Chess Part Two Box Set Read online

  God, he’d waited too long. Jason got the sheets off, the pillows out on the balcony to air out. Then he got some clean sweats and socks, a T-shirt. Bishop was supporting Knight, washing his hair when Jason got to the bathroom.

  “Lots of soap.” He winked at Bishop, then got the razor, the shaving cream. “For his beard.”

  “Come give me a hand,” suggested Bishop. “You can do it and I’ll hold him up.”

  “I’m not going to let you two shave me.” Knight was whining, but not fighting.

  “Yes, you are, boy.” Bishop practically growled it out.

  “I’m not. I’m not a boy.”

  Oh. Oh, Jason didn’t know about getting in the middle of that.

  “Don’t start with me, baby. You know you’re mine, through and through. And I’m not letting you funk your way into oblivion.”

  Jason’s lips twisted and he fought manfully not to laugh at Bishop’s choice of words.

  Bishop went on. “Come on. We’re shaving you and then you’re going to walk and do whatever shit Jason says you have to do. Then you’re going to eat. And tomorrow we’re doing it all over again.”

  “What is wrong with you? I was sleepy.” Knight was still whining, also still not fighting them physically, but Jason didn’t think the man could.

  “You can’t still be sleepy, Knight, not if you’re going to heal.” Jason knew that. Knight needed to wake the fuck up.

  “You heard the man. If you want, we can book you an appointment and you can hear that from the doctor, too.” Bishop had that tone in his voice—he was playing hardball now.

  “I saw my doctor! He said I was okay, healing. Needed to take it easy!”

  Jason snorted. “You’re never out of bed.”

  “And that was three months ago,” Bishop added. “This is happening, Knight. Get used to the idea.”

  Thank God for Bish. The man made things easier.

  Bishop got Knight turned around, leaning back against his big muscles. “Just relax against me and let Jason do the work.”

  “I promise not to hurt you.” Knight’s beard was scraggly and patchy, not a good look and Knight had to know that.

  “Just relax, baby,” crooned Bishop. “It’s going to feel good to get cleaned up.”

  Jason spread the shaving cream around, ignoring the by-play between Knight and Bishop.

  Bishop continued, “Love your jawline, baby. You shouldn’t hide it from us.”

  “Oh, shut up. Jason, don’t you cut me.” Knight glared at him.

  “I won’t.” He hoped. He’d never done this before. He really wished Rook was here.

  “He won’t if you stay still, baby. I know you can do that.”

  Jason looked to Bishop, needing some reassurance, the acknowledgment he was doing the right thing.

  Bishop nodded. “Go ahead, Jase. We trust you.”

  He wasn’t sure about that, but whatever. He was going to do his best. He carefully shaved with smooth strokes, his hand shaking the barest bit.

  Knight’s eyes met his.

  “I promise to be careful,” he told Knight. “You can’t give up. You can’t.”

  Bishop nodded. “That’s right. He’s smart, our baby boy.”

  Knight looked at him. “I’m tired.”

  Jason knew, but that didn’t change anything.

  “Sleeping’s not making you less tired,” Bishop pointed out.

  Jason kept shaving, slowly cleaning Knight up. He knew that depression was a vicious thing, a life stealer.

  “I love you,” Bishop said softly. “So much.”

  Knight sighed. “Hush. I’m tired, Bish. You have Jase and Rookie.”

  Jason fought the urge to snarl and lifted Knight’s chin to keep shaving instead.

  “Frankly, I don’t give a fuck that you’re tired. You’re my lover. You’re amazing and talented and vibrant. Jase and Rookie are amazing, but they aren’t you.”

  Jason looked, cleaning up the spots he’d missed. He’d done a good job. God, Knight was skinny. He’d seen it, but now that the man’s face was exposed, it was more evident than ever.

  Bishop ran his hand over Knight’s face. “All clean. What’s next, Jason?”

  “Clothes. Teeth brushed, and into the kitchen for real food.”

  “You heard the man, baby. Let’s do it.”

  “I’m not hungry.” God, Knight was stubborn.

  “Too bad. There’s that sweet and sour soup you like so much from the Chinese place we can heat up and you can have some juice, maybe even some decaf coffee.” Bishop drew Knight out of the shower, leaving Jason to turn off the water. When he’d done that, Bishop was busy rubbing Knight down with a towel.

  He handed Bish a towel for himself, wrapped one around his waist. “There’s oatmeal, toast, pasta. Bacon. Lots of options.”

  “There you go, Knight. If the soup or none of the above appeal, I’ll choose one for you.” Bishop was clearly playing hardball.

  Knight stared at Bishop. “I’m not a child.”

  Bishop stared right back. “Then stop acting like one.”

  “Fucker.”

  “Have you ever known name calling to make me back off, Knight?” Bishop asked.

  “No.” Knight rolled his eyes. “Have you ever known that fact to stop me?”

  Jason snorted.

  “Maybe not.” Bishop shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. You’re still getting on the healing band-wagon if I have to tie you to it and beat you daily.”

  “I’m going back to bed.” Knight turned, headed away.

  “No, baby, you aren’t.” Bishop gently put an arm around Knight and stopped him from leaving the bathroom. He wrapped the man in a robe and guided them down the hall toward the kitchen. “You’ve got to eat.”

  Jason got his sweats on, following closely. He could make grilled cheese. Peanut butter sandwiches.

  “Why don’t you tell us what you want, Knight?” Bishop smiled gently. “We want to make you happy, not just feed you whatever.”

  “I… Pancakes. I want pancakes.”

  Jason wanted to cheer. “I have totally figured those out.”

  “Oh, make enough for everyone?” Bishop asked.

  “I’ll call Rook and let him know. Maybe he can come eat, too.”

  Jason hurried downstairs ahead of the guys, grabbing his phone off the landing table and hitting one.

  “Hi, honey! What’s up?”

  “Rook? Knight wants pancakes.”

  “That’s awesome!” Rook laughed softly. “He’s really gonna eat?”

  “Yes. Should I make enough for you?”

  “Yeah, you’d better. I’m on my way!”

  “Oh, good. Love you.” He made sure to tell Rook, every time they spoke.

  “Mmm. I count on that, honey. I love you, too. Be there soon!”

  Jason clicked his phone shut and grabbed the pancake mix, bacon, the milk and eggs.

  They were going to have a meal together. The four of them.

  Chapter Seven

  Knight was going out of his mind. Every time he went to bed, someone was bothering him. Waking him up. Shoving food in his mouth. Making him walk around. It was crazy. He went to the little bathroom off his bedroom, closed the door and settled in the bath, soaking in the luscious hot water.

  There was a knock, and before he could even decide if he was going to answer, Rook opened the door, Jason behind him. Rook beamed at him. “Oh, a bath. I love soaking with you.”

  He looked. He was soaking. Alone. Not with anyone. Not where he had to talk or interact or pay fucking attention.

  Rook just grinned at his frown. “Jase, honey? You wanna get us some of those lovely juice popsicles?” Then Rookie started stripping.

  “Sure. Be right back.”

  “I’m having a bath,” he pointed out as reasonably as he could.

  “I love taking baths with you.” Rook stood, naked beside the tub. “You don’t mind, do you?”

  He wanted to snap and snarl and, if it had
been Bish, he would, but…hell, this was Rookie. “I don’t suppose so.”

  Rook beamed at him and slid into the tub. It was big enough, Rookie could snuggle with him without crowding him too badly.

  “Mmm. Oh, this is nice, K.”

  “Yeah. Quiet. Peaceful.” Take the hint, Rookie.

  His lover just curled up with him, not babbling or anything, but there, close, touching him.

  Knight had almost relaxed again when Jason showed up with popsicles. “I’ve got grape, cherry and orange.”

  “You choose first, K,” Rookie offered magnanimously.

  “Grape.”

  “Oh, good, I get the cherry!” Rook cheered.

  “Orange for me.” Jason grinned. “I’m going to take a run, I think, and hit the library. You two need anything?”

  Jason handed them their popsicles, and Rookie shook his head, then started slurping his. It was obscene what Rook could do with a Popsicle.

  “You’re a perv.” Knight was ignoring it.

  “Your perv.”

  Knight almost smiled. He thought that Rook was Jason’s these days. Honestly.

  Rook settled against him, still slurping. He chuckled and ate his popsicle, humming softly. It was good. Jason sat on the edge of the tub, eating the orange one, watching them.

  “Weren’t you going for a run?”

  “I have to finish my popsicle first. Otherwise I’ll drip.” Jason was a dork.

  “You and Jason should start running together,” Rook suggested.

  His eyes popped open and he stared at Rook, offended to the bone. “What?” He was never running again. Never.

  “You loved running. You could do it again.”

  “Oh, absolutely. I can’t wait to go.” He could stumble along like Quasimodo, everyone could point and stare. Maybe, if he was lucky, he could get hit by a car.

  “I mean when you’re all better. It could be a goal.” Rookie looked so earnest.

  “Yeah.” God. “Is Bishop out working?” Knight could use a rescuing.

  “I think he went to get the car serviced.”

  “Oh.” He sighed. “I think I’m going to get out, Rookie. Go work for a little while.” Go lie on the floor of Jason’s old room and sleep.

  “I could pose for you. Or Jason could. Or we both could.”

  “I don’t think so. I’m going to just turn the music on and work.” He wanted to be alone. Forever.

  Rook looked over at Jason.

  “Stop it.” He did snarl this time. “I’m a fucking grown-up.”

  Rookie shook his head. “I can’t stop it, you’re scaring me, Knight. You’re scaring all of us. It’s like you’re not really here.”

  Like Knight wasn’t here all the fucking time. All the time. Maybe he should go away, take a vacation, take a trip, just by himself.

  “See—you’re doing it again—shutting down, shutting me out. Is it that awful being around me, Knight?” Rookie sounded near to tears.

  “I’m getting out of the tub.” He levered himself up, stumbling in the slick and Jason caught him.

  “Don’t run away from me, Knight. Please!” Jason begged.

  Knight was near to tears, too.

  “I can’t fucking do this! Leave me alone!” They were with him, all the time.

  Bishop was suddenly in the room with them too. “What’s going on in here?

  “Leave me alone!” Knight started fighting, hitting Jason who held him like he was a baby, like he had no strength.

  Bishop pressed up against him from the other side. “Let it all out, Knight. Go for it.”

  He screamed, kicking and hitting, sobbing with pure frustrated fury. Bishop and Jason simply held him, kept him from hurting himself. Finally his legs gave out, the room going gray.

  He was done.

  Bishop held onto Knight as he collapsed. Bishop met Jason’s gaze, worry like a disease inside him. Knight weighed practically nothing in his arms.

  “Is he okay?” he demanded of Jason.

  Jason took Knight’s pulse. “He just wore himself out.”

  Relief shot through him, but it only swept a part of the worry away. “He doesn’t seem to be getting any better, Jason. All he wants to do is sleep and be left alone. Do we need to get him back to the doctor?”

  Jason actually smiled. “Well, today he yelled at Rook and fought with me. I’m kind of pleased. Let’s give him until the end of the week. If he’s still fighting Monday, we’ll get him in?”

  Bishop frowned, still holding his baby. “Fighting is good?”

  “Let’s go stretch him out.” Jason shrugged. “It’s got to be better than just looking at us. The man was a grumpy fighter before the accident.”

  Bishop couldn’t stop his chuckle at Jason’s words. “I’ll give you that.”

  Rookie trailed them back to his room and he swore he could feel the worry coming from Rook buzzing like a bee behind him.

  Knight sighed as they put him down. “Sore.”

  “You want a massage, baby?” He didn’t even wait for Knight’s answer, simply turned Knight onto his back and started working the man’s muscles.

  Knight groaned, wiggling deeper into the sheets. He was pretty sure that was a ‘yes, please’, as Knight would have had no problem at all snarling at him to leave Knight the fuck alone.

  His lover sighed again. “I want to go on a vacation. I’m going to go away for a few weeks.”

  It took everything Bishop had not to still, to just keep on rubbing Knight’s shoulders. “We could do that. Where do you want to go?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll go to the beach.”

  “You mean ‘we’.” He wasn’t sure Knight was in the right mindset to go on vacation on his own.

  “No. I think I should go alone. Just me.”

  He did not think this was the best idea ever. And he wasn’t about to leave Knight in the lurch, either. “I don’t think so. I think we should all go. Or just you and I should go. But not you alone.”

  Knight shook his head. “Everything’s fucked up, here.”

  “And you think it’s going to get unfucked by you being all by yourself somewhere not home?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t know, Bish. I got hit by a snowplow.”

  “I know, baby. It was the scariest thing any of us has ever gone through. But you lived and now you’re home and we just want you well again. Living, loving. With us.” Please, God, he just wanted Knight back in the land of the living again.

  “I’m never going to be well again.”

  “Bullshit.” The word shot out of him like a bullet. “You’re already a lot better. You’d be even further along if you weren’t just lying around, sleeping and hiding.”

  “Rook asked me if I wanted to go running with Jason.”

  Oh, ouch. Bishop could imagine that had brought up a whole host of memories, fears and worry that he’d never get to the point where he could run again.

  “I’m sure he was just trying to help in his own way.” Bishop knew Rookie didn’t have a mean bone in his body. Hell, Knight knew that, too.

  “I know. I do.” Knight shrugged, muscles moving under his hands. “But nothing is right, Mouse. Nothing.”

  “Then I’ll take you away from here. You and I can reconnect and come back whole, better, right.” Just him and Knight, no distractions, no excuses.

  “What if I’m broken? Will you just leave me wherever we end up?” The words were belligerent, but he knew that was Knight’s real fear.

  “You’re not broken, just bent a little.”

  Knight shook his head. “I don’t know if I believe that.”

  “But I do.” He did. As long as there was breath in Knight’s body, there was hope.

  “Some days I wish I’d just died.” Knight’s words were so quiet, but they were clear. “I could have gone out on top.”

  “Is this all because you’re worried about the art? Do you think that’s all you are?” Bishop was going to beat the man.

  “Art. S
ex. Moving. Laughing. Living. Everything. I’m living in someone else’s body.”

  “No, this is definitely your body.” He started mapping Knight—he knew this man’s body like the back of his hand.

  “Don’t…”

  “Why not?” he demanded.

  “I can’t get it up. I can’t feel good.”

  Bishop frowned. “Is that an assumption?”

  “No. It’s true.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “You haven’t come to any of us for help in that department.”

  Meeting his eyes, Knight replied, “I don’t want to not get it up for you.”

  “You’ve got a catch-twenty-two here, baby. Not being willing to try with us and not being able to get a true test without one of us to help out…”

  Knight shrugged, looking away, hiding from him. Bishop turned Knight’s head and took a kiss, just a kiss, a connection. God, he missed his lover, his best friend. Knight.

  “I won’t lose you, baby.” He murmured the words against Knight’s lips.

  “I’m scared you will.”

  He shook his head. “We’re not going to let that happen. I swear, Knight.”

  Knight looked at him, eyes so fucking still. He hated that look. Hated it.

  “You’re in there somewhere, Knight. I’m gonna dig you out, help you shine for me again.” They’d been so close, months ago when he’d freaked out at Knight going into his old studio and locking the door. He worried he’d done this, he’d turned Knight on the path to depression, though Jason had reassured him this was a perfectly normal reaction to what Knight had gone through.

  “You have two more lovers here.” The ‘you don’t need me’ was implied in Knight’s tone.

  Bishop was not going to even entertain that idea or allow it to fester in Knight’s brain. “We’re a foursome, not a threesome. Besides, no one else is my baby.”

  “They could be,” Knight insisted.

  “No. You’re mine.” Of that he was sure.

  Knight squeezed his fingers. No. No, that wasn’t an answer. That wasn’t enough.

  “Say it,” he growled the words. “Tell me you’re mine.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me, baby. I want to hear it. Right now.” He needed to hear the words from Knight. He needed to know they were cutting those thoughts right out at the bone.