Between The Tides Of Pain & Rapture | MxM

Chapter 14

"Nathan—watch your step."

Nathan let out a shocked gasp and his eyes doubled when he felt a strong arm curled around his waist, pulling him, and he stumbled a foot or two backward. His back collided against a solid chest, knocking the air out of his lungs for a split second. The sudden rush caused his heart to race, too, and he chuckled awkwardly when he realized he was about to walk right into a street pole. He should pay more attention to where he was going; he should also move away from Matthew. However, when he looked over his shoulder, he couldn't stop the childish laughter from slipping past his lips. Matthew seemed amused.

"You need to be more careful or you might break something," Matthew said close to Nathan's ear, his voice seeming almost low and seductive—Nathan was sure Ira couldn't possibly hear from where she stood, watching the whole ordeal about three feet behind them.

"My bad, I wasn't looking," he said, finally moving away. He ignored the way Matthew's fingers brushed over his arm—the man was probably getting uncomfortable from their proximity and was trying to push him away faster. Nathan cleared his throat; his eyes skimmed over to his wife and he smiled at her before adding, "Where do you want to get dinner, honey?"

Ira smoothed her cream dress—a beautiful, simple dress that dropped below her knees—and crossed her arms as her eyes wandered about before stopping at Matthew. She asked with sparkles in her eyes, "I'm still not familiar with this place. I think I'll let your friend pick. He was born here, am I right, Mr. Davis?"

Matthew nodded and replied, "Not quite, Ma'am. I was actually born and raised in Kansas—moved here about five years ago."

"But you are familiar with Evanston, aren't you?"

"I know this place like the back of my palm."

Ira walked over to the two men, her heels, two inches in length, clanked on the cobblestone. When she reached between them, she held Nathan's hand and threaded her fingers with his, and with red lips and a bright smile, she turned to look at Matthew and said with a curt nod, "Then it's settled—lead the way, Mr. Davis."

"Alright then," Matthew said with a tight smile, seemingly displeased; seemingly.

In the late evening hours, together, the three of them continued strolling alongside the Mapel tree-lined streets.

Since the Saturday night when Nathan was drugged, a week had gone by as fast as a blink of an eye.

Ever since what happened with him and Logan that night, he felt sort of cheated, even though he was the cheater. Logan had used him when he was vulnerable—took advantage of him, and blackmailed him in the process. Yet his traitorous heart refused to fault the younger man. This Logan — this bastard who dressed in fancy suits and wore Logan's face — he was a bloody draining man, and despite everything, he was also a filling man. He drained Nathan and filled him up at the same time.

After that day, Nathan didn't show up to work on Monday, he just couldn't.

Instead, he spent the whole day at home, in bed curled in on himself while pretending to be sick. He was afraid to face Logan, afraid of what the younger man might do. Logan, however, was not afraid to face him. The bastard actually showed up at his home! Luckily Ira and his mother went to the hospital to get his Ma's regular checkup when he answered the door. He had tried to slam it in Logan's face too, but the fucker pushed his way through and forced Nathan into the corner, demanding to know why he didn't show up to work while threatening to release the video on every porn site possible. Fucking evil bastard. What was Nathan to do? He didn't know; Logan was an unreasonable man. Eventually, he pleaded for a week off — he literally had his palms clamped together like a desperate fool! Still, Logan didn't budge. It was only when he said he was sick, and the younger man touched his forehead and believed his lie, then Nathan was allowed to stay home for a week.

Come tomorrow, the week would be over and Nathan would have to go back to work.

As for Matthew, Nathan didn't believe a word of Logan's accusation, not that Logan mentioned it ever again.

Feeling quilted about the whole ordeal, he had explained and apologized to Matthew for what had happened, minus the part where he got carelessly drugged. He made up some excuse that he got sick and left in a hurry. Surprisingly Matthew took it well, he was understandable—he had thrown an arm over Nathan and laughed it off, and said it was alright —"It happens all the time," he had said. Nathan knew his friend was just trying to be nice.

Matthew, however, didn't seem to take too kindly when Nathan admitted he was no longer going to leave Anderson's Estate. The man seemed rather annoyed at that bit — maybe he was just upset that Nathan wouldn't get to work for him. Whatever the reason, their friendship didn't falter, so Nathan had no objection when his wife asked him to let Matthew take them for a walk around the city tonight, as she wasn't familiar with the area, and neither was Nathan.

"Honey?" Came Ira's soft voice, her fingers went up, wrapping around Nathan's upper arm. "Are you alright? You don't look so good. You look pale."

Nathan cleared his throat and lied, "I think I'm still sick."

"You want to go home?"

"Nonsense," Matthew cut in before Nathan could get a word out. "We're only a block away from the restaurant I'm taking you two."

Nathan didn't object. Instead, he shrugged his shoulders at Ira who rolled her eyes at him because of Matthew's insistent behavior. He sensed that his wife didn't like his friend. Matthew was a great guy, so odd that neither Ira nor Logan liked him.

They walked the streets some more with Nathan finally putting Logan at the back of his mind while he got distracted by the bulb lights covering the trees. Evanston was beautiful, a bit expensive, though. Still, he wished to live there forever, maybe one day he and Ira could open a convenience store, or maybe not; he didn't want to relive those memories again. Eventually, they came to a stop. It was the restaurant Matthew suggested, a high-end place that made Nathan subconsciously touch the wallet in his pocket, wondering if he had enough to spend. He probably did, but it was all the money he had left for the month.

He watched as Matthew went inside, straight for the reservation desk. They didn't even make reservations, yet it didn't seem to be a problem. One glanced at Matthew, the receptionist faked a pleasant smile and slowed him over to an empty table. As he waved them over, Nathan sighed and muttered to Ira, "You go in, I'll be right behind you."

She frowned. "Where are you going?"

"Nowhere," he answered. "I just gotta check to make sure we have enough money to spend at this place. I'm sorry."

Ira's frown deepened. "There's nothing to be sorry about," she said, and without another word, she went inside.

As Nathan shuffled through his pocket to get to his wallet, his eyes wandered about; they seemed glued to the fairy lights and light bulbs the whole night. However, what caught his attention, causing goosebumps to riddle his body was no bloody light. Logan fucking Anderson. Nathan's knees buckled and his heart thundered.

Logan was there. Standing at the opposite end of the street, watching him. How long had he been there? What was he doing there? Had he been following him? Like a stalker?!

So many questions, yet Nathan's thoughts only lingered on Logan's face. His face was contoured into a deep frown, surely his eyes were murderous, and his jaw clenched painfully tight. He looked so angry—so deranged, like any moment he was going to stomp over and put a knife to Nathan's throat. The older man took in a shuddering gasp at the thought. He despised fearing Logan, but this man was absolutely insane if was watching him the whole time. Why was he doing this?!

As Logan took a step forth, Nathan's eyes doubled. "Ah hell nah," he whispered under his breath before he yanked the door open and sped walked inside. He was going to discuss this obscene behavior with Logan tomorrow. Yes... Yes, he was going to do just that.