Free Aftermath by Cara Dee

things, but he'd never spoken up about it. They hadn't bothered him that much in the past. Content to be content—that was Austin. Until it wasn’t anymore.
    What was so wrong with just going to a bar to grab a beer? No, it had to be restaurants, wine, and a fucking show. Peanuts weren’t enough; it had to be tiny appetizers with French names. God forbid if he wanted to stay home and catch a game. And he didn’t have his old buddies left. Well, they were there, but there was no such thing as a guys' night. Everyone was paired up, and those who didn’t live behind a picket fence had gates. You couldn’t call up a friend and do something spontaneous, because the wife had to have a say, and babysitters had to be brought in.
    He was bitter, but he didn’t know if he had the right to be. There had been at least a hundred opportunities for him to speak up, yet he hadn't. Okay, he had suggested several things he'd wanted to do, and Jade had shut him down, but if he wanted it enough, perhaps he shouldn’t have caved.
    How had he allowed himself to become a doormat?
    He had been that crazy bastard's torture toy, so maybe that was why he couldn’t deal with not having the option to decide for himself anymore.
    That was a lot of maybes. A lot to think about.
    But right now, he wanted to get wasted. He wanted to go to a bar and just fucking drink.
    Could he cancel dinner with the family just this once? He was expected to be home at seven—as always—but if he called Jade and said he just needed one night to himself, surely she'd understand that . He never denied Jade when she wanted to go to LA with her girlfriends for a day of shopping and spa treatments.
    "Okay, Huntley. Let's walk it off on the treadmill."
    Austin got off the bike, panting, and chugged down half a bottle of water.
    He wondered if Angelo pushed Cam this hard. Or harder?
    "Do you know any good bars in the area?" Austin stepped onto the treadmill, his legs feeling like jelly, but at least the hard part was over. Now he just had to walk for a bit, and then he had a half-hour massage.
    "In Bakersfield?" Angelo gave him a dubious look and walked on the treadmill next to Austin's. "I suggest you go to LA for the weekend instead."
    It had been a long time since Austin had gone to a bar, but come on. There were obviously plenty of places to go.
    "There are a couple, but…" Angelo shrugged. "I don’t know. I can text you the addresses."
    "Huh." Austin decided to check more online once he was done here.
    *
    Across town, Cam squatted down and brushed his fingers over James's gravestone.
    He had nothing to say. It wasn’t a man he'd known; hell, he had never even seen the man's face, unless you counted the news articles with his photo. But it didn’t really matter. There was a sense of camaraderie.
    Pete's grave was also somewhere around here.
    *
    "Mail call!"
    Cam and Austin exchanged a look in the faint light and slowly stood up to see what the crazy motherfucker was up to this time.
    It had been a quiet few days, and it felt like the calm before the storm.
    When the hatch slid open, two envelopes were thrown inside before it closed again. The sound of more hatches opening echoed in the basement, and then silence. But…the douchebag hadn't left yet. They hadn't heard the footsteps on the stairs or the heavy door opening and closing.
    Cam picked up his goddamn envelope and tried to keep his fingers from trembling. If weakness showed, he became angry. It caused his breathing to pick up, his mood to sour, and his thoughts to take a turn for the worse. First, his own reassurances would morph into worst-case scenarios, and then panic would settle.
    Austin had seen it a few times now.
    "What does it say in yours?" Austin asked, scanning his letter.
    Cam scowled and read the three lines on the piece of paper. Three lines that told him the "company" was keeping him on board. "'Evan is a hard worker, but it's only a matter of time before he cracks,'" Cam muttered. "'For