Jade Archer - Sandpipers 2 - Raven's Mark (3 page)

Chapter Two
Two weeks later

Raven breathed in. Then he breathed out. Then he repeated the process and tried very hard not to think about what he was about to do.
Walking the final three steps to the front door of Brody, Lark and Zak’s apartment had been hard, but he’d managed it. Ringing the bell was just an extension of that. Really.
It was just a kid’s birthday party. Children and maybe a few parents and—
No! Don’t think about it!
—the strangers and their questions and the looks as he struggled to get words out. The eyes that seemed to see right into his deepest, most shameful secrets.
All he had to do was walk to the door. Ring the bell. Wait for the door to open and say—
Okay, he was getting ahead of himself again. He could feel the panic rising up from his belly, squeezing his heart and making it hard to breathe.
Stop!
Breathe in. Breathe out.
Relax.
He’d come this far, he could make it the next few inches to the buzzer.
Beside him, Ryan gripped his hand a little tighter as they hovered at the threshold. It gave Raven the final push he needed to depress the innocuous little button that had almost defeated him. It also gave him something else to focus on as the muffled chime sounded on the other side of the door, drawing him away from the spiralling fear racing through his system and threatening to overwhelm him.
The little hand in his was all that mattered. He had to hold it together for Ryan’s sake. With every breath in his body he was determined his son would grow up healthy, strong and…normal.
Raven shifted nervously in place.
Damn!
Talk about setting himself up for the task of the century. He didn’t even know what normal looked like anymore. He wouldn’t know it if it walked up to him, smacked him upside the head and started lecturing him on how far away from ever being normal he was.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
“Do you think Wolf will like my present, Daddy?”
Raven looked down at the serious little face tilted up to regard him with big brown eyes. The only indication Ryan was just as nervous about coming to Wolf’s party as Raven was the way he clung to him fiercely, his hand white-knuckle tight around Raven’s fingers. Other than that, Ryan’s expression was completely blank and bland. He was already so good at hiding everything deep inside.
And Raven absolutely hated it.
Leaning over, Raven made sure he looked the little boy right in the eye. “You worked very h-hard on Wolf’s gift, Ryan. You did well.”
Shit
. That didn’t sound right. Was that what a father said to ease his child’s mind? Did it work?
Ryan studied him for a few seconds, before nodding his head—expression still serious, but accepting. Raven breathed a sigh of relief. Another test passed. For now. Maybe.
Suddenly, the door swung open and Zak’s huge, broad-shouldered frame filled the doorway. Raven straightened and locked his knees—it was the only way he managed to hold his ground.
They’d met Zak a few times now—coming and going from preschool and when Ryan had been invited over to play—but the big man was still incredibly intimidating. Only his clear, light green eyes and gentle expression helped to stave off Raven’s descent into true, debilitating terror. He sensed that Zak would never hurt him. Hell, intellectually he knew most people wouldn’t. Unfortunately the instinct and knowledge that told him to be calm was doing battle with years of experience. And the contradictory messages were messing him up completely.
Thankfully, Zak was focused on Ryan at the moment, giving Raven time to compose himself.
“Hello, Ryan. Come in, we’re just getting started.” Ryan held up the present he’d so very carefully chosen and wrapped to the big man. But Zak simply smiled and stepped back. “It’s okay. Why don’t you go in and give it to Wolf? He’s in the living room.”
Raven was so grateful the present hadn’t been whisked away he almost sighed with relief. He really wanted Ryan to give the gift to Wolf himself. He was desperate for the boys to connect. Wolf was the only one Ryan had responded to with even a tentative attempt at friendship since they’d arrived in Riversands over eight months ago. So far things had been going well between the two of them, but it never hurt to reinforce the success with a little gift giving.
As he watched Ryan walk hesitantly down the hallway he held his breath—well aware this was the point at which it could go either way. The noisy, rambunctious sounds of young children playing seemed to stop Ryan for a moment, but finally he took the plunge and moved into the living room.
A swell of pride filled Raven as he watched his son disappear. He knew exactly how hard that had been for Ryan.
Glancing up, Raven noticed Zak watching him with a curious expression he couldn’t quite read. It looked like it was his turn to be brave.
“Hi.” He had to force the word out of his suddenly desert-dry mouth. And still it came out far too soft.
Raven winced deep inside. He hated when he sounded weak and pathetic. Unfortunately, it happened all too frequently. He just couldn’t make his vocal cords work like he wanted them to when he talked to other people.
“It’s nice to see you again, Raven.” Zak held out his hand to shake and Raven managed to return the gesture, albeit somewhat awkwardly.
Damn! He needed something to say. Something to fill the gap. He remembered the relief he’d felt that nobody was hurt when an intruder had broken into the family’s apartment a few weeks earlier. The details were vague, but apparently he’d been some fanatic with an axe to grind when Zak and Lark had added Brody to their relationship and formed a ménage á trois.
“I…umm…I h-heard what happened…in the paper…with the guy that tried to… I just wanted to say…glad you’re okay.”
Well that hadn’t gone too well. Raven felt his cheeks heat with shame.
Why can’t you get even one simple sentence right?

Even as the thought occurred, he felt his muscles tighten. Blast! The voice he’d heard in his head sounded hauntingly familiar—the sharp, claw-like hooks of criticism still raking him, every bit as capable of leaving him bruised and battered as the physical abuse ever had. And after he’d been so determined to put it all behind him, to not let the past control him anymore.

“Thanks,” Zak said. “It could have been a lot worse. I’m just glad it didn’t seem to have any long-term effects on Wolf.”
Raven nodded, lowering his eyes. Yeah, no long-term effect on Wolf was good. He wanted to hope the same thing for Ryan, but he wasn’t sure he had the right to. The guilt of how long it had taken him to get his act together, to be even half the man Ryan needed as a father, ate away at him every day.
Suddenly, Lark appeared—a bright, flamboyant distraction that was more than welcome, heading down the hallway towards them. It was strange, but Raven actually found himself relaxing a little as Lark approached. Normally, he’d be on tenterhooks waiting for something bad to happen at this point, but nothing about Lark was in any way threatening or frightening. Quite the opposite, in fact. Over the last couple of weeks of bringing Ryan over to play with Wolf, he’d actually found himself looking forward to seeing Lark. And Brody, too. He hoped—once he got to know him better—he’d be able to relax around Zak as well.
He wasn’t exactly sure how it had happened. It had literally been years since he’d had a friend. Years since he’d been
able
to have one. But everything about Lark and Brody screamed…happy. It attracted Raven like nothing else could have. Not in a sexual way, although Brody and Lark were certainly handsome enough for him to notice. It was more something deep inside him that gravitated towards them—perhaps hoping some of their natural ease and contentment might rub off.
The really incredible thing was, Lark and Brody never treated him differently. They never looked at him like he was a moron when he stammered, or glanced away with pity or disgust when he got nervous or embarrassed. They just treated him…normally. It was wonderful.
“Hi, Raven. I’m so glad you could come,” Lark announced with a dazzling smile Raven found himself returning, if somewhat tentatively. “Would you mind helping Mark in the kitchen for a second? I really think he could use a hand, but Zak and I need to get the games organised before the revellers revolt.”
There was an ear-splitting squeal from the living room and Raven felt his heart race at the sound. He half expected Ryan to come flying out to him, but apparently his son was made of stronger stuff. Several loud thumps and another bout of high-pitched laughter, however, convinced Raven he needed to head straight to the kitchen. He didn’t even feel like a coward as he hurried away, having seen the pained look on Zak’s face. He was just damn grateful Lark had given him an out.
Moving down the hall, Raven let the delicious smell of food draw him along. He hadn’t been up to eating before they’d left for the party, too nervous to force down more than a slice of dry toast all day. Now his stomach was telling him in no uncertain terms he was starving. His head felt thick and slow, like molasses on a cold day. The rich smell of tomato, herbs and the mouth-watering scent of bacon, fried onion and garlic called to him.
It wasn’t until he’d stepped through the doorway that Lark’s words finally registered.
Help Mark
…a stranger. Well, sort of a stranger. He knew Mark—had caught glimpses of him that were both unnerving and thrilling. The very notion of coming face to face with and actually
talking
to him, however, should have made him feel physically ill. Instead, all he could focus on as he stepped into the kitchen was the tight pair of faded blue jeans stretched across a deliciously firm ass bent over at the oven.
Raven felt a little flutter of excitement as he stared at the hard globes. Then the man turned around and the flutter turned into a vicious stab of lust that buried itself deep in his gut.
Short blond hair, piercing summer sky blue eyes, solid muscles packed under golden tanned skin that seemed to glow against the stark white of his T-shirt. Mark was…
No!
No, this couldn’t happen.
Damn! Damn! Damn! Damn!
There were so many reasons he shouldn’t be attracted to Mark—or indeed anyone—not the least of which was the fact he should be concentrating on raising Ryan. But apparently his body was bypassing all higher brain functions in favour of drooling and panting after the hottest guy he’d seen in a very long time.

* * * *

Mark bustled about putting the finishing touches to the party food. It wasn’t exactly a challenge. In fact, he could have done it in his sleep. But he prided himself on perfect presentation and service every time, even for a five-year-old’s birthday party. So he happily lost himself in the work. Besides, it helped keep his mind off why he was really here.

Raven. Beautiful, mysterious, devil’s-own-job-to-pin-down Raven.
And he
had
tried.
Several times over the last couple of weeks, in fact, he’d tried to instigate a conversation

with the man. But Raven always ducked away, completely focused and preoccupied with either bringing Wolf home from preschool or dropping off his son to play.

It didn’t take a huge leap to figure out Raven was avoiding him. But his elusive behaviour only made Mark more determined to get to know the man behind the big brown eyes and timid attitude. Manipulating his way into helping out today had been a final desperate attempt to catch more than a fleeting glimpse of a dark head of hair as it vanished out the door again. And Lark had been only too happy to have an extra pair of hands. In fact, he’d seemed downright ecstatic.

Mark frowned. Maybe a little too ecstatic…which could be a worry. He hadn’t known Lark long, but already he’d picked up on the fact Lark liked to be in the thick of things. Or put less politely, he was a meddler. Perhaps with the best of intentions—Lark didn’t seem to have a mean bone in his body—but the idea of him trying to ‘fix them up’ still didn’t sit well.

The timer on the oven sounded, announcing the pizza fingers were ready and distracting Mark from the terrifying notion of Lark getting involved in his love life. He suppressed a shiver as he snagged the dish cloth from the front pocket of his jeans, pulled the pizza trays out of the oven, spun around and…froze.

Raven. Standing completely motionless right there in the same room. Staring at him. So magnificent. And finally close enough to actually talk to.
Wow, he was gorgeous. Really stunningly gorgeous.
“Hi,” Mark managed…right before the pain of still holding the hot pizza tray with only a thin dish cloth finally registered. “Ow! Ow! Ow!”
The tray made a dull, metallic clatter as he tossed it on the waiting cutting board.
Shit!
That was telling. Burns were pretty much a part of the territory for a chef. But he hadn’t let himself get distracted and done something that stupid in a
very
long time.
“Are you okay?”
Raven’s soft voice, almost inaudible and filled with concern, washed over him. Predictably the sound went straight to his cock. When Raven took a few hesitant steps towards him, the unruly organ started to twitch and stir. Thank the Lord he was wearing tight jeans.
“You should p-probably run some cold water over it.”
“Huh?”
“Your b-burn.”
“Oh!” Mark snapped out of his lust-filled daze
.
“Nah! It’s fine. I’ve been working in kitchen so long my hands are pretty much asbestos lined.”
Raven blushed and looked away. “Sorry. I m-mean… I know you…know what you’re d-d-doing.”
Shit! Way to make a first impression and put the man at ease.
“So…ah…it’s Raven, right?”
“Yes.”
“I’m Mark.”
“I know.” Raven’s pale cheeks flushed a dark red at the admission and he quickly looked away. “Lark asked me to c-come and help you.”
Mark raised an eyebrow at the idea. There was no way Lark could possibly think he needed help—he’d been right there in the interview when Mark was hired, reading the résumé that spelled out exactly how much experience he had as a chef. He’d run kitchens catering for hundreds. Organising food for this party simply didn’t register as requiring any help.
He was definitely going to have to watch Lark. However, in this instance, he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.
“Sure. Um…” Looking around, he desperately tried to think of something for Raven to do. Preferably something that would keep him close. “You want to help me plate up these pizzas?”
It was a completely lame suggestion, but there wasn’t anything else that needed doing. Everything was pretty much ready to go. Fortunately, Raven merely nodded and stepped up to stand beside him at the counter…just as Mark had hoped.
And damn if it didn’t feel good. He couldn’t explain his attraction to Raven and didn’t really care to. Something about the man just drew him in. And he let it. He liked the subtle citrusy scent that surrounded Raven. The intense look in his intelligent brown eyes. The warmth that he could feel radiating off Raven’s skin.
If he leaned ever so slightly to the side they’d brush shoulders. Which was odd. He’d thought Raven was shorter.
Glancing down, he noticed the abnormally thick-soled boots on Raven’s feet. They easily added a good inch or so to his height. Which meant Raven
would
be shorter than him by a few inches if he ever managed to get him naked. It was a decidedly caveman-like notion, but he couldn’t help liking the idea. A lot.
Even as the salacious thought ran away with his imagination, Mark watched Raven follow his gaze down. Instantly, all the colour drained from Raven’s face. He looked back up and the only description Mark could come up with was pure terror.
“I f-f-forgot,” Raven whispered in horror. “I f-forgot to take my b-boots off.”
“It’s okay—”
“I’m s-sorry. I’m s-sorry.”
Raven stumbled back, and Mark reached out to support him. But Raven only cringed away farther, ducking his head and raising his hands to protect himself.
With Raven struggling and panting for breath, Mark took a small step back, making sure to stay close enough to intervene if Raven started to fall, but not crowding him. “It’s okay, Raven. Breathe. Just breathe.”
“I didn’t m-mean to,” Raven said in a small, shaky voice that somehow managed to sound far away.
“You’re okay, Raven. Look…I’ve got my boots on too. You shouldn’t work in a kitchen without good shoes. Just breathe. Slow and easy. You’re okay.”
Raven looked white now, shaking and still struggling for breath. One hand clutched the front of his shirt over his heart, while the other reached out to steady himself against the counter.
Mark swallowed down his own anxiety and continued to talk, repeatedly reassuring Raven he was all right as he waited for it to be true.
Suddenly, Lark burst into the room. His usual energetic bounce disappeared in an instant when he spotted Raven. “Are you alright?”
“Raven’s fine,” Mark hurried to interject, shooting Lark a look over Raven’s bowed head, hoping to cut the barrage of questions off. The last thing Raven needed to think about in the middle of a panic attack was whether or not he was all right. “He just needs somewhere quiet for a few minutes.”
“Oh! Ah…sure. I…the study. Come down to the study, Raven.”
Mark didn’t want to leave Raven’s side. Not like this. He tried not to hover, but at the same time he didn’t want Lark to take Raven away either.
“The food’s all ready to go. Do you think you could get it out to the kids while I sit with Raven for a bit?” he suggested quickly.
Lark eyed Raven for a second, then nodded. “Um…sure. I mean as long as Raven’s okay with that.”
Mark held his breath, desperately hoping Raven wouldn’t send him away. It seemed to take forever, but finally Raven nodded—slightly erratically but a definite yes to letting him stay. It was enough of an answer for a firm punch of relief—infused with a little hope—to hit Mark in the solar plexus and for Lark to back away slightly.
“Okay then. Do you need anything?” Lark asked, still watching Raven closely and sounding reluctant to let him out of his sight.
“Not right now,” Mark replied.
Zak’s study was a quiet, restful room—a good choice for somewhere Raven could collect himself. But not if Lark was fussing and fretting over him.
Guiding Raven away without crowding him was tricky, but soon they were heading down the hall in the right direction.
“S-sorry,” Raven whispered.
“Nothing to be sorry for. You back?” Mark asked.
“Yeah.”
But Mark noticed Raven looked pale and clammy. And he was still struggling a little for breath, his hand still clenched in a fist over his heart. Mark had enough experience with his mother’s panic attacks to recognise the symptoms and know that Raven wasn’t quite out of the woods yet.
“You’re doing fine,” he continued to murmur.
After settling Raven on the couch, Mark sat beside him. And for a moment he wasn’t sure what to do. He knew what he wanted to do. He wanted to reach out and take Raven’s hand, to hold on until he was sure Raven really was going to be okay. It was a strong, slightly disconcerting compulsion, and he was pretty sure it would freak Raven right out if he followed through with it. Then, of course, there was the little voice that reminded him over and over again,
you really don’t know jack about this guy
.
So instead he quietly talked nonsense—words and sentences he knew he’d never remember later—and tried not to think about how much he wanted to touch Raven right then. He couldn’t help enjoying having Raven sitting beside him, however—so close and finally not running away. That was a pretty big deal in itself.
Finally, Raven seemed to calm. The trembling stopped. His breathing settled into a steady, slower rhythm.
“This happen often?” Mark asked quietly.
“No.” Raven flushed with embarrassment and went to shift away. “S-s-sometimes.”
“Hey. It’s okay,” Mark rushed to reassure, reluctant to let Raven go too far and even more reluctant to let him retreat in on himself again. Raven stared at him, his eyes wide and uncertain.
It was Mark’s turn to feel the creeping heat of a blush rising up into his cheeks. He’d heard the little hint of desperation in his voice too, but he refused to look away. Not now that Raven was actually looking him in the eye.
“So what do you do? For a living, I mean,” Mark blurted, hoping to get Raven talking and keep him where he was for just a little longer.
“I’m a freelance t-t-technical writer.”
“Sounds interesting.” Mark didn’t have a clue what a freelance technical writer was, but at least Raven was talking. It was a big step forward, but he didn’t want to push too hard.
Raven shrugged and looked away. “It can be. I m-mostly do software and data mmanagement work.”
“So you work with computers?”
“Yeah. Sort of. I h-help people understand their way through the techno b-babble. Write manuals and reports. That sort of th-thing.”
Which meant Raven was smart. Much smarter than he was—he’d barely made it through high school. Mark studied Raven. Even with his good looks and obvious intelligence, there was no air of superiority about him. Mark had the feeling Raven simply wasn’t the type. And he liked that. It was unusual in his experience. Most of the smart, good looking guys he’d met knew it and had their heads firmly up their asses.
But just when he was working himself up to asking Raven what sort of things he liked to do when he
wasn’t
busy being a technical writer—edging slowly towards finding a way to ask the shy man out—a small dark-haired head poked around the study door.
Ryan.
“Daddy?”
Immediately, Raven’s entire demeanour changed. He straightened in his seat and squared his shoulders, seeming to pull himself together in an instant by sheer force of will. And as he opened his arms, Ryan flew into the embrace.
“Hey, Ryan. How ya d-doing, buddy?” Raven asked softly.
“Good.”
The pair hugged fiercely, Ryan studying Mark with big brown eyes so like Raven’s the entire time.
“Hello, Ryan,” Mark said, hoping to break the ice.
“Hello.”
“This is Mr…” Raven shifted nervously. “I’m s-sorry. I d-don’t know your last name.”
“Mark Carter. But Mark is fine.”
Raven and Ryan both nodded.
“How long are we staying, Daddy?”
“Until f-five o’clock.”
Ryan looked expectantly at Raven. “What does that look like?”
“I…ah…I h-haven’t got my watch fixed yet,” Raven replied, rubbing anxiously at his bare left wrist.
Mark held out his arm so Ryan could see the face of his beat up old Seiko.
“It’s when the big hand is on the twelve and the little hand is on the five.”
Ryan stared at the little second hand marking time around the watch face for a while, then reverently reached out to touch the scratched glass cover.
“Lots of minutes,” he observed.
“Yep. Plenty of time to enjoy the party and play with your friends,” Mark replied with a smile.
Ryan peeked up at him from under the heavy black fall of his fringe.
“Are you my daddy’s friend?” the little boy whispered after a few seconds of intense scrutiny.
Mark stared over at a self-conscious Raven. “I’d like to be.”
“Wolf is my friend.”
“Yeah, I see you guys playing together all the time.”
Ryan nodded. “I’d like Daddy to have a friend like Wolf. Would you like to play with my daddy?”
Raven’s eyes went anime-wide with horror and his whole face turned an instant, fiery red. “Ryan! I-I… I-it’s—”
Mark couldn’t keep the laugh in to save himself. Oh, Ryan was precious. He loved the little boy already! “Yeah. I’d really like to get to know your dad. If that’s okay with you.”
Looking over at Raven again, Mark tried to convey just how serious he was. He knew Raven and Ryan were a package deal. It didn’t bother him at all. In fact, he kind of liked the idea. Family was important. He liked what he saw when Raven and Ryan were together. A lot of guys he’d met didn’t get it—too busy partying and enjoying themselves to understand why he’d hung around to help raise his brother and sister. The fact Raven had a son certainly didn’t scare him off. After the tearaway twins, not much could.
He watched as wide-eyed realisation slowly crept into Raven’s expression.
Mark smiled. He couldn’t have planned this better if he’d tried.
“You’re not allowed to hurt him. Friends don’t hurt each other,” Ryan suddenly blurted.
What the
…?
“Ryan!” Raven looked mortified at his son’s outburst.
As a sick sense of dread filled Mark, he felt the smile slip away from his face. He could tell by the way Ryan watched him—and Raven didn’t—that something deep and dark was festering beneath the little boy’s statement. He wondered what had happened in their lives to provoke such a comment.
“You’re right. You don’t hurt friends.”
“Promise.”
Mark crossed his heart solemnly. “Promise.”
And if it was the last thing he ever did, he would keep that promise. He would never hurt Raven or his son. In fact, he wanted to make sure no one got the chance to hurt either of them ever again.