Page 1 of Dreamers Often Lie

PROLOGUE

There are two houses in Los Angeles that you can call whenever you want a secretive dalliance with a handsome young man. Dignified? It depends on what kind of gentleman that you would prefer. But the houses themselves are modern and without repute, except for the kind talked about in whispers and behind fake profiles on the internet.

Neither house likes the other, and their grudges run deep. Once brothers and now the bitterest of enemies – they have ratcheted up their disdain to the point where blood has been spilled, and neither side can forget the harm perpetuated upon them.

Yet, somehow, love has been written in the stars for some of them – but not all will overcome. Will their pitiful lives make a difference to the strife and hate between Daddy Monty and Poppa Cappie, or will it ignite a blaze that will destroy them all?

You know the tale of Romeo and Juliet – two lovers unable to overcome the outrageous slings and arrows of fate, or the hate between their two houses of misfortune.

But what about the others trapped within the story whose lives were cut short with rage?

Be patient and be assured that a happy ever after can be achieved.

This is the tale of Ty and Mercy – whose lives and love never got a chance.

Be patient and be assured that this I will mend.

1

Ty

“You should have seen him!” Greg jumped off the curb and slapped Sam on his back so hard he almost fell over.

“Dude! Fuck, man.” Sam gained his balance and turned to our much larger friend. Greg was a walking slab of muscle.

“Oh, did that hurt the little baby?” He ruffled Sam’s hair. Sam was much shorter than both of us and maybe weighed a buck twenty wet.

“Yeah. Don’t bruise the merchandise, bro.”

Greg pushed his finger into Sam’s chest. “What? You gonna run and tell Poppa Cappie that mean old Greg is abusing you? Fucking baby.”

“I’m not a goddamn snitch, asshole. But I get enough bruises already without you adding to them.”

“Hey, it’s just part of the job, bro. A lot of pleasure sometimes takes a little pain.”

“Says the dom,” Sam huffed. “From the other side, I can tell you that it’s not always that pleasurable. Some of these clients, dude, are…”

“I know, man. But what are we supposed to do? Poppa Cappie doesn’t like being told no, and he’s paying for all this, so when they want it rough – I give it to them rough, and so do you.”

“Yeah. Lucky you,” Sam cracked his neck. “What the fuck are we doing with our lives? I was going to go to law school.”

Sam asked the question that most of the boys in the house had asked at one time or another. Poppa Cappie was a businessman first and my uncle second. I had been forced to move in with him when I was only twelve years old because my parents died in a car wreck. Somehow, I had walked away without a scratch on me, but they didn’t. I had wished that I’d been killed with them for most of my life. But fate had other plans for me, I guess.

The other guys at the house of Cappie had found their way there in one way or another – most of them illegally. But they were fine – I mean, they were boring, and most of them weren’t very smart, but they were my friends, and when I was in a pinch – they were family. We were probably the only family that any of us had.

“We’re influencers,” Greg laughed easily.

“We’re whores,” I groaned. “Do any of us have our own accounts to make money on? No. That account and our fame all belong to Poppa Cappie. We’re tools and nothing more. Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

“We get paid – and I think we get paid pretty well. I want for nothing, do you?” Greg smirked, already knowing the answer.

“Can we get back to the story, please,” I snorted, tired of their bickering. I really needed to find other people to hang around with. Someone much more interesting than the guys at Poppa Cappies.

“Oh, yeah! So, I had him bent over, and I was pounding him – he was begging me. I told him he was gonna have to pay more if he wanted me to…”

“Look!”

“He had already paid for that.”

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