Bovian Image - 10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Cole read the sign on the front of the red brick building, comparing it to the black card Yui had given him. A black sign that resembled the card hang haphazardly with the words, ‘Club Hitoiro’ printed in red.

Cole slipped the card back into his pocket and glanced across the street to the three-story building with a Bovian Image sign on the ground floor.

How convenient, he thought.

He turned toward the club entrance, but his gaze paused on the black Ducati parked in the club lot. It was unmistakable, the helmet he’d seen Savan carry around shone under the streetlights.

Two bulky men guarded the black double doors of the club. He waited behind a rowdy group of girls and listened as they tried to get into the club without their identification. One of the bouncers at the door motioned them to the side and Cole produced the card Yui had given him.

“You’re a new face, why do you have this card?” the bouncer asked, staring at him with skepticism.

“Savan gave it to me,” he said, following Yui’s instructions.

He’d thought it useless information.

“Ah,” the bouncer said with a satisfied nod. “He’s on the second floor by now.”

Agreeing as though he understood what that was about, Cole walked into the seemingly quiet club. The owner knew a little bit about soundproofing because a wave of loud music hit him at once after he entered the second entrance to a dimly lit raging dance club.

The place was crowded, and loud, he couldn’t hear himself think. Strobe lights pierced the dim light, green to blue to red, it made him feel like he’d stepped into another world. Savan’s misfit wardrobe started to make sense when he realized everyone in here seemed to share his style. Ripped fitted t-shirts, skinny jeans, and boots, women in skirts held together with safety pins, hair that bordered on punk rock, really bright make up. A young man walked by him in a fishnet top and leather pants that seemed to have been melded to his body.

No wonder Yui had been worried about him when she gave him the card. Shaking his head, he wondered how he was ever going to find Savan in this mess. Hands deep in his black coat, he walked around the club, navigating a maze of clearly crazed individuals, until he found the bar.

“What’s your poison?” the bartender asked when he leaned on the counter.

“Scotch, neat,” he answered.

The glass appeared in less than a minute and he handed over the cash.

“Hey, do you know where I can find Savan?”

“Try upstairs,” the bartender, pointed to a staircase on his right. It was closed off with a red rope. “You’ll need a card to get up there.”

Cole tossed back his drink. He hissed at the burn down his throat and pushed off the counter. The card was starting to become a useful piece of plastic. There were no questions asked when he flashed it. Climbing up the stairs, he came up to the second floor and an equally loud dance floor.

Except up here, there were low tables on the far end with deep red couches, and curtains that could provide privacy if needed. He caught a glimpse of two men kissing, nestled in one of the red couches in the corner. In the next booth, a young woman straddled her boyfriend’s lap while she did her best to explore his mouth.

Cole’s gaze slid to the next lounge area. He paused when he saw Savan pouring a drink from a bottle and tossing it back without a wince.

His head hair stylist was working on getting as drunk as possible. Smiling at the sight, he cut through the crowded dance floor to get to the booth and slid into the seat across Savan.

“That bad a day,” he mused, when Savan poured another drink and tossed it back. “I didn’t think I pissed you off this much.”

“What are you doing here?” Savan asked in greeting.

He didn’t look up, and the blonde fringe covered his face.

Their working relationship was a trial on any day, this was not going to be easy, Cole thought as he leaned forward on the table. His gaze fell on the slender fingers holding the bottle. He’d never noticed them before. Most times, he was too preoccupied with Savan’s handsome face to look anywhere else.

Magic hands, he mused, that’s what his mother had called them.

“Are you going to sit there watching me all night?” Savan demanded after a while.

“You left without talking to me,” Cole accused. “Why?”

“The job was done, what more did we need to talk about?”

“You didn’t give me a chance to apologize,” Cole said with a sigh.

Those onyx eyes lifted, finally, and he was plunged into a dark gaze.

Were they always these intense? Cole wondered.

“For what I said in the hallway, I was being unreasonable.”

“I’m used to it,” Savan replied with a shrug.

Savan lifted the bottle again to pour another shot, but he paused and looked at him.

“Is that all?”

“It should be,” Cole said, but it wasn’t.

He wanted to know what was going on in Savan’s head. Why he was sitting here in this dark club drinking like there was no tomorrow. Savan looked too tense, as though he might break should someone touch him.

“Then leave,” Savan said. “You stand out too much, all that polished character is grating on my nerves. How did you get up here anyway?”

“And I thought I was a bad drunk,” Cole scoffed at Savan’s outburst.

What a bad attitude, it should have been enough for him to leave but he didn’t.

“What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing that concerns you,” Savan replied, returning to his drinking.

Looking around the club again, Cole was surprised to see a man dressed impeccably in a black shirt and slacks walking toward them. It was Ahmon Sanori, heir to the Sanori group of companies. He wore his dark hair short and spiky. Ahmon’s eyes were shadowed black and he wore an earring on his left ear. His was a refined punk style.

Intriguing, so many possibilities, Cole thought.

Ahmon was a well-bred heir to a money empire that was as old as time.

Cole was surprised to see Ahmon slide next to Savan, and wrap an arm around Savan’s shoulders. Ahmon then leaned in and pressed a very wet kiss on Savan’s neck. Jealousy so hot, rose.

“Who is your visitor?” Ahmon asked, when he was done marking his territory.

Savan glanced at Cole with a shrug.

“He was just leaving, weren’t you, Cole?”

Cole met dark eyes and felt a punch in his gut that he hadn’t been expecting. He wasn’t sure why it hurt to see Savan in someone else’s arms, but it did. It shouldn’t matter. In fact, seeing him with a boyfriend was supposed to be a good thing. It freed him from this need to know more about Savan.

“Cole,” Savan prompted. “I wouldn’t want you to get lost in here, should we get you an escort. We’re pretty wild around here.”

“I’ll make sure he gets out safely,” Ahmon said, smiling lasciviously at Savan.

Cole felt bile rise up at the thought of these two together. He got up and stumbled out of his seat. Waving a hand at them, he ground out.

“I can find my way out. Thank you again for tonight, Savan. See you around.”

Savan shrugged, and Cole hurried out of the club as quickly as he could. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting tonight. Savan falling into his arms would have been ideal. However, the plan to come find Savan had been a stupid idea.

***

Sweat trailed down his back, Savan leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Every nerve in his body singing with pleasure, he could barely keep standing. Seeking fingers trailed up his back, caressing, burning, he moaned as a hot hand stroked his cock in firm strokes. Opening his eyes, he buried his face in his lover’s shoulder as those knowing fingers increased their speed.

Clenching the black fabric of Ahmon’s shirt, he almost panicked when the strokes paused.

“Don’t stop,” he slurred out in a heated whisper.

A finger traced over his sensitive head, before that hand continued its firm strokes. His hips followed eagerly, he was so close. Ahmon sunk fingers into Savan’s hair and pulled his head back, hard lips captured his own in a purely sensual kiss.

An unrelenting kiss that took all thought away, he didn’t want it to end. All that mattered were the delicious sensations coming from the heated strokes on his aching, weeping cock. Ahmon shifted his lips to Savan’s jaw, then to the curve of his neck, sliding that maddening tongue along to his left ear where he captured his earlobe. His teeth teased the earring studs there. Ahmon moaned; his hot breath tickling, then he bit Savan’s earlobe gently.

Savan clamped teeth on his lower lip to keep from yelling out as he exploded, coming in hard jerks that had Ahmon pressing him against the wall so that he could keep standing through his violent ecstasy.

Loud beats of music flooded his exhausted senses. Savan closed his eyes. Ahmon was zipping up his fly and pressing soft kisses on his neck. Sighing in bliss, he brought a hand up to touch Ahmon’s jaw.

“What about you?”

“Are you really in a condition to help anyone tonight?” Ahmon asked, as he pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket.

He wiped his hand and folded the handkerchief. He returned it to his pocket to throw away later.

“You’re drunk, Savan.”

Glad for the wall behind him, Savan wiped a trembling hand down his sweaty face and stared at the man who was helping hold him up with a hand on his right shoulder. After leaving the fashion show, he’d headed straight for Club Hitoiro. The club was a convenient hang out joint that always had a party no matter what day of the week.

Savan ordered a bottle of whisky, and judging from how his head felt, and the hot hand job in the dark corner of the club, he was beyond drunk. Too drunk to think about Cole’s surprising visit and the expression the man had worn before he’d left.

Those eyes—he leaned into Ahmon’s inviting body.

“I’m up for it. Let’s do it in your office,” Savan said.

The thought of going home was not appealing. He didn’t want to remember why he hated today so much. He was clearly not drunk enough yet if he could still think.

“Before we go there though, I need another drink.”

Pushing Ahmon off him, Savan stumbled in the direction of the bar barely able to keep standing. He rubbed his eyes to clear the haze of the dimly lit club. He vaguely wondered what time it was. The deejay was spinning Far East Movement, and the crowd was dancing wildly. He stumbled into a bunch of girls who were rushing to the dance floor. They laughed and he smiled at them as they moved on.

Savan was at the bar when Ahmon finally got to him. Taking the bottle the bartender handed him, he tried to concentrate on pouring the liquor into his glass. It seemed like there were two, or maybe three. When he couldn’t figure out which glass, he brought the bottle up to his lips and took a healthy sip. The liquid burned down his throat, making him wince in appreciation.

“What the hell happened today? Why are you acting like this?” Ahmon asked, pushing him into a stool. “Was it that man who came earlier? I can take care of it, if you tell me.”

“Leave him alone,” Savan said. Ahmon could get vicious. Cole didn’t need his kind of trouble. “Stop worrying, I had a hard day.”

Lifting the bottle again, he started to take another sip, but Ahmon grabbed the bottle away.

“Give that back,” Savan said, hot anger boiling up to the surface like lava, he clenched his fists, eyes flashing in fury. “I don’t feel like playing twenty questions right now.”

“Make me,” Ahmon shot back. Pushing the bottle back to the bartender, he leaned closer so that their faces were an inch apart. “You’re pissing me off. What am I to you? Are we cheap sex on the side when you’re having a bad day?”

“If it fits,” Savan replied and wasn’t surprised to feel the sting of a slap on his jaw. His head whipped to the side at the force. Bringing a hand up to touch his sore lip, he spat out blood. “That’s very mature of you, Ahmon.”

Ahmon glared at him.

“You’re right. I’m the stupid one here. Did you have a fight with your precious Liang? Is he not giving it to you?”

“Don’t talk about Liang like that,” Savan said with a quiet growl.

“Why not, since he’s the only one who does it for you,” Ahmon continued. “We should invite him the next time we end up in a dark corner together. Hmm…it would be so good.”

Savan wasn’t aware of having moved. One second he was trying to control the red haze in his head, the next, he was clenching fistfuls of Ahmon’s black shirt and swinging his right hand in swift punches and getting back as good as he was giving.

“Stop it, Savan! Stop,” Liang’s voice was yelling in to his ear.

Liang wound strong arms around his torso pulling him away from a retaliating Ahmon. Savan coughed and winced when his eye stung.

“Calm down, and stop fighting me.”

Savan’s gaze still fixed on an angry Ahmon, he allowed Liang to pull him back until they were a few feet away. Shrugging Liang’s hold away, Savan wiped a hand over his mouth and came away with a smear of blood.

“I should have known,” Liang said, shaking his head in disappointment. “Ahmon of all people, you’re completely shit faced.”

“Liang,” he said, trying to be repentant, but he could barely see the man’s face.

Damn, he was drunk. The world was spinning and the ground was coming up faster than normal.

Was it always this close?

“Shit,” Liang said.

Arms were back around his torso and he was being lead through the curious crowd.

“Ahmon, I’m sorry. Let’s talk tomorrow, I gotta get him home.”

“Tell…”

The words seemed to fade away. He wanted to know what Ahmon had said, but Liang led him away. They were suddenly outside. A chilly breeze hit him so hard it almost sobered him.

“You shouldn’t have stopped us,” Savan complained.

“I was worried about Ahmon. He would have hated injuring you more than he already has,” Liang replied, keeping a tight hold as they crossed the street. “I thought you promised to be coming straight home on days like this. Instead, you run to the person who makes you spiral out of control.”

“I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to think about it. Please, just let me pass out already, and don’t wake me up in the morning.”

Liang sighed, or at least it sounded like he sighed.

Savan didn’t get a chance to talk about anything after that. They were back at Bovian Image. Liang took them up to the loft on the third floor using the elevator, and Savan thankfully passed out on his bed where Liang deposited him unceremoniously.

***

He woke up with a piercing headache, the blinds in his room were wide open and the sun assaulted his eyes. He tugged his sheet and pulled it higher turning on his side away from the window.

“Morning,” Liang said, and his eyes flew open to see his best friend seated in an armchair leisurely going through a newspaper. “There’s aspirin and a glass of water on the bedside table. I figured you’d feel like crap this morning.”

Savan’s gaze moved to the tall glass of water on the right bedside table, taking in the condensation on it. It was obvious it had been there for a while. He wasn’t sure he should get up. Judging from Liang’s pose, he was in for a long lecture.

“Sit up, Savan, we need to talk,” Liang said. He folded up the newspaper and placed it on the side stool. “You were out of control last night. You almost caused a riot at Hitoiro attacking Ahmon that way.”

“He deserved it.” Moving slowly, careful not to jar his head, Savan sat up against the bed and reached for the aspirin and water. “Zun, these talks are getting really old. I’m not a kid.”

“You should have seen yourself last night, I thought we were back in elementary school,” Liang replied. “You’re going to need dark glasses to cover the bruised eye. The staff will be curious.”

Savan drank the medicine and pressed the half-empty glass of water on his left eye.

“What do you want to tell me?”

“I’ll take over the Niad account,” Liang said. “We can’t afford your destructive behavior anymore. We have a few more days—”

“I agree,” Savan cut in. “I was planning on exchanging with you anyway. I can’t go back there one more time. I’m sorry I lost control, I was very drunk.”

“Because of Mei’s anniversary, your attraction to Cole Lucianne, or are you still blaming yourself for our pitiful reality?” Liang asked with a raised brow.

Surprised by the question, Savan glanced at his best friend and found warm eyes studying him intently.

No doubt seeing everything again, he thought glumly, even the worst parts of him.

Glancing away, Savan took in a deep breath and let it out in stages.

“No matter what you say, Zun, if your family had never known me, none of this would have happened. Mei would be alive, you and your mother would be running a prestigious salon somewhere in Hong Kong, instead of hiding out in all kinds of places. I ruined your lives and that will never change.”

“Bullshit,” Liang said.

Savan’s eyes widened turning to Liang at those words.

“You want to walk around taking responsibilities for what others have done, and I can’t allow that. I’m right where I want to be.”

“Because you have no choice,” Savan said. “If Jiro wasn’t threatening your life, or your mother’s life, you’d be happily living it back in Hong Kong.”

“Shut up, SarEr,” Liang said harshly, using the name Savan tried to forget whenever he could. “Don’t you think you’re taking on too much? If you keep saying you’re to blame, you’re going to start bruising my mother’s and my pride.”

“Pride,” Savan said in surprise. “What does that have to do with anything?”

Liang stood up, unfolding his tall frame easily. He started pacing on bare feet along the carpeted floor. Where Savan was thin, Liang had a more muscular frame, his shoulders filled out the black Bovian Image t-shirt he wore. His hair was long to his shoulders and tied back in a low ponytail. Unlike Savan, he had no piercings, although he did have a black dragon tattoo on his left upper arm.

“Stop glaring at me and listen,” Liang said. “The night we left Hong Kong, when we were in that room and Jiro’s men were holding us down, I can’t begin to explain how terrified I was. I wanted to blame you for Mei being in hospital, but you were so worried that you couldn’t save us. I couldn’t do it. When they forced guns into our mouths, I wasn’t sure we would be able to escape. But we did, thanks to you.”

“Zun,” Savan started, not wanting to think about the past. He was having a hard time processing it lately.

“Listen up,” Liang ordered. “I wish you had told me what was going on with you before Mei’s assault. It couldn’t have been easy worrying about your safety like that, but you tried to protect me and didn’t say a word. When Jiro forced us to our knees, and asked you to decide our fate, I panicked. I was so afraid. If it had been me in your shoes, I probably would have betrayed you, SarEr.”

Savan placed the glass of water on the bedside table, his hand trembling a bit.

“Jiro is a bastard; there is nothing you could do that would betray me where he is concerned, Zun.”

“I’m not finished. You were born wealthy, and I wasn’t, yet we were best friends. It was unexpected, and I cherished it to a point. I always thought it would reach a time where you’d leave and go away to do your father’s businesses and forget my family at the little salon we owned. SarEr, you’re a rich man’s child who shouldn’t care for people like me. So that night, I figured our lives were over. Instead, you saved us.”

“Mei is dead, I couldn’t save her,” Savan said. “How can you call it saving when we’re living in hiding like this? I’m half afraid Jiro is going to show up soon.”

“You’re still not getting it,” Liang said, stopping in his tracks. “I owe you my life and my mom's, SarEr. I owe you, not the other way round, so stop blaming yourself.”

Savan didn’t move after that, he sat still watching Liang.

He’d never thought of it that way. He couldn’t think of it that way, not with Mei dead and Xiao Wei unable to see her precious son.

“I can’t help it, Zun. You’re saddled with a person like me, always causing trouble.”

He leaned his head back on the headboard wondering where they were heading.

“I don’t know what Jiro wants to do with your family,” Liang said.

Taking back his seat, he leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees.

“Mom is safe for now. We have enough money saved to be able to help her if trouble came. So, the running we’ve been doing lately is purely you, SarEr. You are afraid of what Jiro can do, while the truth is, he should be afraid of what you can do to him. I think it’s time we think about making a stand. We need to understand why he doesn't want you to stay in one city. Why he doesn’t want your father to find you.”

“What, no,” Savan exclaimed.

He didn’t mean to shout out the words, but he couldn't help the panic that seized him. Facing off with Jiro was going to take more than he had right now. Savan shook his head.

“No way, he will end up finding your mother and killing her. I can’t carry that around as well.”

“I’m telling you to think about it,” Liang said. “You’re losing sight of who you are. You don’t like it when I call you your real name and that should be cause for worry.”

“It’s better not to use it for the sake of appearances,” Savan said.

Wasn’t it?

If people overheard them, it would be weird. Remembering what he’d almost done with Valerie yesterday, he sighed.

“The less people remember when we leave, the safer we are in our next hide out.”

“How long do you plan on running?” Liang demanded. “Can you do it the rest of your life?”

“Why are you doing this?” Savan asked with a frown. “Are you bailing on me? Is it that you want to date? Are you in love with some woman?”

“I’m more worried about you. Cole Lucianne has gotten to you, hasn’t he?” Liang asked. “You’re acting up because you can’t do anything about him. I’m starting to think you should go for it.”

“No attachments,” Savan said. “Those are the rules that keep us alive. Let’s stop talking about this Liang. I’ll behave from now on, okay? No more fights, I promise.”

Looking away from Liang, his gaze slowly moved to the sunny windows. He didn’t know whom he was anymore, so how could he even think of having a relationship.

Cole Lucianne was not the type to have a quick fuck in a dark corner. Savan shuddered. No, Cole was everything else.

Pain stabbed in his heart at the thought of the man.

Why had Cole come looking for him last night?

***