Copyright © Morticia Knight 2013. All Rights Reserved, Total-E-Ntwined Limited, T/A Totally Bound Publishing. Gone. No matter how many times he chewed on that word in his head, it still spat out the same. Almost a week had passed since Jack had arrived back at the motel he and Nick had shared upon their arrival from New York—only to find that he was no longer there. Sure, they'd had an awful fight that evening, but they'd had some really horrible arguments before. There was no reason that this last one should have negated everything they'd been through together. Nick had always been his guide, his protector and finally, his lover. He was his best friend in the entire world, and Jack couldn't envision his life continuing in any meaningful way without him. Unless he comes back. Or I find him somehow—and bring him back. The idea that he could make everything okay again had consumed Jack's thoughts for days. He sat in their Hollywood motel room that lately felt more like a tomb, and conjured ways in which he could find him, and make Nick love him again. Because if Nick had really loved him, then it would have been impossible for him to leave. It was like the orphanage all over again. He'd been dumped there too because no one had loved him enough to keep him. Then, he'd been kicked out for loving the wrong gender—one of the boys there. Maybe it hadn't been a real and true love—like what he had with Nick—but it had been something good. Jack wiped his eyes. The lids were chapped and sore from all the crying he'd done in the past week, and he felt completely used up. He'd barely eaten, and might not have at all if Trixie hadn't stopped by with a burger and some colas. He hadn't been interested in her cajoling and prodding to try to cheer him up. Instead, he had begged her to get him some cigarettes—the only thing that sounded appealing. When she'd returned, she'd given him an envelope with a fancy seal. The paper was like parchment, and coloured with the faintest shade of lavender. An elegant handwritten script spelled his name—'Jack Stone'. He hadn't opened it. He didn't care who it was from, even it was some fantastic news regarding his burgeoning career in moving pictures. If it wasn't from Nick, then he wasn't interested. His Nick had been a regular guy. He would never use fancy stationery with pretty colours. He was hard-working, loyal, protective and loving—in his own special way. Nick had made sure Jack had all that he needed, whether it was food, shelter, work and, in the past few months, unbelievably intense sex. He had belonged to Nick. His man had sacrificed everything to provide for Jack. Nick had tried to shield Jack from the seamier aspects of surviving in Hollywood. But once Jack had discovered that Nick had sold himself to get them work and a paycheck, everything had seemed to fall apart. But it was really much earlier than that. The minute we got here. It was already on its way to being over. Desperate to keep another bout of weeping at bay, Jack forced himself to his feet. He badly needed a shower. He also marvelled at the strength of the August heat, and wondered if it would ever end. I need to pull myself together. I'll never find Nick if I don't. The first few days after Nick had left, life hadn't seemed real. Jack had patiently waited for Nick to reappear. He must've gone off to a gin joint. Maybe he had checked into another motel, and would come back after he'd cooled down. He had just been mad, so he had grabbed his things and left. Then, after he'd thought about it, he'd realise just how much he loved Jack, and return. Didn't he know how much I love him too? I told him over and over, even when he didn't...