his huge hand over Craig’s where he’d been undoing a snap.
“I needed help. It was nothing more than that.”
“I wish you’d called me,” Craig said. “You should have stayed at home and let me come to you.”
Louis squeezed his hand. “I should have trusted you.”
Craig grimaced, and Louis winced, knowing he’d hurt Craig’s feelings.
“I’m sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have had to fly to Paris to find me.”
“Hey, I got to go on a private jet.”
They both chuckled because although Louis was wealthy, he wasn’t private jet wealthy, yet.
“Are you gonna be able to afford QuickFire and me?” Craig asked as he slipped the shirt off Louis’s shoulders. Louis shrugged, then winced. “Don’t do that,” Craig chided.
“I keep forgetting. It’s going to be tight for a while, but I’ll manage. And before you think it, I’m paying you, okay?”
He was relieved Craig decided not to argue because he was flagging. He needed uninterrupted sleep in his own bed. He would have a short nap and then call the club.
Craig slowly undressed Louis until he could see all the bruises which mapped his body.
Fuck! Louis hated being exposed like this. He hid his face from Craig, not wanting to see his pity at the dark bruises everywhere.
“Oh, baby.”
Craig traced the outlines of each punch, each kick. Louis sighed and part-collapsed, part-rolled onto the bed. One advantage of the bed being unmade was Craig could just pull the sheet and comforter over Louis, who closed his eyes. He was asleep in seconds before he’d even had the chance to beg Craig to stay.
Craig
Craig stalked downstairs, intending to yell at Quick for touching his boy, only to find him asleep at the breakfast bar, his head buried in his arms. Next to him, his phone showed a handsome, dark-haired man typing on his laptop. He picked up the phone. “Mr. Fyre?”
The guy looked up. “Yes. Oh, you must be Booker. Is Liam still asleep?”
“He is.”
“Flying three times across the Atlantic is a killer,” Fyre said, with the air of a man who’d done it many times.
“Does he have to return to London straight away?”
“He does. I’ll take care of him this end. Is everything organized?”
Craig narrowed his eyes. “Are you involved in the day to day arrangements for QuickFire?”
“No, I was just being nosy because I know Liam won’t tell me anything.”
Craig relaxed at the knowledge Quick kept the details of his business confidential, even from his partner.
“You’re not going to tell me anything either.”
It wasn’t a question.
“No.”
“Good.” Fyre pulled a face. “I’ve got to go to an early meeting. Tell Liam I’ll talk to him tomorrow.”
He disconnected the call before Craig could say goodbye. Craig gave a short laugh and put the phone next to Quick’s elbow. Both of his traveling companions were asleep, but he was hungry as it was late evening back in Paris, and the last meal he’d eaten had been breakfast in Paris. He hadn’t been much interested in food on the plane.
He set the coffee machine on and looked in the fridge. There were the makings of a good sandwich. He pulled out the cheese and ham and salad and got to work making food for all of them. It was only as he put Quick’s and Louis’s back in the fridge that he wondered if Louis could eat solid food. His jaw might be too sore. Maybe soup. Craig rummaged through the cabinet and came up with two cans of tomato soup. Score! He could make grilled cheese too, if Louis could manage that. Craig looked over his shoulder at a noise.
Quick sat up, knuckling his eyes. He didn’t look so immaculate now. The shirt was creased and there were sweat stains under the arms. He grabbed his phone. “Dammit.”
“He said he’ll see you tomorrow. He had to go to a meeting.” Craig waved the coffee pot and Quick nodded.
“He’s never going to let me forget I fell asleep on him.”
Craig smiled. “I think he understands. He asked me about the case.”
“What did you tell him?” Quick asked sharply, his eyes narrowed.
“Nothing.”
“Good.” Quick seemed satisfied. “I love Zach, but he needs to keep his nose out of QuickFyre business.”
“He doesn’t have any involvement in the day to day details?”
“Hell no. He makes money. Protecting people is my business.”
Craig handed Quick a mug and retrieved the sandwich from the fridge.
“Food too. Thanks, mate.”
Craig watched Quick inhale the sandwich. “There’s a second one if you want it,” he said. “I made it for Louis, but I think he’s gonna be drinking soup for a week.”
The second sandwich went the way of the first, along with more coffee.
Craig shook his head. “Do you want me to get takeout?”
Quick seriously considered it. Craig could see him debating the idea. Then he shook his head. “I need to get back to London. Can we discuss arrangements? I was going to take you to CDR, but I’ve got to fly back.”
“It’s okay. I know them well. Is it the usual arrangements with the back-up team?”
Quick nodded. “You’ve got three teams working with you around the clock. Each member has been hand-picked by Dominic. None of them raised any flags about working for someone else. Josh vetted them all. You know what he’s like. He knows their dick length and shoe size.”
“I don’t want to know,” Craig muttered. “As long as they can do their job and stay away from Louis.”
Quick’s eyebrow shot up. “They will need contact with their client.”