tagGay MaleUnbreakable Bond Ch. 02

Unbreakable Bond Ch. 02


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Chris Donovan vs. Shane Lewis

Dedicated to dramatar

A desperate attempt!


Shane threw punches at the tall leather punching bag as if he was fighting the devil himself. He threw combinations, hooks, jabs and uppercuts, interspersed with blocking motions from his fists and elbows. Sweat poured down his face and body but Shane didn't even pause to wipe it off. He was still in his dress pants, having moved directly into his gym immediately he'd gotten home from the meeting at Damon's office. He actually had to call his office to cancel all his meetings for that day because he couldn't see himself concentrating much on anything that day. Immediately he'd gotten out of his car, Shane had started taking off his jacket, tie, shirt, undershirt and watch as he headed for the punching bag, moving like a predator whose deadly eyes were fixed on its prey. He'd only taken the time to wrap his hands, opting not to waste his time by fixing gloves. Then the punching bag had received his full wrath and attention. The scary thing was that try as he did, Shane couldn't stop hitting the bag.

There were a myriad of emotions twirling through Shane as he threw the punches. Anger was foremost, then there was sadness, betrayal and for the first time in years, utter wretchedness. Why he felt like that after all these years, Shane had no idea. It actually felt like he was back to that night all those years ago. Shane felt every physical pain he'd felt at the hands of Chris that fateful night. Shane had been a mere slip of a boy and Chris had been rather big for his age. The blows had hurt, but Chris' words had hurt even more. Chris' cruel words had hurt way more than the pain inflicted by his heavy punches for some reason. Maybe Shane would have fought back but those hurtful words had taken the fight out of him. He'd simply laid there and taken the blows as though he deserved it. The blood, tears and snort had kept flowing till Shane couldn't feel a thing. Looking back, Chris' words hadn't been any different from words kids their age then usually used when insulting other kids. Being called filthy, worthless and scum who didn't deserve to live was nothing out of the ordinary amongst teens and in Shane's world. The only difference was that this time, it had come from someone Shane was in love with...someone he'd thought was his world. It had hurt so fucking much.

Shane hadn't even known when the blows had stopped. He'd just realized the room was quiet. Then he'd looked up and realized he was in the room alone. There had been no sign of Chris. Shane had managed to drag himself downstairs to his mother. And the look on his mother's face when she'd seen a bloodied Shane had broken Shane's heart all over again. All Shane had managed to say was 'Chris'.

Somehow Sylvia Lewis had looked like she knew exactly what had gone on. Shane didn't know how his mother had figured it out but it was obvious she had. With a determined look on his mother's face, she'd quickly cleaned him up as best as she could, given him some painkillers to swallow, and then packed up their stuff. Surprisingly, the hurt in his mother's eyes had affected Shane even more than the hurt he felt because his mother had treated Chris like a son. She had looked so hurt and betrayed it had been disheartening. Shane had sat quietly and watched as his mother packed. Then when his mother left the room to go and inform the caretaker, Mr. Watson, of their departure, Shane had sneaked back upstairs with the box of dominos that Chris had given to him as a gift, and left it at Chris' door. Then he'd left with his mother and never looked back. He'd never shed a tear...for anything, since that night. But he'd vowed to make something of himself in life, just to prove to himself that he wasn't worthless. In a way, he had Chris to thank for his strive at success...but also definitely for his fucked up nature.

When Shane saw the white substance scattered all over the floor, he was confused as to what it was and where it had come from. Then he saw the slit in the leather on the punching bag and groaned.


Shane started for the shower, unwrapping his hand as he went. He hurt, and not just emotionally. He didn't remember the last time he'd used the punching bag so he wasn't surprised at the pains he was feeling. His muscles screamed in protest as he slowly removed his pants, the tiniest of movements triggering another round of stabbing pain. When he finally managed to step into the steaming shower, he braced his hands against the front wall, bent his neck and let the hot water run down over his shoulders and back, hoping it would soothe at least part of the ache there. He knew the effects would not last long. As he stood beneath the shower, he suddenly started trembling so much that he sat down and simply allowed the water to pour down on him. God, he hated the way he was feeling. And all because of one person. He had to make sure he never came face to face with Chris ever again. Unfortunately, they had a meeting in his house in four weeks. He couldn't possibly tell Damon not to bring his adviser and banker to the meeting. Neither could he absent himself as the meeting was taking place in his home. There was nothing he could do but psych himself up to meet Chris again.

"Damn you, Chris Donovan!" Shane's roar rumbled all through his body, sounding almost like an animal in pain.


"That's enough Chris." Damon groused when Chris reached for the bottle of Scotch. "You of all people should know that you can't solve problems by drinking yourself into a stupor."

"What the fuck do you suggest I do? Huh?" Chris asked hoarsely. "You know you have to start going for your meetings with another person right?"

"Hell, no." Damon said sternly. "You're seeing this through to the end and that's final."

Chris groaned. "Has it occurred to you that Shane might not want to do business with you again because of me?" Chris spoke slowly but he wasn't slurring his words.

"He doesn't come across as that petty." Damon guffawed. "He's a business man. I don't think some childhood beef would make him throw everything out. He's too smart to do that."

Chris shook his head slowly as he looked at Damon. "It's not petty, Damon. You have no idea just how serious it was."

"You did apologize right?" Damon asked with a raised eyebrow. Not that a simple sorry would have wiped the slate clean for Shane, Damon thought. But a sorry from Chris would lessen whatever anger Shane had for his friend. "Tell me you did." The incident happened years ago for fucks sake, and like the saying went, time was supposed to heal all wounds. From the look of Shane earlier that day, Damon could tell he sure as hell hadn't forgotten about what had transpired between him and Chris all those years ago. But if Chris had been smart and sensible enough and apologized, there was surely the possibility that Chris wasn't angry. "'Cause if you did, then I don't think Shane would be that pissed off at you."

Damon had marched Chris out of the conference room to his office when he'd dropped the bombshell about beating Shane Lewis to a pulp. He'd needed a drink and he was sure his friend needed one too.

For a very long time, they'd remained quiet as they drunk. They had finished a whole bottle of Scotch already, Chris having consumed the greater portion. A second bottle had been opened and it was already half empty. What actually scared Damon was the fact that Chris didn't even look drunk. The burden on Chris was obviously too heavy to be drowned by Scotch.

"I wish I could have seen him to apologize, Damon. Not that it would have been adequate after what I did to him but..." Chris shrugged. "It would have been a plus."

"What do you mean you wished you..."

"They left, Damon." Chris said quietly. "His mother took him away that very night. When I realized what I was doing, saw how badly he was bleeding, saw his tears, the hurt in his eyes...my heart broke. I ran."

"Damnit Chris." Damon swore.

"I...I couldn't believe I'd done that to Nick. I grabbed my father's gun from his study on my way out. Then I ran out of the house, into the woods and I kept running. I've never wished so hard that I could turn back the hand of time. I...I wanted to die. I was going to kill myself."

"Oh God, Chris." Damon breathed.

Chris shook his head slowly. "I got very deep into the woods, pointed the gun to my head and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. I did it again but still, nothing happened. My dad had taught me how to use the gun for whatever silly, twisted reason so I knew how to use it. Then it occurred to me that the gun might not be loaded. I checked and truly, there were no bullets. My father wasn't so silly after all." Chris gave a humourless laugh. "I cried my eyes out. When I eventually came back to the house...and that was well over two hours later, it was to find the box of dominos which I'd given to Shane as a gift, at my bedroom door. I nearly died when I saw it. I rushed back downstairs to their quarters, only to find an empty room. Then Mr. Watson, the caretaker, came to lock their door. I asked him where Shane and his mum had gone and he informed me that Auntie Sylvia had tendered in her resignation and moved out that very evening. God, you should have seen the accusation in the old man's eyes as he looked me. I felt like I didn't deserve to live...just as I'd told Shane..."

"You told Shane that?" Damon sounded incredulous. And at Chris' nod, Damon swore colourfully.

"I never saw him again...till today. You have no idea the guilt I've lived with all these years. I never went to that house again. I just couldn't. But I haven't been able to let go of that house either. It's like...my only connection with Nick." Chris had just left that country house locked since his father passed away two years earlier. "The last image imprinted on my mind, of Shane...is not a pleasant one. I tried countless times to find them once I came of age but I never found them. It was like they disappeared from the face of this earth."

"Fuck." Damon pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Dude, you need to talk to Shane."

"What?" Chris' head snapped up at Damon's words. He looked at Damon as though he'd suddenly sprouted horns.

"Yes. You have to let him know how sorry you are. For your own peace of mind and for his too, you've got to do something...let the guy know you're not the monster he remembers you to be. Just as your last thought of him isn't pleasant, his last thought of you isn't. You're the only one who can make it better. You have to go talk to him, Chris. It's very important."

"Okay." Chris nodded, knowing Damon was right. "He can do whatever he wants to me. I don't care. He'll probably kill me but...I feel dead already anyway."

"That's the spirit." Damon pumped the air with his fist. "Just make sure your will is in order before you go. Oh and do leave that grey leather jacket to me in your will, man? You know how much I love that jacket."

"Jackass." Chris muttered making Damon holler with laughter.

But even as he listened to his friend laugh, Chris felt a painful tightening inside his chest. He was going to face Shane and this time, it was going to be just the two of them in a room. Chris had never dreaded anything in his life as he did at the thought of what he had to do.



Chris parked his sleek Jaguar XJ Premium Luxury SWB beneath the huge ultramodern building of SL Inc. and looked up at the skyscraper. It was huge and sophisticated. Chris gave a deep sigh and got out of his car. He didn't miss the immediate attention he received from both men and women walking around. He was used to attracting people's attention wherever he went. Chris was the kind of man who most people thought had swag. Six foot' three of stunning, perfectly sinewy body, dark brown hair cropped low, a thick jaw to his proud cheekbones, and the most piercing grey eyes with flecks of green. Chris always looked very serious but his hard look was softened by the impossibly long lashes that framed his expressive eyes. His spectacular eyes, which was very easy to get lost in was one of his weapons when it came to the ladies. Though the smart, outrageously expensive designer suit he wore hinted at all sorts of muscles and a powerfully lean body, it was the air about the man which screamed authority that made Chris look sensational. Beneath his grey suit was a crisp white dress shirt and a dark green tie that perfectly matched those brilliant irises. The nicely folded dark green handkerchief in the breast pocket of his jacket completed his classy look perfectly. It was therefore not surprising that a lot of heads turned when he walked into the lobby of SL Inc. It was as though people couldn't help themselves. For such a big man, Chris moved across the floor, with such an incredibly fluid grace. He was pure sex on legs.

As Chris rode the elevator to Shane's floor, his heart pounded in his chest. This was it. His office had called to book an appointment with Shane under a different name because Chris had a feeling Shane wouldn't want to meet him if he gave his name. It had been two days since he'd seen Shane in that meeting in Damon's office but the time lag had done nothing to lessen Chris' dread. As he was ushered into Shane's office, Chris realized his hands were shaking so badly, he shoved them inside his pocket.

"Mr. Lewis will be with you in a moment, Sir." The pretty secretary informed Chris with a smile as she gestured towards the comfortable couch in the huge office. "Please make yourself comfortable."

"Thank you very much, Ma'am." Chris answered in a hoarse voice. "But I'd rather stand."

The secretary gave him a brilliant smile and left the office. Chris saw Shane talking on the phone in a corner of his chic office, with his back to where Chris stood and prayed the call would never end. Chris took the opportunity to study the man who he was praying would forgive him. God, Shane looked huge, Chris thought amazed at the difference between the tiny teenaged Nick he remembered, and the strapping Shane he was looking at. Yes, he was slightly taller than Shane but the man's strength and power could clearly be seen from the way those muscular shoulders rippled beneath his suit. Chris was so engrossed in his perusal of Shane that he didn't even notice when Shane got off the phone.

"Sorry about that, Mr..." Shane trailed off when his eyes landed on the man who had haunted his dreams for the past two days...and even longer before that. He froze and just stared at Chris. It didn't escape Shane that Chris also seemed to have frozen as he also just stared back at him without saying anything. Shane recovered first. "What do you want?" Shane's voice was quiet, cold.

Chris couldn't speak. He just stood there and stared at Shane, taking in Shane's tense body and angry face. Despite the elegant black suit Shane wore, he looked like he was ready to do battle in an arena. Chris wasn't afraid that Shane would hurt him. He really didn't care if he did. What terrified him was the rage that the other man still felt towards him. Though Chris wasn't surprised, he couldn't help but think that if Shane was that angry after all these years, then Chris had obviously fucked him up not just physically but also emotionally. Shit!

"Nick..." Chris finally breathed.

"Get the fuck out of here." Shane said quietly. Too quietly. He was shaking and Chris didn't miss that telltale reaction. "Now."

Shane had a feeling he wouldn't like what would happen if he didn't do as Shane had requested. But he needed to try to get Shane to at least listen to what he had to say.


"Get out!" Shane all but roared, startling Chris.

Without another word, Chris turned on his heels and left. Coming to Shane's office had obviously been a bad idea, Chris couldn't help but think. But Shane's anger made Chris even more determined to get the furious billionaire to hear what he had to say. He would live today and fight another day, Chris thought determinedly. If it was the last thing he ever did, he would tell Shane just how sorry he was and also let Shane know that not even a day went by without him thinking of him. And that was a fact! Chris' handsome face tightened in pain, and he rubbed the middle of his chest, as he rode down the elevator. It felt as if someone had fisted up his heart and squeezed it dead. By the time he got to his house, his grey eyes looked lifeless, with about as much reflection as old asphalt. He locked himself in a cozy room he called his personal sanctuary. It wasn't a big room. The deco in there was classically elegant. The only thing besides the sparse furniture in there was an aquarium and a bar. Chris only went in there when he wanted to be alone to think. And at that particular moment, he needed to do a lot of thinking. Chris did not re-emerge until late the next morning, sporting bloodshot eyes, a mouth that felt as dry as a desert and a mental note to restock his virtually empty bar.


"You sure you're okay, son?" Sylvia Lewis asked her son. Shane only called that late when he was troubled.

"I'm fine, Ma." Shane said quietly. "I just wanted to hear your voice."


"Can't I call my mother?" Shane laughed softly.

"You know you can, hon. It's just that I know my son." Sylvia sounded worried.

"Now you're making me regret calling you." Shane gave a deep sigh.

"The nightmares..."

"Ma." Shane groaned. "You know those can never stop."

"Have you considered seeing a doctor like I've been suggesting all these years?"

Shane went quiet for a moment. "I'll think about it."

Sylvia Lewis covered her mouth so that her son wouldn't hear her gasp. "Thank you." Sylvia said quietly. Shane had never told her he would think about seeing a shrink no matter how much she had nagged. All he always did was brush her suggestion aside. For Shane to actually say he was going to think about it meant something must be terribly wrong, Sylvia Lewis thought tensely. But she didn't want to push her son. She knew he would tell her what the problem was when he was ready. The mere fact that he was willing to think about seeing a shrink was okay with Sylvia. God knew her son needed help. "Are we still on for the visit next month? I need to see my baby." She said softly.

"No force on this earth can stop me from coming, Mrs. Lewis." Shane said with a chuckle, making his mother burst into laughter.

"You make it sound as though I'm your wife, you crazy boy. I spoke with Adele this morning. That girl is something else."

Shane laughed too. "Tell me about it." He felt better already. But then, he always felt better no matter what, when he spoke to his mother. "I'll talk to you on Sunday, Ma."

"Okay, hon." Sylvia said softly.

"Take good care of yourself okay?"

"I always do. It's you I'm worried about."

"There's nothing to worry about. Say hi to everyone."

"Will do. Bye son."

"Bye Ma." Shane responded and hung up.

His mother lived in New York where she was busy with her charity work. She helped widows who were in need, to get back on their feet. Shane made sure his mother had enough funds to do whatever made her happy. Sylvia Lewis deserved to be happy after all the hardships they had gone through. She lived in a big house that he'd built for her, with two of her relatives and two ladies who took care of the house work. Of course his mother had maximum security, which she didn't think was important anyway. But Shane had insisted, telling his mother he would sleep better at night knowing she was safe. Who would even want to harm such a sweet person anyway, Shane smiled. But he didn't want to take any chances. People could act crazy. His mother, bless her heart, always had people over in the house simply to give them hot meals so the house was always full anyway. It made her happy and that was all that mattered to Shane.

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