Chapter 8

Face blazing, Danny shook his head. “Like I said. Privacy.” He touched his fingers to his lips. “The pictures will...have to be enough. Let’s just say I have good friends here willing to help me out in a jam.”

“Gotcha.” Jessie gave Rhodey a thoughtful look, clearly reluctant to change the subject. Another nod and she met Danny’s eyes again. “So you mentioned other projects. Any chance you could give us a bit of a taste of what we have to look forward to?”

Chewing on his bottom lip, Danny scrambled for anything that might be interesting enough to keep the media busy, even if only speculating over the details. He didn’t want to drag Jamie into this without giving him a heads up first.

Which left only his solo stuff.

My...nonexistent solo stuff.

“Broadway.” His eyes widened even as the word left his mouth. There hadn’t been even any auditions he’d been tempted by in months, but no one beyond The Asylum knew that. He’d have to call Ashley’s agent to explain why he’d lied before she thought he’d decided to go through someone else for parts. Latching on to every acting tip he’d ever gotten from his coach, he relaxed his stance and kept his tone a bit breezy. “I obviously can’t tell you too much until it’s official, but let’s just say I’ll be spending a lot of time in New York.”

“Dusting off your heels?” There was a breathless quality to Jessie’s voice as she inched even closer to the gate. “There’s been some talk about Tez Miller returning from his performances in Europe. Can we expect to see him as Lola again?”

Oh...fuck.

Keeping things vague was one thing, Danny could always claim whatever production he’d auditioned for hadn’t worked out and he’d signed an NDA. Implying Kinky Boots was coming back opened a whole different can of worms.

He shook his head, laughing. “You know I can’t say anything about that, but nice try.”

“Hmm.” Jessie cocked her head, obviously not willing to leave it at that. “Fair enough. I’m happy to hear you’ll be back on stage, though. I love the music you’re making with Jamie, but it’s a shame you haven’t been touring. It would be amazing to hear that powerful voice of yours live. When I found out you did that whole performance at the airport, I was on edge for days waiting to learn more about what the stunt was about, but then...nothing.”

Danny hated lying, but he was good at it when he had to be. The way things were piling up, though? He was going to get buried too deep to ever dig himself out.

Focusing on that, rather than the memory of Seth shooting mercs right out there in the open while Danny lured them close by singing for an oblivious crowd, kept the panic almost manageable. He rubbed his arms as a chill ran over him.

If someone stands on one of those roofs and shoots me now, would they think that was an act, too?

“Didn’t pan out.” Rhodey put a firm hand on Danny’s shoulder, as though he’d caught on that it was getting to be overwhelming. “We’re leaving now. I didn’t immediately tell you to get lost because Danny was willing to talk to you, but if I have to come out again, something’s getting broken. Equipment or bones. Depends how fast you are.”

Lips parted, Jessie glanced back as several members of the press started backing up, many having been here often enough to know Rhodey wasn’t bluffing. She hesitated, returning her attention to Danny, then Rhodey. “Mr. Leonov, that’s hardly appropriate to—”

“I wasn’t talking to you. But he’s got nothing else to say.” Rhodey drew Danny back. “Email a copy of whatever your story is and I’ll decide whether or not you get to publish it.”

“You can’t…”

Rhodey’s brow lifted as he nudged Danny toward the front door of the bar. “I can, Miss Maynard. All most of those fuckers are getting is a picture. Have yourself a nice day.”

Even though Rhodey was being a bit rude, Jessie didn’t seem all that bothered. The edge of her lips quirked and she winked at Danny before turning to her cameraman. After firmly closing and locking the door behind them, Rhodey picked Danny up and walked over to the bar, sitting and perching Danny on his knee.

He motioned to Wren, jerking his attention from whatever he was watching on the screen of his iPad. “Get me and our boy a drink, birdy boy.” He rubbed Danny’s arm as the shivering intensified. “Deep breaths, smalls. You did well. Let us take it from here.”

Close to Wren’s side, Reed rubbed his red rimmed eyes, flashing Danny a grateful smile. “That was really cool of you. Thanks, man.” He blew out a breath. “My father’s ex texted me back already. Then called. She’s fucking pissed, but not that surprised. He told her the same story he told the press—she’d tried to get a hold of me anyway, except she couldn’t get my number. Now that she has it, she’s going to let me know what the doctor says I gotta do if I’m a match...and how to find out and everything. My sister’s okay for now, though. She’s on a treatment they’re hoping will avoid her needing the transplant at all.”

Some of the tension that had overtaken Danny eased away as Reed spoke. He rested back against Rhodey’s chest, bringing the beer Wren pressed into his hand to his lips automatically. It was way too early to be drinking, but a Dom had ordered him a drink, so he’d drink it. The cool, fresh ale felt nice going down, anyway. And the taste made him think of Shea.

“It’s awesome she’s still doing good and her mom knows better than to believe...that man.” Danny couldn’t think of a diplomatic way to talk about the asshole who only seemed to appear in Reed’s life long enough to hurt him. He reminded Danny of Jamie’s mother. His own father hadn’t been the best, but his greed and carelessness wasn’t half as bad as the downright cruelty of the other two men’s parents.

“Yeah, I wasn’t sure what to expect when Wren got me her number.” Reed hopped up on the bar, stealing a sip of Rhodey’s whiskey, smiling a little when Rhodey mock growled at him. “I was...really confused about how I felt, knowing my father had other kids. I imagined them being...better, you know? Like I know I’m too much sometimes and maybe he just needed a second chance.”

Danny winced, shaking his head as he reached out to put a hand on Reed’s knee. “You’re you. And you weren’t too much for Tracey or Noah. They love you. And everyone else here does too. Some people are selfish and there’s no fixing that. It’s fucked up that he got another chance to hurt more kids. And that he left the kind of scars that have you feeling this way.”

Patting Danny’s thigh, Rhodey gave a serious nod. “True. But enough swearing from the both of you. You’ll have everyone thinking I’ve gone soft. I know how you subs talk about us Doms. Let one thing slide and we might as well hang up our whips and take up needlework.”

The kind of ‘needlework’ Reed scened with definitely wasn’t ‘soft’, so Danny wasn’t sure what Rhodey was implying. He didn’t love whips, but he’d take that over needles any day. And if it was needles to punish him for swearing? Would they go in his tongue?

Can you get permanent damage from that?

No, Jamie had his tongue pierced. So did Reed and Wren, though Wren’s had been taken out at some point and healed because he’d admitted food textures bothered him even more with a piece of metal in the way.

Calories bothered Danny more than textures, but a swollen tongue would make it hard to sing. And if he got a terrible infection and lost his tongue altogether, he had no idea what else he could do with his life.

Best not risk it.

He put a hand over his mouth. “No needles please, sir.” He peeked up at Rhodey. “I won’t swear anymore. I’m sorry, this whole thing has been…”

“Complicated?” Rhodey’s lips slanted before he leaned in and planted a kiss on Danny’s cheek. “Yes. But it’s over. All things considered, this morning went well.”

Bloody injuries and family trauma? Not what Danny would consider anything going well, but with Rhodey’s line of work, it all probably seemed mild. Going back to his beer, Danny kept his thoughts to himself.