Long Haul Love (Trucker Love #1)

Chapter Eleven

Shepherd felt sick to his stomach as Brogan backed into an area next to an oversized garage the next afternoon. They had dropped their load in Kansas City and then driven an hour out of the city to Paola, Kansas, and Brogan’s home. The home he shared with his two brothers, and from where they ran their trucking company.

“That’s strange,”

Brogan said as he set the parking brake and turned off the engine.

“What?”

Shepherd looked around, not sure what strange thing he was looking for.

There was another big rig parked on the other side of the garage, and across the way, closer to the big white farmhouse, sat a pickup truck, an SUV, a sporty red sedan, and a big black sedan. Shepherd knew Brogan drove the truck, but did not know who belonged to the other vehicles.

“Harry’s here. He shouldn’t be back for another week,”

Brogan said. “Let’s go in so you can meet my brothers. We’ll come out later to empty and clean the truck.”

Shepherd swallowed hard. “Okay.”

He would not meet just one brother, but both of them. He only hoped they would like him and not try to talk Brogan into kicking him to the curb. Taking a deep breath, he opened his door and climbed down from the truck.

Brogan was waiting for him at the front of the truck. “It’s going to be okay, Hoss. And if it’s not, we’ll leave.”

Shepherd did not fight him when the big man walked up to him and wrapped him in a bear hug. He slid his arms around Brogan’s middle and clung, trying hard to push down the fear, but it was like a snake, winding its way through him to keep him from taking a breath.

“Well, it’s about damn time you showed up.”

A deep voice boomed out, causing Shepherd to jump in response.

Brogan squeezed him for a second before slowly releasing him. When he would have stepped away, the trucker took his hand in his and laced their fingers together. Together, they turned toward the house where a large man stood on the porch. He looked so much like Brogan that Shepherd had to take a second look.

“What the fuck are you doing home anyway, goat face? Aren’t you supposed to be out on the road for another week or more?”

“You’re twins?”

Shepherd asked as the door opened and another man stepped out onto the porch.

“Nope, we’re triplets,”

Brogan said. They stopped at the bottom of the three steps that led up to where his two brothers now stood shoulder to shoulder. “This is Shepherd and he’s mine so keep your hands to yourself.”

“Holy cats,”

Shepherd breathed, causing the three men to laugh.

They looked remarkably alike with short black hair and bright turquoise eyes. The big difference was that one brother was clean shaven, and the other had a mustache and goatee, while Brogan had a neatly trimmed full beard.

“Shepherd, meet my brothers. Sam is the baby-faced one and Harry is the one who looks like a goat with that fuzzy chin,”

Brogan said, giving him a way to identify the other men.

“Hello.”

Shepherd gave a little wave with his free hand.

“He’s cute. I can see why you kept him,”

Sam said. “But playtime is over, you’re going to have to give him back now.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? He’s not a toy you can give back once you’re done playing with it,”

Brogan said, sounding offended at his brother’s words.

That was when Shepherd remembered the black sedan parked with the other cars. His father and staff always rented black sedans when they couldn’t rent a limo.

“Brogan,”

he said, tugging on his man’s arm as the back door opened once again.

“No, he’s not a toy. But he is a sick young man who needs to be hospitalized.”

His father stepped out of the house, his black suit, white shirt, and solid red tie spotless.

Shepherd wanted to run, but with two men coming around either side of the house, there was nowhere to run to. Closing his eyes, he turned and hid his face against Brogan’s big, muscular arm. How was he supposed to fight when his father was the master of manipulators and apparently had already brainwashed Brogan’s brothers to his new story of where Shepherd was going and why?

“I don’t think so, asshole,”

Brogan said, his voice low and dark. He pulled his hand free of Shepherd’s and wrapped his entire arm around his back. “He’s not going anywhere with you and your trained apes.”

****

With his arm wrapped around Shepherd, Brogan stepped backward, so he could keep the senator as well as both his black-suited men in sight.

“Mr. Myles, you cannot stop me from doing what needs to be done. Shepherd is mentally ill and needs to be in a hospital,”

the senator said, using the same tone he used in the commercials Brogan had seen.

Before he could think of an argument, Shepherd lifted his head and took a deep breath before turning to face his father. “No, I’m not. All I am is gay, but you can’t accept that. And you weren’t sending me to a hospital when I escaped back in Virginia. Those men were going to deliver me to Carlos Reymundos. You had sold your son, your only child, to a drug dealer and human trafficker to be taken out of the country and put to work in one of his brothels in South America just because I’m gay and a best-selling children’s author and illustrator. Well, I’m sorry, Daddy dearest. I’m not going. Give Reymundos his money back, send me my stuff, and you’ll never have to think about me again. I promise I’ll never think of you, never speak of you again, and it can be like we aren’t even related.”

The senator looked stunned at his son’s outburst. Did he not think Shepherd knew what was going on? Or that he would just willingly go along with whatever plans his father had just because he had to this point?

Brogan took a deep breath and looked at his brothers. They appeared confused and when he gave them a slight nod that everything Shepherd had said was true, they nodded back. They then studied Shepherd a little closer. It took a few seconds, but he finally saw approval in their expressions. They then looked back at him and nodded, this time with more conviction.

“I’m sorry you learned that,”

the senator said, so focused on his son that it was as if the Myles brothers were not there, “but the money is gone. And while Carlos is a patient man, his patience has come to an end, and he is demanding you be delivered to him today. We need to go. There’s a plane waiting for us in Kansas City.”

“How much?”

Brogan asked, startling the senator into looking away from his son.

“How much what?”

“He’s asking how much you got for me?”

Shepherd filled in the blanks and expanded on the question.

The senator looked from Brogan to Shepherd and then around the back yard before coming back to Brogan again. “Half a million.”

Brogan swallowed and looked at his brothers. Before he could offer to buy Shepherd back, the man at his side shocked them all when he said, “Done. I can have the money transferred to Reymundos in two days. All I need is a bank and account number.”

The senator frowned. “You can? How do you have access to that much money?”

Shepherd laughed for a good thirty seconds before he said, “I’m a bestselling author and illustrator with ten books that have each sold in excess of two million copies, who lived with his father and had no expenses. I saved every penny for the day I would finally be free of family obligation. Yes, Senator, I have the money to buy my freedom.”

He closed his mouth for a few seconds to allow his father to understand his situation. “So, what do you say, Senator? Call Reymundos and get him to agree to the change, then walk away and forget I ever existed. If not, I’m sure these guys know the local cops and can get them here to arrest you for kidnapping, trespassing, and anything else we can think of in the next few minutes.”

The two bodyguards apparently had more brains than the senator. They slowly eased away and went to the black sedan to wait.

The senator took a few minutes before his shoulders dropped and he nodded. “Fine. You win.”

Twenty minutes later, the senator and his bulldogs drove out of the yard. Reymundos had fought, but eventually agreed to allowing Shepherd to buy his own freedom. His only request was for signed copies of all of his books for his children’s library.

“You okay?”

Brogan said as he pulled his man in for a hug.

“I knew he didn’t like my gayness, but I had no idea he hated me that much,”

Shepherd said softly.

“Well, I love you and I’m keeping you, so forget about him,”

Brogan said, brushing a kiss on the top of his head.

“You love me?”

Shepherd dropped his head back on his neck and looked up at him. His eyes were wide and full of hope.

“If I didn’t love you, do you really think I would have lied to Joe Asshole and his friend? And the police officer? And didn’t burn that sketch you did of me?”

Shepherd’s smile lit up his face and Brogan leaned down and kissed him.

“I love you, too,”

he said when Brogan finally lifted his head.

“Get a room,”

one of his brothers yelled from inside the house.

Brogan bent and planted his shoulder in Shepherd’s stomach then straightened again with the man draped over one shoulder.

“What are you doing?”

the little man asked as Brogan opened the door and walked into the house.

“Taking my brother’s advice,”

he said without stopping.

He crossed the kitchen and headed up the back stairs to the second floor. When they had inherited the farm from their parents, they had gutted the second floor and remodeled it into three separate bedroom suites, each with their own bathroom. They also had each room soundproofed so they didn’t hear the others when they brought men home, or when they decided to jerk off.

Once they were in his room, Brogan closed and flipped the lock on his door, then walked to the king-size bed across the room. Bending, he flipped a giggling Shepherd onto the bed. The little man bounced twice before spreading his arms and legs and looking Brogan in the eye.

“Take me, big boy, I’m yours.”