After the death of their mother, Frank “Saint” Jeffrey knew the
only way to protect his younger brother was to strike a deal with
their autocratic, cruel, abusive father. In exchange for his
brother’s freedom to live his life as he wished, Saint promised to
follow in his father’s footsteps and become a preeminent surgeon in
his father’s medical practice. When events he never could have
predicted took away Saint’s ability to perform surgery, the bargain
became null and void. With no safety net, and a life without purpose,
Saint moved across the country, bought a wreck of a building in DTLA,
and hoped while resurrecting the property he’d find a reason to live
again. Then Max Connor entered his life, and Saint was dragged from
the darkness of desolation into the light of love.

Once they walked out into the fresh air and yellow glow of the streetlights, Saint did the one

thing he’d been desperate to do since meeting the man outside his building. He pushed Max

against the side of the nearest stone archway and took his lips in a deep kiss. Max responded

immediately, opening his mouth to let Saint in to explore.

Their tongues dueled as Max’s hands cupped Saint’s ass, pulling their hard cocks together.

This time the rubbing heightened Saint’s need as he moaned long and low.

“Hey, Max. Take your boyfriend home before you two get arrested.” A laughing voice broke

into the haze surrounding them. Saint had been moments away from reaching into Max’s

waistband and taking hold of the hard cock he’d felt grinding against his. He didn’t know who’d

yelled at them, but he wanted to kill him.

They broke apart, and the sight before Saint did nothing to cool his rampaging thoughts.

Max’s irises were blown wide open and only a sliver of green remained. His lips were red and

slightly swollen, but the smile of absolute joy on his face was breathtaking.

“Let’s get back to the building,” Max said as he adjusted himself and led Saint back out onto

the street. “I have so many things I want to do with you.”

Saint followed and was a bit stunned that he was actually feeling a happy anticipation for the

first time in what felt like forever. The building was only a few blocks over, and along the way

the two stopped to kiss and touch as often as possible. Finally, he allowed himself to be in the

moment—no worries, no pain, only the two of them.

They rounded the corner to his building. Excitement rushed through his veins as his heart

raced and his cheeks hurt from smiling so much. His life was turning around, starting anew, and

he couldn’t wait to take it by both hands.

As suddenly as it arrived, all traces of joy vanished as Saint was struck motionless at the

sight before him. Anger and terror took over his body when he saw the black town car parked in

front of his building. The clawing hands of dread strangled all vestiges of happiness out of him

as one of the back doors opened and the man who had single-handedly destroyed his life stepped

out onto the sidewalk.

His father. Dr. Thomas Jeffrey.

Finn’s entire body ached. He’d had a fever for the past two days, and chills had crept in hours

ago. The nausea and vomiting were draining him to the point that he didn’t want to move. The

blisters on his forearms had drained onto the four-by-four dressings he’d received from a

volunteer nurse at the half-day clinic over on Maple. Unfortunately, he didn’t have the energy to

walk the four blocks to the clinic for new dressings, and the muscle spasms in his legs made it

painful to even turn on his side. His elbow throbbed and swelled more every day, making him

worry about infection.

In truth, he wasn’t sure what was wrong, but the nurse had given him a prescription for

antibiotics. He’d never filled it due to the cost, but he was beginning to wonder if that had been

such a smart decision.

“How you feeling this morning, kid?” Marian asked as she sat down beside his cardboard

shelter. Marian had a tent beside him and had been friends with Buck before his death.

Finn had been wandering around for days, resting when he could find a safe place, moving

along whenever someone yelled at him to get his homeless ass off their sidewalk. He found

Marian on the third day and had been bunked beside her tent ever since.

“I’m okay. A bit tired, but I’ll be fine.” Buck had taught him never to show weakness. Said

the vultures would begin circling.

“Okay, sweetie. I’ll go get us something to eat from the Mission, maybe that will help.”

“Thanks, Marian.”

Finn was more than grateful for Marian. Without her, Finn would be at the mercy of any

number of dangers. He didn’t know why he had been fortunate enough to find self-appointed

protectors, but he never turned away the help. He swore that once he started to feel better he’d

find some odd jobs and take care of Marian like he’d done with Buck.

The sound of her steps faded as she walked away until they disappeared altogether. The one

thing he had spent a little money on was his sleeping bag. It was thick and warm, and Finn

settled his pounding head and sore neck back down onto his soft cocoon. The heavy cardboard

that had been used to transport refrigerators was his only wall and roof.

A light rain lulled Finn into a half-sleep while listening to vehicles splashing in puddles as

they drove by. He and his fellow homeless were invisible to the world, forgotten, and alone.

As he drifted, his mind wandered to his happy place: Miguel. Even though the handsome

man didn’t see Finn the same way, it made no difference now as he lay in his wet cardboard

shelter. He chose to concentrate on the good memories and prayed that nothing had happened to

the big guy and that he made it home safe. He treasured his memories of those stormy blue eyes

and the feeling of being in his strong arms. He doubted he would ever forget.

He hung on to the shadow sensations as his vision blurred and he slipped into a restless sleep.

Vaguely, he remembered Marian returning and placing a cellophane-wrapped sandwich beside

him but he was too tired to bother eating. All Finn wanted was to sleep and dream as he tucked

down deeper into his sleeping bag. Tomorrow he’d venture out and try to reach the clinic. For

now, he’d wait it out here in his soggy cardboard mansion.

When he woke again it was dark and he could hear a commotion getting closer to his spot on

the sidewalk. He tried to get up but his muscles felt like they’d seized stiff, and his neck and jaw

were painful to move.

“What the hell? Back off, asshole,” someone yelled to his right. “Get out of my home.”

People were yelling and things began crashing around him. His cardboard shelter was ripped

away from on top of him. His eyes were having a hard time adjusting to the bright light shining

at him. There was no way he could identify the person above him, but he assumed it had to be

the cops until he spoke.

“Here you are. What a good boy for doing what you were told. You may have gotten away

for a few days, but I have you all to myself now. Don’t worry, I’m here to take away all your

suffering.” The unmistakable click of a gun being cocked seemed to echo in the dark. Finn no

longer heard the yelling still going on in the background.

The voice was unfamiliar, but Finn knew deep down that his stalker had found him. He

choked out one word, “Why?” Finn didn’t care who it was anymore, he just wanted to know

what had he done to cause someone to hate him so much to want to kill him.

Tires squealed and the light blinding him suddenly vanished, leaving Finn in the blessed dark

once again. Vehicle doors opened and closed and Finn thought he’d heard voices vaguely

familiar. His legs seized tight again, making him groan out in pain. What the hell was wrong

with him?

Heavy boots were headed his way but Finn didn’t care anymore. Let his attacker come back

and finish the job. The world would never miss one more homeless man.