Bonds of Denial Read Online Free PDF Page B

been trapped in his entire life.
    He wanted out. Thought he could do it tonight.
    What a fucking joke.
    Only he wasn’t laughing. Not even a little.

Chapter Three
    A bright ray of light sliced through the crack between the drapes and managed to hit Carter right in the eyes when he blinked them open. His world turned white and he groaned, rolling away as he flung his arm over his face to block the sunlight.
    The damn sun had been hidden behind snow clouds for days, and it had to pick the one day he didn’t get the damn drapes closed right to appear. What a crappy way to wake up, but it wasn’t the real reason for his foul mood.
    Last night had ended in a shit-bomb of failure that had stunk worse than any of his first endeavors into the male escort business. Even now, his mind was still trying to pinpoint where he’d gone wrong.
    The evening had been a slow dance to what had been setting up to be a spectacular finish until his client had rushed from the room, shame drenching him from head to toe. What the hell? He’d handled plenty of closet cases before. But none of them had ever been as deeply troubled as the strong, stoic ex-soldier. He couldn’t even guess at what had happened in the man’s past to have him running so hard from himself.
    Shoving the blankets aside, he rolled out of bed and stalked to his closet. He didn’t mess up like that. After ten years in the business, he was an expert on giving every client what he wanted.
    But he’d misread something last night that’d caused Rock to flee in a panic.
    A glance at the time showed it was almost ten. Good. The gym would be half-empty, filled mostly with stay-at-home moms. If he hurried, he could be out of there before the lunch rush ambushed the place.
    He grabbed a banana and a small carton of O.J. before heading into the bitter cold. The first inhale chilled his lungs but didn’t freeze them. That was an improvement over the previous month.
    The gym was less than a mile from the condo complex. The short drive kept his mind from wandering back to the previous night, but there was little he could do to keep his thoughts at bay once he stepped onto the treadmill and started his daily five-mile run.
    It was a routine he kept almost religiously. His body was his income. The better he looked, the more he made. Plain and simple. It was even more important since he’d hit his thirties. He wasn’t the studly young thing he used to be. There were dozens of punk kids who’d like to poach his client list. That wasn’t happening until he was ready for it.
    Which was coming fast. Something he was desperately ready for and equally stressing over. He had four months left on his second five-year contract with the agency. It was time to get out.
    Which meant sticking through whatever crap they dished out and keeping his nose clean until then. He hoped Rock didn’t call and complain about last night. Not that he’d done anything wrong. Hell, the man had given him a three-hundred-dollar tip for scaring him off. Yet another what the fuck .
    Carter increased his speed, turned up the volume of his music and tried to outrun his thoughts. It rarely worked. He still tried.
    Five miles and what seemed like second later, his thighs were burning and sweat covered his skin, making his T-shirt cling to his chest. He punched the button to decrease the speed, settling into a cool-down pace as he caught his breath. A bead of perspiration dripped from his brow to splat on the spinning mat and he grabbed his towel to wipe his face. The solid thump ofthe club music pounding in his ears matched his heart rate, yet he didn’t feel like dancing.
    A tall, fit brunette strolled past the bank of treadmills, her gaze trailing appreciatively over Carter as she passed. If he gave even a slight show of acknowledgment, she’d be chatting him up and extending an invitation for coffee or a protein drink from the little café attached to the gym. He easily dodged eye contact and focused on the