Cole: The Mangler: Book 1 (A Phoenix Club Serial thriller)

EPILOGUE: Blast From The Past

"You didn't have to come in today if you weren't feeling up to it," Gabe said as he and Cole entered the Phoenix Club. The two men had met in this high-end strip club five years ago. Both were fairly new to the place and became instant friends. And not long after, fuck friends. Until about a year ago, that's all they had been. Then one day, something clicked, and they realized they were in love. It wasn't long after their enlightenment that they tied the knot.

It had been months since their wedding day, but it still felt as if they were in the honeymoon phase. Until today. The change in Cole since he awoke from his bad dream, or whatever it was, had been instant and unexpected. The fact that Cole hadn't "changed back" after a couple of hours or so was concerning to Gabe. His husband never held stuff back, especially if it was something that deeply troubled him. Cole was troubled now... but he wasn't talking about it.

"I'm fine," Cole mumbled and seemed distracted—as he had since he woke up. "I'm gonna grab a booth." He walked away.

"Okay..." Gabe frowned and watched him cross the club floor and take a seat at their boss' reserved table. Gabe and Cole always sat at the bar while they were at the club. The bartenders were close friends of theirs, and they preferred to chat with them than sit isolated at a table.

"What's up with your hubby?" Dane asked when Gabe approached the bar alone.

Gabe took a stool at the far end of the bar. "I don't know." He motioned to Riley, the bartender, and tapped the bar.

"Kind of early to start drinking, isn't it?" Dane arched an eyebrow.

"Yes," Gabe said and picked up the glass Riley set before him and took a long drink.

"Okay." Dane cast a curious look at Riley, who appeared as confused as Dane. "Want to talk about it?"

Gabe glanced over at his husband. Cole sat in the booth and stared blankly across the club, a slight pinch to his brow. "I would," he mumbled, "if I knew what to talk about." He took another drink of beer. "It started this morning when Cole came out of a dream with a jolt. Kicked me hard enough to leave a bruise on my leg. He said he didn't know what he was dreaming about, but he hasn't been right since he woke up." Gabe chuffed. "He didn't even want to get down and dirty. That's like our morning ritual."

Dane cocked his head. "That certainly doesn't sound like Cole. I get the impression he's always ready to throw down."

"He is," Gabe said. "Until today." He sighed. "It isn't about the sex. It's... him. He isn't acting like himself." Gabe exhaled hard. "Sorry. I'm making a mountain out of a molehill. He's having an off day, that's all. We're all entitled to them now and then." He waved his hand. "Forget I said anything."

Gabe picked up his glass and took a drink as his eyes drifted back to Cole. He tried to take comfort in his own words and believe Cole was just having "one of those" days. Yet, his gut continued to twist and knot, insisting it was more than that.

• • •

Cole felt the weight of the stares, Gabe's most heavily. He didn't look their way. If Gabe or the others wanted to talk, he wouldn't know what to say. How could he explain his behavior when even he didn't understand it? Plenty of serial killer documentaries had passed through his line of sight over the years, and he'd managed to dismiss them and go on without incident.

What was different this time?

The dream.

The TV had infused his dreams... and unearthed a memory.

Cole rested his head in his hands and closed his eyes. The resurrection of that single memory disturbed the ground around his buried past, breathing life back into the other memories. He could feel them trying to claw their way to the surface, rending the flesh of his mind.