Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 138844 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 694(@200wpm)___ 555(@250wpm)___ 463(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138844 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 694(@200wpm)___ 555(@250wpm)___ 463(@300wpm)
“I’m gonna go back in and leave a message for Lucian, okay?” I cupped his cheek and brushed my thumb under his eye. “I want him to see when he wakes up that I’ll be there to pick him up in the morning.”
His eyes welled up again. “Am I the shittiest sub ever? I should be with him. I want to—”
“Hey.” I cut him off gently but firmly. “This goes way beyond kink, sweetheart. But even then, no—don’t even go there. He’s been downplaying his stress for months, and it has consequences, not just for his health but for his relationships. I only hope…” I let out a breath. “I hope you won’t be gone for long.”
He shook his head quickly and stepped in for another hug. I was more than happy to hold him.
“A night or two—tops. I think I…” He cleared his throat and whimpered, and the sound was fucking painful to hear. “I need to get out of the slave mind-set somehow. I need to distance myself from that way of thinking.”
My chest felt tight, and everything was just so wrong. And yet, I couldn’t blame him for wanting to reinforce his defenses. I’d do the same thing.
“He’s gonna be okay, right?” He looked up at me, worry written all over him. “You said in your text…”
I nodded. “As long as he starts taking shit seriously, he’ll recover.”
And until Lucian showed progress, Cam had every right to be wary.
For the next hour, I had to push through the pain in my legs—and the anxious fucking ache in my heart. I left a note at Lucian’s bedside table and, as promised to both Noa and Cam, told him we loved him. Then Greer was calling me because he was obviously wondering and worrying about why Cam had decided to visit at this hour. So I had to tell him. I gave Greer a brief rundown of the night—and that Lucian would recover—before I let him know we’d drive Cam out to Winchester.
Dean, Santiago, and Gael were probably relieved as hell to go home. I’d have to find a way to thank them at some point.
Cam drove us back to our house in his little Mini Cooper SUV. And they were playing fast and loose with the term SUV for that make. I’d seen sedans that were larger. But at least I could take my painkillers as soon as we got home, and then we switched to my car since it was fitted for my needs, once Cam had packed an overnight bag.
We stopped to get some hot beverages and snacks on the way, partly because Noa hadn’t eaten a proper dinner and partly because I needed the caffeine.
The drive was silent and exhausting, and every time I glanced at the boys in the rearview, my restlessness grew. Noa didn’t like that Cam was “fucking off” for a night or two, and Cam was too close to tears the entire time.
In a moment of crisis, I would’ve wanted us closer than ever. Instead, it felt like the opposite. We were falling apart. Our tightly knit dynamic was unraveling and spitting out fragments of whatever we were on our own.
Tomorrow was going to be brutal. The doctor had said they’d do one more checkup on Lucian “around seven,” after the shift change, so I’d be there then to pick him up. I’d have to call the office and let them know I was taking a day off. Maybe Noa would come with me; I couldn’t foresee him heading to work. And we’d tell Lucian that Cam was in Winchester…
Somewhere around there, I would need my two-hour workout as well. I usually did that early, before work—
“After we pick up Uncle Lucian tomorrow, can you drop me off at the grocery store, Daddy?” Noa asked. “I’m gonna buy him carrots and broccoli, and then I’m gonna throw out everything we have in the kitchen.”
I lifted my brows and eyed him in the rearview. I didn’t like the look on his face one fucking bit. He wasn’t joking. That was his plan.
“I’m gonna look up recipes for him,” he finished and brought out his phone.
I flicked a glance at Cam, who side-eyed Noa and chewed on the inside of his cheek.
Everyone knew Noa and I were useless in the kitchen. Lucian wasn’t much better. Cooking was part of Cam’s servitude.
“You don’t have to do that,” Cam said quietly.
“Clearly, I do,” Noa replied. “It’s not like you’ll be there.”
Jesus.
“Noa.” I shot him a stern look in the rearview.
“What?” He glared back, all while Cam averted his gaze and teared up. “We have to be there for Lucian, and Cameron’s all—”
“We have to be there for Cam as well,” I told him. “You, of all people, know what it’s like to have a loved one throwing out empty promises.” I’d had front-row seats to that shitshow for twelve damn years. Every time Christine had left rehab or whatever treatment program, she’d promised Noa things were going to change.