Aftermath

Finally almost done with Aftermath–my first novel, my first m/m erotica book I’ll have a release date for you within a week, I think.

Before then, here are a few glimpses.

oOo

Austin looked around himself, panic creeping up his spine, but he saw nothing. Not even his hands that were cuffed together in front of him. It was pitch black, and as his senses slowly returned to him, he gagged at the smell of sweat, urine, and vomit.

“He-hello?” he croaked as a furious headache settled in. Judging by how his voice carried, he guessed he was in a small space.

Then there was a response. “Not your lucky day, man.”

Fear shot through Austin, and he automatically pulled his legs closer to his body and raised his arms in case a fight was coming. He was definitely not alone in this small…wherever he was.

“Where am I?” Austin demanded in a rasp.

This time, the man spoke softer. “No idea.”

oOo

“Are you taking your meds?”

Cam rolled his eyes and grabbed a beer. “Who are you—my fucking father? Yeah, I’m taking my meds. Christ.”

Austin sighed.

Still feeling agitated and antsy, Cam chugged down his first beer quickly and then leaned back in his chair, reminding himself that Austin was here now. Nothing had gone wrong. It was just Riley who’d been reluctant to leave her dad.

It sucked that they lived in completely different parts of the city. On opposite sides, even.

“So…big birthday tomorrow.” Austin went for conversation again.

“Not really.” Cam closed his eyes and breathed calmly. “Thirty or forty would’ve been big. Or even thirty-five. Not thirty-four.”

If anyone had a big birthday coming up, it was Austin. In December, he’d turn forty. Cam remembered that from one of the times he’d had an anxiety attack in that metal cage. Austin had calmed his ass down with useless trivia about accounting, childhood stories, and some other personal crap that made Cam focus on something other than his hyperventilating.

oOo

Since Cam had been locked up in here, he had spent his time fighting off anxiety attacks, shouting for help, regulating his motherfucking breathing, and learning the names of the other eight fuckers in here. He’d found out that they were all stuck in small cells two and two—Victor and Chase, Lance and James, Tim and Sean, Pete and Chris. And now Cam and Austin.

They were names he’d remember involuntarily, ’cause it was nothing he gave a flying fuck about at this point. All he cared about was the fact that ten seemingly able-bodied men had gotten themselves kidnapped, and as far as they all knew, only one man was responsible. In other words, shit didn’t look good.

He’d read the papers, of course, so he knew that the first dude had been taken about a week before Cam was kidnapped, too. It was big news in the entire state, and now the number was ten kidnappings in approximately eleven days.

oOo

Cam was in purgatory when someone woke him up. Disoriented and ready to fight for his life, he flew outta his chair and pounced on the fucker touching his arm. Vision blurry, he gripped Psycho by the throat and they ended up on the floor—

“Cam!”

What the fuck?

The sound of Austin’s voice made Cam slow down his movements.

“Jesus Christ, Cam,” Austin growled, and with a force Cam couldn’t compete with, he ended up on his back, his shoulder blades digging into the wooden floorboards of the patio. Shit. Patio. He was back home. Not hell. Not that metal cage. Austin was here. They were safe. The next time Austin spoke, it was softer. “Talk to me, Cam. You’re a mess.”

Cam released a choked breath and tried to relax under Austin’s body. “I’m sorry,” he muttered in a strangled voice. “Fuck. I don’t—” I don’t know what’s wrong with me. It had been like this whenever someone woke him up. At the hospital, it had been his brother. Then, a few days after he’d been released, he had hooked up with one of the chicks who never stopped calling him. He had fallen asleep at her apartment after a mediocre fuck, and when she’d woken him up, she had been on the receiving end of a fist.

He felt beyond shitty. Savannah had been understanding—had even tried to comfort Cam while he took her to the emergency room for her split lip, and she’d offered to drive him to his shrink’s office afterward. Cam had passed on the offer, apologized a hundred times, then ended their casual relationship.

He wasn’t gonna take a chance with Kim or Walsh, the other two he hooked up with from time to time. He’d ended things with them, too. Kim had cried, reminding Cam of how women could get—so much for fucking casually—and Walsh had been oddly quiet.

There was also another reason Cam had already planned on never seeing Walsh again, and that reason was currently lying on top of him. Being with a guy would cause Cam to think about other things than being friends with Austin, a man he needed in his life.

“Have you spoken to Gale about this?” Austin asked as he slowly removed himself from Cam. They went to the same psychologist—all the surviving guys did. “You should. It could be PTSD.”