Author:
Lor Rose
Title: The Other Half Of Me
Series
Title and Number: Patryk's Branch Book One
Publisher: Thirteen
Below Press
Release
Date: September 15, 2015
Genre: Contemporary
Tags: friends to lovers, gay for you, rock star,
secret, detective
Heat
Level: 4
Pairing: MM
Length:
50,434
As a homicide detective for the greater Houston area, Detective Barrack Invar’s job was stressful enough without his Lieutenant breathing down his neck to do more, not to mention his girlfriend, Isabella. His partner, Calhoun, was a joke. It didn’t help that over the years Barrack earned a reputation as being a bit of an asshole at work. Things for Barrack didn’t look any brighter in the wake of a murder case with absolutely no leads at all. Until he came home to a wonderful surprise. His best friend since the age of three had finally come home.
Willow only survived. His best friend since childhood, Barrack, was all that mattered to him. Willow craved any small scraps of affection Barrack was willing to give. Every look, every praise, every touch, tore Willow’s soul because he was constantly reminded of what he couldn’t have. Barrack. When Willow unexpectedly returned home his insides burned with the need for the man he loved. The need to give control…
Barrack found his feelings towards Willow slowly twisted and changed. He loved his best friend. A man. For Barrack it was a very simple thing. Willow on the other hand could not accept what Barrack was freely willing to give. Willow did the only thing he knew. He ran.
Returning home, Willow’s fears were confirmed when Barrack refused to come with him. Barrack’s promises to follow seemed long in coming. Willow was left devastated feeling abandoned and alone.
Can Barrack convince Willow of his love? Will Willow allow Barrack to love him?
Excerpt
The energy of the crowd and
passion from the band was infectious. Barrack stood as close to the stage as he
could. His body ached and his eyes itched with need for sleep after a long day
at work then the concert, but it was worth it. Seeing him made it worth
it.
He headed for the VIP line
forming next to where NRG Stadium kept their performance stage when not in use.
Other bodies ran into him, one group nearly running him over with their purple
VIP passes swinging from their necks. Barrack shook his head. Purple badges
like theirs only allowed them into VIP after-show signings, nothing special. Black
was the next level up, with after-show backstage access and a gift signed from
all the band members for Christmas. White, like his, allowed backstage access
before and after shows, as well as the yearly gifts at Christmas and the
holder's birthday, plus special one-on-one time with the band at a scheduled
party near Halloween.
The organizers broke up the white
badges into groups of seven per party to allow more one-on-one time. Hence,
only twenty-one people had a white VIP badge. If a white badge didn't come to a
white party more than twice in a row, they automatically lost their white VIP
status since other people would use it to its full advantage, like him.
"Hey Barrack!"
He turned to see Bridge, the
band's head of security, waving him over, then shouldered his way through the
crowd, slowly making his way to the front of the line.
"Annoying, isn't it?"
Bridge's voice had a slight rasp to it. He was a tall broad man with a
stern-looking face and jaw. His hair looked swept back by the wind.
The two clasped hands and Bridge
pulled him into a one-armed hug, each patting the other heavily on the back. “If I had to deal
with this all the time, then shit yeah. Doesn’t it get annoying?” Barrack
asked and gave Bridge one more hearty pat on the arm before releasing him.
Bridge shrugged. “Not really, no.
How you’ve been?”
Barrack smiled at his old
friend. They had gotten close once a
long time ago when they’d been undercover. When everything was all said and done with that
case, the men had lost contact, only to be reacquainted a few years later when
Emotio hit the scene.
He shrugged. "Same old, same
old."
Bridge shook his head. "Come
on." He opened the door to allow them inside. Barrack stepped into a much
quieter but still busy space. Stage personnel hustled about doing whatever it
was that they did. One was carrying a large stuffed rhinoceros—he didn't want
to know.
"Barrack." Rex Louis
Clark, the drummer waved and Barrack waved back. The man stood shirtless with
raven black hair that shined blue in the light. A white stripe accented the
side of his head. The tabloids had nicknamed him 'Skunk', and for good reason.
He'd been known to have a bad temper. He was talking to Luxe, the band's
stylist. Why, he didn't know since the man seemed to be allergic to shirts.
"Everyone else is in
back," Bridge said. "The public signing will start in half an
hour." Bridge patted him on the back and walked off, leading the way.
"That's it?" Half an
hour seemed like a short break after such a performance.
Bridge shrugged. "Aksel and
Patryk wanted to be done early."
"Wonder why," he mused
aloud while they turned a corner.
Bridge sighed, but it sounded
more like a disbelieving tsk. He opened another door and walked inside with
Barrack following behind.
"You know you're the only
fan we actually like enough to hang out with," Bishop, the lead guitarist,
said from the wet bar. His silk black pirate shirt caught the light,
highlighting his exposed chest. His shoulder-length bleached hair sported pink
highlights at the tips, which faded up the length.
"That one isn't so
bad," Aksel, the bass player, said as he plopped on the couch. His purple
Mohawk didn't even move.
Titus, the piano or keyboard
player, threw wadded paper at Aksel, which he caught. "Do ya mean
Greg?" Titus's slight Irish accent came through. His all white hair almost
glowed in the fluorescent lighting.
"I hate him," Bishop
said as he took a long drink.
"That's because—"
Patryk Sama'el, the lead singer, walked in from another door on the opposite
side of the room. "—he drinks just as much alcohol as you." His hair
was black, the sides of his head shaved into a military buzz, and the center
was long, thick, and styled effortlessly to the side. A chunk of white
highlighted his bangs. Diamond stud earrings decorated his ears. He had changed
from his earlier outfit into skinny jeans and a loose rock and roll T-shirt.
"And even we cannot afford that." His comment won a round of chuckles
and the finger from Bishop.
The singer shook his head and
plopped on the couch next to Aksel. Heavy black makeup framed his eyes, as did
an elegant gray and black masquerade mask. This air of secrecy heightened
Emotio's fame. No one had seen Patryk's face, not even Emotio's other members.
Rumors soared over Patryk's looks, but the man in the center of it all, Patryk,
neither confirmed nor denied anything. Patryk Sama'el symbolized mystery, and
mysteries were intriguing.
"Hey Barrack," Patryk
said with a tiny wave, looking relaxed but tired.
"Hey, guys." Barrack
entered the room while Bridge said his goodbyes. "You want a water?"
Barrack asked Patryk who nodded. Barrack had to practically shove Bishop out of
the way to get to the wet bar.
He retrieved two waters, then
handed one to Patryk while he sat between Aksel and Patryk. "Where's
Dominik?" Another scan of the room confirmed the electric violinist wasn't
there.
Titus tossed him the wad of
paper, and he tossed it back. "Good question."
"Bathroom," Patryk
supplied with a sigh.
Barrack looked him over. Patryk
seemed to have melted farther into the couch since he sat down,
"Okay?"
Patryk nodded. "Just
tired."
"If I danced like you in
them damn high heels, I'd be tired too." Bishop twirled and went back to
the bar for another drink.
Before anyone could answer,
Dominik walked in from the same door Patryk had. He stopped short when he saw
Barrack. "Hey." On stage, Dominik was a force worthy of the band's
fame, but in that moment, he seemed tiny and timid, as if he were two different
people.
His emerald-green hair had white
accents. Dominik's style was the most formal. A well-tailored suit showed off
his form. The jacket was opened, exposing a white button-up shirt and loosened
black silk necktie.
"You okay?" Barrack
asked while getting up. "Here, sit. You look tired."
Dominik smiled, but it seemed sad
to Barrack. "I'm fine."
"Please, sit." He
motioned to the spot he’d given up. Dominik meekly nodded and slowly made his
way to the sofa. To Barrack, he seemed to move a little too gingerly.
"Thanks," Dominik said as he passed. Barrack's gaze zeroed in on him
pressing his arm to his side. A small bruise visible on Dominik's knuckles made
Barrack frown.
"Son of a bitch." Rex
burst into the room and chucked something against the wall, but Barrack didn't
see what it was. Barrack was too focused on Dominik's barely there flinch and
subsequent wince.
He covered it up well. "Lose
a bet?" Dominik's response was more subdued than usual as he sat.
Rex growled as he strode across
the room to the other door. "Shut up," he snapped. "I'm taking a
shower." The poor door almost groaned under Rex's grip as he wrenched it
open, and the reverberating slam when he left sent a crack throughout the room.
"Well he's a ray of
sunshine, isn't he?" Bishop listed to the side with a giggle.
Patryk sighed, but Barrack could
tell he was watching Dominik, too. "Stop drinking. We still have the
signing to do."
Bishop flipped him off again.
"You gonna stop me?"
"And mess up this
manicure?" Patryk waved black fingernails at him. "I don't think so.
Barrack can subdue your drunk ass."
Bishop looked at him with bleary
eyes. He must've been drinking on stage. "Wouldn't mind 'hat at all."
"Barrack is off limits. He's
got that Willow fellow," Titus said while still tossing the wad of paper
around.
Barrack shook his head.
"We're not together."
Patryk chuckled. "The way
you talk about him sure makes it seem you are."
Barrack moved and sat on the arm
of the couch closest to Patryk. "Well, he does have a nice ass."
Bishop spit out his drink.
"You're gay!"
"No." Barrack took
Patryk's water and opened it, then gave it back. "Drink that," he
said under his breath, then turned his attention back to Bishop. "But I
can appreciate a nice ass when I see one."
"We have got to meet this
Willow," Titus said. "He's all ya talk about."
Barrack shrugged. "He's
busy."
Aksel heaved himself up.
"The fucker is always busy," he said while retrieving his own water.
"Be nice," Patryk said.
Aksel made a jacking off motion.
"Suck me."
Barrack laughed, but Patryk
punched his thigh. "What?" He asked then took a drink of water.
"Don't encourage him,"
Patryk quipped, then took a swig of water.
A knock on the door stole
everyone's attention. Bridge stuck his head in. "Signing starts in 5.
Where's Skunk?"
Bishop giggled. "Ima tell
you said 'hat."
"That's great, where is
he?"
Barrack nodded to the other door.
"Showering, should be about done."
Bridge walked into the room and
to the other door. "You guys get out there and I'll get him."
"Better you than me,"
Patryk said as he got up.
The rest of the band followed with
their own brand of sarcasm except for Dominik. He sat on the sofa and looked a
little pale. "You okay?" Barrack asked again.
"Yeah. Help me up."
Dominik offered his hand, and Barrack pulled him up. The man seemed too light
even for his smaller physique.
Barrack watched Dominik walk. He
had a slight hitch to his step. "If you ever need anything, I can help
you."
Dominik stopped and turned. The
gaze that met Barrack's could only be described as broken. "You're a
really good friend." With that, Dominik strode off with Barrack following.
They arrived at the signing and Dominik took his place between Aksel and Rex.
Bridge came up behind him.
"Everything all right?"
He stepped back so he and Bridge
were behind the band but out of earshot. "You know what I think."
"Yeah"
was all Bridge said, and the two lapsed into silence.
Lor is a snarky, over the top genderfluid polyamorous demipansexual with dark hair and pink highlights. Although, sometimes the color varies. She is almost constantly fighting with her muse, Animus, or referring the fights between Animus and Epicene, her other muse. Lor started reading very questionable M/M fanfiction at a very young age in the closet. Literally. Though that didn’t stop her from getting caught once or twice. This early love of things M/M sparked
her writing career. Without a doubt, her Christian high
school English teacher Mrs. B didn’t expect Lor to fall into the M/M genre.
Mrs. B did know Lor would be a writer someday because when the class had a
minimum, Lor had a maximum. It truly was unfair.
Besides writing, Lor may also be found with one of her two
horses, the Chihuahua or her cat. Any un-caught typos are courtesy of the cat,
who shoves Lor’s things out of the way when it’s her time for cuddles or
playtime… Which is about every ten minutes.
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