LOVE & STITCHES at The Asylum Part Twenty-Two
Tensions are high in The Asylum and you get ringside seats! Pour yourself a glass of your favorite drink and find a comfy spot to dive right in.
Happy Reading!
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A crack of thunder is always accompanied by a lightning strike.
Reaching out to serve a whiskey to one of their prospective members, Glencairn glass in his hand, Curtis found his gaze going automatically to the windows in search of a bright white flash at the sound of a loud BANG! shaking the floorboards beneath the black rubber bar mat under his feet. The impulse to duck and go for a weapon after Vani’s training was strong.
Thankfully, common sense was stronger. Curtis’ reflexes alerted him to the direction of the danger, and its nature, a split second before Jared bellowed his name. Rounding the corner from the gym doors, the man gripped the edge of the bar, cold fury radiating off him in a way that gave Curtis frostbite from ten feet.
“Get your fucking ass in the fucking ring.” Somehow softer and louder than his initial bellow, Jared issued what at first Curtis read as an order.
Head turning, he frowned in the direction of the gym doors he couldn’t see from where he stood at the end of the bar closest to the galley. “Is there a problem?” Setting the drink on a coaster, Curtis plucked up the bar towel to dry his hands. “Reed, take over for me.”
“Yes, sir.” Reed stared at Jared like he wasn’t sure what to make of his tone or demeanor, looking more than a little relieved when Lawson’s office door opened, the man himself striding out with the two potential members he’d been interviewing gaping out after him. He spoke under his breath to Matt, who’d closed the distance between them. “Ish is about to hit the fan.”
“I thought I smelled something.” Matt spoke so quietly, moving past Reed to deliver a basket of snacks to one of the nearer hightops, Curtis had to read his lips to understand what he’d said.
Already around the bar, Curtis frowned at Lawson, exchanging a glance that asked if he knew what this was about. “It’s alright. I’ll fix whatever it is.” If anyone were hurt, that would be Jared’s department. “Did the ring stairs fall over again? I think those bolts were defective. It’s the third time I’ve replaced them...”
“Fine, but can we refrain from trying to add the goddamn gym doors to the list of repairs?” Lawson’s gaze went to the doors, as though assessing whether or not they intended to throw off his budget that very moment. “I thought the damn club was under attack.”
Rolling his shoulders, Jared didn’t respond. Merely pivoted and stalked back out the way he’d entered. With a little less oomph but no less fury. Whoever it was that had gotten on his bad side was in for a hell of a night.
“Wouldn’t want to be on his shit list right now.” Curtis left the bar towel on the bar, giving Lawson a wide-eyed grimace on his way past. “I’ll take care of it. You carry on with the sanity checking. We can’t afford any more crazy around here. We’re full up.”
Lawson inclined his head. “Just keep your cool. Maybe one of the members was injured doing something foolish. Come get me if you need an intervention.” He snapped his fingers at Reed, catching his attention. “Back to work, my boy. Everything’s under control and you know how overwhelmed you get when you fall behind on orders.”
Giving him a quick nod, then shooting Curtis a bracing smile, Reed spurred back into action, nodding at a nearby sub and flipping up a tray which he began lining with shot glasses.
Returning that smile with a wink, Curtis grinned back at his boy. “What Law means is that your hiney looks even hotter when it's got some hustle. We want to encourage those memberships with the eye candy.”
Some humor lit Reed’s eyes as he added a bit of wiggle to his spin toward the back bar. “They’re lucky I’m not on my A-game right now. We’d be peeling half their jaws off the floor. But I’ve got this, sirs. Go do your thing. Me and Matt can handle these thirsty bastards.”
Curtis nodded, leaving with Matt’s, “Gonna invent a drink called the thirsty bastard,” cutting through the din of the bar. His boys’ voices like a homing beacon even through the music and the noise. He’d hear them and pick them out of thousands blindfolded.
Smiling softly to himself, he entered the mostly empty gym, a few members lounging on the metal chairs and comparing their takes on their phone apps after the last fight of the night had broken up. Refuse littered the floor, Curtis’ booted feet sticking to the glossy wood in places as he crossed to the ring where Jared already stood. In the center. Frowning, Curtis avoided the faulty stairs, instead hoisting himself up on the lip of the ring and stepping over the ropes.
Jared held out his fists.
Frowning at them, Curtis watched as his own touched to Jared’s in an ingrained, automatic response.
Which meant he never saw the first hit coming, along with Jared’s, “The usual.”
Shock taking his brain momentarily offline, Curtis dimly registered the sound of metal chairs hitting the floor as members scrambled out of them. Pain. Heat. The wet feel of his own blood trickling red and thick into his right eye roared into his consciousness, his fists coming up automatically as he ducked Jared’s next blow and countered with one of his own.
“What the fuck, Jared?” Dancing sideways, Curtis nearly tripped over his own boots.
“Shut up and fight, so I can take my whip to your back the way you deserve.” Jared, having kicked off his own loafers somewhere, moved with a speed and grace that Curtis had only seen on him in the few times he’d entered the ring.
And thank fuck, because the man had learned things—maybe from Rhodey or someone equally fucked up—that Curtis never contemplated existing. Or using. Like being tripped into Jared’s backward clothesline so his elbow hit at the Adam’s apple rather than the fleshy part of his arm.
By the time Curtis could take a breath, Jared had gotten in another flurry of hits, on top of him—on the mat. Making himself into as many points of bone as possible, arm barring Jared’s throat, knees coming up, Curtis coughed his way through a series of counter maneuvers that mostly beat the man back.
Another presence in the ring came before Jared could hammer down another punch. With a snarl, Lawson plowed Jared into the ropes, speaking through his teeth. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing? I didn’t approve this. You come to me if you have an issue with one of my men.” He blocked a reflexive punch, returning with one of his own cracking into Jared’s jaw. “Get a hold of yourself or I’ll do it for you.”
Roaring with a fury Curtis had only seen on very few men, Jared shouldered into Lawson’s sternum, right where his surgery scar lay. “He accepted the damned challenge. Get out of my way.”
“Yo, you need to back off.” Cutting between Jared and Lawson with Matt at his side, Reed dodged a hit like he was in there to dance instead of stop the fight Curtis had apparently been invited to without...any warning. “Sir, I love you, but if you go after either of our Doms again, ish is gonna get nasty. Can you maybe chill and tell us what the hell the issue is? Because if not, I can give you a moving target until you calm the fuck down and decide to use your words.”
Matt made it to Lawson’s side the same time Curtis managed to peel himself off the ground and get there himself. “Sir, are you—” Matt looked between them. “Are you both okay?”
Breaths bellowsing, Jared gripped the top rope, turning his back and clearly attempting to calm his temper. Eyeing him sideways, Curtis nodded at Matt, his concern on the blurry image of Lawson. He managed to croak out the words, “I’m fine. Law?”
“Yes.” Lawson braced himself up on one arm, rubbing the center of his chest. He took a few deep breaths. “Talk to me, Jared. You lay one hand on Reed and there will be no coming back from this. Come back to us, my man.”
“He had no right... No right getting Quint that transfer... Making Wren send those tabloids after Trevor...” Jared shook his head hard, twisting around, hands still fisting the ropes, so his cloudy gaze seemed to look at them and not at them all at once. “My boys are mine. You do not give them orders. I only trust...” He frowned, like he knew he’d said something wrong. “Only Rhodey. He knows...how to handle him. How not to...” Breaths coming quicker, Jared sagged a little. “Jesus. Someone has to stop him. Noah. Where’s Noah?”
Members milled around the ring, the entire club seeming to have emptied into the gym. No one spoke, but several held up their phones, filming. Someone coughed. Curtis dragged himself to the edge of the ring, raising his voice. “Quint!”
Closing the distance between himself and Jared, Reed brought his hand to Jared’s cheek. “Sir, please...listen to me. You’re okay. Noah’s with Jamie. And Wren’s safe. Curtis wouldn’t order either of them to do anything that would put them in danger. If you stop for a minute, you’ll see that.” He brushed his fingertips over the side of Jared’s beard. “I’ll get whoever you need. But I’m here, right now. And I’m not gonna let you do anything you’re gonna regret. I’ve got you, sir.”
“Danny.” Jared’s gaze drifted to a spot near the security stairs. “He said... He told me what Curtis did.” Gravel re-entered Jared’s voice, his tone turning dangerous as he searched out Curtis. “How could you, when you know how vulnerable he is? After everything he’s done to keep this place safe at the risk of his own life and freedom? Dammit, Curtis. Just...” He met Reed’s gaze again. “He’s up there now with Avery. Someone has to stop him.”
Reed nodded. “I’ll handle it, sir. But promise me...please, I don’t ask for much. You know Curtis. And you know Danny. I’m not sure what he thought he heard, but there’s no fucking way it was something like that. We’ll figure this out together, all right? We always do.”
Nodding, Jared staggered away from the ropes.
“Reed. Let me get one of the doctors.” Reluctant to say Quint’s name again and risk triggering Jared, Curtis spoke with a vagueness he knew Reed would understand. “Call Dallas. He’s here. Rhodey is at Tracey’s, though I thought he was coming back when he’d heard about Jamie and Wren.”
One supportive hand on Jared’s arm, Reed glanced over at him. Then turned his attention to Matt. “The clinic’s more soundproof than almost anywhere else in here. Go get Quint. I’ll stay with Jared until he takes over, then go check on Wren and Avery.” He looked over the crowd. “Show’s over, motherfuckers. If you’re new here and you wanna be a member, I suggest you not act like complete assholes. If you aren’t, move along. The rest of your drinks for the night are on the house if you show me you deleted whatever you just filmed. Come on, for real? We don’t show your wives and bosses how much you like spanking cute little asses. How ‘bout you show the same respect.”
“So fucking proud of you.” Curtis gave his boy a bleary thumbs up, untangling himself from the ropes as he made his way out of the ring. “Love you, sparkles.”
Reed blew him a kiss, half his focus still on Jared, and on the members who seemed satisfied the show was over and might be experiencing a nice dose of shame for trying to use it as their own personal form of entertainment. The voices were much more subdued as the crowd split between the bar and the dance club.
“Quint?” Curtis hung onto the door knob, leaning into the clinic, calling the sub’s name.
Looking over from where he was flashing a light into Jamie’s eyes and seemed to be reassuring Noah his little cat still had all nine lives, Quint straightened. “Yes, sir?” His eyes widened with shock. “Sir, are you all right? How did I not know you were scheduled for a fight? Your matches are usually a whole event…” Crossing over to him, Quint took a firm hold of his arm and led him to the exam table, sitting him on it in a move that shouldn’t have been possible with how slender the man was compared to him. He grabbed an ice pack and pressed it to Curtis’ forehead. “Hold this here, you look like you got hit by a freakin’ bat. Please tell me it wasn’t an actual bat?”
“Jared.” Just one word. Curtis pressed the ice pack gingerly to his eye, unable to get up now that he’d sat. “Please go out there and help him and Lawson in here? They’re both in rough shape too.”
Quint paled, looking over at Noah as he rose to his feet. “Sir—”
“I’m on it, my boy.” Noah picked Jamie up and sat him on the exam table, next to Curtis. His expression darkened with concern as he looked Curtis over. “Did things get out of control? Damn it, I should have listened to Lawson and limited the amount of potential members we brought in. Will you be all right while I take care of this?”
“Wren’s in the security room fucking up Trevor’s existence. Apparently because of something I don’t remember saying...” Unsure which thing was most important for Noah to get to first, Curtis winced as he glanced toward the door. “I don’t know where Danny went. He’s probably hiding, but...”
Noah shook his head. “That doesn’t matter now. Jamie, be careful for your hands. And make sure Curtis keeps that ice pack on his head. Quint, you stay with them. I’ll go take care of our men.”
“Yes, sir.” Sidling up to Curtis’ hip, Jamie placed a comforting arm around his waist that was reminiscent of their time on the island together. “I know how to take care of him.”
Lips curving, Curtis nudged his arm against Jamie’s shoulder. “That you do, my boy.”
Expression a kind of tender he didn’t often show anymore, Noah inclined his head and headed out of the clinic.
Quint washed his hands, then came over to inspect Curtis’ injuries. “It would help if not everything had to be solved with fists. Which I know is a big ask, since this is a fight club, but...a conversation would be nice.” He sighed and shook his head, pressing something that stung against Curtis’ temple. “This won’t need stitches, so that’s something. I need more ice for your throat. Remind me to spar with you one day, sir. You need practice keeping your guard up.”
“I thought he was showing me a broken rope.” Touching his throat with his fingertips, Curtis winced. “I didn’t expect the Spanish Inquisition... Or whatever that was.” He motioned vaguely with his right arm toward the door. “Talk about blindsided. I was down before I knew he was going to hit me. Friendly fire. Or fists. But not so friendly tonight.”
Looking up as Matt came in with Lawson, followed by Noah with Jared, Quint pressed his eyes shut, his lips moving in what looked like a silent prayer. “I guess five hours is better than nothing. Matt, can you go tell Pike to get Seth? I need backup.”
“Can do.” Helping Lawson lower onto the second exam table, Matt nodded over his shoulder. “Do you need a warm blanket, sir?”
Lawson shook his head and patted Matt’s arm. “I’m fine, my love. I’ve taken worse hits. Go on, I’ll keep an eye on these two and make sure there are no...further misunderstandings.”
Lips thinning, Matt pointedly didn’t look in Jared’s direction. The normally sweetly sloping angle to his jaw jutted forward, the man clearly having won no points in the sub’s book. “Yes, sir.” Muttering something under his breath as he left that sounded like, “Something something dark alley...” Matt let the clinic door shut behind him.
Jamie rubbed the small of Curtis’ back, speaking quietly. “I coulda warned you not to piss off Jared, sir. It never ends well.”
“I’m not sure exactly what happened, but yes, for once, I agree with you, Lawson. It was likely a misunderstanding.” Noah crouched down in front of Jared, holding a bunched up bandage he’d grabbed for his bottom lip, where Lawson’s fist had left an impact. “How are you, my love? Can you tell me what happened?”
Gaze drifting toward the door, Jared braced himself on hands he curved over the table’s padded edge. “Danny...his exact wording when I asked was that Curtis had said ‘something about targeting Trevor and anyone connected to him’ to Wren. That he didn’t ‘know the details’ but that Wren had permission...to paraphrase here, from Curtis.” At that last part, Jared swung his head so he pinpointed Curtis with his equivalent of a silent curse. An evil eye. “Which might have been his idea of a joke, thinking Avery wouldn’t let Wren go too far, but dammit. I thought you’d grown out of this kind of behavior. I’m furious and disappointed. How can you look yourself in the eye shaving in the morning?”
“I don’t know...is that why you stopped?” The words left Curtis’ mouth before he thought about it, his pride stinging like Quint had poured salt into his wounds.
“Sirs, no offense, but this conversation has become less than productive.” Quint not so gently angled Curtis’ head to one side, cutting off his view of Jared as he put butterfly stitches close to Curtis’ hairline. “Let’s try this. Curtis, did you tell Wren to do something Vani would smack you for herself if she heard about this? And it wouldn’t be with her hand. If you were lucky, it would be with the back of an ax.”
Jamie shuddered, his small lithe frame pressing closer to Curtis’ side. “I hate when I picture things from Wren’s horror movies. That visual was a face punch all its own.”
Brushing a kiss to the top of Jamie’s head, Curtis tightened his left arm around Noah’s boy. “No. I didn’t. What I recall saying, at any rate, as I handed Trevor’s phone to Avery for Wren to erase the video from, was that it’d be useful.”
“Hmm.” Noah studied Jared’s face, then glanced over his shoulder at Quint. “I appreciate you trying to keep the peace, but don’t traumatize my boy while doing so. And things were very hectic tonight. With Jamie having faced off against Trevor and Keiran having to deal with him after, both Wren and Avery would’ve been looking for any excuse to do their part.”
“I agree, but if it pleases you, sir?” Quint gave Noah a level look. “While you’re in my clinic, I’ll handle things how I feel is necessary. His lip will have stopped bleeding by now. Get him some ice.”
If the night hadn’t already been seven kinds of fucked up, Curtis would’ve rubbed his hands together with a certain amount of glee to see what Noah might do in response to a statement like that from a Dom, never mind a sub. As it was, however, Curtis sent a little prayer to the fuckers upstairs that Noah had his wits about him, because things getting more interesting wasn’t exactly on his plan for the evening. Two pain relievers and more ice, on the other hand. That would be good.
Noah’s eyes narrowed. “Be careful with that mouth, Quint. If I need to, I’ll shut it for you.”
“Yes, sir. You’ve tried. The first time, you were successful. The next, I saw you coming.” Quint gestured to a large metal drawer. “The ice packs are in there. When it pleases you, sir. It would greatly reduce the pain the man you love is in, but I wouldn’t want to overstep.”
Turning his face into Curtis’ arm, Jamie palpably winced, muttering, “I can’t look.”
One hand on Noah’s arm, Jared squeezed lightly. “Clinic rules, love. He’s a doctor in here first. Sub second.”
Audibly grinding his teeth, Noah rubbed Jared’s arm, then went to fetch the ice pack.
Before he could open his mouth, Lawson spoke up. “Just stop. You don’t need to make any power moves right now to get things back under control, Noah. Quint’s right. And he doesn’t need to tiptoe around your fucking ego to care for his patients.”
“This isn’t about my goddamn ego.” Noah’s gaze snapped to Lawson. Then he stopped, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, as though the sight of Lawson rubbing his chest had cracked through whatever headspace he’d been bricking himself behind. “It’s not, my man. But...yes, I’ll...take a step back. We can get through this.” He pressed the ice pack to Jared’s cheek. “I need you in one piece...all of you. So let’s...hold it together.”
“I don’t understand how it is that Curtis’ and Danny’s stories are so wildly different...” Jared lifted his hand to shift the ice pack and Noah’s hand a little higher with a grateful look. “I’m sorry, Curtis. It would have been something you’d done at one time. Even you have to admit. And Danny isn’t the type to simply make things up to cause trouble.”
“He’s awesome at coming up with story lyrics. You know, the kinds that are part of Broadway shows, or nineteen-seventies ballads like the Edmund Fitzgerald. Only happier. That song would totally freak him out.” Jamie tipped his head up, peeking from where he’d been speaking into Curtis’ arm. “That song Brandy had him crying so hard when we were little that we had to cancel a show. Our manager used to hide the radio and only let us listen to supervised stations until we got older.”
Curtis wasn’t sure how this was relevant, exactly, but... “Different perspectives?”
“Or the worst game of telephone.” Noah inspected Jared’s face, then held his gaze. “Danny wasn’t there when it happened. I was. And I should have considered Wren might misinterpret the suggestions—I was the one who told him to make sure there were no videos leaked, but I heard what Curtis said. I didn’t see an issue with it. Maybe...part of me knew what he could do and was hoping… That’s no excuse. I’m sorry, my man. I was proud of Jamie and...I didn’t handle things as well as I should have. Leaving a sub to watch another sub never ends well.”
Making a frustrated sound, Jared shook his head. The line of his shoulders was no longer rigid, but his eyes squeezed shut. “Rhodey trusts Avery to do what’s necessary when he’s not around, without this level of error, so we do as well. It’s hardly something any of us would’ve thought twice about entrusting to the sub.”
“Yes. The sub.” Quint pressed two pills into Curtis’ palm, then handed him a small paper cup of water he’d prepared during the discussion. “Avery is a young man and he’s a submissive. He also cares a great deal for many here and he does not always have the...capacity to hold back when given an opportunity to defend them. I see this as no different than Jamie beating another man in the middle of the dance club. It might have not been the best course of action, but it was the one that seemed right when someone they loved was threatened. And I can’t fault either of them. You are not Doms dealing with passive little wallflowers. Each one of us are capable of standing by you when necessary. And it’s why we can be exactly where you need us. But we will make mistakes at times, when the guidance isn’t there. All we have to offer is the best we have at the time.”
“Nicely said, my love.” Jared smiled crookedly at Quint, one side of his face swelling. “I owe you an apology. Curtis. Lawson. I—”
The door opened, Matt coming in with his hair windswept and eyes darting. Breathless, like he’d run around the building twice, and perhaps up and down all of its stairways, he pinpointed Lawson with his gaze. “I can’t find him. I can’t find Pike.”
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What? Where did he get to? And kinda nice to see Jared not being all and such but my heart hurt for him recounting so many things in the ring 💔
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