Frank Caffey[break]

CUT ONE'S LOSSES

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When Damien shifted but did not turn to greet him, Frank rested his chin on the other man's shoulder. "You okay?" he asked.[break][break]

The previous night had been a whirlwind, a lust-fueled dance that fed a hunger long-brewing. Frank thought he wouldn't ever be satiated, his need for Damien growing with every grasp and soft moan. The angry, red marks all over the younger man's skin was a testament to Frank's appetite.[break][break]

The morning had brought clarity, however. His needs met, he could turn to more serious, important matters — such as Damien's well being. Because despite their relationship, he considered Damien a friend. His best friend.[break][break]

And friends help each other.

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Frank Caffey[break]
CUT ONE'S LOSSES

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Frank chuckled at the admission. As Damien scooted closer, Frank wrapped his arm around the other man's torso to pull Damien against his chest. Then Frank buried his nose in Damien's hair, inhaling the scent of him.[break][break]

"Sorry," the silver-haired man murmured.[break][break]

He wasn't really sorry, though. He'd never really been sorry.[break][break]

"What's your plan for the day? Going to work? Or are you free?" Frank asked. Though he had no intent to rise from the bed yet, his mind was already hard at work preparing for the day ahead.

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Frank Caffey[break]
CUT ONE'S LOSSES

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Acting casual was how Frank got through life. Everything was fun and games; serious matters remained unaddressed. Even the matter of the relationship he had with Damien had never been codified, labeled with something that could restrict Frank.[break][break]

Yet he loved Damien with all his heart — loved him enough to grant him whatever he wished. In this case, all the seriousness Frank could muster.[break][break]

He exhaled. "Okay. Where do you want me to begin? With the arrest, or after the sentencing?"[break][break]

Untangling the past three years was something he hadn't begun to tackle for himself. He wasn't sure how he was going to do it for another person.

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Frank Caffey[break]
CUT ONE'S LOSSES

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The beginning. It felt like a lifetime ago, yet the memories were as vivid for Frank as the days they happened.[break][break]

He shifted so he could look Damien in the eye — properly. And then he began to talk.[break][break]

The arrest. Frank had been at home in his luxury apartment, the new one he'd bought after his divorce. The police had arrived with a warrant for his arrest. Confused and panicking, Frank almost refused. He knew better, though, and let them escort him to a car waiting on the street.[break][break]

He hadn't been the only arrest. His boss, his boss' boss — everyone in the company who'd participated in fraud, embezzlement, and money laundering had been rounded up. Like pigs, they were crammed in cells at Black City Police Department's headquarters. There were over a dozen of them, total.[break][break]

Frank thought the police would eventually let them go. Someone he knew had strings to pull — or so he told himself. But against everyone's expectations, even the media's, they went to court. Frank himself endured weeks and months of trials before he received his sentence.[break][break]

Ten years in prison.[break][break]

Jacqueline hadn't allowed their children to see Frank during the trials. It had crushed him, but it had crushed him more not to see Damien, either. But soon what Frank wanted didn't matter. He found himself in a jail cell at Black City Correctional Facility. He had to learn how to survive — and quickly.[break][break]

Frank was determined to get out of jail early on good conduct. He obeyed the staff as much as possible, did the work assigned to him, smuggled nothing, took no drugs. When the other inmates tried to bully him for his pristine behavior, he quickly learned how to assert dominance over them. He wasn't going to be anyone's bitch.[break][break]

The hard work and good conduct paid off. Frank's sentence was commuted to three years. "And now I'm here," he finished. His throat was parched, as if he'd been talking for hours. "Trying to start over."

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Frank Caffey[break]
CUT ONE'S LOSSES

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The way Damien drew even closer to Frank sent a thrill through the silver-haired man. He pressed the front of his body against the length of Damien's back even harder, hugging Damien to him as if he never wanted to let go.[break][break]

"Prison was hell," Frank murmured, a rare solemnity entering his voice as he flashed back to those ugly years. "It was dog-eat-dog the way finance isn't."[break][break]

Being the bottom dog meant being everyone's bitch. You ate like shit, slept like shit, and couldn't walk five minutes without being harassed. At least in the business, people didn't treat you like their plaything.[break][break]

Most of the time.[break][break]

"We had an hour of outside time in the exercise yard and workshops for building bird houses and shit. I read a lot to pass the time, if you'll believe it."[break][break]

He didn't know what else to say. It was difficult to describe prison to someone who had never been there. A clinical explanation of his daily routine wouldn't have conveyed the degradation of humanity that occurred inside the facility's walls.[break][break]

Frank buried his face in Damien's hair, wishing to forget.

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Frank Caffey[break]
CUT ONE'S LOSSES

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The vulnerability in Damien's voice, and the way he clung to Frank's arms, brought a frown to the silver-haired man's lips. He understood that his friend had finally dug past the anger and resentment to address his true emotion: fear.[break][break]

Specifically, fear of losing Frank again.[break][break]

Frank shifted, raising himself on an elbow so he could look down at Damien. If Damien allowed, he would turn the younger man's head with a gentle hand so their eyes could meet. His expression was deadly serious.[break][break]

"I'm never going back," Frank said emphatically. "And I'm never leaving you alone again."[break][break]

Then he leaned down and kissed Damien squarely on the mouth to seal the promise.

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Frank Caffey[break]
CUT ONE'S LOSSES