Illumined Shadows (Treble and the Lost Boys Book 3) Read online

“Did Vic tell you we're getting a dog?” Cam bounded over, a huge smile on his face, his eyes bright and happy. “I'm so excited! We've never had a dog before. Wait, who am I kidding? Of course you know that. You were there. He asked you.” Cam laughed. “Sorry, I'm just super excited. I probably won't be able to play with it, but at least we'll have one, you know?”

  Colby frowned. “Why can't you play with it?” he whispered. The very idea was awful. Colby missed the other puppy so much, and Cam looked so excited. It didn't seem fair that Cam wouldn't be able to enjoy it.

  Cam shrugged. “Very few dogs can actually tell I'm there. I'll be able to touch it, of course, but it'll never come to me or anything.” He shrugged again. “But that's alright. It'll be better than nothing. I'm glad you'll get to have one,” he finished, a smile back on his face. “Dogs are great for healing.”

  “Healing?”

  “Yeah, for helping you get over the scary stuff,” Cam said. “I wish I'd had one, but I was stuck in a coma for a long time.”

  “What's a coma?”

  “Cam,” Vic cut in. He looked concerned and uncertain and upset all at once as he looked from Colby to Cam and back. “What are you guys talking about?”

  Cam sighed and rolled his eyes. “Hang on.” He walked over to a side table, grabbed a notepad and pen, and came back over. He marked down some small lines and shapes like Colby had seen on Vic's phone, then turned it around for Vic to see.

  Vic chuckled and shook his head. “Brat.” He reached out, feeling around until Cam moved in close enough for Vic to touch him. Vic ruffled his hair and stepped back. “Just stick to the positive stuff for now, alright?” Cam marked down something else, and Vic laughed, turning away. He paused beside Colby. “You alright with him while I finish breakfast?”

  Colby slowly nodded. Cam was still very much a stranger, but he didn't seem all that scary. He couldn't explain why, exactly, but now that he'd gotten to really meet Cam, Colby didn't feel a desperate need to go hide.

  “Alright,” Vic said. “I'm right here if you need me.” He paused, then looked around. “Either of you.”

  Cam laughed. “He's such a big softy,” he said as Vic headed back to whatever it was he'd been doing in the kitchen.

  “A what?” Colby asked.

  “Never mind. Hey! You wanna see something cool?” Cam darted over to the big table, paused for a moment, then flashed Colby a grin as he walked right through it.

  Colby gasped, staring with wide eyes.

  “Pretty neat, huh?” Cam asked, then reached out and grabbed the table, nudging it just out of place. He paused, a guilty yet amused look on his face as he glanced at the kitchen.

  Vic sighed. “Cam…”

  Cam laughed as he tugged the table back to where it had been.

  “Brat,” Vic muttered, though he was smiling to himself as he shook his head.

  Cam laughed again and floated right back through the table. “Vic likes things perfect,” he teased. “Gods forbid something be out of place.”

  Colby tilted his head. He'd noticed as much, even with as little time as he'd spent outside the room. Everything was precisely placed, and if it was moved, it always wound up right back where it belonged. It was why Colby was so fastidious about making sure the bed was precisely made after Vic put him in it each night. He didn't want Vic to be upset that something had been left wrong.

  “It's his way of maintaining a sense of control,” Cam explained, almost seeming to talk to himself and waving his hand as though carelessly pushing the issue aside.

  “Why?” Colby asked.

  “Because–” Cam darted a look at Vic, then the smile fell off his face as he sighed. “Because what happened to me makes him feel out of control.”

  “Why?” Colby asked again.

  Cam looked over at Vic, and sighed again. “Because he still thinks it's ultimately his fault that I'm dead.”

  VIC WHIRLED around at the sound of Colby's gasp. He found the boy cowering on the kitchen stool, his hands tucked up under his chin, staring at Vic with wide eyes.

  Cam's notepad zoomed over, the pen scribbling furiously. Shit, Vic. I'm so sorry. I think I screwed up.

  Vic looked from the notepad to Colby and back. “Why?”

  Because I told him you felt responsible for my death, and–

  Vic looked at Colby. “Kiddo…”

  Cam grabbed Vic's wrist, and Vic watched in silence as Colby stared at the place where Cam was presumably standing, his fear slowly giving way to confusion.

  “Oh,” Colby whispered, then eyed Vic cautiously.

  Cam wrote, I just told him you didn't actually kill me.

  Vic sighed with relief.

  But maybe we should tell him–

  “No,” Vic snapped, feeling his heart start to race.

  But it might help him understand, Cam continued. After a pause, he wrote, I could tell him if you–

  “No,” Vic insisted.

  But, Vic–

  “No.”

  Why not?

  “Because I can't say it!”

  A heavy silence fell between them as the sound of Vic's words died away. Vic took a deep breath and sighed, then found Cam's arm and gave it a squeeze before he looked over at Colby.

  “I'm sorry,” Vic murmured. “It's just…”

  Colby looked up at him from under his eyelashes, fiddling with the drawstrings on his hood as a series of emotions crossed his face. “Are you sad?” he whispered.

  Vic sighed again. “It is sad,” Vic admitted. “But, no, I'm not sad now.”

  Liar, Cam wrote, adding a winking smiley face to show he was teasing.

  “Brat,” Vic muttered, but he found himself smiling all the same. He took a deep breath and straightened. “Let's keep it light for now, shall we?”

  Sure thing, boss, Cam teased.

  Vic chuckled and rolled his eyes.

  They got through breakfast, then Vic gave Colby his first hands-on lesson in how to do dishes and clean the kitchen. He kept waiting for the boy to bolt, but Colby stayed right there the whole time, quickly and quietly doing whatever Vic said even when he grew more noticeably tense by the moment.

  But once the kitchen was clean and they moved into the living room, he spotted Colby sending hopeful glances at the cello propped up in the corner. Ah. Of course. Vic had promised the boy more music if he willingly came out of his room. Vic grabbed the instrument and carried it to a place where he could comfortably sit and play.

  Colby hesitated, then crawled up into the rocking chair and looked at him with eager eyes.

  Vic shook out his hands, feeling his heart speed up again. He took a deep breath, carefully placed his fingers on the strings, grasped the bow, and started to play.

  The first few notes seemed almost too loud in the room, but when Vic risked a glance at the boy, everything else fell away. Once again, Colby was absolutely riveted. He hardly blinked as his eyes followed the movements of Vic's hands, his lips parted in awe.

  Vic closed his eyes and kept playing, losing himself in the music. It felt more profound, somehow. Deeper. Richer. More tangible. When the sensation faded, he opened his eyes and looked at Colby again, and the feeling surged anew.

  It was so wrong, but he couldn't resist it.

  In the middle of the next piece, Colby climbed down out of the chair and crawled closer, inching forward until he sat right at Vic's feet, his big eyes staring at the instrument as Vic continued to play.

  Vic almost fumbled the bow, his heart racing and hands starting to sweat. Seeing the boy's reaction to his music was doing all sorts of delicious things to his body. He stared at Colby, playing simply on autopilot while his imagination showed him casting the instrument aside and pulling the boy to him, stripping Colby bare and playing that little body until it made its own beautiful sounds.

  Fuck. He pushed through until that piece came to an end, then slowly lowered his bow. He didn't want that look off Colby's face, but he couldn't drag the moment out any longer witho
ut feeling utterly disgusted with himself. If he was going to have any chance of taming his sudden urge to pin that little body beneath his, he needed to kill the spark.

  Colby slowly lifted his wide-eyed gaze to Vic's face, making his hood slip back off his head. “It's so beautiful,” he whispered.

  “Yeah,” Vic answered, his voice huskier than he'd like.

  Colby slowly lifted a hand, fingers outstretched toward the instrument, then snatched it back and looked down at the floor.

  Fuck, I'm going to regret this. “You can touch it,” Vic blurted out.

  Colby's head snapped up, then he slowly lowered his gaze to the body of the cello. He stared at it for a long moment while Vic held his breath, watching, until the boy finally lifted his hand again and inched it forward. Colby stopped halfway and glanced up at Vic's face. Vic gave him an encouraging nod, and Colby slowly reached out farther, inching his way closer until his fingertips lightly brushed the polished wood.

  Those big eyes of his went wide again. “It's so smooth,” Colby whispered, slowly stroking up and down near the tailpiece.

  Vic froze, his whole body tense as he sat there, fighting every urge to move, his jaw tight and his hands shaking. There was something so exquisitely erotic about watching Colby's little fingers caress his instrument, the slow, careful movements bordering on reverent. It didn't take any sort of mental leap for Vic's imagination to put those hands on his own body.

  Fuck. This was going from bad to worse.

  Colby moved his hand alongside the strings toward the bridge. The tip of his finger caught one of the tiny corners where the bridge was attached to the body, and Colby snatched his hand back.

  “You alright?” Vic asked, frowning. “It's not sharp, is it?” He pried his left hand away from the fingerboard and touched the bridge.

  Colby shook his head. “Startled me.” Before Vic could say anything, Colby looked up at him and asked, “How does it work?”

  “Ah, well–” Vic smiled as a wave of relief washed through him. This, he could do. Maybe getting technical about music would get his mind out of the very filthy gutter into which it had descended. He pointed out the various parts of the cello and tried to explain, in the simplest terms he could find, how each part contributed to the production of sound. Then he found himself veering off into music theory, coming to an abrupt stop when he saw the look of dazed confusion on Colby's face. “Here, why don't you try?” he suggested, holding out the bow.

  Colby's eyes went wide. “M-Me?”

  “Yeah. Go on. It's alright.”

  Colby slowly lifted a hand and grasped the bow. Vic showed him how to hold it, then had him draw it across the strings. The sound was jarring to Vic's ears, but when Colby's hand stopped moving, the boy's jaw dropped and his eyes widened right before he giggled.

  Giggled.

  It was a quick, tiny sound, but Vic recognized it for what it was. The boy actually giggled, the brief sound so full of joy and wonder that Vic couldn't wait to hear it again. Without looking, Vic brought his hand back up to the fingerboard.

  “Do it again,” he told the boy.

  Colby drew the bow across the strings again, and he gasped. “It sounds different.”

  Vic nodded, moving his fingers. “And again.”

  Once more, Colby drew the bow and gasped at the sound. “How does it do that?”

  Vic was hardly a music teacher, and he had a feeling the mathematics of shortening a string by pressing on it in different places to create different notes wasn't going to make any sense to Colby whatsoever, but he tried. The whole thing devolved into Vic demonstrating different fingerings and having Colby draw the bow to produce the sounds. It wasn't much of an explanation, but the utter delight never left Colby's face, especially when Colby handed the bow back and Vic went back to playing.

  He didn't stop until he felt his stomach growling again. He checked his watch, stunned to see that he'd played all morning and that it was past lunchtime already. How he'd managed to play for that long without doing something completely stupid, he couldn't begin to guess. Thank gods for the excuse for a break. If he had to endure Colby's awed, adoring looks any longer, he might explode.

  Vic put the cello away, promising Colby he'd play more tomorrow—assuming he could endure more of the boy's adoring looks—then waited, fully expecting Colby to disappear into his room now that the music was over for the day. Instead, Colby surprised him, staying out for lunch and then helping with the dishes again. His nerves grew more obvious by the moment, but the boy persisted.

  It wasn't until after dinner, when it was time for showers and bed, that Colby finally looked like he was going to shatter if he didn't get to hide away soon. Vic ushered Colby into his room and wished him goodnight.

  He was just pulling the door shut when Colby softly called, “Vic?”

  Vic peeked back into the room. “Yeah, buddy?”

  Colby hesitated, sitting on the end of his bed and eyeing the door to the washroom. “Can–”

  Vic waited, but when Colby didn't speak, Vic asked, “Do you want a hot bath again?”

  Colby nodded shyly.

  “Hey, that's fine, kiddo. Besides, I told you: hot showers from now on, remember?”

  Colby nodded again.

  “Here, I'll show you,” Vic said, heading for the washroom. Colby dropped to his hands and knees and crawled along after him, then huddled on the floor near the vanity, watching Vic as he explained how to make the hot water come on in both the shower and the tub, then went about filling the latter just like he had last night.

  “Let's check those cuts real quick, yeah?”

  Colby climbed up onto the edge of the tub and held out his feet without hesitation while Vic pulled off the bandages and checked everything over.

  “Those are looking better.” He prodded the cuts gently. “How do they feel?”

  Colby flinched just slightly. “Stings a little.”

  Vic nodded and set the boy's feet down on the cold, tile floor. “Let's give it one more day and then we'll really try walking. How does that sound?”

  Colby nodded. Standing carefully in the kitchen while doing the dishes hadn't been too bad, but it hadn't been totally comfortable, either.

  “Alright.” Vic stood and nodded at the tub. “You can pull the drain plug when you're done?” he asked, and once Colby nodded in answer, Vic took a step away. “Alright. Have a good night, kiddo. I'll see you tomorrow.”

  Colby gave him a shy smile, and started pulling off his clothes before Vic even left the room.

  Vic hurried out the door before he could let himself see any exposed skin, and paused in the hallway with a sigh. He closed his eyes for a moment, only for his imagination to conjure up the look of pure bliss on Colby's face from his discovery of hot water yesterday. Vic groaned, bit off a curse, and took himself off to his room.

  He rushed through a shower, trying with all his might to ignore the erection that had been plaguing him all day. There was no way he was going to be able to relieve himself without thinking of Colby, and the thought left him feeling vaguely ill. The longer he put it off, though, the worse it got. He wouldn't be able to sleep while that wound up.

  And if he didn't do something about it now, and let the pressure build even more than it already had, how would he stop himself from doing something really stupid? Like…charging back into Colby's room and doing something that would destroy them both?

  Vic squeezed his eyes shut, grabbed his cock, and jerked it as hard and fast as he could, just wanting it over with as quickly as possible.

  A fresh wave of shame washed over him as he came, and Vic quickly rinsed the evidence away, hating himself even as the physical relief settled in. It wasn't perfect, but it took the edge off.

  The next morning, after a good night's sleep and an extra-hard workout at the gym, he almost felt back to normal. He got home, peeked in on Colby—fast asleep in his bed, thank gods—and went to take another shower. Vic closed his eyes and let his head fall ba
ck, the hot water rushing over his skin and easing his strained, tired muscles.

  He thought of Colby's delight at his first touch of warm water, the way the boy stared in awe as the drops ran down his arms, the way he eagerly dunked his hands under the surface over and over again. Such a simple thing. It was just hot water, something everyone enjoyed on a daily basis, but Colby had looked like he was experiencing magic.

  Vic twisted around and turned the valve farther to the left. The extra heat struck the back of his neck, and Vic felt his entire body melting under the bliss of it. So simple, something he'd always taken for granted, something he never really stopped to think about.

  But little Colby had reveled in it. Vic took a slow, deep breath, and let himself just feel. Let himself experience every tiny sensation as the hot water beat down on the back of his neck and slowly spread, sending waves of comfort throughout his body, washing away stress and tension and darkness.

  Why did he never take the time to enjoy this?

  Vic sighed. He knew exactly why. There was far too much darkness in the world, and too big a weight on his shoulders for him to ever slow down and really indulge in things he loved, even the simple things. He needed to stay focused. He needed to keep working, and make up for his utter failure with Cam.

  Still, Vic lingered another moment, then shut off the water, got out, and slipped into his usual businesslike demeanor, going about his routine of grooming and dressing even though, once again, he had nowhere to go.

  Despite his dark thoughts, he found himself feeling much better, not tensing up quite as much when he sat down to play for Colby again. The looks on the boy's face were still tempting, but he endured it.

  He felt just about settled and under control when his phone rang, interrupting the piece he was playing. The sound was jarring, especially with the way it cut into the music, and when he checked the screen to find Ryley calling—not from his own mobile but from his work line—a sense of dread washed over him.

  Vic gave Colby a look of apology and set his bow aside to answer the call. “Hey, Ry.”

  “Hey,” Ryley said, his tone unusually serious. “Have you logged in yet today?”

  Vic cringed. Shit. No, he hadn't. He'd barely checked his inbox yesterday, either. Mace was going to be furious if Vic didn't get some actual work done here pretty soon. “No,” he answered.