Trust - Sean Michael.pdf

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Trust
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and
incidents either are the product of the author's
imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to
actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living
or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of
either the author or the publisher.
Trust
Torquere Press Publishers
PO Box 2545
Round Rock, TX 78680
Copyright 2012 by Sean Michael
Cover illustration by S. Squires
Published with permission
ISBN: 978-1-61040-300-9
www.torquerepress.com
All rights reserved, which includes the right to
reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form
whatsoever except as provided by the U.S. Copyright
Law. For information address Torquere Press. Inc., PO
Box 2545, Round Rock, TX 78680.
First Torquere Press Printing: April 2012
Printed in the USA
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Trust, a Hammer story
By Sean Michael
Chapter One
"Kerry Daniels? Kerry, is that you, son?"
Kerry looked up, shocked at the sound of his name.
He'd been in the park for almost two weeks, and no one
had recognized him.
Frank Harrod, the former cop. Damn.
"That is you." Frank came to stand next to him.
"Kerry, what are you doing out here?"
"Sleeping. What are you up to?" God, this was
embarrassing.
"I'm headed to the Hammer to meet my lover." Frank
frowned at him. "Why are you sleeping in the park,
son?"
"No worries. Just tired." And cold. Dirty. Totally
fucked and homeless, but that was the story of the times.
"Your lover? Really? Who?" He patted the bench beside
him.
Frank sat. "His name is Gordon. He's a good man.
Where is yours?" Frank asked pointedly. Kerry had
never known the man to pussy foot around.
"We moved to Miami. He... There was a girl. Now
there's a baby. I..." Kerry shrugged. "I came home."
His little Ford had made it to Yuma and he'd had to
sell it for scrap. He'd used that money to get to the coast,
but... Yeah.
He was never going to belong to anyone. Not ever
again.
Frank's eyes went wide, his nostrils flared. "He
moved you away from everyone you knew and then
threw you over for a girl?" Frank's fists creaked.
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"It's okay. I'm making it." He'd swept floors in a diner
yesterday for a burger, and it wasn't freezing out here. It
was hard to get a job without a phone or anything.
"Tell you what, Kerry. I'm headed down to meet
Gordon at the club. You come with me."
"No. No, I couldn't." He couldn't afford it.
"My treat and don't bother to argue." Frank stood.
"Come on."
"Frank, I can't..."
"Of course you can. You get up and you come with
me. You know I'm not going anywhere until you do."
"I'm going to be okay." He took Frank's hand.
"Really."
Frank only grunted. "I'm more inclined to believe that
if I've put a hot meal in your belly."
He almost shook his head, but he was hungry, tired,
and a little scared, so he'd take it. "Okay, for you."
"Good boy." Frank tucked him under one arm and,
god, the man was so warm.
"I'm not a boy." He pulled away, even though he
didn't want to. "I'm not, okay?" Never again. He was
never depending on anyone again.
"Okay. Come here, Kerry. Your lips are blue." Frank
tugged him close again. "I want you to meet Gordon."
Frank's hand moved up and down along his arm; it
wasn't sexual or anything, just warm.
"I can't believe you're a member of the Hammer
now." Frank hadn't been... subby.
"Gordon's the member. I've always been welcome
there, though."
"You have. It's a good place."
"They're good men." They were almost there, and
Frank nodded to the doorman and led him right in.
"Most of them are, yes."
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"Yeah, your former master not included." Frank
hugged him close as the warmth of the club hit them.
Then Frank's voice got louder as they went straight to
the bar. "Xavier? Xavier, man, look who I found! You
remember Kerry? He worked here before?"
"Oh my." Xavier's eyes went wide.
A man at the bar stood and waved them closer. "A
beer for Frank and something hot for his friend, please,
Xavier."
He looked away from Xavier, who had to remember
him younger, in better shape.
"Kerry's had a rough couple of months; I told him I'd
buy him supper," Frank told the standing man.
"The club does an amazing steak. Shall we get a
table?"
Frank nodded, kissed the man's cheek. "Sounds great,
babe."
The place looked good -- it hadn't changed much, the
space still warm, cozy. Friendly. He sighed softly,
hoping no one noticed him.
They headed for a corner table, the man who had to
be Frank's Gordon leading the way. "You need the
facilities, Kerry?"
Kerry nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I need to wash up, huh?"
Frank winked. "Couldn't hurt. You want your steak
medium?"
"Medium well, please."
"You got it."
"Thank you." He walked to the bathroom, head
down. He was filthy; he knew it. He'd been sneaking
into the McDonalds to wash in the sink.
He'd forgotten just how big and classy the bathrooms
were here. There were even two little shower stalls at the
far end.
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